“A solid plan,” Lance said. “Good work, Carly, Jillian.”
“Thank you,” Carly said. There was a muffled voice in the background. “Jillian also says thanks.”
“That’s it,” Felicity said. “Don’t have too much fun. It is my burial, after all. A few tears would be appropriate. And, Stone, don’t forget the camera.”
The small church on Felicity’sestate dated back to the mid-1700s and had been built for the exclusive use of the land’s owners. Beside it sat a small, well-tended graveyard, in which many previous residents and their families had been buried.
A fresh grave had been dug along the outer edge, over which hung Felicity’s coffin, and a tent had been erected above the area to protect mourners from whatever weather might greet them.
In Stone’s estimation, less than a quarter of those from the church service had made the two-hour trek south. According to Felicity, most were close friends and a few extended family members, which to her chagrin, including Lord Bernard.
Stone caught the portly lord glancing around the estate more than once, as if calculating its value and imagining it being transferred into his account.
As people moved into place around the grave site, Stoneturned so that the camera could take in as many of them as possible. He didn’t see Pryce anywhere, however, which was a relief.
When it appeared that the ceremony was about to start, he joined Dino at the back of the crowd. Lance was in the front sitting next to James Hall, the acting head of MI6, in the only row of chairs. The prime minister had remained in London.
“Looks like I’m off the hook,” Stone whispered.
“What do you mean?” Dino asked.
“Our friend from the church didn’t show up.”
“You mean him?”
Stone looked at Dino, who jutted his chin across the graveyard toward the church, where Gordon Pryce stood.
The dreary afternoon and the man’s dark suit had helped him blend into the aged stone building.
“Who is Dino talking about?” Felicity said in Stone’s ear. “I can’t see anything.”
The camera’s view was blocked by the people in front of Stone, so he took a few steps to the side until he had a clear view of Pryce.
“That’s him,” Felicity said, excited. “I knew there was something off about him.”
At the grave, the priest began leading the gathered in a prayer.
“Stone,” Felicity said. “It’s up to you now. Don’t let him leave before you can set the trap.”
Chapter 22
The graveside service was muchshorter than the one at the church. And twenty minutes after it started, the mourners began the short trek to a small fleet of golf carts, tasked with transporting everyone to the main house for refreshments.
Worried that Pryce would go straight to his car and leave, Stone made sure to be just behind him as the crowd departed.
Sure enough, Pryce looked like he was about to escape toward guest parking.
Moving abreast of him, Stone said, “I think we’re supposed to go this way,” he said, pointing.
“Oh, um…” Pryce said, flustered. “I wasn’t plan—”
“Such a shock, isn’t it?” Stone said, cutting Pryce off as he deftly shepherded him toward the carts. “I thought Dame Felicity would outlast us all.”
“Well, yes, a big shock,” Pryce said. He flashed Stone a nervous smile. “If you’ll excuse me.”
The analyst began to slow so he could pass behind Stone, so Stone put a hand on the man’s arm and redirected him.
“Didn’t you hear?” Stone said. “No need to drive yourself to the house. The carts will take us to the reception.”
