6 Stone Barrington Novels (53 page)

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Authors: Stuart Woods

BOOK: 6 Stone Barrington Novels
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“So, tall is all we've got?”
“That's about it. He might have gotten heavier, but I doubt if he's gotten any shorter.”
The chief laughed. “I guess not. Okay, he's tall and dead. I'll let my people know.”
“I'll call you if I learn anything else,” Stone said. The two men said goodbye and hung up.
Liz appeared on the afterdeck in a bikini, looking fetching.
“I've got something for you,” Stone said, handing her the envelope.
She took out the agreement and read it swiftly. “My get-out-of-jail-free pass,” she said, smiling.
“Well, not exactly free,” Stone reminded her.
“It's worth every penny.” She put her arms around him and gave him a big kiss, reminding him, for a moment, how much he had enjoyed her embrace in the past.
Stone looked over her shoulder and saw Callie coming up the gangplank. “All in a day's work,” he said, gently removing her arms from his neck.
She tucked the document into her purse. “I'm going up on the top deck and catch some sun,” she said.
“See you later.” He watched her climb the stairs, then turned to greet Callie.
“I can't leave you alone for a minute, can I?” she said, poking him in the ribs.
“Just her sincere thanks for a job well done,” he replied.
“What kind of job?” she demanded, her eyes narrowing.
“A professional job,” he said, giving her a kiss.
“If she does it again,
I'm
going to do a professional job on
her
,” Callie said.
“Say, have you, by any chance, seen a tall man hanging around the house or the neighborhood?”
“No, but . . .”
“But what?”
“There was a tall man at the party I didn't know and didn't invite.”
“How tall?”
“Real tall; taller than you.”
“Hair color?”
“Dark, going gray.”
“Nose?”
“Straight. Rather nice-looking man. I started to work my way over to him to find out if he was a crasher, but at that moment you arrived with Liz, which distracted me, and when I looked for him again, he was gone.”
“Would you recognize him if you saw him again?”
“Yes.”
“If you see him again—anywhere—I want to know about it.”
“Okay,” she said. “But why?”
“Let's just say that I'd like to speak with him.”
18
C
ALLIE COOKED DINNER FOR THE THREE OF THEM, TAKING her time about it, and it was nearly ten when they sat down.
“You're a superb cook, Callie,” Liz said, tasting her sweetbreads.
“Thank you, Liz,” Callie replied. She turned to Stone. “Compliments, please.”
“Wonderful,” Stone said. “Everything is wonderful.”
“A little quicker about it next time, if you want to continue to dine so well.”
“I could not be more grateful,” Stone said, tugging an imaginary forelock.
“Praise accepted,” Callie replied.
They ate in silence for a while, not even bothering with desultory conversation. Callie finished, got up and went for dessert.
“Callie is very attractive,” Liz said.
“Yes, she is.”
“I think I'm a little jealous. I had an awfully good time in your bed—or rather, in mine—and I haven't forgotten a moment of it.”
“Neither have I,” Stone said, “but if quoted, I'll deny I said that.”
“She's very attractive,” Liz said, looking across the room at Callie.
“You said that before.”
“Why don't we try . . .” She stopped.
“Try what?”
“Oh, what the hell—why don't we try a threesome?”
Stone nearly choked on his wine.
“What, do you find the idea so repulsive?”
“Hardly,” Stone said, recovering himself. “It might just be too much of a good thing.”
“Are you afraid she won't?”
“I've no idea how she would react, and I'm not going to find out.”
“I'll feel her out,” Liz said. “So to speak. Don't worry. I'll be subtle.”
“Now listen,” Stone said, but then he looked up to see Callie returning with dessert. He shot Liz a glance and turned to receive a warm crème brûlée. “Looks wonderful,” Stone said.
Callie sat down. “So what have you two been talking about?” she asked, looking at Liz, then at Stone.
“Sex,” Liz said.
Stone gulped.
“What about sex?”
“Are you for it, or agin' it?”
Callie laughed. “I'm all for it,” she said.
Stone felt panic rising in his chest. This conversation was out of control—out of his control, anyway. At that moment, Juanito appeared with the cordless phone. Stone could have kissed him.
“For you, Mr. Barrington,” the steward said.
Stone took the phone. “Hello?”
“Stone, it's Dan Griggs. I'm sorry to call you so late.”
“That's all right, Dan. What's up?”
“One of my men—a plainclothesman—has spotted somebody matching the description of this Paul Manning.”
“Where?”
“Downtown, at a bar and restaurant called Taboo.” He gave Stone the address.
“He's still there?”
“At the bar, talking to a woman. You want me to have him picked up?”
“No, Dan, I'll go down there myself.”
“Okay. My man will be around if you need backup. His name is Detective Riley—short, good-looking, wears sharp suits.”
“I'll call you later,” Stone said. He hung up and turned to the two women. “Something's come up. I have to go downtown,” he said.
“I'll come with you,” Callie said.
Stone had to think only for a nanosecond. He didn't trust the two of them alone together. “All right,” he said. “Liz, do you mind?”
“No, go ahead. I'm going to have a brandy and turn in.”
“Let's go,” he said to Callie. He led the way off the yacht and to the car.
“Where are we going?” Callie asked.
“You know a bar called Taboo?”
“Sure.”
“Get me there.”
“Okay, but why are we going there?”
“A man answering the description of the man you saw at the party is there. I want to know if it's the same man.”
“Who is he?”
“I can't really answer that until I've talked to Liz.”
“He's part of the legal matter?”
“Yes.”
“Take a left, then a right,” she said.
Stone followed her directions.
“Is that why you wanted me to come along, so I could identify him?”
“Yep.”
“I got the feeling you didn't want Liz and me talking about sex.”
“I can't imagine how you got that idea,” Stone said.
“Well, you were obviously uncomfortable with the turn the conversation was taking. What was Liz talking about?”
“Nothing, really.”
“Well, I suppose I'll have to ask her, if I want to know.”
“Oh, all right,” Stone said. “She suggested that she and you and I have a threesome. I want to point out that it was she who raised the subject, and I said absolutely nothing to encourage her.”
“Turn right again,” Callie said.
Stone turned.
“So what did you tell her?”
“I didn't tell her anything. I was too surprised.”
“What were you
going
to tell her, after you'd recovered from your surprise?”
“I wasn't going to tell her anything.”
“Why? Did the idea not appeal to you?”
Stone turned and looked at her.
“Keep your eyes on the road,” she said. “And take the next left.”
Stone turned left.
“Have you ever been in a threesome?” she asked.
“No,” he said.
“I have, once.”
“Really?” he asked, surprised.
“In college, with two guys. We were all good friends. It was just a one-time romp.”
“You astonish me.”
“For such a sophisticated man, you can be so . . . naive. Didn't you think I would enjoy having two men?”
“Did you?”
“Very much, although we were all so embarrassed the next morning, we never repeated the experience.”
“Why were you embarrassed?”
“We were very young,” she said. There was a long pause. “I'm older, now, but I've never been in bed with a woman—in a threesome, I mean.”
“And not in a threesome?”
“Oh, sure. Most girls have tried that. It's not such a big deal as it is with men.”
“I've heard other women say that.”
“So, what do you think?”
“About what?”
“About a threesome, with Liz and me?”
Stone looked up ahead and saw an awning, with the restaurant's name emblazoned on it. “There's Taboo,” he said, grateful for an excuse to avoid answering.
A valet took the car, and Stone and Callie went inside. The bar was straight ahead, and Stone saw Paul Manning immediately.
19
T
HE BAR WAS UP FRONT, THE RESTAURANT AT THE REAR. The place was subtly lit, and a pianist was playing quiet jazz underneath the conversation at the busy bar. Stone spotted Detective Riley leaning against the piano, holding a glass apparently filled with mineral water. Riley motioned toward the bar, but Stone was already staring at Manning's back.
He nodded at Riley and turned to Callie. “See the tall man at the middle of the bar, talking to the brunette?”
“Yes.”
“Is that the man you saw at the party?”
“Looks like him from behind, but I can't see his face.”
“Come on.” Stone took her arm and guided her toward the couple. The brunette, looking past her companion, flicked an eye toward them, then turned back to her conversation.
Stone stopped a pace from the couple. “Paul!” he said, loudly enough to be sure he could be heard.
The man's head jerked around in an instantaneous reaction.
“That's the man,” Callie whispered.
“I'm Stone Barrington. I'm sure you remember.”
The man turned fully around and regarded Stone, his brow wrinkled. His hair was longish and dark, flecked with gray. “I don't believe we've met,” he said, “but weren't you at the Shames party the other night?”
Stone looked at him carefully. The face was thin, the nose straight. He was the right age, and there was a resemblance to the Paul Manning he had known, but the nose seemed to change everything. “Yes, I was, but we met some time ago, in St. Marks.”
“I'm sorry,” the man said. “I put into St. Marks a few years ago on a sailing charter, but I don't recall meeting you there.”
“I'm sure you remember your wife,” Stone said.
The brunette looked up sharply at the man.
“My wife died last year,” he said.
“Oh, longer ago than that,” Stone said.
“I think I would remember when my wife died,” the man said quietly.
The brunette spoke up. “You didn't tell me, Paul. I'm sorry.”
“I hadn't had time, yet, but thank you,” he said to her. He offered his hand to Stone. “I'm Paul Bartlett, and this lovely lady is Charmaine Tallman,” he said. “Perhaps you've mistaken me for someone else.”
Stone nodded at the woman and shook the man's hand. “Stone Barrington.”
“Do you live in Palm Beach, Stone?”
“No. How about you?”
“I arrived a couple of weeks ago.”
“How long do you plan to stay?” Stone asked.
“Actually, I'm house-hunting. I sold my business late last year, and I suppose I'm taking early retirement.”
“What sort of business?”
“Graphic design.”
“Where?”
“Minneapolis. I thought I'd try somewhere with a warmer winter. Florida seemed attractive. Where are you from, Stone?”
“New York,” Stone replied. The man displayed not a hint of nerves. Could he be mistaken?
“Did you think I was another Paul?”
“Does the name Paul Manning ring a bell?”
“Writer? I read some of his stuff a few years ago, but not recently.”
“How did you come to be at the Shames party?” Callie asked.
“I came with the Wilkeses,” he said. “We just stopped by for a drink on the way to another dinner.”
“How do you know the Wilkeses?”
“From Minneapolis. I used to do a lot of his company's design work—product packaging, mostly.”
Callie nodded.
“Does the name Allison ring a bell?” Stone asked.
“I had a secretary named Allison, once.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Stone saw Detective Riley moving slowly past them. He stopped a few feet behind Paul Bartlett.
“I can't get past the feeling that you think I'm someone else.”
“I can't get past that, myself,” Stone replied. “What was the name of your firm?”
“Bartlett and Bishop,” he replied. “We were bought out by a New York-based firm. May I offer you a drink?”
“Thanks, but we have to be going,” Stone said. “Perhaps I'll see you again. Where are you staying?”
“At the Chesterfield,” Bartlett replied. “Call me anytime.”
“Thanks. Ready, Callie?”

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