Carnal Curiosity (7 page)

“They were waiting for me in a van when I left the house this
morning. I suspect they had spent the night there, hoping to catch me with you. They followed me to the park.”

“What did they have to say?”

“Hardly anything. I borrowed a softball bat from a nearby citizen and persuaded them to go away. One of them left a Glock in his wake, which I deposited in the Central Park Reservoir. Your drinking water may taste a little like gun oil for a few days.”

“This is not good news,” she said.

“I didn’t view it as such. I hope I don’t have to shoot them on some future occasion.”

“I don’t know what to do about this,” she said.

“Leave it with me. I think we can resolve it at your Wednesday morning hearing.”

“I could speak to Don.”

“You don’t need to do that—in fact, you shouldn’t.”

She leaned over and kissed him under an ear. “I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you, but I’ll trust you to handle it.”

“Shouldn’t be a problem.”

They finished dinner and left the dishes for Helene to take care of later.

Stone explored a little and discovered that she wasn’t wearing underwear under the short dress. He cupped a cheek in one hand and pulled her to him. “You can dress this way anytime you like.”

“I do it all the time, when I’m not working,” she said. “Can we go upstairs and fuck now?”

“Oh, yes,” Stone said, leading her toward the elevator.

She was, if anything, even more avid than the last time they had been together, and he was incredibly excited to have her
back in his bed. It was eleven o’clock before they could leave each other alone for a while.

“Can we watch the news?” she asked.

“Sure,” he said, switching it on.

“Someone told me that Don got into an argument with someone in the restaurant at the Waldorf yesterday. I want to see if there’s any follow-up.”

There wasn’t. “Does he do this sort of thing often?” Stone asked.

“He’s always getting into fights, and at the slightest excuse. Road rage is a problem, too.”

“I think we need to get you a protection order on Wednesday,” he said.

“I don’t think it will stop him,” she said.

“It will let you put him in jail if he bothers you again.”

“I did that once before—it just made him angrier. Can I borrow a gun from you?”

“You’d need a license just to have it in your home,” Stone said, “and that takes time. I can arrange some protection for you for a couple of weeks, until things cool down.”

“What about protection for you?”

“You really think he’ll continue to come after me?”

“Yes, I do. I’m sorry I got you mixed up in this. If we hadn’t run into him at that party, he wouldn’t even know about you.”

“It’s not your fault, Crane.”

“Maybe not, but I still feel guilty.”

Stone switched off the TV and pulled her to him. “Let me see what I can do to help you forget about it,” he said, burying his face in her lap.

She stayed until Monday morning, and he walked her out
the back way, through Turtle Bay Gardens. A gate led out to Second Avenue, and he put her in a cab there.

She kissed him. “You be careful,” she said.

“I’ll have somebody call you at your office later this morning about security arrangements,” he said, helping her into the cab.

He went to his office and called Bob Cantor, who he sometimes used for help with security.

“What can I do for you?” Bob asked.

“I need a team of two men, armed, to keep a woman safe from her estranged husband, a large and angry man.”

“You have anything to do with the estrangement, Stone?”

“Nope, they were estranged for two years before I met her. She has a divorce hearing in family court Wednesday morning.”

“You want them armed?”

“Yes, indeed.” Stone gave Bob the number. “Have them pick her up at work when she leaves the office today.”

“I’m on it,” Bob replied.

13

O
n Wednesday morning Stone went down to the courthouse and took a seat at the rear of the Family Court hearing room. Crane and Herbie Fisher were already seated at their table, and an attorney was at the other table, but no sign of Don Dugan.

The judge, a woman in her late thirties, entered the courtroom, and everyone stood, then sat.

“Case of Dugan v. Dugan,” the judge said. “Are both parties present?”

Dugan’s attorney stood up. “Bob Harvey for Mr. Dugan. Judge, my client seems to have been detained, and I can’t reach him on his cell phone. I move to continue the hearing at a later date.”

Herbie was on his feet. “Your Honor, Herbert Fisher for Mrs. Dugan. This is the third occasion on which Mr. Dugan has failed to appear after giving assurances. He has repeatedly delayed proceedings, settlement conferences, and other meetings for a period of two years. The parties have agreed on a
property settlement, notarized copies are before you, and we move for an immediate final decree.”

Don Dugan strode into the courtroom and down the center aisle, joining his attorney. “Sorry about that, Judge. Traffic was bad.”

The judge glared at him. “It’s always bad and no excuse for a late appearance. In your absence, Mr. Dugan, I have a motion from Mrs. Dugan’s attorney for the immediate issuance of a final decree.”

“Well, I think we need to talk about this some more,” Dugan said.

His attorney whispered something in his ear, and he whispered back.

“Well?” the judge asked.

“We are ready to proceed, Judge,” Dugan’s attorney said.

“That’s very kind of you, Mr. Harvey. Mr. Dugan, have you read the settlement agreement?”

“Well, not all the way through,” Dugan said. “My attorney told me to sign it, so I did, but I don’t want a divorce.”

Stone looked at Herbie, who was saying nothing, apparently, allowing Dugan all the rope he needed to hang himself.

“Mr. Dugan,” the judge said, “I assume you agree with the settlement amount—two hundred and fifty thousand dollars, in your favor.”

“Oh, yes, Judge. I figure she owes me that. I had a lot of expenses.”

“I see that you cohabited for something less than six months. Is that correct?”

“Yes, Judge.”

“What extraordinary expenses associated with the marriage did you incur in that brief period?”

Dugan looked at her blankly. “Uh, I’m not sure what you mean.”

“For instance,” the judge said, “did Mrs. Dugan come to the marriage with a burden of debt that you paid off?”

“I’m not sure I remember,” Dugan said. His attorney remained mute.

“I’m waiting for you to explain why you believe your wife owes you a quarter of a million dollars,” the judge said.

“Because she agreed to it,” Dugan replied.

“I see. Mrs. Dugan?”

Crane rose. “Yes, Your Honor?”

“Why are you giving your husband all this money? Do you figure you owe him this?”

“No, Your Honor. I agreed to pay him so that I could finally bring an end to the farce of our marriage.”

“Did you bring debts to the marriage?”

“No, Your Honor,” Crane replied. “In fact, I paid off more than a hundred thousand dollars of his credit card debt.”

“Mr. Dugan, is that true?”

“I don’t remember anything like that,” Dugan replied.

Herbie was on his feet, with a sheaf of papers in his hand. “Your Honor, I have copies of the bills right here.” He handed them to the bailiff, who took them to the judge.

She looked them over for a long couple of minutes. “I see here that you had a great deal of debt before your marriage, Mr. Dugan, and that it was all paid off the week before your marriage date. Is that consistent with the facts?”

“Ah, I guess so, Judge.”

“Mr. Dugan,” she said, “it appears to me that you are using this divorce to extort money from your wife. Is there anything you wish to say to the contrary?”

Dugan and his lawyer conducted another whispered exchange. “My client doesn’t wish to argue the point, Your Honor,” Harvey said.

“I didn’t think so,” she said. “Mr. Fisher, your motion for a decree is granted, but the settlement agreement is vacated.”

“What?” Dugan shouted. His attorney grabbed him by a lapel and whispered something.

“Your Honor,” Herbie said, “I have prepared a decree which restores Mrs. Dugan’s maiden name, and also have a motion for a protection order, requiring Mr. Dugan to remain at a distance of at least one hundred yards.” He handed the documents to the bailiff. “Please note that the order is drawn to also protect my colleague, Mr. Stone Barrington, who is associated with this case.”

The judge took the document from the bailiff and read it quickly. “Why is Mr. Barrington included?”

“Your Honor, this past Saturday, Mr. Barrington was accosted in Central Park by two employees of Mr. Dugan, two brothers named Drago, one of whom was armed with a handgun. Mr. Barrington managed to discourage and disarm them, but we would not like a recurrence of such an event.”

“Anything, Mr. Harvey?”

“Nothing, Your Honor.”

“Granted,” the judge said, signing the documents with a flourish and returning them to Herbie. “Anything else?”

“We request attorney’s fees in the amount of fifty thousand dollars,” Herbie said.

“Mr. Harvey?”

“Nothing, Your Honor.”

“Mr. Dugan is ordered to pay attorney’s fees in the amount of fifty thousand dollars,” she said. “Forthwith.”

Dugan opened his mouth to speak, but his attorney beat him to it. “Nothing, Your Honor.”

“Then this case is concluded. Next case?”

Stone’s car, with Fred Flicker at the wheel, awaited them outside the courthouse, and the three of them piled into the rear seat.

“I’m not sure I understand,” Crane said. “When is the new hearing?”

“We’re done, Crane,” Herbie said. “You are a free woman, you have back your name, and you and Stone both have a protection order against Dugan. I’ll press Harvey for the attorney’s fees.”

“I’m flabbergasted,” she said. “A week ago I was in the middle of an unsolvable divorce, and now…”

“Now it’s over,” Stone said. “Herb, who was that judge?”

“She’s new to Family Court, but I’ve known her for years. I knew that she had strong opinions about women and settlements.”

“Fred, get us out of here,” Stone said.

As they drove away, Stone saw Dugan and his attorney standing on the courthouse steps, shouting at each other.

14

F
red dropped Stone at his house first. “Dinner tonight?” he asked Crane.

“If you don’t mind, I think I need a night off.”

“Of course.”

“And I think you can call off the security, since I have the protection order now.”

“Okay, if you think so.” He got out of the car, and Fred drove off to deliver Herbie and Crane to their offices.

Joan was laying for him with a fistful of messages. “Where have you been?”

“In court.”

“For what? You don’t have any cases at trial.”

“I sat in on Crane’s hearing. She’s now a free woman.”

“Bill Eggers has called you three times. You’d better get back to him first.”

“All right. Please call Bob Cantor and tell him Crane doesn’t need protection anymore. He can call off his men.” Stone went into his office and called Eggers. “Hi, Bill.”

“I had a call this morning from Jeb Barnes at Steele Insurance,” Eggers said.

“How is Jeb?”

“Mad as hell.”

“About what?”

“He says you robbed him of one of his favorite employees.”

“And who would that be?”

“Somebody called either Hart Crane or Crane Hart, I can’t remember which. Who is the gentleman?”

“Crane Hart, and it’s a lady.”

“And how did you engineer her departure from Steele? Did you get Mike Freeman to hire her away?”

“I certainly did not. I took her to an event at Strategic Services—you were there, you saw her.”

“The dishy blonde?”

“If you say so.”

“And did you ask Mike to hire her?”

“I did not. He called and asked me what I thought, and I told him I had no knowledge of her professional qualifications, except for a single meeting we had when she was adjusting my insurance claim.”

“This sounds fishy to me.”

“I stayed out of any business Mike had with Crane, I promise you.”

“Then I think you’d better call Jeb Barnes and tell him that.”

“I will, if you like.”

“I like.” Eggers hung up.

Stone buzzed Joan. “Get me Jeb Barnes at Steele Insurance.”

Barnes was shortly on the line. He was not Stone’s favorite
insurance executive. Fortunately, he was not the client, his boss was.

“Jeb, I hear you’ve lost an employee and you’re blaming me.”

“I damn well do,” Barnes replied.

“Well, you’re wrong.”

“You got Mike Freeman to hire her, didn’t you?”

“I did not. I took her to an event at Mike’s office, but that was it. In fact, I was in court with her this morning, and she didn’t mention changing jobs.”

“In court? What for?”

“She was getting a divorce.”

“How did you know that?”

“I recommended an attorney to represent her.”

“She sent me her resignation in the interoffice mail this morning.”

“Perhaps you can make her a counteroffer,” Stone suggested.

“She just got a raise ten days ago.”

“Money works wonders, Jeb.”

“That woman was the best piece of…” Barnes didn’t finish the statement.

“What?”

“Never mind. Goodbye.”

Stone tried to imagine Crane in bed with Jeb Barnes, but he couldn’t, fortunately.

Stone began returning his other calls, but the thing with Crane ate at him all day. His last call of the day was to Viv Bacchetti.

“Hey, Stone.”

“Hey, Viv, sorry to take so long to get back to you. I was in court.”

“How long since you’ve been in court, Stone?”

“Long time.”

“You free for dinner tonight? Dino has a big cop dinner, and I’m at loose ends.”

“Sure.”

“Meet me at P.J. Clarke’s at seven-thirty, then.”