Stuart Woods - L.A. Dead

"Shoot, Stone, I could worm Beverly's genetic code out of her, if she knew it."

"Vanessa said something about this to me, and I wouldn't like for Beverly to know that. Vanessa felt she was breaking a confidence, just by mentioning the possibility."

"That sounds like Vanessa," Charlene said, looking misty for a moment. "Shed be true blue, even to Beverly."

"When do you think you could see her?"

"She'll be over at the house on Saturday, with the others, I'm sure; we'll have some commiserating to do over Vanessa."

"I'd appreciate any help you could give me."

Charlene smiled a small smile. "How much would you appreciate it?"

"A lot," Stone said.

"I don't believe you," Charlene replied. "It's Arrington, isn't it? She's why I can't get you in the sack."

"We're old and good friends," Stone said.

Charlene laughed. "Well, at least you didn't say you were just good friends. I don't blame you, Stone; she's perfectly gorgeous. I'd hop into bed with her in a minute."

Stone laughed, put down his fork, and stood up. "I'll tell her you said so, if the occasion should ever arise. I've got to get going. Thanks for the lunch, and, especially, for your help."

Charlene put down her wine glass, arose, and came toward Stone. She snaked one arm around his neck, hooked one leg around his and kissed him, long and deep.

Stone enjoyed the moment.

"Just you remember," she said, "you owe me one."

Stone released himself and made his way out of the RV On the short drive back to the bungalow, Stone made a concerted effort to forget how Charlene Joiner had looked naked and failed.

Stone spent the evening alone in Vance's bungalow, heating a frozen dinner and watching one of Vance's movies from a selection of videotapes in the study. It turned out to be one in which Charlene Joiner had costarred, and that didn't help him think pure thoughts. Her ability as an actress actually lived up to her beauty, which surprised him, though it was not the first of her movies he had seen.

He slept fitfully, then devoted the following day to a combination of Calder Estate business and correspondence FedEx'ed by Joan from New York, which kept his mind off naked women, living and dead. The noon news said that Daniel Pike was not a suspect in his ex-wife's death, but he didn't believe it. The police had probably leaked that information to make Pike think he was safe. He'd done the same thing, himself, in his time.

Arrington called early in the afternoon. "Dino and Mary Ann are arriving at three," she said, "and Manolo is meeting them. I can't wait to see them!"

"Same here," Stone said, and he meant it. Cut off from Arrington most of the time, he craved affectionate company.

"You be here at seven," she said.

"Can I bring anything?"

"Yes, but I don't think you'll share, in your present mood."

"When this is over, I'll share until you cry for mercy."

"Promises, promises! Bye." She hung up.

Stone left the studio at six-thirty, which would make him fashionably late to Arrington's. Then, after no more than a mile, the car's steering felt funny, and he pulled over. The front rear tire was flat. He thought of changing it himself, but there was a gas station a block away, and he didn't want to get his fresh clothes dirty, so he hiked down there and brought back a mechanic to do the work. As a result, he was half an hour late to dinner.

He entered through the front gate, for a change, and noted that there were no TV vans or reporters about. Manolo let him in and escorted him into the living room where Arrington, Dino, and Mary Ann sat on sofas before the fireplace. Another woman was there, too, but her back was to him.

He hugged Dino and Mary Ann, but when he made to embrace Arrington, she kept an elbow between them. "And look who else is here!" she cried, waving a hand toward the sofa. The other woman turned around.

"Dolce," Stone said weakly. "I've been trying to reach you."

"Well, you can reach me now," Dolce replied, patting the sofa next to her.

Stone started to take another seat, but Arrington took his arm tightly and guided him next to Dolce. "Dolce has told me your wonderful news!" Arrington said brightly, showing lots of teeth. "Let me congratulate you!"

Stone looked at Dino and Mary Ann, both of whom looked extremely uncomfortable. He sat down next to Dolce and submitted to a kiss on the cheek.

"My darling," she said, "how handsome you look tonight."

"I'm sorry I'm late," Stone said to Arrington, ignoring Dolce. "I had a flat tire on the way."

"Of course you did, Stone," she replied, as if he were lying.

Manolo brought him a Wild Turkey on the rocks, and Stone sipped it. This whole thing was insane; what was Dolce doing here? He discovered that he was sweating. "How was your flight?" he asked Dino and Mary Ann.

"Pretty much the same as being moved around the Chicago Stockyards with an electric cattle prod," Dino replied gamely, trying to hold up his end.

"Heh, heh," Stone said, taking a big swig of the bourbon. He stole a glance at Dolce, who was smiling broadly. He hoped she wasn't armed.

Across the coffee table, on the sofa opposite, Arrington was smiling just as broadly. She emptied a martini glass and motioned to Manolo for another. "Well, isn't this fun!" she said. "Old friends together again. How long has it been?"

"A long time," Mary Ann replied, as if it had not been long enough.

"Oh, Stone," Dino said, standing up. "I brought you something; come out to the guest house for a minute."

"Excuse me," Stone said to Arrington.

"Hurry back, now!" she replied.

Stone followed Dino out the back door and toward the guest house. "What the fuck is going on?" he demanded.

"How should I know?" Dino replied. "I didn't know Dolce was coming until she got here, ten minutes before you did. Mary Ann must have invited her, but she didn't say a goddamned thing to me about it." He opened the door to the guest house and led the way in.

"And she told Arrington we were married in Venice?"

"You bet she did, pal, and she laid it on thick. Arrington was smiling a lot, but she would have killed her, if there had been anything sharp lying around." Dino went to his suitcase and handed Stone his little Walther automatic, in its chamois shoulder holster.

"What am I going to do with this now?" Stone asked.

"I'd wear it if I were you," Dino replied. "You might need it before the evening is over."

Stone shucked off his jacket and slipped into the shoulder holster.

"My thirty-two automatic wasn't on your bedside table, where you said it would be, and it wasn't in your safe, either."

"That's weird," Stone said. "Helene wouldn't have touched it when she was cleaning; she hates guns, and Joan wouldn't have had any reason to be upstairs."

"I asked Joan about it, and she said she hadn't seen it."

Stone checked the Walther; it was loaded. He put the safety on and returned it to the holster.

"You're going to need a local permit for that, aren't you?" Dino asked.

"Rick Grant got me one last year when I was out here; it's in my pocket. Can you think of some way to get Dolce out of here? I've got to explain to Arrington what's going on."

"I should have thought you would have explained it to her a long time ago," Dino said. "That girl is really pissed off."

"I realize I should have," Stone said, "but I just didn't want to bring up Dolce while Arrington is in all this trouble."

"Well, you're the one who's in trouble, now, and we'd better get back in there, so you can face the music."

They went back into the house, and found Mary Ann struggling to keep some sort of conversation going.

Manolo came into the room. "Dinner is served, Mrs. Calder," he said.