Stuart Woods - L.A. Dead

Stone STOOD, his hands against the tile wall of the shower, his head under the heavy stream of water. His knees were trembling. He had no idea what time it was, except that the sun was up.

The bronzed glass door opened, and Charlene stepped in. She grabbed a bottle of something, sprayed it on his back, and began soaping his body. "How you doing, Sugar?"

"I'm shattered," he said. "I can hardly stand up."

"I can't imagine how that happened," she giggled. "All we did was make love."

"How many times?"

"Several," she replied. "Who's counting?"

He leaned back against the tile and let her soap him. "I have the strange but almost certain feeling that sometime early this morning I passed some sort of physical peak in my life, and that everything from here on is downhill."

"Sugar," she said, "that's the sort of peak that most men hit at eighteen. You should be pleased with yourself."

"I'm never going to be the same again; I can hardly stand up. You may have to carry me out of here."

She pulled him back under the shower and rinsed him, then turned off the shower. "Maybe if you hold my hand you can make it."

She led him out of the stall, dried him and herself with fat towels, and found robes for them both. "Come on, Hon; breakfast is on the table.

He followed her through the sliding doors and onto a terrace overlooking the beach. When they sat down a low wall cleverly blocked the view from the sand, but still allowed them a panorama of the sea. It was nicely private.

She removed the covers from two plates. His was eggs, home fries, sausages, and muffins; hers was a slice of melon.

"Why do I have so much and you so little?" he asked, digging in.

"Because you need your strength, and I need to keep my ass looking the way it does without surgery."

"It looks wonderful, especially up close."

"You should know; you were in and out of there a few times."

Stone sneezed.

"God bless you."

"I hope I'm not getting a cold."

"I don't think you can get a cold from anal sex."

"Good point; maybe I'm just allergic to something."

"For a while there, I thought you might be allergic to me."

Stone shook his head. "Not in the least."

"Then what took you so long to knock on my door?"

"Call it misplaced loyalties."

"That's it," she agreed. "Neither one of them deserves you." She smiled. "Only me. Tell me, do you always wear a gun to assignations?"

"What?"

"I seem to recall removing a shoulder holster from your body, along with everything else. Did you feel you needed a lot of protection from me?"

"A friend brought it out from New York for me. No offense."

"None taken."

Stone finished his eggs and poured them some coffee. "When are you going to see Beverly Walters?"

"Yesterday."

"You've already talked to her?"

"Well, you didn't give me a chance to tell you last night."

"What did she say?"

"She was coy, which is unlike Beverly. Normally, she spills everything, usually without being asked."

"But not yesterday?"

Charlene shook her head. "She had a secret, and she wasn't going to tell me. I couldn't worm it out of her."

"She was there, I think. She must have seen what happened."

"If I were you, I'd be worried."

"I am.

"What's your next move?"

"I don't know. We could depose her, get her under oath."

"Why?"

"The idea is to find out what the prosecution witness knows."

Charlene sighed. "The problem with that, Stone, is you don't want to know."

She had a point, he thought.

Stone got back to the studio bungalow a little before eleven. Louise Bremen, from the studio secretarial pool, was at Betty's desk. "Good morning," she said, handing him a phone message. It was from Dino, and the return number was at the Calder guest house.

"Good morning," he replied, pocketing the message.

"Oh, you've spilled something on your jacket," Louise said.

Stone had forgotten about the gazpacho from the night before.

"Take it off, and I'll send it over to wardrobe for you; they'll get the stain out."

"Thanks," Stone said. He went into the bedroom, took off the jacket, and put the Walther and its holster into a drawer, then he took the jacket back to Louise. "Have we heard anything from Dolce Bianchi?"

"Not a peep," she replied.

"Good." He went into the study and called Dino.

"Hello."

"Hi."

Dino spoke softly, as if he didn't want to be overheard. "Let's meet for lunch," he whispered.

"Okay, come over here, and we'll go to the studio commissary. Borrow a car from Manolo; he'll give you directions."

"In an hour?"

"Good." They both hung up. Stone buzzed Louise and asked her to arrange a studio pass for Dino.

Dino was introduced to Louise, then Stone showed him around the bungalow.

"These movie stars live pretty well, don't they?" he said.

"Better than cops and lawyers."

"Better than anybody. That guest house we're staying in is nicer than any home I've ever had."

"The pleasures of money."

"I'm hungry; let's eat. We can talk over lunch."

Stone drove him slowly through the studio streets, pointing out the exterior street set and the sound stages.

"It's like a city, isn't it?" Dino said.

"It has just about everything a city has, except crime."

"Yeah, that happens in Bel-Air and Beverly Hills."

Stone parked outside the commissary, which was a brick building with a walled garden. Stone showed the hostess his VIP studio pass, and they were given a table outside, surrounded by recognizable faces.

Dino took it all in, pointing out a movie star or two, then they ordered lunch.

"All right, what happened after I left last night?" Stone asked.

"Not much. What could compare to the scene just before you left?"

"What was Dolce doing there?"

"Mary Ann invited her, with Arrington's permission. It was an innocent thing on both their parts, I guess.".

"How innocent could it be? Mary Ann was in Venice; she knew everything."

"She thought Arrington knew everything, too. You didn't tell her?"

"I hadn't found the right moment," Stone said.

"She was pretty upset after you left, even though she tried not to show it. I tried to smooth things over, but she wouldn't talk about you."

"I've never been double-teamed like that," Stone said.

"I felt sorry for you, but there was nothing I could do. You're going to have to find some way to square things with Arrington."

"As far as I'm concerned, the ball's in her court. I was ambushed, and I didn't like it."

"That wasn't her intention, Stone."

"Maybe not, but the result was the same."

"Fortunately, Dolce left when you did. Did you go together?"

"No, I outran her."

"You can't run forever."

"What else can I do? You can't talk to her like a normal human being. I've got Marc Blumberg working on an Italian divorce."

"I have a feeling this is not going to be as easy as divorce."

"Funny, I have the same feeling," Stone replied.

When they got back to the bungalow, Louise came into the study. "Lou Regenstein's secretary called. Lou would like you to come to an impromptu dinner party he's giving for some friends at his house tonight. He says to bring somebody, if you'd like. It's at seven-thirty." She laid the address on his desk.

"Let me make a call," Stone said. He found the number for Charlene's RV and dialed it.

"Hey, Sugar," she said. "How you feeling?"

"I think I've recovered my health. Would you like to go to a dinner party tonight?"

"Sure, but I won't be done here until six-thirty or seven."

"Have you got something that you could wear? We could leave from here."

"I've got just the thing," she said. "I wore it in a scene this morning."