Stuart Woods - L.A. Dead

"Lots of people knew Vance slept around?"

"They did before he got married, but after that, he became a lot more discreet."

"He didn't stop sleeping around, he just became more discreet about it?"

"That's about right. As part of being more discreet, he might have slept with fewer women. I never discussed it with him."

"I don't mean to pry, but when you and Vance were sleeping together, it was after he was married?"

"Sure, you mean to pry, but I don't mind. Yes, it was afterward."

"Where did you meet?"

"My RV or his."

"Ever at his bungalow?"

"Once or twice, late, after Betty had gone for the day."

"He wouldn't have wanted Betty to know?"

"I guess not. Word was, they once had a thing going. Maybe he thought she might be jealous." Stone picked at his salmon and sipped his wine.

"What are you thinking, Stone?"

"Sorry, I was just letting my mind wander. Sometimes that helps me sort things out."

"Have you sorted something out?"

"No."

Charlene laughed.

"Beverly did something strange tonight."

"What did she do?"

Stone told her about the incident in the powder room.

"She was probably hoping you'd ravish her on the spot."

"No, it wasn't like that."

Charlene shrugged. "Did you talk to Dr. Lansing Drake at all?"

"No," Stone replied.

"He seemed to get a little skittish when I mentioned you."

"He behaved oddly at dinner last night, too. Why might he feel uncomfortable around me?"

"Damned if I know."

"Tell me about Dr. Drake."

"He's the doctor of choice in Beverly Hills and Bel-Air," Charlene said.

"Why?"

"He's pretty easygoing; if somebody wants a Valium prescription, he's not going to give them a hard time about it. He knows how to keep his mouth shut, too. I'll bet he's cured more cases of the clap and gotten more people secretly into rehab than any doctor in town."

"Is he a decent doctor?"

"There are jokes about that, but I've never heard anybody say he really screwed up on something. I mean, he hasn't killed anybody that I know of. I think his principal talent is that he knows when to refer somebody to a specialist. That's his motto: When in doubt, refer. He can't get into too much trouble that way."

"I gather he's pretty social."

"Oh, he doesn't miss too many parties. He's not on everybody's A list, but he probably makes most B-plus lists. I think that's where he gets most of his business. People sidle up to him at a party and ask him about a rash, or something, and the next thing you know they're his patients. He's very charming."

"Did Vance go to him?"

"Oh, Vance thought he was Albert fucking Schweitzer. I've heard him talk about Lansing in the most glowing terms."

"So Vance trusted him."

"Implicitly."

"Is he your doctor?"

"For anything up to and including a skint knee. I've got a gynecologist who gets most of my business. I'm a healthy girl; I've never really been sick with anything worse than the flu."

"I'm glad to hear it."

"As a matter of fact, I'm feeling particularly healthy tonight. You don't have to be anywhere, do you?"

"I'm happy where I am," he replied.

She stood up, took him by the hand, and led him into the house and toward her bedroom. Once there, she unzipped her dress and let it fall to the floor.

"Promise you won't ruin my health," he said.

"Sugar," she replied, working on his buttons, "I'm not making any such promise."

"Be gentle," he said.

"Maybe," she replied, leading him toward the bed, and not by the hand.

Stone made it back to the Centurion bungalow, tired but happy, around ten A.M. Louise was at her desk, and she handed him a message from Brandy Garcia.

"He works from an answering machine," Stone said to the secretary. "Call and leave a message that he can reach me now."

"Dino Bacchetti called, too. He said you have the number."

"Right, I'll call him." Stone shaved and changed into fresh clothes, then went into the study. He was about to call Dino when Louise buzzed him.

"Brandy Garcia on line one."

Stone picked up the phone. "Hello?"

Garcia wasted no time on pleasantries. "I thought you should know that our mutual acquaintance from Tijuana is back in town."

"What?"

"Apparently, his sister-the one he lived with when he was here- is sick, and he's taking care of her kids."

"I thought you told him to lose himself."

"I did, my friend, but I can't follow him all over Mexico to make sure he stays down there."

"Do you have a number for his sister's house?"

"Got a pencil?"

"Shoot." Stone jotted down the number. "Call him and tell him to keep his head down."

"Will do, Chief." Garcia hung up.

Stone sighed. It was bad enough that Beverly Walters was going to testify, but if Cordova appeared in court, he might lend credence to her story. He called Marc Blumberg.

"Morning, Stone. Where'd you sleep last night?"

"None of your business," Stone replied.

Blumberg laughed. "You seemed to be hanging back when everybody else was leaving."

"We had dinner, and that's all you need to know."

"Okay, okay, what's up?"

"Our friend Cordova has turned up in LA. again."

"That's bad," Blumberg replied. "I filed a motion to dismiss this morning. I hope we can get a hearing scheduled before the police find him."

"The one thing we've got going for us is that the police aren't looking for Cordova, although he doesn't know that."

"Do you know where to find him?"

"Yes. I can get a message to him if the police suddenly get interested."

"You want to prep Arrington, or shall I?"

"You'd better do it; she's not speaking to me at the moment."

"Oh? What went wrong?"

"It's too complicated to go into. Let's just say that she got angry about something she didn't have a good reason to be angry about."

"Stone, you are the only man I know whose relations with women are more complicated than mine."

"That's not how I planned it, believe me. Will you call Arrington?"

"Okay, whatever you say."

"How are you planning to handle Beverly Walters?"

"I'm planning to shred her on the stand."

"She may have been sleeping with Vance; I'm still working on finding out."

"Even if she wasn't, I think I'll ask her anyway. Several times, maybe. Anything we can do to damage her credibility puts us one step closer to getting Arrington out of this."

"I think you're right. Let me make another call to see if I can find out more."

"Let me know when you do."

"See you later." Stone hung up and buzzed Louise. "What time is it in Hawaii?" he asked.

"Three or four hours earlier than here, I think."

"You've got Betty Southard's hotel number, haven't you?"

"She's moved to a rented cottage, and I have the number."

"Go ahead and get her on the phone, and let's hope she's an early riser."

"I'll buzz you."

Stone sat thinking about Beverly Walters and Felipe Cordova and what they could mean to the charges against Arrington. The phone buzzed, and Stone picked it up. "Betty?"

"Aloha, stranger," she said.

"Hope I didn't get you up."

"You know I'm an early riser," she said. "Wish you were here to get my heart started in the morning."

"A pleasant thought, but I'm still needed here. You enjoying yourself?"

"So much that I'm thinking of making a permanent move here. Will you come see me?"

"When you least expect it."

"Why'd you call? Surely not just to wake me up."

"I wanted to ask you something."

"Go ahead."

"Beverly Walters. Did she and Vance ever have a thing?"

"Why do you ask?"

"Because she's the key prosecution witness against Arrington, and I need to know as much as possible about her."