Bel-Air Dead (Stone Barrington 20)

“Tell the one in the house not to be standing at Mrs. Calder’s door when she wakes up. He must be discreet until I’ve told her about the security.”

“Yes, Mr. Stone.”

“We’ll have some of your eggs Benedict for breakfast, this time with smoked salmon instead of ham.”

“Yes, Mr. Stone.”

His cell buzzed again. “Hello?”

“It’s Eggers.”

“Good day, Bill.”

“We faxed the sales documents for Mr. Long’s Centurion stock to Harvey Stein a couple of hours ago.”

“That’s good news. How about Baird’s documents?”

“Faxed to you; also, the corporate documents and sales agreement for Arrington’s airplane. Also, instructions to Chase to allow us to transfer funds from her account on her behalf. Make sure she signs where indicated. As soon as you fax that back to Chase, we can wire the funds for exercising the options on her adjoining property.”

“Certainly. You know, Bill, it’s great to have the firm behind me like this. I could never have gotten it all done on my own.”

“You need the firm now, because you have the clients to support.”

“Of course.”

“And the extension of Arrington’s line of credit has been granted for two hundred million.”

“Again, thanks.” Stone said goodbye, then hung up.

Stone ran his belt through the loops, then stopped. He took his travel gun, a Colt Government. 380, from his case and put it on his belt, then slipped into a linen jacket to cover it.

His cell buzzed again. “Hello?”

“Stone, it’s Harvey Stein.”

“How is Jim?”

“He was in a coma when I got there-result of loss of blood, and he hasn’t come to since the surgery.”

“Prognosis?”

“No better than a fifty-fifty chance of recovery. If he crashes now, we’ll have to start thinking about unplugging him. I’m his medical surrogate and his executor, so it will be up to me to decide if and when.”

“I don’t envy you that, Harvey.”

“I don’t envy me that, either. I’ll call when there’s news.” He hung up.

Carolyn made it in twenty minutes, and Manolo showed her out to the pool, where he had set the table.

“You look flustered,” Stone said. “Breakfast will be here shortly; would you like a mimosa?”

“No, thank you, just some orange juice.”

Stone poured them each a glass from the pitcher on the table. “Now,” he said, “what’s up?”

“First of all, Terry Prince found out yesterday that you had been to see James Long in jail, and that he had agreed to sell you his stock.”

“Oh? How did he know about that?”