Bel-Air Dead (Stone Barrington 20)

nd have that drink.”

Stone nodded. He called the rental car company at Santa Monica Airport and told them he was going to need a new car.

“Any color but black,” he said. He gave her the address to deliver the new car.

“Where is the old car?” the woman asked.

“It’s here, but not drivable. I think you’d better call your insurer and get them to send somebody out here to look at it.”

“Did you wreck it?” she asked.

“Somebody did.”

“Is it totaled?”

“That would be my estimate,” Stone said, “but the insurance adjustor should make that call.”

“We’ll have a car out there inside of an hour,” the woman said, then hung up.

Manolo had gone into the house and came back with a broom and dustpan.

“No, no,” Stone said, “leave the pieces where they are. Do you have a fire extinguisher?”

Manolo went back into the house and came back with a small extinguisher.

“Never mind,” Stone said. “Let the fire department deal with it.”

An hour later the fire department had left, and so had the patrol car. A team from the crime lab were putting the pieces of the Mercedes on a flatbed truck. Stone, Dino, and Rivera sat at the patio table sipping iced tea, while Rivera took notes.

“So you think Prince did this. You want to add anything else?” Rivera asked.

“There’s nothing else to say,” Stone replied.

“Why do you think Prince did this?”

“He’s the only person in L.A. who might benefit from my demise.” Stone explained about the upcoming stockholders’ meeting at Centurion.

“And you think he destroyed this guy Schmeltzer’s car, too?”

“Yes, but I don’t think he expected Schmeltzer to be in it at the time.”

“Well, he sure must have expected you to be in this one,” Rivera said.

“Dino, remind me to always have you start the car,” Stone said.

Rivera closed his notebook. “It’s not too early for a drink, is it?”

“Why didn’t I think of that?” Dino asked.

Stone placed the order with Manolo, and they sat, sipping. “So, what’s the latest on Carter, from Parker Center?” Stone asked.

“We think he’s in Mexico,” Rivera replied. “His mother is from some little town in Sonora, and he still has family there.”

“You going to go after him?”

“Not yet; we have to find a way to prove that he directed some inmate or other to off James Long before we’ll have a charge that can stick. Just leaving off his job isn’t enough.”

“You know,” Stone said, “I’m no longer sure that Terry Prince is directing this little campaign of mayhem.” He told Rivera about Prince’s backers from the drug trade. “Doesn’t this sound a whole lot more like them?”