Bel-Air Dead (Stone Barrington 20)

Stone’s cell phone rang; the caller ID said Woodman amp; Weld.

“Hello?”

“Stone, it’s Bill Eggers.”

“Hey, Bill.”

“Our bank just called; we’ve received a wire transfer of the funds we sent Harvey Stein a few days ago. What’s going on?”

“Turns out Jim Long didn’t have the right to sell his shares; they were entailed.”

“Oh. How is that going to affect your gaining control of Centurion?”

“I don’t know; nobody knows anything at the moment. The shareholders’ meeting is tomorrow; any suggestions?”

“Yeah, use these funds to buy more shares.”

“None are for sale.”

“Then, unless you’ve got more than fifty percent without Long’s shares, to put it in legal terms, you’re fucked.”

“Well said, Bill.”

“Good luck to you.”

“Thanks so much.” Stone hung up. “Woodman amp; Weld got the funds paid for Long’s shares back, so if the note is in order, we’ll have to surrender the share certificate.”

“Swell,” Rick said.

49

Dino returned in time for dinner, and they all sat down. “How did your day go, Dino?” Stone asked.

“Nothing I can talk about,” Dino replied. He didn’t look any happier than anyone else.

Manolo came to the table to say that a messenger had arrived from Harvey Stein. Stone got up, retrieved Jim Long’s stock certificate from his briefcase, and went into the house to find Carolyn Blaine, clutching an envelope, waiting for him.

“Since when are you Harvey Stein’s messenger?” Stone asked her.

She handed him the envelope. “I can’t talk about that,” she said, avoiding his gaze. “The note is inside. Did you receive the funds Harvey wired back?”

“Yes,” Stone replied, opening the envelope and removing the photocopy of the note. He read it and found it in perfect order. “I suppose I could insist on seeing the original note before giving you the certificate,” he said.

“It wouldn’t matter,” Carolyn replied. “Jim’s attorney would just object to your voting his shares at the meeting, and you’d be back to square one.”

Stone knew that was true. He handed her the stock certificate and wondered if now would be a good time to tell “Carolyn Blaine” that he knew she was Dolly Parks-a large-scale thief and embezzler and possible murderer. He decided not, that a better time might come, though he couldn’t imagine when that would be, unless it was as the cuffs were being clapped on her beautiful wrists. “Good night,” he said, then turned and went back to the dinner table.

“I hope you found some flaw in the note Jim signed,” Rick said.

“I’m afraid not,” Stone replied. “I couldn’t have written it better myself.”

As the dinner dishes were being taken away Stone’s phone buzzed. “Hello?”

“Stone, it’s Ed Eagle; would you like to come over to the Bel-Air and have a drink with me?”

Stone looked at his watch; only a little past nine. “Sure, Ed, be there in five minutes.” He hung up. “Arrington, Rick, will you excuse me? A friend has asked me to come over to the Bel-Air for a drink, and I’d like to talk to him.”

“Of course,” Arrington said.