D.C. Dead (Stone Barrington 22)

a little hungrily back when she was a murder suspect.”

“Good thing we cleared her,” Stone said. “It probably would have been unethical to go out with a suspect.”

“When did that ever stop you?”

“Is this the guy talking who was fucking a desk sergeant not so long ago?”

“Yeah, but she was a hot desk sergeant.”

“I can’t deny that. I always admired your guts, Dino. If that had come to light, you’d be walking a beat now, instead of moonlighting for the president.”

“Nah,” Dino said, “the commissioner and I are like that.” He held up crossed fingers. “The chief of detectives wouldn’t dare mess with me—at least not while he’s fucking a lieutenant in the Public Affairs office.”

“God, the department is a hotbed of illicit liaisons these days, isn’t it?”

“So what else is new?”

“It’s considerate of the chief to give you a get-out-of-jail-free card.”

“Yes, it is, isn’t it?”

“You’d better watch your ass if his lieutenant dumps him.”

“Don’t worry, I know her, she’s not stupid. She knows which side of her badge gets polished.”

“I’m going to try and make sense of that metaphor while I do the crossword,” Stone said, picking up the Times.

“Good luck.”

“With the metaphor or the crossword?”

“Both.”

Stone folded the paper back and looked at one-across. Almost immediately, the phone rang. “Hello?”

“It’s Holly.”

“Hey, there.”

“Did I wake you?”

“Wake me? I’m already on the crossword.”

“You want to take me to a fancy restaurant on Saturday night?”

“I’d love to, but I’ve accepted an invitation to a dinner party at Fair Sutherlin’s house.”

“I’m jealous already.”

“Oh, come on.”

“The woman’s a shark, you know.”

“And she seems so nice.”

“That’s because she knows you’re in with the president and the first lady.”

“You mean she’s not this nice to everybody?”