Dirt (Stone Barrington 2) - Page 123

“Mrs. Burch?”

“Louise Burch.”

“My name is Stone Barrington; I’m an attorney. I wonder if I might speak to you for a few minutes.”

“Why not?” she said gaily. “Come on back to the kitchen.”

He caught a whiff of alcohol as he followed her down a hallway, past a quite formal living room and a small library, to the kitchen, which turned out to be a very large room, with a comfortable seating area before a fireplace. There was a fire going, and a half-empty glass of some brown liquor on the coffee table. There was a stack of house design magazines on the table as well; she had obviously been going through them.

“Please have a seat,” she said, indicating the sofa. “I know it’s a little early, but I’m having a drink; can I get you one?”

Thinking that having a drink in his hand might make it a bit harder for her to throw him out when she learned why he was there, he accepted. “Bourbon, if you have it.”

“Wild Turkey okay?”

“That would be splendid; on the rocks, please.” He looked out the window at the snow. “It’s becoming a nasty day out there.”

She returned shortly with a large drink for him, then sat next to him on the sofa, turned toward him, and drew her knees up, revealing fine legs under a short skirt. “Now, whatever can I do for you, Mr…”

“Barrington. Stone.”

“Stone,” she said. “I’m Lou. You said you’re a lawyer?”

“Yes, in New York.”

“And what brings you all the way from the city on a day like today?”

“I wanted to talk to you about your brothers.”

She gave a short, sharp laugh. “You’re a policeman, aren’t you?”

“I used to be.”

“And now you practice at the bar?”

“Yes. Why did you laugh when I said I was here about your brothers?”

“Well, Stone, you aren’t exactly the first,” she said. “There have been a parade of policemen through my house over the years, usually looking for Charlie. But you said ‘brothers,’ in the plural, didn’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Funny, no one has ever come looking for Tommy before.”

Stone sipped his drink. “I was wondering if you know how I could get in touch with them? Either or both?”

“Now, why would a lawyer want to get in touch with my brothers? A cop, I could understand, but a lawyer? Do you want to sue one of them?”

“No, as a matter of fact, although I am a lawyer, I’m not here in that capacity. It’s more of a personal matter.”

“How did you get my name and address?” she asked.

“From someone in Washington who used to know Tommy.” That was technically correct. “He didn’t have a current address.”

“Washington, huh? Yes, Tommy used to live there; Tommy has lived in lots of places, lots of countries. He was something in the diplomatic corps, I believe. He was always hazy about exactly what he did.”

“Have you…” He was interrupted by the telephone ringing.

“Excuse me,” she said, then got up and went to a counter where the phone rested. “Hello? Oh, yes, honey, how are you? Everything going well?”

Tags: Stuart Woods Stone Barrington Mystery
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