Swimming to Catalina (Stone Barrington 4)

“Four-one-one-four,” he said.

“Go into the terminal, rent a car, and go to my house. I’ll be home around seven, and we can talk.”

Stone smiled and kissed her. “You’re doing the right thing,” he said.

“I hope to God I am,” she replied, “or I’m going to be in a lot of trouble.”

14

Stone was feeling flush, what with a check for twenty-five thousand dollars in his pocket, so he asked the rental car agent for a Mercedes. After half an hour’s wait, he was picked up and driven to the agency’s Beverly Hills location, where he was given a choice of a dozen luxury cars, including a Rolls-Royce. He chose a Mercedes SL500, which had a smaller engine than he had grown accustomed to but would do in a pinch.

Using the supplied map, he found his way to Betty’s house, which was on a quiet street south of Wilshire Boulevard in Beverly Hills, near Neiman-Marcus. He let himself into the house, tapped in the alarm code, and left his luggage, including his elegant new suitcase, by the stairs. He thought the house probably dated from the thirties, but it had been renovated in striking fashion and was handsomely furnished. Apparently there was good money in working for movie stars.

He checked the refrigerator and found the makings of a sandwich, along with a lot more food, and had some lunch, then he found his way upstairs, hung up his clothes, and collapsed on Betty’s king-sized bed. It was after six when he awoke.

He went back downstairs, checked the fridge again, and looked through the cabinets, then started making dinner. At a quarter past seven he heard the front door open, and Betty walked into the kitchen.

“Jesus, it smells good in here,” she said. “What are you making?”

“Just some pasta; would you like a glass of your wine?”

“Thank you, yes sir.”

He poured her a glass of chardonnay. “So how was the rest of your day?”

“Weird. I’m unaccustomed to keeping things from Vance.”

“I appreciate your helping me.”

“As long as I’m helping Vance, too.”

He got dinner onto the kitchen table, and they sat down.

“This is delicious!” she said. “I don’t know why I would have wanted the chef from Grimaldi’s, when I could have you.”

“Anytime,” Stone said, raising his glass.

“I’ll drink to that.”

“Why don’t you bring me up to date on what you know so far? Start when Arrington disappeared.”

“I didn’t know she had disappeared,” Betty said. “Vance came into the office and said she had to go back to Virginia to see her folks about some family matter. I got her a round-trip ticket to Dulles and sent it over to the house. I assumed she made the plane.”

“Was there anything in Vance’s behavior that was different from the way he usually is?”

“He seemed preoccupied, I suppose, starting that day. I had to tell him things two or three times before he’d remember them. That was about it.”

“Had he ever been that way before?”

“Yes, I suppose he had, when he’d had something on his mind. Vance tells me a lot, but he doesn’t tell me everything, and usually I don’t ask.”

“Did he get any unusual phone calls around that time?”

“What do you mean by ‘unusual’?”

“Any calls that frightened him or made him angry?”

“Vance is an actor, and like most actors he’s always acting. He doesn’t give away much.”