Swimming to Catalina (Stone Barrington 4)

“I was at a resort out in the desert.”

“Alone?”

“No.”

“Who were you with?”

“Betty Southard,” Stone said.

“Whose idea was it to go out there?”

“Betty’s.”

“Stone, I think you’re letting your cock do your thinking,” he said, “and remember, a cock doesn’t have a brain.”

29

Stone met Betty Southard at an Italian place called Valentino. He had intended to pick her up at her home, but she had insisted on meeting him at the restaurant. She gave him a big kiss, and they were shown to their table. They ordered drinks.

“How’re things going?” she asked.

“Not well,” Stone said. “I’m getting nowhere, and I’m thinking of packing it in and going back to New York.”

“I would be desolated,” she said, sipping her martini.

“I’m grateful for your desolation, but all I’m doing is chasing my tail and not getting any of my own work done.”

“Arrington’s home,” she said.

Stone blinked. “When?”

“Yesterday, apparently. Vance came into the office this morning whistling a merry tune and had me order some flowers for him.”

“Funny, I thought I caught a glimpse of Vance last night,” he said, “and he was alone.”

“Where?”

“I was having dinner with my cop friend, Rick Grant, at a Greek restaurant, and I could have sworn I saw him drive by in the Bentley.”

She shook her head. “Nope. Vance and Arrington bad dinner last night at the Bel-Air Hotel with some Centurion stockholders; I made the reservation.”

The lie wilted Stone inside. “Must have been my imagination.”

“Not really; there are two other green Bentleys just like Vance’s around town. You saw one of them.”

“Oh, well; I’m glad she’s back.”

“Vance thinks you’re in New York,” she said. “He dictated a thank you note to you this afternoon.”

“I wanted him to think that, after being followed from the restaurant last week. I wanted everybody but you to think I was back in New York.”

“I understand,” she said. “Shall we order?”

They both ordered a Caesar salad and the osso bucco, and Stone ordered a bottle of the Masi Amerone ’91. “It’s a big wine,” he said. “I think you’ll like it.”

“You seem a little depressed, baby,” she said, rubbing the inside of his thigh with her toe.

“It always depresses me when I’ve wasted a lot of time,” he said.