She squeezed harder. "Stone," she said, "you don't want to turn down the best piece of ass on the North American Continent, do you?"
Stone got to his feet, and his condition was something of an embarrassment. She got up, too. "Charlene," he said, "I don't doubt you for a moment, but, believe me, it could mean big trouble for both of us."
"It might be worth it," she said, rubbing her body against his.
Stone was backing away, but he could not bring himself to disagree. "I have to leave," he said, turning for the door.
"All right," she sighed, "but when this trial is over, you call me, you hear?"
Stone waved and walked quickly through the house and to his car. When he was finally behind the wheel, he noticed that he was breathing harder than the effort had required.
Chapter 26
Stone drove slowly back to the studio, top down, trying to enjoy the California weather, instead of thinking about Charlene Joiner. He had read the newspaper accounts of her long-ago affair with the senator and presidential candidate Will Lee, and he had every sympathy for the senator. She was extraordinarily beautiful, all over, and, if Betty Southard's account of her prowess in bed was true, the senator was lucky to get out with his scalp.
He could not make the randiness go away. Just when he thought he had it under control, he passed the public beach area near Sunset, and a girl walking along the sand in a bikini got him going again. Stone sighed and tried to think pure thoughts.
As he walked into the studio bungalow, the phone was ringing, and Betty answered it.
"It's for you," she said.
Stone went into the study and picked up the phone. "Hello?"
"Stone, it's Rick Grant."
"Hi, Rick, what's up?"
"I just wanted to see how you're doing. I heard about the scene at the D.A.'s office. Blumberg pulled that one out of the fire."
"At least, temporarily."
"It was a shitty thing for the D.A. to do-try to make her spend the weekend in jail."
"Do I detect a sympathetic note?"
"Sort of."
"Rick, what have they got on her that they're not telling us?"
"I can't get into that," Rick replied, "but there is something I can tell you."
"Please do."
"They found a good footprint outside the French doors leading to the pool. A Nike, size twelve."
"That's interesting."
"The guy had walked through some sprinkler-dampened dirt, or something; there was only one good one, but they got a photograph of it."
"I learned something else," Stone said.
"Tell me."
"There was a Mexican gardener there, on both the Friday and Saturday, but he left the country Saturday night, went back to Tijuana, so he couldn't have been questioned by Durkee and Bryant."
"That's very interesting," Rick admitted.
"What's more, another customer of the same gardening service caught the guy in her living room, once. She thought he would have stolen something, left to his own devices."