L.A. Dead (Stone Barrington 6)

Stone punched the end button, then dialed Marc Blumberg's Palm Springs number and punched the send button again.

"Hello?"

"Marc, it's Stone."

"Hi, there, you in the car?"

"Yeah, I'm just north of San Diego."

"What are you doing down there?"

"I've been to Tijuana to meet with Felipe Cordova, of Nike footprint fame."

"What did he have to say for himself?"

"It's a long story; why don't we get together when you're back in LA?"

"Why don't you come here, instead? I'll give you some dinner and put you up for the night. You could be here in a couple of hours."

"Okay, why not?"

"You got a map?"

"Yes."

"Take I-15 to just short of Temecula, then cut east over the mountains."

"Okay, what's the address?"

Blumberg gave him the street and number and directions to the house.

"See you in a while." He hung up, then saw a sign for I-15 just in time to make the turn.

He found the turnoff for Palm Springs and followed the curving mountain road, enjoying the drive. His head began to clear, and almost without effort, things started to line up in his mind. First of all, he still believed Arrington was innocent; second, he felt that Cordova was the best suspect; third, he was going to do whatever it took to get Arrington out of this. He forced himself to consider the possibility that Arrington had shot Vance. If so, he rationalized, it must somehow have been self-defense. He could not let her be convicted, especially after what had happened in New York. He was in her thrall again, if he had ever been out of it, and all he wanted at the moment was a future with Arrington in it. By the time he had found Marc Blumberg's house, his ducks were all in a row.

The house was a large contemporary, sculpted of native stone and big timbers, on several acres of desert. Marc greeted him warmly and led him out to the pool. The sun was low in the sky, and the desert air was growing cool. A tall, very beautiful woman was stretched out on a chaise next to the outside bar.

"This is Vanessa Pike," Marc said. "Vanessa, meet Stone Barrington."

The two shook hands. It was difficult for Stone not to appreciate her beauty, especially since she was wearing only the bottom of her bikini.

"What'll you drink?" Marc asked them both.

"I'll have a gin and tonic," Vanessa replied.

"So will I," Stone echoed.

Marc motioned him to a chair opposite Vanessa, who showed no inclination to cover herself, soaking up the waning rays of afternoon sun.

"Aren't you getting chilly?" Stone asked.

"I'm rarely chilly," she replied, with a level gaze.

"I believe you," Stone said.

Marc came back with the drinks and joined them. "So, how'd you ever find Cordova?"

"A friend at the LAPD put me in touch with a guy named Brandy Garcia, who knows the territory down there."