Chapter 57
With Dino navigating, Stone found the house. It was on Mulholland Drive, high above the city, a contemporary structure anchored to the mountainside by a cradle of steel beams. The front door was at street level, but the rear deck, Stone noticed, was high above the rocky hillside. The house was dark, but there was a sedan with a Hertz sticker on the bumper parked in the carport.
Stone parked on the roadside and headed for the front door, but Dino stopped him.
"Give me a couple of minutes to get around back," he said.
"Dino, the back of the house is at least fifty feet off the ground."
"Just give me a couple of minutes."
Stone stood at the roadside and looked out at what was nearly an aerial view of Los Angeles-a carpet of lights arranged in a neat grid, disappearing into a distant bank of smog, with a new moon hanging overhead. The air seemed clearer up here, he thought, taking a deep breath of mountain air. How had it come to this? he wondered. What had started as a passionate affair and had ripened into something even better was now broken into many pieces, ruined by Dolce's obsession with him and his own bond with Arrington. He didn't know where this would all end, but nothing looked promising. He glanced at his watch, then started up the driveway to the house.
The house's entry was dark, but as he approached, his feet crunching on gravel, he saw that the front door was ajar. He stopped and listened for a moment. Music was coming from somewhere in the interior of the house-a Mozart symphony, he thought, though he couldn't place it. Some instinct told him not to ring the doorbell. He pushed the door open a little and stepped inside into a foyer. He could hear the music better now. It seemed to be coming from the living room, beyond. He moved forward. A little moon and starlight came through the sliding glass doors to the deck, on the other side of the living room. He walked down a couple of steps. He could see the dim outlines of furniture. Then the silence was broken.
"I knew you'd come, Stone," Dolce said.
Stone jumped and looked around, but he couldn't find her. "Do you mind if we turn on a light?"
"I prefer the dark," she said. "It's better for what I have to do."
"You don't have to do anything, Dolce," he said. "Just relax; let's sit down and talk for a little while."
"Talking's over," she said. "We're way beyond talk, now."
"No, we can always talk."
The sound of two light pistol shots cracked the silence, and Stone dove for the floor, but not before the muzzle flash illuminated her, standing with her back to the fireplace, holding the pistol in both hands, combat-style.
"Stop it, Dolce!" he shouted. "Don't make things worse." He crawled behind a sofa, while wondering why his own gun was not in his hand.
She fired again, and he felt the thud against the sofa. "Things can always get worse," she said. Then he heard a sharp thud, and something large made of glass shattered against the stone floor.
"Stone?" It was Dino's voice. "Are you hit?"
"No," Stone replied. "Can I stand up?"
"Yes. She's out."
Stone stood up, found a lamp at the end of the sofa and switched it on. Dino stood before the fireplace, a short-barreled.38 in his hand, looking down. Stone came around the sofa and saw Dolce crumpled on the floor among the shards of the glass coffee table. Dino was standing on the hand that held the.32 automatic. Stone went to her and gently turned her over. "What did you hit her with?" he asked.
"The edge of my hand, across the back of the neck. I'm sure I didn't hurt her." He picked up the.32, removed the clip, worked the action, and slipped it into his jacket pocket. Stone picked up the ejected cartridge and handed it to Dino. "We'd better find the spent shells," he said. "Otherwise, when the owners return home they'll be calling the police."
Dino rummaged around the broken glass and recovered the shell casings. "I've got three," he said. "There was only one more, in the breech."
Stone found a phone and called the clinic. "This is Stone Barrington," he said to the woman who answered.
"Yes, Mr. Barrington, we've been expecting your call."
"We're on our way there."
"Will you require any sort of restraints?"
"I don't know," he replied. "Best be ready, though."
"We'll expect you shortly. Do you know how to get into the garage?"
"Yes."