Cold Paradise (Stone Barrington 7)

“In Easthampton.”

“Did you dine at Jerry Della Femina’s?”

Her jaw dropped. “How could you know that?”

“You’re Liz,” he said.

“You know Thad, what’s his name?”

“Shames.”

“Well, I’ll be damned.”

“Not if I can square things with the insurance company.” Stone got out his cell phone and notebook and dialed a number. “This is Stone Barrington. Is he available?”

“Who are you calling?” she asked.

“Yes, tell him it’s important.”

Shames came onto the line. “Stone? Anything to report?”

“There’s someone here who’d like to speak with you,” Stone said. He handed the phone to Liz.

She took it, baffled. “Hello? Yes, this is Liz. Oh, it’s you! We were just talking about you. Well, yes, I’d like to see you again. Saturday? I believe I’m free. All right, I’ll look forward to seeing you then.” She handed the phone back to Stone.

“Stone, bring her to the party on Saturday night, aboard Toscana. Seven o’clock.”

“All right.”

“See you then. Gotta run.”

Stone returned the cell phone to his pocket.

“So, you’re a matchmaker, as well?”

“Glad to be of service.”

“He is well known, isn’t he?”

“Yes, in the worlds of computer software and Wall Street, he’s something of a celebrity.”

“I don’t know about these things. I never read the Wall Street Journal.”

“Neither do I.”

She frowned.

“Anything wrong?”

“There is something else.”

“What’s that?”

“Paul Manning.”

“He’s dead.”

She shook her head. “No, he’s not.”