Cold Paradise (Stone Barrington 7)

“Bartlett and Bishop,” he replied. “We were bought out by a New York-based firm. May I offer you a drink?”

“Thanks, but we have to be going,” Stone said. “Perhaps I’ll see you again. Where are you staying?”

“At the Chesterfield,” Bartlett replied. “Call me anytime.”

“Thanks. Ready, Callie?”

“Sure.”

Stone gave the couple a small wave and guided Callie out of the bar.

On the sidewalk, as they waited for their car to be brought around, the policeman approached them. “Mr. Barrington? I’m Dave Riley.”

Stone shook his hand. “Of course. Chief Griggs said you’d be here.”

“Was that your man?”

“I’m not sure,” Stone said. “He’s the right size and age, but I haven’t seen him for a few years, and I’m told he’s had his nose altered. Did you hear any of our conversation?”

“I got his name and his story about the business.”

“Can you check that out? Maybe get a photograph of Paul Bartlett?”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Riley said.

The car arrived. Stone thanked the detective and he and Callie got in and drove away.

“What he said about the Wilkeses rings true,” she said. “He was standing near them when I saw him, and Mr. Wilkes does have a lot of business interests in the midwest.”

“At first I was sure it was Manning,” Stone said. “But now … Well, let’s see what the police turn up.”

“Why are the police involved?”

Stone took a deep breath. “I’ve already told you about Allison; Manning was her husband.” He told her the story.

“And you think Manning is in Palm Beach? What evidence do you have of that?”

“Nothing concrete,” Stone said. “Just a hunch, brought on by the trashing of Liz’s study at her house.”

“Bizarre,” Callie said.

“Indeed.”

They pulled into the driveway of the Shames house, got out and walked toward the yacht.

“So,” Callie said, “what about this threesome?”

“Well, there are problems about that,” Stone said, trying to think of some.

“What sort of problems? I’m certainly not one of them. I think she’s very attractive.”

“She’s my client, and she’s the girlfriend of another client, for a start.”

“And where in the canon of legal ethics does it say you can’t sleep with a client?”

“I, ah, can’t quote you chapter and verse, but believe me, it’s inadvisable.”

“Come on, Stone, what’s the real reason? You’re a red-blooded American boy. You must harbor the fantasy of two women in bed with you—and with each other.”