Dirty Work (Stone Barrington 9)

Herbie turned and sprinted across the terrace like a terrified rabbit, then out through a door.

“Come on!” Stone said. He and Dino struggled out of the deep soft chairs, around the table, and ran after Herbie. Stone got a glimpse of him fleeing the parking lot, and he turned on the speed, losing a loafer in the process. “Get him!” he yelled at Dino, then went back for his shoe. By the time he caught up, Dino was standing in the street, looking around.

“Which way did he go?” Dino asked.

“I don’t know. I had to stop for my shoe.”

“You’re a big fucking help, Stone.”

From behind a little stand of trees beside the street, they heard a car start, then the sound of tires spinning on gravel. Stone ran around the trees in time to see a yellow jeep disappear around a curve. “Well,” Stone said, “at least we know what he’s driving.”

“A jeep?” Dino said, laughing. “Haven’t you noticed that half the tourists on this island are driving rented jeeps?”

“It’s a yellow jeep,” Stone pointed out. “They’re not all yellow.”

“I’m hungry,” Dino said.

They walked back into the hotel and out onto the terrace, where two new piña coladas were melting.

“Your table is ready, gentlemen,” the waiter said. “Right this way.”

They settled into a banquette near the door, where they could still see some of the view, and accepted a glass of wine.

“How the hell are we going to find him?” Dino asked, as he du

g into his first course.

“He’ll call his uncle Bob as soon as he can, but he’s having the same problem contacting him that I am. As soon as Bob gets within range, I can explain things to him, and he’ll explain them to Herbie.”

“And how long do you figure that will take?” Dino asked.

“Well, Bob’s been down here for at least four days. Maybe he’s ready to go home.”

“What if he’s on a three-week vacation?”

“Don’t say that.”

“When does Herbie have to appear in court?”

“The day after tomorrow.”

“Oh, swell.”

“I called Tony Levy and told him to get a postponement, no matter what.”

“Who’s the judge?”

“Kaplan.”

“You’re fucked,” Dino said, chuckling. “You’re out of a quarter of a mil, and by the time you get home, Irving Newman is going to own your house.”

“Dino, you’re ruining my appetite.”

“Have you called Irving?”

“No. I’m hoping he hasn’t heard that Herbie jumped. How could he know?”

“Well, when Herbie doesn’t show the day after tomorrow, and Tony Levy is standing in front of Kaplan with his dick in his hand, Irving is going to suspect something. He’s got a guy in every courtroom, you know.”