Dirty Work (Stone Barrington 9)

Downstairs in the Café Carlyle, Bobby Short’s performance was drawing to a close. The applause was long and warm.

“Well,” the man next to her at the bar said. “Can I buy you a nightcap?”

“I’m staying here,” she said. “Why don’t you let me buy you one upstairs? There’s a bar in my suite.”

He held out a hand. “I’m Jeff Purdue. You’re on.”

“I’m Darlene King. Right this way.”

They fell in with the crowd leaving the café.

“I take it you’re not a New Yorker?” he said.

“I’m a Texan, sugar.”

“Dallas?”

“Sometimes.”

“What do you do down there?”

“My husband’s in the oil business.”

“You have a husband? I hope he’s in Dallas.”

“He sure is. If I know him, he’s in bed with his secretary right this minute.”

His hand dropped from her waist to her ass. “What you need is a little revenge,” he said.

“Believe me, I know the deep satisfactions of revenge,” she replied.

Stone stopped looking. “That’s it. There’s nothing more.”

“There’s a safe in the closet,” Dino said. “I’ll call the manager. We’ll get it opened.”

“It’s late,” Stone said, looking at his watch. “We don’t want her to walk in on us.”

“I need some evidence.”

“She’s obviously carrying the weapon.”

“We don’t even know this is her suite,” Dino said.

“It’s her suite,” Stone said.

“How do you know?”

“Because when I met her the first time, she was wearing a red wig that’s now on the shelf of her closet.”

Dino looked at his watch. “Let’s get out of here and set up surveillance.”

“Okay.”

They let themselves out of the suite and headed for the elevators.

Marie-Thérèse and her new friend had made their way out of the café crowd and into the lobby. As they rounded a corner, headed for the elevators, she stopped and stepped back. She had just seen Stone Barrington and that police lieutenant step off the elevator into the lobby, and they were wearing workmen’s coveralls.

“Something wrong?” Purdue asked.