The Short Forever (Stone Barrington 8)

Stone didn’t want to hear the rest, anyway. “I think it’s a little late for ‘if only,’ ” he said. “Clearly, you’ve thought this out, I’m not going to try to talk you out of it.”

“Thank God for that,” she muttered, half to herself.

They sat silently for a moment, then, without another word, Callie got up and headed for the door, nearly knocking down Dino, who had chosen that moment to walk in.

Dino turned and watched her rush out the door, then he walked over to Stone’s table and sat down. Dino Bacchetti had been Stone’s partner when he was still on the NYPD; now he ran the detective squad at the Nineteenth Precinct. “So,” he said, “I see you managed to fuck up another relationship.”

“Jesus, Dino, I didn’t do anything,” Stone said.

Dino motioned to Michael for a drink. “That’s usually the problem,” he said. The drink was placed before him, and he sipped it.

“You want some dinner, Dino?” Michael asked.

“Whatever he’s having,” Dino replied.

“Caesar salad and the osso buco?”

“Good.” He turned to Stone. “After a while, women expect you to do something.”

“She’s marrying Thad Shames.”

Dino’s eyebrows shot up. “No shit? Well, I’ll admit, I didn’t see that one coming. I guess Thad isn’t broke yet.”

“Not yet, but he’s only worth three billion now.”

“Poor guy; couple months, he’ll be living on the street. Still, he got the girl.”

“Don’t rub it in.”

“It’s what I do,” Dino explained.

Stone’s cellphone, clipped to his belt, began to vibrate. “Now what?” he said to nobody in particular. “Hello?”

“Stone, it’s Bill Eggers.” Bill was the managing partner of Woodman & Weld, the prestigious law firm for which Stone did unprestigious jobs.

“Yeah, Bill.”

“You sound down.”

“Just tired; what’s up?”

“You got anything heavy on your plate right now?”

“Nothing much.”

“Good; there’s a guy coming to see you tomorrow morning at nine, with some work. Do whatever he says.”

“Suppose he wants me to kill somebody.”

“If this guy wanted somebody killed, he’d do it himself. His name is John Bartholomew, and he’s major, in his way.”

“I’ll be glad to see him.”

“You got a passport?”

“Yes.” Not that he’d used it for a long time.

“Good. You’re going to need it.” Eggers hung up.