“She’ll be beautiful, like you.”
“Let’s hope she looks like her father.”
“I have to go,” Stone said. “I have an appointment.” If he talked to her any more he’d make an idiot of himself.
“I do love you, Stone,” she said, then hung up.
Stone hung up the phone and, to his astonishment, he began to cry. A moment later, he had control of himself. He dialed Dino’s direct extension.
“Lieutenant Bacchetti,” Dino said.
“Dinner tonight?”
“Sure.” Dino listened to the silence for a moment. “You’ve had some news?”
“Yeah. Elaine’s, at eight-thirty?”
“Sure.”
“You’re going to have to drive me home.”
“What are cops for?” Dino asked, then hung up.
Stone sat and looked out the window at the snow. He sat there most of the day.
Washington, Connecticut
July 23, 1997