Kisser (Stone Barrington 17)

He started to rise, but she put her hand on his arm, and he sat down again.

“You seem like a trustworthy person,” she said, “but so does Derek.”

“One of us has ulterior motives,” Stone said. “One of us is lying to you. One of us wants your money. If you need a place to go for a few days I have a house in Turtle Bay with guest rooms.” He took a card from his coat pocket and handed it to her. “My secretary is there all day. May I tell her to expect you?”

“No, I don’t need a place to hide,” she replied, but she put the card in her bag.

“My cell phone number is on the back of the card,” Stone said.

“Call me day or night, but whatever you do, don’t go back to Derek’s place and don’t see him for a few days.” He took a key from his pocket. “This will let you into my house.” He wrote the security code on another card and gave it to her. “Please, please, make yourself safe by being alone for a few days.”

“I’ll think about what you’ve said,” Hildy replied, then looked up and waved. “My friend is here.”

Stone got up and went back to his table, where Dino had started without him.

“Your cheeseburger is getting cold,” Dino said. “Who was that?”

“Her name is Hildy Parsons. She’s the reason I got mixed up in this thing with Brian Doyle.”

“That looked like a pretty earnest conversation,” Dino said.

“I hope she heard me.” Stone’s cell phone rang. “Hello?”

“It’s Mitzi. I wanted you to know that we hit pay dirt at Teterboro,” she said. “Larsen and Sharpe have chartered half a dozen times from the same company, every time to the Bahamas or some other island.”

“Have they been to the Cayman Islands?” he asked.

“I’m not sure if that’s one of them.”

“It’s probably where they’re banking,” Stone said. “They would probably go to some other island first and then change planes if they’re carrying cash.”

“Got it,” she said.

Stone wanted to tell her about Hildy Parsons, but he decided not to. “See you tomorrow morning at the Carlyle,” he said.

“Sure,” she said. “Gotta run.” She hung up.

49

STONE ARRIVED at the Carlyle Hotel at Madison and Seventy-sixth at the stroke of ten. He didn’t see Mitzi or Tom, but Derek Sharpe and Sig Larsen were sitting at a corner table in the dining room, so he joined them.

“Good morning, gentlemen,” Stone said, and hands were shaken. He sat down and looked at his watch.

“Women!” Sharpe said.

“What’s that about women?” Mitzi asked, and they all turned to look at her. She was wearing a flaming red suit and carrying a handbag to match. Every head in the dining room had turned to follow her.

Everybody stood up, Larsen held a chair for her. “Would you like something, Mitzi?”

“Yes. I’ll order breakfast.” A waiter appeared, and she ordered scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast.

“I’ll have the same,” Stone said, “with orange juice, coffee later.”

The two men seemed surprised that Stone and Mitzi were ordering food.

“Derek and I had breakfast earlier,” Larsen said, pouring himself and Derek another cup of coffee from the pot on the table.

There was idle chat for a moment, then Larsen said, “So, Mitzi, what did you think of our investment opportunity?”