Kisser (Stone Barrington 17) - Page 133
“Hildy Parsons was shot with a.22. Cops don’t carry.22s.”
“My point exactly,” Stone replied.
“Then who shot her?”
“Maybe some hunter in the woods. It’s a rural area, you know; lots of hunters up there.”
“What would a hunter shoot with a.22?”
“Squirrels? Rabbits? Probably some kid.”
“Philip Parsons is livid.”
“Hildy Parsons is alive.”
“But wounded.”
“If she hadn’t been wounded she might have made it to that jet, and Philip Parsons wouldn’t have a daughter anymore. You might explain to Parsons that Sharpe and Larsen were carrying a couple of million in drugs and that much more in cash, and if they had made it, his daughter would have been a fugitive from justice, and he would be spending millions fighting her extradition. As it is, she was just an innocent bystander. I’ve seen to that.”
Eggers thought that over. “Did you hear that, Philip?”
“Yes, Bill, I did.”
“I didn’t know I was on a conference call, Philip,” Stone said, “or I would have been more politic in my statements. Maybe.”
“I’m glad you were blunt, Stone,” Parsons said.
“How is Hildy?”
“They’re keeping her in the hospital tonight for observation. She’ll be home tomorrow.”
“Have the police questioned her yet?”
“No, it was smart of you to have her taken to New York Hospital.”
“It might be a good idea if I have a conversation with her before she goes home,” Stone said.
“Now would be a good time,” Larkin said. “I’m with her.”
“I’ll be right there,” Stone said.
STONE TOOK a cab to the hospital and found the room. There were two bored-looking detectives sitting in the waiting room.
“Come in, Stone,” Philip Larkin said.
Hildy was propped up in bed in a large, sunny room overlooking the East River, and there were flowers everywhere.
“I don’t want to speak to him,” she said to her father, pointing at Stone.
“Shut up, Hildy,” Philip replied.
Stone stood by the bed. “You don’t have to talk to me,” he said. “In fact, it’s better if you don’t. You just have to listen.” He dragged up a chair and sat down. “You’re up to your neck in this, Hildy, and the only way you can get out of it is if you do exactly as I say. There are two police detectives waiting outside to see you…”
“I’m not going to talk to the police.”
“Shut up, Hildy,” her father said, “and listen.”
Stone continued. “You’re going to tell them that you’ve been seeing Derek Sharpe socially and that you hardly know Sig Larsen. You’re going to tell them that you have no idea what happened earlier today, that you had been invited to go to the Bahamas for a few days, and then people started shooting.”
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