Bel-Air Dead (Stone Barrington 20)

“My client was initially charged, but evidence was found that the last person his wife was in bed with was a woman, not a man. Your Ms. Blaine may be a lesbian, or at least bisexual.”

“Maybe that explains why I’m not attracted to her,” Stone said. “God knows, she’s beautiful.”

“Well, Stone,” Eagle said, “it’s nice to know there’s a woman somewhere you’re not attracted to.”

“It’s a first,” Dino said.

Stone’s car came, he and Eagle shook hands, and he and Dino drove home.

42

The following day, Saturday, Stone and Dino, with nothing else to do, drove out to Malibu for lunch. They found a nice little Italian restaurant in the shopping area and shared a bottle of wine.

After lunch they left the restaurant and began to wander among the neat rows of boutiques.

“Sighting at four o’clock,” Dino said.

Stone swiveled to four o’clock and his eyes came to rest upon Carolyn Blaine, window-shopping about thirty yards away. It was the

first time he had seen her casually dressed, in shorts and a Polo shirt. He was about to approach her when another very attractive older woman got there first, and after a brief greeting they embraced in a way that got Stone’s attention.

“That,” Dino said, “was done the way it’s usually done with a man.”

“I noticed that, too,” Stone said.

The two women began walking among the shops, their hands occasionally touching in an affectionate way. At one moment, the older woman’s hand came in firm contact with Carolyn’s ass and remained there for a long moment, finishing with a squeeze.

“The plot thickens,” Dino said.

Hanging well back, the two continued to follow the women until they came to a parked Rolls-Royce, its engine idling. A driver in a suit leapt out and opened the rear door for them. Then, apparently having been instructed to go away, he did so.

Stone grabbed a tiny table at a little open-air bar and ordered them a beer. “This is very interesting,” he said.

Dino took his notebook from his pocket and wrote something down.

“You’re going to run the plate, aren’t you?” Stone asked.

“You bet your ass.”

“I wish I’d thought of that.”

“Have you noticed that the car moves a little now and then?” Dino asked.

“Yes, I noticed that. And the windows are too darkened to see through.”

“It must take quite a lot of action to get a Rolls to move around.”

Stone laughed. “Go ahead, run the plate.”

Dino called his office in New York, and in a minute or so he handed Stone his notebook with a name and address.

Stone looked at it. “Means nothing to me,” he said.

“San Francisco,” Dino said.

“I don’t know anybody in San Francisco,” Stone said. “Do you?”

“Nah, not a soul.”