Cold Paradise

19

The bar was up front, the restaurant at the rear. The place was subtly lit, and a pianist was playing quiet jazz underneath the conversation at the busy bar. Stone spotted Detective Riley leaning against the piano, holding a glass apparently filled with mineral water. Riley motioned toward the bar, but Stone was already staring at Manning’s back.

He nodded at Riley and turned to Callie. “See the tall man at the middle of the bar, talking to the brunette?”

“Yes.”

“Is that the man you saw at the party?”

“Looks like him from behind, but I can’t see his face.”

“Come on.” Stone took her arm and guided her toward the couple. The brunette, looking past her companion, flicked an eye toward them, then turned back to her conversation.

Stone stopped a pace from the couple. “Paul!” he said, loudly enough to be sure he could be heard.

The man’s head jerked around in an instantaneous reaction.

“That’s the man,” Callie whispered.

“I’m Stone Barrington. I’m sure you remember.”

The man turned fully around and regarded Stone, his brow wrinkled. His hair was longish and dark, flecked with gray. “I don’t believe we’ve met,” he said, “but weren’t you at the Shames party the other night?”

Stone looked at him carefully. The face was thin, the nose straight. He was the right age, and there was a resemblance to the Paul Manning he had known, but the nose seemed to change everything. “Yes, I was, but we met some time ago, in St. Marks.”

“I’m sorry,” the man said. “I put into St. Marks a few years ago on a sailing charter, but I don’t recall meeting you there.”

“I’m sure you remember your wife,” Stone said.

The brunette looked up sharply at the man.

“My wife died last year,” he said.

“Oh, longer ago than that,” Stone said.

“I think I would remember when my wife died,” the man said quietly.

The brunette spoke up. “You didn’t tell me, Paul. I’m sorry.”

“I hadn’t had time, yet, but thank you,” he said to her. He offered his hand to Stone. “I’m Paul Bartlett, and this lovely lady is Charmaine Tallman,” he said. “Perhaps you’ve mistaken me for someone else.”

Stone nodded at the woman and shook the man’s hand. “Stone Barrington.”

“Do you live in Palm Beach, Stone?”

“No. How about you?”

“I arrived a couple of weeks ago.”

“How long do you plan to stay?” Stone asked.

“Actually, I’m house-hunting. I sold my business late last year, and I suppose I’m taking early retirement.”

“What sort of business?”

“Graphic design.”

“Where?”

“Minneapolis. I thought I’d try somewhere with a warmer winter. Florida seemed attractive. Where are you from, Stone?”

“New York,” Stone replied. The man displayed not a hint of nerves. Could he be mistaken?

“Did you think I was another Paul?”

“Does the name Paul Manning ring a bell?”

“Writer? I read some of his stuff a few years ago, but not recently”

“How did you come to be at the Shames party?” Callie asked.

“I came with the Wilkeses,” he said. “We just stopped by for a drink on the way to another dinner.”

“How do you know the Wilkeses?”

“From Minneapolis. I used to do a lot of his company’s design work- product packaging, mostly.”

Callie nodded.

“Does the name Allison ring a bell?” Stone asked.

“I had a secretary named Allison, once.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Stone saw Detective Riley moving slowly past them. He stopped a few feet behind Paul Bartlett.

“I can’t get past the feeling that you think I’m someone else.”

“I can’t get past that, myself,” Stone replied. “What was the name of your firm?”

“Bartlett and Bishop,” he replied. “We were bought out by a New York-based firm. May I offer you a drink?”

“Thanks, but we have to be going,” Stone said. “Perhaps I’ll see you again. Where are you staying?”

“At the Chesterfield,” Bartlett replied. “Call me anytime.”

“Thanks. Ready, Callie?”

“Sure.”

Stone gave the couple a small wave and guided Callie out of the bar.

On the sidewalk, as they waited for their car to be brought around, the policeman approached them. “Mr. Barrington? I’m Dave Riley.”

Stone shook his hand. “Of course. Chief Griggs said you’d be here.”

“Was that your man?”

“I’m not sure,” Stone said. “He’s the right size and age, but I haven’t seen him for a few years, and I’m told he’s had his nose altered. Did you hear any of our conversation?”

“I got his name and his story about the business.”

“Can you check that out? Maybe get a photograph of Paul Bartlett?”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Riley said.

The car arrived. Stone thanked the detective and he and Callie got in and drove away.

“What he said about the Wilkeses rings true,” she said. “He was standing near them when I saw him, and Mr. Wilkes does have a lot of business interests in the midwest.”

“At first I was sure it was Manning,” Stone said. “But now… well, let’s see what the police turn up.”

“Why are the police involved?”

Stone took a deep breath. “I’ve already told you about Allison; Manning was her husband.” He told her the story.

“And you think Manning is in Palm Beach? What evidence do you have of that?”

“Nothing concrete,” Stone said. “Just a hunch, brought on by the trashing of Liz’s study at her house.”

“Bizarre,” Callie said.

“Indeed.”

They pulled into the driveway of the Shames house, got out and walked toward the yacht.

“So,” Callie said, “what about this threesome?”

“Well, there are problems about that,” Stone said, trying to think of some.

“What sort of problems? I’m certainly not one of them. I think she’s very attractive.”

“She’s my client, and she’s the girlfriend of another client, for a start.”

“And where in the canon of legal ethics does it say you can’t sleep with a client?”

“I, ah, can’t quote you chapter and verse, but believe me, it’s inadvisable.”

“Come on, Stone, what’s the real reason? You’re a red-blooded American boy. You must harbor the fantasy of two women in bed with you- and with each other.”

“I can’t deny that,” Stone said, reaching the gangplank and helping her aboard. “I suppose the main reason is that I wouldn’t want to share you with anybody, not even another beautiful woman.”

“Now, that was the politic thing to say,” she said, smiling at him. “But is there some other reason?”

“Apart from what I’ve already said, it just doesn’t feel right,” he replied.

“Now, that’s the best reason you’ve given me,” she said. “Maybe another time.”

“You never know,” Stone replied.

“I can tell you’re interested,” Callie said.

“How?”

She rubbed the back of her hand across the front of his trousers. “Let’s just say, it shows.”

Stone laughed and pulled her to him. “Think you could be satisfied with just me?”

“I expect so,” she replied, leading him toward his cabin.