Contraband

11

Max got off the airplane at LaGuardia, and as she entered the terminal she saw a small, gray-haired man holding a sign that read: MAX. She walked over to him. “Are you from Stone Barrington?”

“I am, miss,” he replied.

“Then I’m Max.”

“And I’m Fred.” He took her bags and led the way to the parking lot, where he loaded them into a Bentley.

Max was impressed with the car; it seemed to measure up to everything else she had learned about Stone thus far.

A half hour later, they drove into a garage, and Fred opened her door. “Here we are, miss,” Fred said. “You’re to go straight down the hallway there to Mr. Barrington’s office. I’ll put your bags in your dressing room. Would you like me to unpack for you?”

“I’ll take care of that, Fred,” she said, heading down the hall. She rapped on the door.

“Come in,” a voice said from the other side. She opened the door and stepped into a largish, comfortably furnished office, where Stone enveloped her in a big hug. “I’m glad you made it.”

“So this is your office?”

“It is.”

“And it’s in your house?”

“It is.”

“What do you do, anyway?”

“I’m an attorney and a partner in the firm of Woodman & Weld.” He took a card from his desk and tucked it into her cleavage. “So you won’t lose it.”

He glanced at his watch. “Ah, the cocktail hour is upon us. Let’s go upstairs.”

Before they could, Joan opened the door, and she and Elise walked in.

“They couldn’t contain their curiosity,” Stone said, then introduced her to both women. “We’re going up to the study,” he said, and left them. He led Max up the stairs to the first floor, then walked her through the living room and into the study, where he poured them each a drink. “How was your trip?”

“It was an airplane ride,” she said. “Need I say more?”

“You need not. And how is your Al Dix case going?”

“What case? Our chief called Tommy and me into his office yesterday and posed that question. He pointed out that, as far as we knew, Dix has not committed a crime. He is a victim, who chooses not to speak with us again. I didn’t have an answer to that, so I’m back to chasing stolen bicycles.”

“Perhaps Dix is another kind of victim — of a kidnapping.”

“It crossed my mind, but I don’t have any evidence to support that theory, either.”

“Did he pay his hospital bill? If he didn’t, that’s a crime.”

“He had insurance. There was nothing except a nurse to keep him from taking a walk. We did manage to find out who his girlfriend is, and that he lives with her, but he wasn’t there when we dropped by. We found a business card, something called South Florida Import & Export, which is located in a hangar at the airport. But the hangar was empty when we visited, and no one answered the phone.”

“So, what you have is not a case, but a mystery.”

“Exactly. But while that eats at me, it’s not enough for my boss, nor enough to keep me from coming to New York to see you.”

“What would you like to do while you’re here?” Stone asked.

“Is there a bed in the house?”

“Of course, and you will be introduced to it in due course. In the meantime, what else would you like to do or see in New York?”

“I want to go shopping,” Max replied. “We have no fucking shopping in Key West, unless you’re into T-shirts with bawdy words on them.”

“Which shops?”

“All of them — everything I can find. It’s been two years since I’ve bought any serious clothes, and I don’t have anything to wear here.”

“Do you need ‘serious clothes’ in Key West?”

“No, but I’m in New York, and I don’t want to look like a tourist from Key West, even though that’s what I am. Where are we having dinner tonight?”

“At a restaurant called Patroon, with Dino and Viv Bacchetti.”

“Then I’ll need a new dress. I believe there’s a store in this town called Saks Fifth Avenue.”

“I’ll alert Fred. He’ll save you a lot of time by driving you from shop to shop. He knows where they all are.”

“Just let me finish my drink,” she said.

Stone handed her a credit card. “Shopping is on me,” he said. “Get whatever you want, sign my name. If anybody gives you a hard time, show them your badge and tell them to call me.”

“Perhaps we should start at Bloomingdale’s,” Fred said to Max when they were in the car.

“I’ve heard of that,” Max said.

“Lots of shops, all in one place. Start on the second floor.” He drove her to the Third Avenue entrance and gave her a card. “Phone me when you’re ready to leave,” he said.

Max got out of the car and, as Fred suggested, took the escalator to the second floor, where she stopped and looked around. “Wonderland,” she said aloud to herself.

Two hours later, Max appeared on the sidewalk with two suitcases on wheels. Fred got out to help her. “I decided that suitcases were better than shopping bags, since I have to get all this stuff back to Key West anyway.”

“That’s very forward-thinking of you,” Fred said, stowing the cases in the trunk and opening a rear door for her.

They entered Patroon, and Max turned every head as they walked to their table, where Dino and Viv awaited.

Viv applauded. “What an entrance!” she said. “And what a dress! You’ll capture the city!”

“Thank you, Viv,” Max said, and they air-kissed. “Hey, Dino.”

“Hey, Max.”

“Is this your first trip to New York?” Viv asked, as a waiter arrived with drinks.

“No, I’ve been here once before, my senior year in high school, on our class trip. We stayed in a seedy hotel on Forty-Second Street and saw all the sights from a bus, so at least I don’t have to take that tour again.”

“I have the feeling,” Stone said, “that Max will be spending most of her time here on Fifth and Madison Avenues. She has deigned to spend the evenings with me.”

Max told them about her misadventures with Al Dix, and they had a wonderful evening.