Dirt

Chapter 28

“Has he got a brother?” Stone asked. She was still looking very angry.

“No, he hasn’t,” she said. “What’s this about, Stone?”

“As you are aware, I saw Dick Hickock’s girlfriend, Tiffany, this morning. She called me because somebody was following her, somebody who, as it turns out, answers to this guy’s description. She showed me this ad.”

“She said Jonathan was following her?”

“No, she was emphatic that the guy was not the man in the photograph, he just looked very much like him.”

“Well, he doesn’t have a brother.”

“Okay, that answers my question. Shall we drop it?”

“I’m sorry I got so angry; I didn’t understand.” She took a deep breath and let it out. “Stone, do you want to know about Jonathan?”

“Is there any reason why I should know about him?”

“No, not really.”

“Then I couldn’t care less. You, I care about; him, pfffft!”

She smiled. “That’s the kind of talk I like to hear.”

A waiter handed them menus. “I recommend the Caesar salad and the osso bucco,” Stone said.

“Sold; I’d like some wine, too.”

Stone turned to the waiter. “I’ll have the same as the lady, and bring us a bottle of the Dry Creek Merlot and two straws.”

Stone let them into the house and followed Arrington up the stairs. Halfway up she began undressing, dropping a trail of garments behind her, which Stone gathered up. “You want to shock my housekeeper? She’s a very proper Greek lady.”

“I’m sure it won’t be the first evidence she’s seen of a woman in the house,” Arrington replied, lobbing her bra over her shoulder.

“She doesn’t come in until ten A.M.”

“That may not be long enough.” She stepped out of her panties and kicked them backward.

Stone followed a very beautiful backside up the stairs and into his bedroom.

“I’m finished with my clothes,” she said, “let’s start on yours.” She began working on his buttons.

A moment later they were in bed, leaving a large pile of clothing at the foot.

“Do you know,” Stone said, kissing her, “this is the first time I’ve kissed you?”

“I never kiss until the third date,” she said. “And I never make love until…

Stone slid easily into her.

“…now,” she breathed.

Sunlight streamed into the rear windows of the house and across the bed. They lay in each other’s arms, sweating, breathing hard.

“I thought that went very well,” Arrington panted.

“All three times?” Stone asked.

“Don’t brag. Oh, all right, all three times.” She kissed him noisily on the ear. “I’m hungry; it’s your turn to make breakfast.”

“Eh?” he shouted, cupping a hand behind his ringing ear.

She got out of bed and headed for the kitchenette in the hall. “And turn on the Today show,” she called.

“Television? In the morning?”

“I never miss it.”

“The honeymoon’s over,” he grumbled, fumbling in a drawer for the remote control.

She came back with juice, muffins, and coffee.

“How’d you know what I wanted?” he asked.

“Easy. That’s all there is in your kitchenette.”

“Would you like me to lay in a stock of whatever you eat for breakfast?”

“This will do nicely,” she said, “as long as I can keep having you as well.”

Stone ate his muffin and gazed at the TV. “I don’t think I can make love to Bryant Gumbel,” he said. “But I might be able to manage something to Katie Couric.”

“I told you to stop bragging,” she giggled. “Now eat your muffin.”

“This muffin is not all I’m going to eat,” he replied.

“You never told me you were a sex maniac,” she said. “But it’s a nice surprise.”

The phone rang. Stone unconsciously reached for it. “Hello?”

“My name’s Bob,” a man’s voice said. “Dino said to call.”

“Right. I’ve got some work for you.”

“He gave me a couple addresses.”

“Why don’t you start here, and I’ll brief you on the others.”

“Okay, half an hour?”

Stone looked at Arrington, sitting cross-legged, naked, in his bed. “Make it an hour,” he said.

Bob Cantor had been in the house for two hours when he came down to Stone’s office.

“Come in, and have a seat.”

He closed the door behind him.

“Well?”

“Somebody’s very interested in you,” Cantor said.

Stone sat up. “How interested?”

“The whole house; top to bottom. Phone lines, too, but not the offices.”

“Jesus Christ.”

“I don’t think He needs to use a wire.”

“Bedroom?”

“Yep.”

“Shit.”

“You want me to yank everything?”

Stone thought for a moment. “Can you disable it in a way that will make them think it’s just broken?”

Cantor nodded. “I can create enough static to make them think it’s their fault.”

“Good, do that.”

“Okay.”

“How long?”

“Half an hour.”

Shortly, Cantor was back. “It’s done. You may hear some static on the phone lines, but it’ll be manageable. I left the fax machine alone; static there would give you garbled transmissions.”

“Fine.” Stone handed him a sheet of paper and two envelopes. “These are the other two addresses, and I’ve written a letter to each woman, telling them what you’re going to do.”

“If I find something, you want me to do the same thing to it? I mean, whoever’s bugging you might think something’s up if all three systems go down.”

“Good point. Do the same work on Ms. Dart’s offices and apartment, but leave the Potts place up and running. Then call me.”

“One thing,” Cantor said.

“What’s that?”

“You got a very nice burglar alarm system in the house; you ever use it?”

“When I go away.”

“Start using it all the time. I mean, now that the wire on your place isn’t working right, they might come back to fix it.”

“I hadn’t thought of that,” Stone said.