Foul Play

Twenty-Three

It was a footrace to the bedroom, and Brooke won. She was already under the covers, as Stone was hanging up his pants.

“Usually, you just toss them aside,” Brooke said. “Am I losing my touch?”

“I don’t know,” Stone said, crawling into bed. “Touch something.” She did. “You’re not losing your touch,” he confirmed.

Bright and early the following morning, they were eating breakfast. “I have a question,” Brooke said.

“Shoot.”

“Where is Shep what’s-his-name?”

“I haven’t the faintest idea about whom you’re talking.”

“Where is... Shepherd Trout?”

“Troutman.”

“Okay, Shepherd Troutman.”

“What about him?”

“Where is he?”

“Out of pocket,” Stone replied.

“That’s meaningless. I want a location.”

“You mean coordinates? Longitude and latitude?”

“I’m getting the feeling you’re not going to tell me where he is.”

“You’re a very perceptive woman.”

“Why won’t you tell me where he is?”

“Why do you want to know?”

“I have a girlfriend I want to fix him up with.”

“Ah. I’m afraid he’s unfixable up at the moment.”

“Do I have to guess?”

“You may if you wish.”

“If I guess correctly, will you confirm the location?”

“No.”

“This is infuriating.”

“You’re beautiful when you’re infuriated,” Stone replied.

“Who do I have to fuck to find out where Shep is?”

“Mission accomplished,” Stone said.

“Yes, but you haven’t told me where he is.”

“That is so.”

“Will you give him a message to call me?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because he might call you.”

“Do you object to Shep speaking to me?”

“In principle, no. In practice, yes.”

“Who could it hurt, if I put these two people together?”

“Shep.”

“Stone, a blind date is not life-threatening.”

“You could very well be wrong about that.”

“Who wants to kill him?”

“Evil men.”

“Why do they want to kill him?”

“For his money.”

“Really? Does he have that much money?”

“Yes.”

“How much?”

“I can’t tell you; attorney-client privilege.”

“If you tell me, I’ll do exotic things to you.”

“You have already done them,” Stone replied. “And they were wonderful.”

“Would you tell me at gunpoint?”

“Do you have a gun?”

“No.”

“Then the question is moot.”

“You’re talking lawyer-speak.”

“I’m a lawyer. It’s to be expected.”

“What can I do to persuade you to put me in touch with Shep?”

Stone pondered that for a long moment. “I can’t think of anything you haven’t already done.”

“Oh, please.”

“You wouldn’t respect me, if I told you.”

“Yes, I would!”

“If you did, then I wouldn’t respect you.”

“I’m getting tired of this.”

“I was hoping you would.”

“You are exasperating!”

“I’m trying to be.”

“Well, it’s working!”

“Excellent!”

She rolled over and pretended to go to sleep.

“Are you asleep?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“What would it take to wake you?”

“Tell me where Shep is.”

“Go to sleep.”

“I can’t sleep.”

“Then we’ll have to think of something else to do,” he said, rolling over.