Insatiable Appetites

33

Stone was in his study watching the news when Joan came in. “Is Mr. Willard all settled in?”

“Yes. Helene is making him some dinner. What a very nice man he is!”

“He charmed you pretty quickly, didn’t he?”

“He certainly did. He’s also very handsome.”

“I wouldn’t let that go to your head.”

“Oh, I know he’s gay. I could tell, but women love gay men.”

“Because they’re harmless?”

“Because, in my experience, they’re sympathetic and understanding,” she said. “He’s quite broken up over his loss, you know.”

“I’m aware of that.”

“I hope you were sympathetic.”

“Of course I was. I offered my condolences and gave him tissues.”

“Did you really?”

“And shelter from his enemies.”

“Who are his enemies?”

“That has not yet been determined.”

“Has it been determined whether his enemies are real or imagined?”

“If Evan Hills was run down deliberately, he has enemies. If he wasn’t, he may still have enemies, real ones.”

There was a tap at the door, and Stone looked up to see Bruce Willard standing there.

“Come in, Bruce. May I call you that?”

“Of course.”

“And I’m Stone. Would you like a drink?”

“I could use one.” Willard took a seat on the sofa.

“Joan? As long as you’re here?”

“I’ll drink some of that awful whiskey you like so much.”

Stone went to the bar. “One Knob Creek, coming up. Bruce?”

“The same, please, rocks.”

Stone poured and distributed the drinks.

“Sit down, Joan.”

She sat, taking the other end of the sofa from where Willard sat.

“I understand you have an antiques shop, Bruce,” she said.

“Yes, I do.”

“Do you have a specialty?”

“It’s pretty eclectic. I do very well with Georgian silver.”

“I love Georgian silver.”

Maybe I should leave the two of them alone, Stone thought. The phone rang. “Stone Barrington.”

“It’s Carla.”

“Hi, there.”

“I had a very nice lunch with Bruce Willard.”

“So I hear.”

“You talked to him?”

“We’re having a drink at my house now.”

“Do you mind if I join you?”

“We’d be delighted. Where are you?”

“In a cab from the airport.”

“Then come straight here. We’ll have dinner here, too.”

“See you in twenty.” She hung up.

“That was Carla. She’s coming here. Why don’t we all have dinner?”

“Thank you,” Willard said.

“Joan, will you call Helene and tell her we’ll be four? And would you please bring me that tape I was going to send to Carla?”

Joan went to the phone on the desk and called downstairs. “Helene wants to know what you’d like.”

“Something Greek,” Stone said.

“Something Greek,” Joan said into the phone. “Got it.” She hung up. “Forty-five minutes — she was already halfway there.” Joan left the room and came back with the tape.

Carla arrived in time for a second round. “Fancy meeting you here,” she said to Bruce, accepting a martini from Stone.

“Small world,” he replied.

“I have news,” Carla said. “We’re running in the Sunday paper, and it’s a spread in Section A.”

“Great,” Stone said.

“I hope so,” Bruce replied.

Stone gave Carla the tape. “Here it is.”

“Good, now we can publish quotes. There’s still time to get some in, we don’t close until tomorrow night.”

“I suppose I should be relieved,” Bruce sighed.

“Look at it this way, Bruce,” Stone said. “After the story runs, no one will be trying to stop you from saying whatever you were going to say. No one will feel any need to harm you.”

“Then it’s a pity it didn’t run sooner,” Bruce said. “Evan might still be alive.”