Kisser

17

STONE WAS SITTING up in bed the following morning with a cup of coffee and the Times crossword when the phone rang.

“Hello?”

“It’s Rita Gammage.”

“Good morning.”

“I just wanted to thank you for dinner last night.”

“You’re very welcome. Let’s do it again.”

“Love to. Did you talk to your man last night?”

“Yes, and I’ve been able to interest the downtown cops in Mr. Sharpe’s business dealings. In fact, I’m supposed to have lunch today with a lady cop who’s going to be leading the effort.”

“Wonderful!”

“Say, why don’t you join us?”

“Sure, where and what time?”

“How about my house at noon?”

“Sounds good. I’ve got your card, so I’ll know where.”

“See you then.”

Stone had hardly hung up when the phone rang again. “Hello?”

“Mr. Barrington?” spoke a honeyed woman’s voice.

“Yes.”

“This is Mitzi Reynolds. Brian Doyle asked me to call you.”

“Yes, we talked about you last night. Can you come to lunch at my house at noon? A lady with some knowledge of the man in question will be here, too.”

“Surely.”

Stone gave her the address, then hung up and pressed the page button on the phone. “ Helena?” He waited a moment, then she picked up.

“Mr. Stone?”

“I have a couple of people coming for lunch today. Could you fix us something?’

“I will be happy to.”

“Will it be warm enough in the garden to sit out there, do you think?”

“Oh, yes. Lots of sun, too. What would you like?”

“You decide. They’re invited for twelve, so let’s sit down at twelve thirty.”

“I will do this.” Helene hung up.

Stone went back to the puzzle.

HE WAS WORKING in his office when the upstairs doorbell buzzer rang. He picked up the phone. “Yes?”

“Your luncheon guests,” Rita said.

“I’ll buzz you in and meet you there in just a moment.” He pressed the buzzer and then called Joan.

“Yep?”

“I have guests for lunch, so I’ll be a while,” he said, and then he hung up and walked upstairs.

Rita Gammage and Mitzi Reynolds were standing in his living room, looking around. Mitzi, in what appeared to be an Armani business suit, was shorter than but just as good-looking as Rita, who was dressed in slacks and a cashmere sweater.

Stone gave Rita a peck on the cheek and introduced himself to Mitzi.

“We’ve already met each other,” Mitzi said. “We arrived simultaneously.”

“Follow me,” Stone said, then led them through the house and down to the kitchen, where Helene was working away. He introduced her to the two women.

“Anybody for a glass of champagne?” he asked, opening the fridge.

“Why not?” Mitzi said, and Rita nodded.

He took a bottle of Veuve Cliquot from the fridge, picked up three crystal flutes from a cabinet, and then led them outside to a group of chairs around a teak cocktail table. Helene had already set the lunch table with the good china. Stone poured them all a glass, and they sipped. Stone was having the problem he always had when meeting two beautiful women: which one to pursue?

“Rita, why don’t you tell Mitzi what you told me about Derek Sharpe last evening?” he said. He sipped his wine while Rita talked.

“That’s about all I know,” she said, finally.

“You make him sound repellent,” Mitzi said.

“Then I’ve done my work,” Rita replied.

Helene bustled out with two platters and set them on the table. “Lunch is served,” she said.

They took their seats at the table and served themselves from the Greek salad, taramasalata, hummus, and dolmades Helene had made.

“Mitzi,” Stone said, “did Brian give you some idea of what you’re supposed to do?”

“He pretty much left it up to me,” she said, “but I think the idea is that I will appear on his social radar and get him interested in the Reynolds fortune.”

“Oh, you’re from the Reynolds tobacco family?” Rita asked.

“No, I’m from the Reynolds shrimp family-no relation,” Mitzi said.

“Mitzi’s father operates a shrimp boat,” Stone explained.

“No,” Mitzi said, “he operates thirty shrimp boats, up and down the coast, from an office on the Charleston waterfront. Brian tends to get confused about my roots.”

“Ah,” said Stone, “and how…”

“Did a girl like me get to be a New York City cop? It was easy. I had a boyfriend for a couple of years who was a detective. I didn’t have any real work, and I was fascinated by his, so he suggested I take the police exam. I did well on that and joined the force. I got my gold shield six years later.”

“Brian said you went to a good school down there somewhere.”

“ Agnes Scott College, in Atlanta.”

Stone blinked. “I know someone who went to school there, Carrie Cox-do you know her?”

“She was a year behind me,” Mitzi said, “and she was a piece of work.”

Stone wanted to ask exactly what she meant by that, but Rita interrupted. “She’s the actress with the lead in the new Del Wood musical, isn’t she?”

“That’s the one.”

“Yes, I read about her on ‘Page Six.’ ”

“So did I,” Mitzi said, “and I can’t say I was surprised. How do you know her, Stone?”

“I’ve done some legal work for her,” Stone replied, and hoped she would leave it at that. “Tell me,” he said, “do you have a regular partner?”

“Tom Rabbit,” she said. “He’s due back from vacation tomorrow.”

“Good, because I think you’ll need some backup.”

“What’s he going to pose as?” Rita asked.

“Not as anything,” Mitzi said. “He wouldn’t fit into Derek Sharpe’s crowd. He’ll watch my back; he’ll be the cavalry that rides in if something goes wrong.”

“You make this sound dangerous,” Rita said.

“That’s unlikely,” Stone said, “but an undercover cop has to operate on the premise that he-or she, in this case-is in danger at all times. These things tend to have a happier ending if you think that way. Shall we have another bottle of champagne?”

They did.