L.A. Dead

Chapter 44

Stone spent the evening alone in Vance's bungalow, heating a frozen dinner and watching one of Vance's movies from a selection of videotapes in the study. It turned out to be one in which Charlene Joiner had costarred, and that didn't help him think pure thoughts. Her ability as an actress actually lived up to her beauty, which surprised him, though it was not the first of her movies he had seen.

He slept fitfully, then devoted the following day to a combination of Calder Estate business and correspondence FedEx'ed by Joan from New York, which kept his mind off naked women, living and dead. The noon news said that Daniel Pike was not a suspect in his ex-wife's death, but he didn't believe it. The police had probably leaked that information to make Pike think he was safe. He'd done the same thing, himself, in his time.

Arrington called early in the afternoon. "Dino and Mary Ann are arriving at three," she said, "and Manolo is meeting them. I can't wait to see them!"

"Same here," Stone said, and he meant it. Cut off from Arrington most of the time, he craved affectionate company.

"You be here at seven," she said.

"Can I bring anything?"

"Yes, but I don't think you'll share, in your present mood."

"When this is over, I'll share until you cry for mercy."

"Promises, promises! Bye." She hung up.

Stone left the studio at six-thirty, which would make him fashionably late to Arrington's. Then, after no more than a mile, the car's steering felt funny, and he pulled over. The front rear tire was flat. He thought of changing it himself, but there was a gas station a block away, and he didn't want to get his fresh clothes dirty, so he hiked down there and brought back a mechanic to do the work. As a result, he was half an hour late to dinner.

He entered through the front gate, for a change, and noted that there were no TV vans or reporters about. Manolo let him in and escorted him into the living room where Arrington, Dino, and Mary Ann sat on sofas before the fireplace. Another woman was there, too, but her back was to him.

He hugged Dino and Mary Ann, but when he made to embrace Arrington, she kept an elbow between them. "And look who else is here!" she cried, waving a hand toward the sofa. The other woman turned around.

"Dolce," Stone said weakly. "I've been trying to reach you."

"Well, you can reach me now," Dolce replied, patting the sofa next to her.

Stone started to take another seat, but Arrington took his arm tightly and guided him next to Dolce. "Dolce has told me your wonderful news!" Arrington said brightly, showing lots of teeth. "Let me congratulate you!"

Stone looked at Dino and Mary Ann, both of whom looked extremely uncomfortable. He sat down next to Dolce and submitted to a kiss on the cheek.

"My darling," she said, "how handsome you look tonight."

"I'm sorry I'm late," Stone said to Arrington, ignoring Dolce. "I had a flat tire on the way."

"Of course you did, Stone," she replied, as if he were lying.

Manolo brought him a Wild Turkey on the rocks, and Stone sipped it. This whole thing was insane; what was Dolce doing here? He discovered that he was sweating. "How was your flight?" he asked Dino and Mary Ann.

"Pretty much the same as being moved around the Chicago Stockyards with an electric cattle prod," Dino replied gamely, trying to hold up his end.

"Heh, heh," Stone said, taking a big swig of the bourbon. He stole a glance at Dolce, who was smiling broadly. He hoped she wasn't armed.

Across the coffee table, on the sofa opposite, Arrington was smiling just as broadly. She emptied a martini glass and motioned to Manolo for another. "Well, isn't this fun!" she said. "Old friends together again. How long has it been?"

"A long time," Mary Ann replied, as if it had not been long enough.

"Oh, Stone," Dino said, standing up. "I brought you something; come out to the guest house for a minute."

"Excuse me," Stone said to Arrington.

"Hurry back, now!" she replied.

Stone followed Dino out the back door and toward the guest house. "What the fuck is going on?" he demanded.

"How should I know?" Dino replied. "I didn't know Dolce was coming until she got here, ten minutes before you did. Mary Ann must have invited her, but she didn't say a goddamned thing to me about it." He opened the door to the guest house and led the way in.

"And she told Arrington we were married in Venice?"

"You bet she did, pal, and she laid it on thick. Arrington was smiling a lot, but she would have killed her, if there had been anything sharp lying around." Dino went to his suitcase and handed Stone his little Walther automatic, in its chamois shoulder holster.

"What am I going to do with this now?" Stone asked.

"I'd wear it if I were you," Dino replied. "You might need it before the evening is over."

Stone shucked off his jacket and slipped into the shoulder holster.

"My thirty-two automatic wasn't on your bedside table, where you said it would be, and it wasn't in your safe, either."

"That's weird," Stone said. "Helene wouldn't have touched it when she was cleaning; she hates guns, and Joan wouldn't have had any reason to be upstairs."

"I asked Joan about it, and she said she hadn't seen it."

Stone checked the Walther; it was loaded. He put the safety on and returned it to the holster.

"You're going to need a local permit for that, aren't you?" Dino asked.

"Rick Grant got me one last year when I was out here; it's in my pocket. Can you think of some way to get Dolce out of here? I've got to explain to Arrington what's going on."

"I should have thought you would have explained it to her a long time ago," Dino said. "That girl is really pissed off."

"I realize I should have," Stone said, "but I just didn't want to bring up Dolce while Arrington is in all this trouble."

"Well, you're the one who's in trouble, now, and we'd better get back in there, so you can face the music."

They went back into the house, and found Mary Ann struggling to keep some sort of conversation going.

Manolo came into the room. "Dinner is served, Mrs. Calder," he said.

Everyone rose and marched into the dining room.

"Now let's see," Arrington said, surveying the beautifully laid table. "We'll have Mr. and Mrs. Bacchetti to my left, and Mr. and Mrs. Bar-rington, here, to my right."

Stone winced as if lashed. Everybody sat down, and a cold soup was served.

"This is a beautiful house," Dino said.

"Thank you, Dino; Vance let me redo the place after we were married, so I can take full credit. Stone, where are you and Dolce going to make your home?"

Stone dropped his spoon into his soup bowl, splashing gazpacho over his jacket.

Dolce took up the slack. "Papa offered to give us his Manhattan place, but Stone has insisted that we live in his house," she said. "I'm so looking forward to redecorating the place. It's a little… seedy right now."

Stone could not suppress a groan. Dolce knew that Arrington had had a big hand in decorating his house. The soup was taken away, before Arrington could throw it at Dolce.

"And how is your father?" Arrington asked solicitously. "And all those business associates of his? The ones with the broken noses?"

Stone stood up. "Excuse me." He left the table.

Arrington caught up with him at the front door. "Running away, are you? You complete shit! You married that bitch?"

"I have a lot to explain to you," Stone said. "Can we have lunch tomorrow?"

"Lunch? I don't ever want to see you again! Not as long as I live!"

"Arrington, you're going to have to listen to me about this."

"The hell I do!" she hissed, then pushed him out the front door and slammed it behind him.

Stone was already in his car when he saw Dolce in his rearview mirror, coming out of the house. The gates opened for him, and he floored the accelerator.

He made a couple of quick turns, headed nowhere, just trying to be sure that Dolce wasn't following him. He made the freeway, then got off at Santa Monica Boulevard, so he could keep an eye on several blocks behind him. Sweat was pouring off him, and he was breathing rapidly. When he had to stop for a traffic light he took the opportunity to put the car's top down, and the breeze began to cool him. His breathing slowed, and he began to feel nearly normal, except that he was numb between the ears. He did his best to drive both Dolce and Arrington out of his head, tried to think of nothing. For a while he was in a nearly semiconscious state, driving by instinct, uncaring of his direction.

When his head cleared he found himself at a traffic light in

Malibu. He dug his notebook out of his pocket, looked up the number and dialed the hands-free phone.

"Hello?" she said, her voice low and inviting.

"It's Stone; I'm in Malibu. Are you alone?"

"I sure am," she replied.

"Not for long." He headed for the Colony.