Chapter 25

Stone was awakened by the smell of coffee brewing. He sat up in bed in time to watch Arrington, wearing his robe, come into the bedroom with a tray containing orange juice, coffee, and an English muffin.

“Good morning,” she said. “I hope you’re ready for breakfast.” She set the tray on his lap.

“Actually, I’m more ready for you,” he said, stroking her cheek.

She kissed him on the forehead. “That’s a sweet thought, but I have an early appointment with my agent. I’ve got to run.” She stood up and sloughed off the robe, standing naked at the foot of the bed.

Stone set the tray aside and started to get up.

“Oh, no,” she said, grabbing for her underwear, “you get right back into bed.”

Stone fell back onto the pillows, watching her. “It seems to be my lot in life to watch you walk naked around my bedroom while I do nothing about it.”

She smiled, hooking her bra. “Bad timing,” she said.

“You’ve spent the past two nights in my bed…”

“Sweetie…” she pulled her sweater over her head and brushed her hair back with her fingers. “You’ve just caught me at a bad time in my life, and I need some time to sort things out.”

“How can I help?”

“By not pressing me.”

Stone picked up the tray and returned it to his lap. “Consider yourself unpressed,” he said.

“Stone,” she said, sitting next to him on the bed. “I like you, I really do; I want this to go somewhere…”

Stone took a bite of his muffin. “Arrington, it can’t go anywhere until it goes somewhere.”

Her shoulders slumped. She crossed her arms, took hold of the sweater, and yanked it over her head. “All right,” she said, “let’s do it.”

Stone took another bite of the muffin. “No thanks,” he said, his voice muffled by the food. “I’m eating.”

“Tell me what you want,” she said.

Stone washed the muffin down with some orange juice. “I don’t know what I want, beyond the immediate urge to make love to you, but I know what I don’t want; I don’t want to be kept at arm’s length.”

“I don’t mean to do that.”

Stone sighed. “I think what we need to do is start over.”

“Okay.”

“When would you like to do that?”

“Oh, Jesus, it’s a really bad time for…”

“Arrington, you owe me nothing; you don’t have to change your life to make room for me.”

“But I want to make room for you.”

“Then what you have to do is figure out what’s clogging up your life, and do something about it.”

“That’s just like a man,” she said. “Figure out your life, rearrange it, order your existence.”

“This may have escaped your attention, but I am a man, and I don’t see what’s wrong with ordering your existence. Everybody has to order his existence, just to get through the day.”

“Well, if that’s how you feel about it,” she said huffily, struggling back into the sweater.

“It certainly is,” he said. “You go and take a look at your life, and if you find some room in it, call me.”

“Typical,” she said, throwing things into her duffel.

Typical?” he nearly shouted.

“Don’t raise your voice to me!”

Stone’s bedside phone buzzed, and the intercom light flashed. He ignored it and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry,” he said.

“Good for you.”

“Is this our first fight?”

“It could be our last one,” she shot back, getting into her coat.

The intercom buzzed again. Stone picked it up. “Yes?” he said.

“Stone, I’m sorry to disturb you,” his secretary said, “but Bill Eggers left a message on the office machine last night. He wants you to be at his office this morning at ten for a meeting; he said it was important.”

“Thanks,” Stone said and hung up.

“Now you’re being rude to your secretary,” Arrington said.

Stone looked at his bedside clock and got out of bed. “I’ve got a ten o’clock appointment,” he said, “and it’s nine-thirty now.”

Arrington looked at him. “So now you’re going to parade around naked and try to turn me on.”

“It’s a desperate move, but it’s the only card I have left to play.”

“It’s working,” she said, walking over to him, dropping the duffel.

She made a grab at his crotch, but he dodged her and ran toward the bathroom. “Oh, no,” he called back, “you’re going to have to wait until I can make room in my busy schedule for you.”

“Bastard!” she yelled after him. “I’ll call you tonight.” She picked up the duffel and left.


Stone arrived at Woodman & Weld five minutes late and went directly to Bill Eggers’s office.

“Come in, Stone, and have a seat,” Eggers said, pointing at a chair next to the sofa. “You know Glynnis Hickock from Amanda Dart’s dinner party last week.”

Dick Hickock’s wife sat primly at one end of the sofa. “Good morning,” she said.

Stone sat down. “Of course. How are you?”

“Just great,” the woman said through clenched teeth.

“Would anyone like some coffee?” Eggers asked.

“I would,” Glynnis responded.

“Bill, could I speak with you outside for just a minute?” Stone asked. He had an idea of where this might be leading, and he wanted to head it off before it got started.

“Stone, don’t worry, anything you’ve got to say you can say in front of Glynnis.” He set a cup on the coffee table and poured from a Thermos. “The short version of this is, Glynnis needs some surveillance on her husband, in preparation for divorce proceedings.”

“Bill, I really have to speak to you alone, and right now.”

Eggers looked at him, surprised. “Glynnis, I’m sorry, will you excuse us for just a moment?”

Glynnis crossed her legs and picked up her coffee cup but said nothing.

Stone walked into the adjacent conference room, waited for Eggers, then closed the door. “I can’t be involved in this,” he said.

Now you tell me,” Eggers cried. “Do you know how big a divorce this is going to be?”

“I can guess, but I can’t be involved. I have a conflict.”

“What kind of conflict?” Eggers was working up an anger now.

“I’m representing her husband on this DIRT thing.”

“What? You’re supposed to be representing Amanda on that, not Dick Hickock.”

“Hickock called me when he saw the sheet; I told him I couldn’t represent him, so he called Amanda, and she called me and told me to go ahead.”

“As an investigator, then, not as a lawyer?”

“Same thing, as far as I’m concerned. If you’d talked to me ahead of time, I could have explained it to you.”

“What am I going to tell Glynnis?”

“The truth; do you want me to do it?”

“I’d appreciate it.”

Stone went back into Eggers’s office and sat down. “Glynnis, I’m sorry, but I have an ethical conflict in representing you in this matter.”

Her hackles went up. “You’re working for Dick, aren’t you? Good God, you’ve been following me?

“No, I have not been following you, nor have I been asked to. I’m representing Dick in another matter, and that creates a conflict for me; I hope you can understand that.”

She swiveled her head and looked out the window, saying nothing.

“Glynnis,” Eggers broke in, “this doesn’t mean that the firm can’t represent you, just that Stone can’t. He’s not employed by the firm; he is only of counsel. I promise you we’ll deal with this matter in a manner that will represent your interests to the highest possible degree. Stone, I think that will be all,” he said.

Stone made a brief good-bye and left the office.


He was barely back at his desk when his secretary buzzed him. “Tiffany Potts is on the phone.”

Stone punched the flashing button. “Hello?”

“Hi, remember me?” she asked cheerfully.

“Of course.”

“You said to call you if I thought somebody might be following me.”

“Yes.”

“Well, somebody is.”

“Where are you calling from?”

“My apartment.”

“Let’s not meet there.”

“How about the Oak Bar at the Plaza in an hour?” she asked.

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