46

THEY DINED AT A ROUND, BURLED-WALNUT table in a lovely room with a bay window overlooking the gardens, which were illuminated in the twilight. An unnecessary, but cheerful fire glowed in the fireplace. Stone suddenly had an overwhelming sense of déjà vu.

“Vance,” he said, “when I was at Centurion during your shooting of a film last year, wasn’t I in this room?”

“You’re very observant, Stone,” Vance replied. “Much of the design of the cottage set was based on photographs of this house. Then, when I saw how they had done the dining room, I bought the furnishings and sent them here. I suppose it’s a bit ‘through the looking glass,’ isn’t it?”

“Just a little disorienting.” Stone was seated on his hostess’s right, between her and the scrumptious Lola. It occurred to him that he had never been at a table with such gorgeous women. Dolce was opposite him, between Vance and Lou, charming them both. Nobody was playing footsie with Stone.

“Stone,” Vance said, “I saw the piece in the Times about the explosion at the art gallery. Tell us about that, will you?”

Stone was immediately uncomfortable; he didn’t want to get into this. “Fortunately, nobody was seriously hurt. The feds are working on the bomb and the van, and Dino is in charge of the local investigation.”

“I understand you saved some lives,” Arrington said.

“I was lucky enough to notice the van before the explosion, so everybody was well away from the windows.”

“Except Stone,” Dolce said. “You should see the cuts on his back.” She shot a glance at Arrington.

“It really was nothing,” Stone said quickly.

“But what’s behind it?” Lou asked.

“The police don’t know, yet.”

“Stone, you’re too modest,” Dolce said. “Someone Stone arrested for murder years ago is out of prison, and bad things are happening to the people who helped put him there – and to the people close to them.” She let that sink in.

Everybody stopped eating.

“Stone’s secretary was murdered, and there has been an attack on my sister, who is now holed up at my father’s house with her child.”

“Alma is dead?” Arrington asked, aghast.

“I’m afraid so,” Stone replied.

“Plus, one of Stone’s neighbors is dead, and the doorman in his friend’s building, and a policeman who was there.”

“Dolce,” Stone said, “this is an unpleasant subject.”

“What are you and Dino doing to catch this man?” Arrington asked.

“Everything we can; he’s been elusive, but his photograph will be in tomorrow’s Times, and we hope that will produce some leads.”

“This man killed a lawyer in New York yesterday,” Dolce said.

“How do you know about that connection?” Stone asked, astonished. “I only heard about it late yesterday afternoon, and the connection with the other murders is not public.”

“I have my sources,” Dolce said.

“Mary Ann again,” Stone said.

Dolce shrugged.

Lola spoke for the first time, in a surprisingly small voice. “Does this mean that we’re all in danger?”

“Certainly not,” Stone said. “If I thought that for a moment, I wouldn’t be here.”

“I’m relieved to hear it,” Vance said.

“Very few people know that I bought a house here,” Stone said, glancing at Dolce. “Although some of them are very talkative.”

Dolce gave him a wry smile.

Dinner resumed, but the conversation was more subdued.

“You certainly lead an interesting existence, Stone,” Lou said. “I’m beginning to think that your mixing in our little contretemps of last year was only a minor episode in your life.”

“Lou,” Arrington said, “you might keep in mind that the mess we drew Stone into was our doing, and not his, and that we all owe him a great deal.”

“Of course, of course,” Lou said, backpedaling rapidly. “And I, for one, am very grateful to him.”

“That’s the first time I’ve heard you express it,” Arrington said.

Lola spoke up again. “What mess?”

“I’ll tell you later, my dear,” Lou said quickly.

There was a long silence.

“Tell us about your new house, Stone,” Arrington said.

Stone was grateful for the change in subject. “It was once the gatehouse for the property next door, a place called The Rocks.”

“Oh, I know that house,” Vance said. “Carolyn Klemm showed it to me when I was house-hunting here.”

“And what is your gatehouse like?” Arrington asked.

“Two bedrooms, two baths, a powder room, living room, dining area, and kitchen. It’s shingled, like the main house, and has a turret in front.”

“It sounds charming,” Arrington said. “I’d love to see it.”

“Wait until I get it properly put together, then you and Vance must come to dinner.”

“We’d love to,” Vance said. “Do you know who bought The Rocks?”

“No, I haven’t met them yet.”

“You will, if Carolyn Klemm has anything to say about it. Carolyn is the social engine around here; she puts people together in amazing ways.”

“She’s been kind enough to ask me to dinner,” Stone said.

“Then you’re on your way; soon you’ll know everybody.”

There was another long silence.

“You’ve done a beautiful job with this place, Arrington,” Stone said, finally.

“Oh, this is my first visit to the house,” Arrington replied.

Stone winced.

Arrington jumped in to save him. “Vance has the most amazing taste and judgment about furnishings and antiques. When I walked into the house I felt as if I’d arrived home.”

“Vance,” Lou said, “how did a vicar’s son from the south of England come by such a gift for design?”

Vance shrugged. “By watching my elders and betters, I suppose. My mother was always good at making the vicarages we lived in very homey, and that wasn’t always easy. We lived in everything from a run-down thatched cottage to a large, but very seedy Georgian house. I learned a lot by going to the movies, too; the movies were my second home and my university.”

Stone listened gratefully as Vance spun out the story of his childhood in England, happy to have the attention of the group off him.


Finally, the party broke up. Lou and Lola said good night and disappeared upstairs, Dolce went to the powder room, and Vance went to dismiss the cook and butler for the night. Stone found himself alone with Arrington on the front porch.

“It was a lovely evening,” he said.

“I’m so glad you could come”, she replied. “Stone…”

“Yes?”

She seemed to he struggling to speak.

“Are you happy, Arrington?”

She nodded. “In my way. I want you to know that I would have been happier if…”

“Shall we go?” Dolce said, coming out the front door. “This country air is making me sleepy.”

Vance joined them, and they made their good-byes. Arrington held Stone for a moment longer than she should have, but her husband didn’t seem to notice. Dolce, however, did.

On the way home, she said, “Well, that was nice, wasn’t it? You got to see your inamorata again. Was it fun?”

“Dolce,” Stone said, “you and I have known each other for only a few days, and it may surprise you to learn that I had a life before we met. I still have a life, and your place in it is tentative. You embarrassed me tonight, and you frightened my friends. There was absolutely no need to go into my current problems.”

“I’m sorry, Stone,” Dolce said sheepishly. “I apologize; it won’t happen again.”


That night they slept without touching each other. Stone’s mind was elsewhere.

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