Cold Paradise (8 page)

14

S
TONE DROVE QUICKLY, BUT NOT TOO QUICKLY, THROUGH the streets of Palm Beach. It was well after midnight, now, and traffic was light, but he did not wish to attract the attention of a traffic cop at this moment. He swung into West Indies Drive and, shortly, into the driveway of Liz’s house. One of Thad Shames’s Mercedes convertibles was parked outside and, beside it, what was obviously an unmarked police car. The front door of the house stood wide open.

Stone walked quickly inside and looked around. No one was in sight. “Hello!” he called out.

“In here,” came a man’s voice through the living room and to his left. Stone followed the sound and arrived in the study. Shames and Liz, who appeared to be unharmed, and a man in a police officer’s uniform with stars on the shoulders stood in the center of the room, which was a mess. All the pictures on the mantel had been swept onto the floor, a large mirror on one wall had been shattered and much of the furniture had been overturned, reducing some small porcelain figurines to shards.

“What’s happened?” Stone asked.

“We’re not sure,” Shames replied. “Stone, this is Chief Dan Griggs of the Palm Beach Police Department. Chief, this is my and Mrs. Harding’s attorney, Stone Barrington.”

The chief offered his hand. “I thought I knew all the attorneys in town,” he said. “Good to meet you, Mr. Barrington.”

Stone shook the man’s hand. “And you, Chief. I’m based in New York; that’s why we haven’t met. What’s happened here tonight?”

Shames spoke up. “Liz and I arrived to find the front door open and the place a mess.”

“The whole place? The living room looked all right.”

“I’ve had a look around,” the chief said. “This is the only room that was disturbed.”

“Anything missing?” Stone asked.

Liz spoke up. “I can’t find anything gone, just broken.”

“What about the door? Was it forced?”

Griggs shook his head. “Either it wasn’t locked, or somebody had a key.”

“I’m afraid it may not have been locked,” Liz said sheepishly. “I tend to forget. Anyway, Chief Griggs and his men take such good care of us all that it hardly seems necessary.”

“I thank you, Mrs. Harding,” the chief said, obviously pleased, “but we’d really prefer you to lock your doors.”

“I’ll make a point of it from now on.”

“So this is vandalism?” Stone asked.

“Looks that way to me,” Griggs replied. “Nothing taken, only this room messed up; nothing else to call it.”

“Chief, have you had other incidents like this in town?”

Griggs shook his head. “We might get some spray paint on a building or a bridge sometimes—teenagers, you know—but I can’t recall an incident of vandalism in a private home, unless it was connected to a burglary.”

“No known perpetrators of this sort of thing around town?”

“None in our files.”

“Chief, why don’t you and I take a walk through the house. Liz, Thad, will you excuse us for a couple of minutes?”

“Of course,” they said together.

Stone and the chief left the room, and Stone led him toward the stairs. “Let’s take a look up here.”

Griggs followed him, but at the top, stopped. “I’ve already walked through here with Mrs. Harding,” he said.

“I know,” Stone replied, “but I wanted to make you aware of a situation.”

“Go right ahead,” Griggs said.

“Mrs. Harding was formerly married to a man named Paul Manning, a well-known writer. Her name was Allison Manning, at the time.”

“Why’d she change it to Elizabeth?”

“To get away from Manning.”

“And you think he did this?”

“Very possibly. The photographs on the mantel were of Mrs. Harding and her late husband. Looks like a jealous rage to me.”

Griggs nodded and wrote something in his notebook. “Mr. Barrington, your name is familiar. Were you ever on the police force in New York?”

Stone nodded. “For fourteen years.”

“I’ve got it,” the chief said. “The Sasha Nijinsky case.”

“That’s right. I retired about that time; disability.”

“You look pretty healthy to me.”

“Bullet in the knee.”

“Hope you got the son of a bitch.”

“My partner did.”

“Allison Manning,” the chief mused. “Something about an island?”

“That’s right. She was accused of murdering her husband, but, of course, he wasn’t dead.”

“Saw something about it on
Sixty Minutes
.”

“Yes. It got a lot of press at the time.”

“You’re a pretty high-profile lawyer up there, aren’t you?”

“Not when I can help it.”

“You got a card?”

Stone handed him one, and he pocketed it. “About this Paul Manning. You think we’re going to hear from him again?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised.”

“You think he might harm Mrs. Harding?”

“That’s a possibility.”

“I’ll look into it.”

“Chief, I hope you’ll keep all this background information in confidence. I’m sure Mrs. Harding wouldn’t want people to connect her with a past incident that was very traumatic for her.”

“We have a lot of well-known people in Palm Beach, and I run a very discreet department,” Griggs said.

“I’m sure you do, and I appreciate your discretion.”

“Can we go back downstairs, now?”

“Yes, I just wanted to discuss all this with you privately.”

They started down the stairs.

“Tell you what,” Griggs said. “I’ll put a man on the house for a while. Nobody’ll notice him, not even Mrs. Harding.”

“I’d be grateful for that,” Stone said.

“Of course, I can’t keep people on this forever, if nothing happens.”

“I understand completely. I’m going to suggest to Mr. Shames that he invite Mrs. Harding to stay at his house. He’s going out of town for a while, but I’m sure his staff could make her comfortable there.”

“Good idea,” Griggs said.

“Maybe your man could stay in the house?”

“With Mrs. Harding’s permission, sure.”

“I’ll have a word with her.”

They reached the study.

“Liz is going to come back to the house with me,” Shames said. “She’ll stay with us, at least until I get back from the Coast.”

“Good idea,” Stone said. “Liz, the chief would like to have one of his men stay in the house. Is that all right?”

“Oh, yes,” Liz said. “That would be wonderful.” She went to a desk drawer, found a spare key and gave it to the chief, along with the alarm code.

“Well, if you folks don’t need me anymore, I’ll be going,” the chief said. “I’ll have a man here in half an hour.”

Hands were shaken all around, and the chief departed.

“I’d better pack some things,” Liz said, and left the room.

Shames turned to Stone. “It’s this Manning guy, isn’t it?”

“Very likely,” Stone said. “This has none of the markings of a random crime—nothing taken, only one room disturbed.”

“So, he’s tracked her down.”

“It looks that way.”

“I’m glad you’re staying on for a while, Stone. I feel better knowing you’re here to take care of her.”

“I’ll let Woodman and Weld know.”

“I’ll call Bill Eggers and arrange everything.”

“Thank you.”

Shames was quiet for a moment. “Stone,” he said finally, “you think he’s going to try to kill her?”

“I think if that’s what he had in mind, he’d already have tried. This was obviously to frighten her.”

“It worked,” Thad said. “She was a mess for a few minutes after we got here. There are some guns on the boat. I’ll have Juanito make them available to you.”

“I hope I won’t need a gun,” Stone said. “But you never know.”

Stone followed Thad and Liz back to the house, and when they were safely inside, he walked back to the yacht and his cabin. His adrenaline was still a little high, and he got out of his dinner jacket and the rest of his clothes and into a hot shower. He was drying himself when he heard a soft knock at the cabin door. He got into a robe and went to answer it.

He opened the door to find Callie Hodges standing there, in a silk dressing gown, holding a 9mm automatic pistol.

15

S
TONE STARED AT THE ARMED YOUNG WOMAN. “MY money or my life?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she said, handing him the gun. “Thad wanted you to have this. I can’t imagine why. What’s happened?”

“Nothing serious,” he replied. He checked that the safety was on, then tossed the gun onto the bed.

“May I come in for a minute?” she asked.

“Sure.” He stood back and allowed her to enter.

She went and sat on the sofa before the fireplace. “Would you like a fire?” she asked. “It’s cool tonight.”

“All right.” He went and sat on the sofa beside her, keeping some distance between them.

She found a box of long matches, checked to be sure the flue was open and lit the fire. The kindling caught, and the fire blazed cheerily. She switched off the ceiling light and sat down on the sofa again. “I want to apologize to you for my behavior today.”

Stone didn’t say anything. He was still annoyed with her.

“I was interfering in your life without any idea of the consequences. I hope having Arrington here didn’t make things worse between you.”

“They were already pretty bad,” he replied. “I suppose I had a chance to make it up with her, but I didn’t like the terms.”

“You accept my apology?”

“I do,” he said, his voice softening, “and I appreciate it.”

“You don’t have to explain anything to me. I don’t have the right to ask.”

“I’ll explain anyway,” Stone said. “I told you about my trip to the islands, where I met Allison Manning, now Liz Harding, but I didn’t tell you that, at the time, Arrington and I were living together in New York. We were supposed to fly down together, but she was delayed and missed the flight, and then there was a snowstorm, and she was stuck there for another day. She was a magazine writer, and
The New Yorker
asked her to do a profile of Vance Calder, whom she already knew. She accepted, and the next thing I knew, she had gone back to California with him, and they were married, almost overnight.”

“That must have come as a shock.”

“It did. A bigger shock came later, when she told me she was pregnant.”

“With your child or Vance’s?”

“She didn’t know. It could have been either of us. In due course, she had the child, I supplied a blood sample, and so did Vance. She called to say that the boy was Vance’s, and that was that.”

“I’m sorry.”

“There’s more. When Vance died, I went out to help Arrington handle the situation, and in so doing, I learned that Vance may have been in control of the test results.”

“So, you’re the father?”

“It may be that the results showed that Vance really was, but if not, he could have had the report changed.”

“So you may be the father and you may not?”

“Right.”

“So why don’t you do the test again?”

“Arrington doesn’t want it done.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know.”

“You’d think she’d want to know for sure who the father of the child is.”

“You’d think.”

“Who does he look like?”

“He looks like both Vance and my father.”

She laughed. “I’m sorry, but it’s a little . . .”

“Yes, I know, funny.” He smiled himself.

“So that’s how you left it with Arrington?”

“That’s it.”

“Let me ask you something,” she said. “If the test were done, and the child turned out to be yours, what would you want to do about it?”

“I’m not sure, except I’d want him to know, eventually, and I’d like to have some part in his life.”

“What about Arrington? Wouldn’t you want her back?”

“Arrington and I seem to be . . . I think the expression is ‘star-crossed.’ She’s a volatile person, and every time we have seemed to be getting close to each other again, something happens to blow it up.”

“And that’s what happened tonight?”

“I told her that if she didn’t want to know who the boy’s father is, then she didn’t want to know me.”

“Then how, may I ask, did your tie get mussed up?”

Stone laughed. “Arrington had just pulled it loose when I made my little speech, and she stalked out.”

“Out of where?”

“Out of her room.”

“And how did you get to her room?”

“On foot.”

Callie laughed again.

“I thought we were touring the house. I didn’t know where her room was.”

“So you were led down the garden path?”

“In a manner of speaking.”

Callie stroked his cheek with the backs of her fingers. “Poor Stone,” she said. “Between Arrington and me, you’ve had a rough time tonight, haven’t you?”

“Beset from all sides,” Stone said, kissing her fingertips.

“Can I make it up to you?” she asked, sliding across the sofa toward him.

“You can try,” Stone said.

She put her hand on his leg under the robe and slid it up his thigh. “How’s this?” she asked.

“It’s a start,” he replied.

She untied his robe and took it away, then untied her own robe, letting it drop to the floor. She pressed him back on the sofa, knelt beside him and kissed his penis.

Stone made a little noise.

She took him into her mouth and played gently with him, rubbing a nipple, getting the response she wanted at both ends. She held his testicles in one hand, doing inventive things with her tongue, then she stopped for a moment. “This is just for you,” she said. “You don’t have to wait for me.”

“I want you now,” Stone said, panting a little.

“Maybe later,” she said, taking him into her mouth again. She pushed his legs apart and pulled his knees up, then began exploring the cleft of his buttocks with her fingers.

“I’m going to explode soon,” Stone said.

“Not yet,” she replied, then began again. She moved her head slowly up and down, beginning with the tip, then pressing until nearly the whole length of him had disappeared.

Stone couldn’t find words, only noises.

Then Stone exploded, and she stayed with him for another minute, prolonging the orgasm, keeping him going until he could only cry out and collapse back onto the sofa.

Finally, cradling his testicles in a hand, she laid her head on his belly and kissed it softly. “How are you?” she asked.

“I can’t make a fist,” he replied.

“You hardly need to,” she laughed.

They remained that way for a moment, then she climbed onto the sofa with him and lay on top of him, nestling her head into his shoulder.

“There’s something else I should tell you,” he said, “just so you won’t think I’m keeping anything from you.”

“I’m listening.”

“When I heard about Arrington and Vance—I was on the island of St. Marks, at the time—Allison Manning and I had . . .”

She raised her head. “Each other?”

“Yes. I was angry with Arrington, and Allison . . .”

“Was there?”

“Yes.”

She laid her head back down. “Well, Allison is somewhere down the road, and I’m here, so just stay away from her.”

“That may be difficult,” he said.

“What do you mean?”

“Somebody broke into her house this evening and trashed a room. Thad has brought her back here. He’s asked me to look after her while he’s on the Coast.”

She raised her head again. “Where’s that gun?”

He pulled her head back down. “Not to worry.”

“How do I know that?”

“Let me show you,” he said. He rolled her onto her back and knelt beside the sofa, the way she had. With his tongue, he explored her soft fur. “How’s that for reassurance?” he asked.

She pulled his head back into her lap. “It’s a start,” she said.