Kisser (2010)

fact, I sent them home when they dropped me off here. They said they would return your car tomorrow morning.”
    Stone signaled for a menu, but he had trouble concentrating on it. He was still thinking of all those limbs.

20
    STONE WAS AT HIS DESK the following morning when Willie Leahy rapped on his doorjamb.
    “Good morning, Willie,” Stone said.
    Willie tossed him his car keys. “It’s in the garage,” he said. “I filled it up with the premium stuff.”
    “Thanks,” Stone said.
    “Listen,” Willie said, “I don’t know if we shouldn’t be watching her for a while longer.”
    “Why do you say that? She’s feeling safe now.”
    “Just a feeling,” Willie said. “That and a phone conversation I overheard.”
    “What was that about?”
    “Well, there’s a pair of restrooms in the wings of the theater—ladies’ and gents’—and there’s some sort of vent, and you can hear the girls talking sometimes.”
    “You been eavesdropping, Willie?”
    “Look, I was having a splash, and I heard Carrie on the phone.”
    “Yes?”
    “She was talking to Delta Air Lines.”
    “Yes?”
    “She was making a reservation to Atlanta this weekend.”
    “ Atlanta? ”
    “I kid you not,” Willie said, “and I don’t know why the fuck she would want to be in the same city as that ex-husband of hers.”
    “Neither do I,” Stone said. “I mean, she lived there a long time, and I suppose she could have some business there.”
    “On a weekend?”
    “You have a point,” Stone admitted.
    “Well, let us know if we can be of further service,” Willie said, and, with a little wave, he left.
    Stone was still thinking about this when Joan buzzed him. “Brian Doyle on one.”
    “Hello, Brian.”
    “Morning. I found Mitzi a car: a Bentley, would you believe?”
    “How did you come to confiscate a Bentley?”
    “Drug bust, what else? It’s an Arnage, a few years old, but it looks good.”
    “I guess it would,” Stone said.
    “Listen, Mitzi’s new friend Rita found out there’s a party at Derek Sharpe’s studio tonight. She wangled Mitzi an invitation, but she doesn’t want to go with her, figuring that her connection to Parsons might affect the way Sharpe sees Mitzi. Will you take her to the party?”
    “Sure, I guess so.”
    “Great. A Bentley, chauffeured by a cop, will pick you up at six thirty.”
    “Sounds good.”
    “Some guys have all the luck.” Brian hung up.
    Joan came into his office and put a box on his desk. “Sorry, the printer couldn’t get them done yesterday.”
    Stone opened the box and removed one of Mitzi’s new cards. “Very nice,” he said. “That should do the trick.”
     
     
     
    AT SIX THIRTY sharp Stone’s bell rang. When he opened the door, it was filled by about six feet four inches of Irish American, dressed in a black suit with a black tie.
    “Evening,” he said. “I’m Tom Rabbit.”
    Stone shook the extended paw. “Good to meet you, Tom.”
    “You ready?”
    “Yep.”
    “She’s in the car already.”
    Stone set the alarm and locked the door, then walked to the car. Tom had the door open for him. He slid in beside Mitzi and kissed her on the cheek.
    “Don’t say anything about yesterday afternoon when Tommy is around,” she whispered, before the driver could get into the car.
    “Right.” He handed her the box of cards. “Your credentials.” She opened the box and inspected the contents. “Hey, very good,” she said, tucking some of them into her small purse. “Makes me feel like I really live there.”
    “Is it a nice place?”
    “Haven’t you seen it?”
    “Nope.”
    “It’s a fucking palace,” she said. “Sorry, I’m talking like a cop. Got to get over that.”
    “I’m glad you’re comfortable there.”
    “My room is better than anything at any hotel in this city,” she said.
    “I wouldn’t talk about that tonight,” Stone said. “The card will say everything that’s necessary to impress Sharpe.”
    “What’s Sharpe like?” she asked.
    “Reptilian,” Stone replied, “but women seem attracted to him.”
    “Oh, we love reptiles,” Mitzi said, laughing. “They can always be relied on to slap us around and steal our money.”
    “I’m sure Derek Sharpe won’t disappoint,” Stone said.
    They drove downtown and arrived at Sharpe’s building to find half a dozen drivers waiting outside in their cars, mostly black Lin colns, the preferred transport for New York’s affluent, who don’t like to arrive at a