Kisser (2010)

you do, don’t go back to Derek’s place and don’t see him for a few days.” He took a key from his pocket. “This will let you into my house.” He wrote the security code on another card and gave it to her. “Please, please, make yourself safe by being alone for a few days.”
    “I’ll think about what you’ve said,” Hildy replied, then looked up and waved. “My friend is here.”
    Stone got up and went back to his table, where Dino had started without him.
    “Your cheeseburger is getting cold,” Dino said. “Who was that?”
    “Her name is Hildy Parsons. She’s the reason I got mixed up in this thing with Brian Doyle.”
    “That looked like a pretty earnest conversation,” Dino said.
    “I hope she heard me.” Stone’s cell phone rang. “Hello?”
    “It’s Mitzi. I wanted you to know that we hit pay dirt at Teterboro,” she said. “Larsen and Sharpe have chartered half a dozen times from the same company, every time to the Bahamas or some other island.”
    “Have they been to the Cayman Islands?” he asked.
    “I’m not sure if that’s one of them.”
    “It’s probably where they’re banking,” Stone said. “They would probably go to some other island first and then change planes if they’re carrying cash.”
    “Got it,” she said.
    Stone wanted to tell her about Hildy Parsons, but he decided not to. “See you tomorrow morning at the Carlyle,” he said.
    “Sure,” she said. “Gotta run.” She hung up.

49
    STONE ARRIVED at the Carlyle Hotel at Madison and Seventy-sixth at the stroke of ten. He didn’t see Mitzi or Tom, but Derek Sharpe and Sig Larsen were sitting at a corner table in the dining room, so he joined them.
    “Good morning, gentlemen,” Stone said, and hands were shaken. He sat down and looked at his watch.
    “Women!” Sharpe said.
    “What’s that about women?” Mitzi asked, and they all turned to look at her. She was wearing a flaming red suit and carrying a handbag to match. Every head in the dining room had turned to follow her.
    Everybody stood up, Larsen held a chair for her. “Would you like something, Mitzi?”
    “Yes. I’ll order breakfast.” A waiter appeared, and she ordered scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast.
    “I’ll have the same,” Stone said, “with orange juice, coffee later.”
    The two men seemed surprised that Stone and Mitzi were ordering food.
    “Derek and I had breakfast earlier,” Larsen said, pouring himself and Derek another cup of coffee from the pot on the table.
    There was idle chat for a moment, then Larsen said, “So, Mitzi, what did you think of our investment opportunity?”
    “I think it’s very exciting,” she replied. “Stone is slightly less enthusiastic.”
    “Not at all,” Stone said. “I’m just accustomed to having more information before I advise a client to make an investment.”
    “As I told Stone,” Larsen said, “I am the only person outside the company who has all the facts, and since it’s crucial to keep the news of this software a secret until the company is ready to announce it, I simply can’t tell anyone anything that isn’t in the prospectus, and I promise you, very few people have seen that.”
    “I understand completely,” Mitzi said. “And when do you think the announcement will be made?”
    “In no more than ninety days,” Larsen said.
    “And what would you anticipate the stock price will do at that time?”
    “That’s when the initial public offering would be made,” Larsen said, “and I believe it will at least triple on the first day of the offering. It’s going to be the hottest thing since Google.”
    “Is the software in beta yet?” Stone asked.
    “It finished beta testing yesterday,” Larsen said, “and the results were fantastic—very few bugs for a brilliant new program. The next three months will be devoted to organizing the IPO and slipping subtle hints to the trade and business press to create a high level of buzz.”
    “And at what level will the stock be offered?” Stone asked. He turned his head slightly so that his earbug would capture their voices clearly.
    “Somewhere in the fifty to seventy-five range, probably,” Larsen replied. “You could make a bundle, Mitzi, by selling on the first day.”
    “That’s what I wanted to hear,” Mitzi said.
    “And at what level would you like to participate?” Larsen asked.
    “I’ll take a hundred thousand shares,” she replied, removing an alligator checkbook from her handbag and opening