Stone Barrington 06-11

Dolce, what would you have me do?”
    “Simply call me, and I will do the rest,” Eduardo said. “Please don’t try to deal with her yourself. From what her doctors have told me, she could be very dangerous.”
    “Eduardo, if Dolce should be traveling under a name not her own, is there a name she might choose to use?”
    Eduardo was silent while he thought. “Once, when she was sixteen, she ran away after a quarrel with me. At that time, she used the name Portia Buckingham. It was a ridiculous name for a schoolgirl to choose, I know, but it was a kind of fantasy identity she made up as a child. She might possibly use it again.”
    “Would you like me to make some discreet inquiries?” Stone asked.
    “Only if you can do so without involving the local police,” Eduardo replied. “I do not wish for Dolce to be brought to the attention of the authorities, unless she tries to harm someone.”
    “There’s not much I can do on my own,” Stone said, “but I’ll try.”
    “Ask Dino for his help. She is his sister-in-law, after all.”
    “I’ll do that.” Stone told Eduardo how he could be contacted.
    “Goodbye, Stone, and thank you for your concern for Dolce.”
    “Goodbye, Eduardo.” Stone hung up.
    Dino sat down beside him. “You called Eduardo?”
    “I felt I had to. He’s sending people down here.”
    “Great, now we’ll have goombahs roaming the streets of this piss-elegant town.”
    “Dino, you know Eduardo is more subtle than that.”
    “We’ll see.”
    “He wants your help in finding her.”
    “What can I do?”
    Stone handed him a Palm Beach classified directory. “Start calling hotels. Flash your badge. Inquire about her under her own name and under the name Portia Buckingham.”
    “ Portia Buckingham? Give me a break!”
    “It’s a name she used to fantasize about having when she was a child, Eduardo says.”
    Dino shook his head and took the phone book. “I’ll use the phone in the saloon,” he said.
    “Don’t alarm anybody, just find out if she’s registered.”
    “Thanks, Stone. I needed that advice.” Dino went into the saloon.
    “Leave a description with the desk clerk, too,” Stone called after him.
    Stone called his office. “Hi, Joan, it’s me. What’s happening?”
    “Amazingly little,” she said.
    “Patch me into the dictator,” he said. “I have some documents I’d like you to type up and FedEx to me today.”
    “Sure. Anything else?”
    “Not at the moment.”
    “Here you go.”
    Stone heard the beep and began to dictate. When he had finished and given Joan her instructions, he hung up and went into the saloon. Dino was just hanging up the phone.
    “I need the phone book for a minute,” Stone said.
    Dino tossed it to him. “I’ve called half a dozen places, starting with the Breakers.”
    “No luck, I suppose?”
    “She’s already checked in and out of two—the Breakers and the Brazilian Court, under Rosaria Bianchi.”
    “You’re kidding. That was easy.”
    “Not so easy, pal. She’s moving every day, and that’s going to make her harder to find.”
    “Oh. Well, at least we know she’s really in town.”
    “That, we know.”
    “Will you call Eduardo and tell him that?”
    “Okay, I guess.” Dino did not like dealing directly with his father-in-law, but he seemed willing to make an exception this time. He picked up the phone and dialed the number.
    Stone began looking in the phone book under airports, and when he found what he was looking for made the call.
    Dino finished his conversation with Eduardo. “What are you up to?” he asked Stone.
    “I told our friend Mr. James that I was on the west coast of Florida, a couple of hours’ drive from the Palm Beach airport. I want him to go on thinking that until we get this settled.” He made the arrangements he required, then hung up. “There, I guess I’ve done what I can.” He picked up the phone again. “I’ll make some of the hotel calls. You don’t mind if I use your name, do you?”
    “When did I ever mind?” Dino asked. “When did you ever care if I mind?”

45
    A T MIDMORNING, STONE DROVE NORTH ON I-95 AND took the well-marked exit. Soon he was at North Palm Beach County airport, a small general aviation field a few miles from Palm Beach International. He found North County Aviation and parked his car.
    Inside, he told the receptionist why he was there, and she made a quick phone call. “Don will be right with you,” she said. “You’re taking the Warrior,