Stone Barrington 06-11

him might be more daunting than telling Dolce.”
    “He’s been very kind to me; he made it plain that he was very happy about my becoming his son-in-law.”
    “He’s a nice man, but try not to make him angry. He would make a bad enemy, from what Vance has told me about him.”
    “Yes, I know; or, at least, that’s what Dino keeps telling me. God knows, I don’t want him for an enemy.”
    “Well, I wouldn’t let too much time pass before squaring this with both Eduardo and Dolce,” Arrington said. “It won’t get any easier.”
    “I know,” Stone replied.
    The phone on the table between them rang, and Arrington picked it up. “Yes? Oh, hello, Manolo; yes, I’m very well, thank you. I’ll be spending a couple of days out here.” She listened for a moment. “Did the police make much of a mess? Well, I’m sure you and Isabel can handle it. Yes, he’s right here.” She handed the phone to Stone. “Manolo wants to speak to you.”
    Stone took the phone. “Hello, Manolo.”
    “Good evening, Mr. Barrington. A lady has been telephoning you here; she’s called several times. A Miss Bianchi?”
    “Yes, I know her; I’ll call her tomorrow.”
    “She left a number.”
    Stone realized he had left Dolce’s number in Sicily at the Bel-Air house. He took out a pen and notebook. “Please give it to me.”
    Manolo repeated the number; Stone thanked him and hung up.
    “Dolce called?” Arrington asked.
    “Yes.” He looked at his notebook. “She seems to be at the Bel-Air Hotel.”
    “Why don’t you call her from the study,” Arrington said. “I don’t want to hear this conversation.”
    “Good idea.” Stone went into the study and dialed the hotel number.
    “Bel-Air Hotel,” the operator said.
    “Miss Dolce Bianchi, please.”
    “One moment. I’m sorry, sir, but we don’t have anyone by that name registered.”
    Stone was baffled for a moment; then he had a terrible thought. “Do you have a Mrs. Stone Barrington?”
    “Yes, sir; I’ll connect you.”
    As the phone rang, Stone gritted his teeth.

Nineteen

    T HE PHONE RANG AND RANG, AND FOR A MOMENT, Stone thought she’d be out. He was sighing with relief when Dolce, a little breathless, picked it up.
    “Hello?”
    Stone couldn’t quite bring himself to speak.
    “Stone, don’t you hang up on me,” she said.
    “I’m here.”
    “I’m sorry I took so long to answer; I was in the shower.”
    “We need to talk,” he said.
    “Come on over; I’ll order dinner for us.”
    “I won’t be able to stay for dinner; I have another commitment.” This was almost true.
    “I’ll be waiting.”
    “It’ll take me at least half an hour, depending on traffic. See you then,” he said hurriedly, before she asked where he’d be coming from. He hung up and went back out to the deck. “I’m going to go and see her now,” he said.
    Arrington stood up, put her arms around him and gave him a soulful kiss. For the first time—for the first time since she’d run off with Vance—he responded the way he wanted to. Arrington stepped back and patted him on the cheek. “Poor Stone,” she said. “Don’t worry—you can handle it.” She turned him around, pointed him toward the door, and gave him a spank on the backside, like a coach sending in a quarterback with a new play. “I’ll order in some food and fix us some dinner,” she called, as he reached the door.
    “Don’t start cooking until I call,” he said. “I don’t know how long this is going to take.”

    The mob at the Colony gate had boiled down to one TV van and a photographer, and although they stared at him as he drove through, they didn’t seem to connect him with Vance Calder’s widow. A few miles down the Pacific Coast Highway, there was an accident that held up traffic for half an hour, giving Stone more time than he wanted to think.
    Women, he reflected, usually broke it off with him, for lack of commitment. He had never been in the position of breaking off an engagement, and he dreaded the thought. By the time he got past the accident and made it to the hotel, he was an hour late.
    Dolce opened the door and threw herself into his arms. “Oh, God, I’ve missed you,” she whispered into his ear. It did not make Stone feel any better that she was naked. It seemed that women had been flaunting nakedness all day, and he had never been very good at resisting it. He pushed her into the suite and closed the door. “Please put something on; we have to talk.”
    Dolce