Stone Barrington 06-11

someone, please write to David Highfill at Putnam, address above. Do not e-mail your discoveries to me, as I will already have learned about them from others.
    A list of all my published works appears in the front of this book. All the novels are still in print in paperback and can be found at or ordered from any bookstore. If you wish to obtain hardcover copies of earlier novels or of the two nonfiction books, a good used-book store or one of the on-line bookstores can help you find them. Otherwise, you will have to go to a great many garage sales.



This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

    Reckless Abandon

    A Signet Book / published by arrangement with the author

    All rights reserved.
    Copyright © 2004 by Stusrt Woods
    This book may not be reproduced in whole or part, by mimeograph or any other means, without permission. Making or distributing electronic copies of this book constitutes copyright infringement and could subject the infringer to criminal and civil liability.
    For information address:
    The Berkley Publishing Group, a division of Penguin Putnam Inc.,
    375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.

    The Penguin Putnam Inc. World Wide Web site address is
http://www.penguin.com

    ISBN: 978-1-1012-1009-3

    A SIGNET BOOK®
    Signet Books first published by The Signet Publishing Group, a member of Penguin Putnam Inc.,
    375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.
    SIGNET and the “ S ” design are trademarks belonging to Penguin Putnam Inc.

    Electronic edition: November, 2004

This book is for Harry and Gigi Benson.

1
    E LAINE’S, EARLY.
    Stone Barrington had just walked through the door when his cell phone vibrated in his jacket pocket. He dug it out, while Gianni led him back to his usual table. Dino wasn’t there yet.
    “Hello?”
    “Stone?” An unfamiliar female voice.
    “Yes.”
    “It’s Holly Barker.”
    It took only a nanosecond for Stone to display her image on the inside of his eyelids—tall, light brown hair, sun-streaked, well put together, badge. “Hello, Chief, how are you?”
    “Confused.”
    “How can I help?”
    “I’m in a taxi, and I don’t know where to tell the driver to take me. Can you recommend a good hotel, not too expensive?” “In what city?”

    “In New York. I’m headed for the Midtown Tunnel, I think.”
    “Why don’t you stay at my house? There’s a guest room.”
    “I have a friend with me.”
    “Male or female?”
    “Female.”
    “My secretary is there right now, working late. I’ll call and tell her to expect you.” He gave her his Turtle Bay address. “There are three guest rooms—two with king beds and one with twins, all on the top floor. You choose.”
    “Are you sure? I don’t want to put you to any trouble.”
    “No trouble at all. That’s what the guest rooms are for.”
    “When will I see you?”
    “Have you had dinner?”
    “No.”
    “Drop your luggage, freshen up, and meet me at Elaine’s—Second Avenue, between Eighty-eighth and Eighty-ninth.”
    “Sounds great. We’re at the tunnel now. How long should it take me?”
    “If you’re quick, half an hour, but you’re a woman…”
    “Half an hour it is, and don’t ever put a ‘but’ in front of that statement.” She hung up.
    Gianni put a Knob Creek on the rocks in front of him, and Stone took a sip. “Better get him something, too,” Stone said, pointing at Dino, his partner when he had been an NYPD detective. Dino spoke to a couple of people at the front tables, then came back and pulled up a chair. His drink had already arrived.
    “How you doing?” Dino asked.
    “Not bad. You?”
    “The same. You’re looking thoughtful.”
    “I was just trying to remember everything about my trip to Vero Beach, Florida, last year, when I was picking up my Malibu at the Piper factory.”
    “Why?”
    “I was in a bank in the next town, a place called Orchid Beach, getting a cashier’s check to pay for the airplane, when a bunch of guys wearing masks walked in and stuck the place up.”
    “Oh yeah, you told me about that. They shot a guy, didn’t they?”
    “Yes. A lawyer with a funny name—Oxblood, or something like that.”
    “Oxenhandler.”
    “How did you remember that?”
    Dino tapped his temple. “I do The New York Times