Stone Barrington 06-11

good.”
    “Strangled anybody else lately?” she asked Stone.
    “Stop it, you’re worse than Dino.”
    “I think a woman did it,” Elaine said.
    “How come?” Dino asked.
    “Stands to reason, doesn’t it? Some woman Stone dumped probably did it.”
    Dino nodded. “Women are born killers, like cats. Who’ve you dumped lately, Stone?”
    “I haven’t dumped anybody; I get dumped, not the other way around.”
    “That’s true,” Dino said, nodding vigorously. “Stone gets dumped a lot.”
    “Well, not a lot, ” Stone said, “but once in a while.”
    “More than that,” Dino said.
    “Just once in a while.”
    “Okay, who’re you seeing at the moment?”
    “The U.S. Attorney,” Elaine said, “but she hasn’t had time to dump him, yet.”
    “Why don’t you two just get dumping off your minds?” Stone asked.
    “What’s-her-name dumped him,” Dino said. “You know, the one that married the billionaire from Palm Beach.”
    “Right,” Elaine said. “And there was Arrington, she dumped him. You know, Dino, Stone does get dumped a lot.
    “Let’s order dinner,” Stone said, picking up a menu.

    “About time,” Elaine said, getting up and wandering over to another table.
    AFTER DINNER, Billy Bob grabbed the check, tossed a wad of two-dollar bills on the table and stood up. “Y’all got to excuse me,” he said. “Got a late date.” He put on his coat and left.
    “More two-dollar bills,” Dino said, poking at them with a finger. “Where does he get them?”
    “I have no idea,” Stone said, “but there never seems to be a shortage.” He took a bill from the pile, stuck it in his pocket and replaced it with a pair of ones. “Souvenir,” he said.
    “Oh,” Dino said, digging into his coat pocket. “I meant to give Billy Bob back Warren Buffett’s card.” He handed it to Stone. “You can give it to him next time you consult with him.”
    Stone glanced at the card and put it in his pocket. “Will do.”

12
    ON SATURDAY NIGHT, Tiff arrived at Stone’s house at seven, bearing an armload of shopping bags and looking a little frazzled.
    “Whew!” she said, giving Stone a kiss. “I’m beat!”
    “You need a drink,” Stone said, steering her toward the kitchen. They passed through the living room and the library.
    “This is a beautiful house,” Tiff said. “Is this the cabinetwork your father did?”
    “It is, all of it. The doors, too.”
    In the kitchen, she dropped her bags. He deposited her on the sofa tucked into a corner and took a green-tinted bottle of vodka from the freezer.
    “What’s that?” she asked.
    “A specialty of the house,” Stone replied. He found two thin crystal martini glasses, poured the liquid into each and returned the bottle to the freezer. He handed her a glass. “Try that.”
    Tiff sipped and smiled. “That’s wonderful! What is it?”
    “It’s a very special vodka gimlet.”
    “Sounds powerful. What’s in it?”
    “Not as powerful as a martini. It’s three parts of vodka and one part of Rose’s Sweetened Lime Juice. What’s special about it is the intensity. Normally, you’d pour the ingredients into a cocktail shaker, shake it until your fingers freeze to the shaker, then strain it into a glass. What I do is take a full fifth of vodka, pour six ounces of it into another bottle and replace that with the lime juice. Then I put it into the freezer for a few hours. That way, when it’s poured, it’s colder than ice, because the vodka doesn’t freeze, and it hasn’t been watered down by the melting ice in the shaker.”
    “Heaven.” She sighed, sinking into the sofa.
    “Did you have a good day?”
    “Spectacular. I found an apartment.”
    “Tell me about it.”
    “It’s what you New Yorkers call a classic six, on Park Avenue in the sixties, and it’s already been renovated, so it’s in move-in condition. It had been sold, and the owners moved out, but the co-op board turned down the buyer, so it’s sitting there, empty, ready for me.”
    “Sounds great, but how long will it take for you to get board approval?”
    “The board meets at the end of next week, so if I can get all the paperwork together in a hurry, I’ll know then. My real-estate agent says the board will like the idea of a U.S. Attorney living in the building, so there shouldn’t be a problem.”
    “Co-op boards can be tricky,” Stone said.
    “I’ll get the AG to write a letter of recommendation—the president, if I have to. Say, can I borrow