Stone Barrington 06-11

your shower? I’ve been apartment-hunting and shopping all day, and I haven’t had time to change.”
    “Sure, follow me.” He led her up the back stairs into his bedroom, carrying her shopping bags. “There’s a robe on the back of the bathroom door,” he said.
    “I won’t be long,” she replied, setting her gimlet on his desk.
    Stone went back to the kitchen and began organizing dinner.
    SOON, SHE CAME DOWN the stairs, her hair wet, wearing tan leather pants and a tight sweater.

    “New clothes?” he asked.
    “Fresh from Madison Avenue’s finest shops.”
    He poured her another gimlet. “I’m going to start dinner, now,” he said. “I’m making risotto, so I may need some help stirring.”
    He emptied a packet of arborio rice into a copper pan, with half a stick of butter and some olive oil, and cooked it until it was glossy, then began adding hot chicken stock to the pan, a little at a time. Halfway through the process, he tossed a pair of thick veal chops onto the grill of the Viking range and let them brown for a few minutes on each side.
    When the risotto had absorbed all the chicken stock and the rice was tender, he added half a cup of crème fraîche and a considerable amount of freshly grated Parmigiano Reggiano cheese and stirred them in, then set the pan on a trivet on the kitchen dining table, forked the veal chops on two plates and added haricots verts that he had cooked earlier. He opened a bottle of Far Niente cabernet and held a chair for her to sit down.
    “It looks wonderful,” she said.
    “We’ll see.”
    She tasted the risotto. “Marvelous!”
    They dined slowly, enjoying the food and wine. When they had finished, he took away the dishes and served them each a tiny slice of Italian cheesecake from a deli he knew.
    He made espresso and poured them each a brandy.
    “I feel so much better,” she said. “You heard anything from Rodney Peeples?”
    That brought Stone up short.
    “We going to talk shop?”
    “Just for a minute.”
    “This is only the second time I’ve heard that name—both from you. I am not acquainted with the gentleman.”
    “And he is not your client?”

    “I would have to be acquainted with him for him to be my client.”
    “Good point.”
    “But, as long as we’re talking shop, could I ask a favor of you?”
    “Maybe.”
    “Your office handles cases with the Treasury Department, doesn’t it?”
    “Yes.”
    “You know anybody in the Secret Service you could have a word with?”
    “Probably.”
    Stone dug into a pocket and came out with Billy Bob’s two-dollar bill. “Could you ask someone there to run the serial number on this bill and see if anything pops up?”
    She took the bill and looked at it. “Why?”
    “Just a favor.”
    “I don’t know about that.”
    Stone took back the bill. “Never mind.”
    “That was a very odd request. Do you think the bill might have been stolen?”
    “No, I’m just curious to see what I can learn about it. You don’t see a lot of two-dollar bills.”
    “I’m going to have to have a better explanation than that if you want me to have it run.”
    “I’m afraid I don’t have a better explanation than that,” Stone said. “Let’s just forget it.”
    She grabbed the bill back. “Oh, all right,” she said. “I’ll call in a favor and have it run on an informal basis.”
    “That would be great.”
    “You’re sure you don’t know Rodney Peeples?”
    “Will you stop with that name, Tiff? I’ve told you repeatedly that I don’t.”
    “Okay, okay.”

    “How long will it take to run the two-dollar bill?”
    “I’ll make the call on Monday; a day or two, I guess. This isn’t going to get me into trouble, is it?”
    “If I thought it were, I wouldn’t ask you to run it. It’s just that I’m curious, and I don’t have any contacts in the Secret Service. I’m only looking for information; I’m not asking anybody to intercede on behalf of a client.”
    “You have contacts in other federal agencies?”
    “One or two,” Stone said. “I recently had dinner with the United States Attorney for New York.”
    She laughed. “Yes, you did, didn’t you? Now what?”
    He leaned over and kissed her. “I’m open to suggestions.”
    “So am I,” she said, kissing him back.

13
    STONE WAS WAKENED by a ringing cell phone, and he knew it wasn’t his. He opened an eye and found it filled with a naked breast, a pleasing sight. He reached across Tiff and grabbed her handbag from her