Stone Barrington 06-11

sugar?”
    “No, I haven’t. Tell me, was this group of ladies with you on the day Vance was shot?”
    “Was it a Saturday? Yes, it was. I remember now. Sure, they were all there that day; we have a regular Saturday thing at my house.”
    “How late?”
    “Later than usual, as I recall. Everybody’s mostly gone by five or six, but a couple of people stayed right through dinner. I think it’s cleansing to have dinner without a man occasionally.”
    “What time did Vanessa leave?”
    “She didn’t stay for dinner. I remember, they left, because Beverly had a dinner party to go to that night, and she had to get home and change. I don’t know what Vanessa was doing.”
    “They left together?”
    “Yes, they came and left in Vanessa’s car.”
    “That’s promising,” Stone said, half to himself.
    “Promising? How do you mean?”
    “Sorry. I was thinking aloud.”
    Charlene, having eaten a third of her lunch, grabbed her wineglass and half reclined on the sofa, resting her feet in Stone’s lap.
    The view was transfixing, Stone thought, trying to concentrate on his lobster instead. “Are you and Beverly close at all?” he asked.
    “Not very. Like I said, she’s not my favorite person.”
    “I understand that Beverly is … talkative.”
    “Well, that’s an understatement! We had to listen to every detail of every affair she had.”
    “Did she ever sleep with Vance?”
    “Sugar, if Vance had ever had a social disease, half of Beverly Hills would have come down with it.”
    “I mean, did she ever talk about having an affair with him?”
    “She tried, but she was late to the party; the rest of us had already had Vance.”
    “Vanessa, too?”
    “Sure, and before she was divorced. Vance didn’t discriminate against married women.”
    “Who is Beverly married to?”
    “A producer on the lot here: Gordon Walters. That’s her entree around town; if she were ever divorced, she’d never get asked to dinner. Gordy’s a sweetheart, but Beverly isn’t all that popular. Everybody knows you can’t tell her anything. It would be like putting it on a loudspeaker at Spago.”
    “Charlene, I wonder if you’d do a favor for me.”
    “Sugar,” she said, poking him in the crotch with a toe. “I’ve been trying .”
    “Another kind of favor.”
    “Sure, if I can.”
    “Have lunch with Beverly Walters; see if you can find out what happened after she and Vanessa left your house that Saturday.”
    “Why do you want to know?”
    “You can’t share this with the ladies,” Stone said.
    She made a little cross with a long fingernail on her left breast.
    “Beverly is a witness against Arrington, in this shooting thing. She’s testified that Arrington told her she wanted to kill Vance. Arrington was joking, of course.”
    “Of course,” Charlene said dryly.
    “It’s possible that Beverly might have been at Vance’s house that evening, and that she might have seen something. I can’t let Arrington go into court without knowing what Beverly saw. Do you think you could worm that out of her?”
    “Shoot, Stone, I could worm Beverly’s genetic code out of her, if she knew it.”
    “Vanessa said something about this to me, and I wouldn’t like for Beverly to know that. Vanessa felt she was breaking a confidence, just by mentioning the possibility.”
    “That sounds like Vanessa,” Charlene said, looking misty for a moment. “She’d be true blue, even to Beverly.”
    “When do you think you could see her?”
    “She’ll be over at the house on Saturday, with the others, I’m sure; we’ll have some commiserating to do over Vanessa.”
    “I’d appreciate any help you could give me.”
    Charlene smiled a small smile. “How much would you appreciate it?”
    “A lot,” Stone said.
    “I don’t believe you,” Charlene replied. “It’s Arrington, isn’t it? She’s why I can’t get you in the sack.”
    “We’re old and good friends,” Stone said.
    Charlene laughed. “Well, at least you didn’t say you were just good friends. I don’t blame you, Stone; she’s perfectly gorgeous. I’d hop into bed with her in a minute.”
    Stone laughed, put down his fork, and stood up. “I’ll tell her you said so, if the occasion should ever arise. I’ve got to get going. Thanks for the lunch, and, especially, for your help.”
    Charlene put down her wineglass, arose, and came toward Stone. She snaked one arm around his neck, hooked one leg around his and kissed him, long and deep.
    Stone