Stone Barrington 06-11

against Arrington. The phone buzzed, and Stone picked it up. “Betty?”
    “Aloha, stranger,” she said.
    “Hope I didn’t get you up.”
    “You know I’m an early riser,” she said. “Wish you were here to get my heart started in the morning.”
    “A pleasant thought, but I’m still needed here. You enjoying yourself?”
    “So much that I’m thinking of making a permanent move here. Will you come see me?”
    “When you least expect it.”
    “Why’d you call? Surely not just to wake me up.”
    “I wanted to ask you something.”
    “Go ahead.”
    “Beverly Walters. Did she and Vance ever have a thing?”
    “Why do you ask?”
    “Because she’s the key prosecution witness against Arrington, and I need to know as much as possible about her.”
    “Vance didn’t keep much from me, but he never mentioned Beverly in those terms. Anyway, he was pretty tight with her husband, Gordon.”
    “If he was sleeping with her, where do you think it might have happened?”
    “In his RV, more than likely, but just about any place that was convenient.”
    “Did he ever bring her to the bungalow?”
    “Not when I was around, but he didn’t do that with his women, except maybe after hours. A few mornings there were signs in the bungalow that someone had been there.”
    “When was the last time you can remember?”
    “No more than a day or two before he was shot.”
    “Did you ever find anything in the bungalow belonging to a woman?”
    “Once or twice—a lipstick or a scarf. When I did, I just left it on Vance’s desk and said nothing about it.”
    “Anything that you could identify as belonging to Walters?”
    “Come to think of it, the lipstick I found was one I’ve seen her wear, but I suppose that’s a pretty tenuous connection, isn’t it?”
    “Yes, it is. Nothing else?”
    “Nothing I can think of. I’ll call you if I think of anything else.”
    “Thanks, I’d appreciate that. It could be important.”
    “How’s Arrington bearing up?”
    “I don’t know, to tell you the truth. She’s not communicating with me at the moment.”
    “Uh-oh; I don’t want to know about that.”
    “Good, because I’m not going to tell you about it. What do you have planned for the day?”
    “The beach, of course. Can’t you hear the surf over the phone?”
    “You know, I think I can.”
    “That’s all you need to know about my day.”
    “You take care, then.”
    “Bye-bye.”
    Stone hung up. That had been a disappointment. He called Dino.
    “Yes?”
    “It’s me. How’s it going?”
    “I’m having a lovely time sitting around the pool, while Mary Ann and Arrington talk and giggle.”
    “Any thaw there?”
    “A little, maybe; I’ll have to pump Mary Ann. My guess is, though, if you want her to talk to you, you’re going to have to make the first move.”
    “What did I do?”
    “Nothing, nothing, just got married. That seems to have disappointed her.”
    “But …”
    “Listen, Stone, you don’t have to convince me. She’s behaved badly and won’t admit it. I’m just saying that you’re going to have to make the first move, whether it’s logical or not. It’s how women work.”
    “Tell me about it.”
    “I shouldn’t have to. What’s up with you? Anything happening?”
    “Marc Blumberg has filed for a motion to dismiss the charges against Arrington, so he’ll probably turn up over there pretty soon to prep her for her testimony.”
    “What are the chances of shutting this thing down early?”
    “In my view? Two: slim and very slim.”
    “I guess you’ve got to make the effort.”
    “You bet. I don’t want to hang around L.A. for another six months waiting for this to come to trial. I’m getting homesick for a little New York grit in my teeth, you know?”
    “Yeah? Funny, I’m getting to like it here. Think the LAPD could use another detective?”
    “You wouldn’t last a month out here, Dino. It’s all too easy; you’re a New Yorker; you like things tough.”
    “Call Arrington and make nice, then maybe we can all have dinner together.”
    “Without Dolce?”
    “Without Mrs. Barrington.”
    “Don’t say that.”
    “Call her.”
    “Okay; see you later.” Stone hung up and stared at the phone. He might as well get it over with.

Fifty-two

    M ANOLO ANSWERED THE PHONE. “GOOD MORNING, Manolo,” Stone said. “It’s Stone Barrington. May I speak with Mrs. Calder?”
    “Good morning, Mr. Barrington; it’s good to hear from you. I’ll see if she’s