Stone Barrington 27 - Doing Hard Time

dinner. He waved to them. “Your tire will get in on the eleven-o’clock bus tomorrow morning,” he said to them, “and I’ll get it right on your vehicle.”
    He sat down on a stool at the counter. “Evening, Sally,” he said.
    “Evening, Billy.”
    “You got any meat loaf left?”
    “Sure, I do.”
    “Any bourbon left in that bottle?”
    “Enough for two,” she said, filling a pair of glasses with ice and pouring some. They both took a swig, and then Sally served both of them some meat loaf.
    The three young people walked over with some cash for their check and left it on the counter. “Thanks, Sally,” Peter said.
    “You kids may as well sleep late,” Billy said. “I’ll have your car ready by noon.”
    “Okay, thanks,” Peter said. “Good night.”
    “Good night, then,” Billy said, and the three of them left for their rooms.
    “Who was in the Navigator?” Sally asked.
    “A couple of guys. I filled them up and they drove on. I tried to sell them one of your rooms, but they seemed to be in a hurry.”

Stone came down before dinner to find Dino and Mike already having a drink. He sat down, and the butler brought him a Knob Creek on the rocks.
    “We’re having a guest for dinner,” he said to his friends.
    “Anybody we know?” Dino asked.
    “No, someone newly arrived from London. Her name is Emma Tweed, a fashion designer. She’s staying in the old guesthouse behind the bushes, and I found her in our pool this afternoon.”
    “Typical,” Dino said to Mike. “He finds them everywhere.”
    The doorbell rang, and the butler ushered in Emma Tweed. She was wearing a multicolored silk dress with a low neckline and a short skirt. Stone made the introductions, and the butler brought her a martini. “I had hoped that my son, his girl, and Dino’s son would join us this evening, but they’re somewhere in New Mexico with a flat tire.”
    “I’m sorry to miss them,” Emma said. “I have a twenty-three-year-old daughter who has left school. She arrives tomorrow.”
    “My son, Ben, will be delighted to hear that,” Dino said.
    “Beautiful dress,” Stone said. “One of yours?”
    “Indeed,” Emma said. “I hardly ever wear anything else.” Her blonde hair was swept straight back and fell nearly to her shoulders; she had a light tan and seemed to be wearing hardly any makeup.
    “Were you a competitive swimmer in your school days?” Stone asked.
    “I was. I’m surprised you could tell.”
    “Something about your proportions,” he replied.
    “Ah, yes, my shoulders. I can’t hide them.”
    “And you shouldn’t.”
    “Well, gentlemen, I know why Mr. Barrington is here, what’s your excuse for getting away from winter in New York?”
    “Getting away from winter in New York,” Mike said. “Who needs an excuse?”
    “Mike is also on the board of the hotel,” Stone said. “He also runs the world’s second-largest security company.”
    “And you, Mr. Bacchetti?”
    “Please, let’s do this on a first-name basis,” Stone said. “Dino is shy, so I’ll tell you that he is the chief of detectives for the New York City Police Department.”
    “I feel safer already,” Emma said, “in safe and well-qualified hands.”
    “What is your daughter’s name?” Dino asked.
    “Tessa. How tall is your son?”
    “Six feet.”
    “Is he intimidated by tall women? Tessa is six-two.”
    “Ben is not intimidated by anything—certainly not tall women. How does Tessa feel about men shorter than she is?”
    “She has learned not to use height as a measurement of character,” Emma said. “After a few mistakes. I think she actually prefers looking down at men.”
    “Then they should get along well.”
    “Why are the children in New Mexico?”
    “They insisted on driving from New Haven, Connecticut, where they have all three just graduated from Yale, to their new work in L.A.”
    “Which is?”
    “They are a team: Peter, my son, writes and directs films. Ben produces them, and Hattie, Peter’s girl, writes their scores.”
    “Such creativity!”
    “It spills out of them. Has Tessa chosen a career?”
    “It has been her dream since childhood to be an actress. She’s fresh out of RADA—the Royal Academy of Dramatic Arts.”
    “And she’s seeking her fortune in L.A.?”
    “She’s having a look at it. She’s never spent a winter in a warm place, and I’m afraid she may like it here too much.”
    “Everybody falls for the weather,” Stone said. “It’s a pity