Worst Fears Realized

others you may think of,” Stone said.
    “I appreciate the offer.”
    “But,” Stone said, “if I start reading in the papers that I’m a suspect, I’ll know it came from Deacon, and I’ll go straight to the old man. I’ve known him a long time.” This was true, up to a point.
    “I don’t think that will be necessary,” Brougham said. “But, you understand, if Deacon starts poking holes in your story, we’ll be talking again.”
    “There aren’t any holes in my story,” Stone said, “because it’s the truth.”
    Dinner arrived, saving everyone the embarrassment of continuing the conversation. Dana Brougham changed the subject.
    “Aren’t you the painter who’s about to have a show at the Bergman Gallery?” she asked Sarah.
    “Yes, that’s right,” Sarah replied. “The opening is next week; may I send you an invitation?”
    Dana produced a card from her purse. “I’ve seen some of your early things, and I’d love to see your more recent work. Can you give me a hint?”
    “It’s a Tuscan show,” Sarah replied. “I’ve lived there for the past six years, so it’s a combination of landscapes, still lifes, and portraits of people in the Chianti district.”
    “Oh, I love that part of Italy.”
    A waiter came and whispered something in Dino’s ear, and he left the table. Stone watched himtake a phone call, but his face betrayed nothing. He came back and sat down.
    Everyone looked at him.
    “That was the precinct,” Dino said. “We had a suspect, but his alibi is holding.”
    “I’m sorry to hear it,” Brougham said. “Who is it?”
    “A guy named Mitteldorfer; Stone and I nailed him twelve years ago for the murder of his wife.”
    “What made you suspect him?”
    “Stone and I saw the murder of the woman who lived behind his house. The perp looked the way Mitteldorfer looked twelve years ago. But he doesn’t look that way anymore.”
    “Peculiar,” Brougham said.
    “We thought so, too. We’ve been looking for a relative who might have been involved, but there isn’t anybody—not so far, anyway. The precinct was just confirming the questioning of some peripheral people. Mitteldorfer appears to be clean.”
    “Is he out of prison?”
    “No, but he’s up for parole soon.”
    “You want me to toss a grenade into his hearing?”
    Dino shook his head. “I don’t like the guy, but I don’t have a thing on him. If he gets out and then we get some evidence, it’ll be simple enough to get his parole revoked.”
    Brougham put down his fork. “You think he might get out, then start killing again?”
    Dino shrugged. “No way to predict that. He adds up as a one-time perp—killed his wife in the heat of the moment when he found out she was running around on him. She seems to have been his only enemy.”
    “Except you and Stone,” Brougham said.

19
    STONE WAS DRESSING THE FOLLOWINGmorning when Sarah stuck her head out of the bathroom. “Why don’t you take me to the country this weekend?”
    “What country?” Stone asked.
    “Any country,” she replied. “You forget that I’m English—an English rose, as it were.” She batted her eyes. “And I need frequent communing with trees and grass to keep my corpuscles together. A nice country inn does wonders for them, too.”
    “I’ll rent a car.”
    “Stone, you told me you just got this big fee, right.”
    “Yes.”
    “Buya car.”
    Stone shrugged. “Okay.”
    “A nice one, please.”
    “Yes, ma’am.”

    “What a good boy are you.”
    “I am, am I not?”
    “Didn’t I just say so?”
    She came out of the bathroom naked, and Stone stopped dressing, ogling her shamelessly.
    “None of that, now,” she said. “I’ve got to get to the gallery to start hanging pictures, and your two very nice policemen are waiting in the garage. Well, one nice policeman.”
    Stone started dressing again. “Yeah, Kelly’s not exactly good company, is he?”
    “He’s a proper little shit,” she replied, slipping into jeans and a sweater, no bra.
    “You want me to ask Dino for another cop?”
    “Don’t make waves,” she said. “Dino’s already doing us a very big favor. I can live with Kelly.”
    Stone put his arms around her. “You can live with me,” he said.
    She grabbed his wrists and held his arms at his sides. “We’ll talk about that when I don’thave to live with you anymore,” she said, “and on some nice, neutral ground, that doesn’t have a bed so close at hand.”
    “Okay,” he replied,