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“Yes, when I arrived.”

“I hope your room is comfortable.”

“It is, indeed, though it smells a little of paint.”

“We apologize,” Callie said. “I understand you and Stone know each other.”

“We’re old friends,” Arrington said.

“Yes,” Stone echoed, wanting somehow to guide this conversation, if he could. “And how did you manage to get Arrington here so quickly, Callie?”

“We sent the airplane for her this morning,” Callie said sweetly.

“Twenty-four hours ago,” Arrington said, “who knew I’d be in Palm Beach tonight?”

“Yes,” Stone replied, casting a sharp glance at Callie. “Who knew?”

Callie suddenly seemed flustered. “Please excuse me, I have to welcome somebody,” she said. She had not even glanced at the door, but she made off in that direction.

“And how do you know Thad Shames?” Stone asked.

“Vance and I met him in Los Angeles early last year. Vance was an early investor in some of his companies. And how do you happen to be here, Stone?”

“I’ve been doing some work for Thad, which involved coming to Palm Beach.”

“What sort of work?”

“I’m afraid it’s confidential.”

“Show me around the house, will you?” she said.

“We’ll explore together,” Stone said. “This is the first time I’ve been inside, except for the central hallway. I’m staying on the yacht, out back.”

“Then follow me,” Arrington said, taking his hand and starting out. She led him among handsome couples of various ages, beautifully dressed and coiffed. They walked across the central hall and into a large, two-story library, stocked with matched sets of books, some of them, apparently, quite old.

They found the dining room, which had been set up for a buffet, then climbed the central stairs to the second floor.

“Where are we going?” Stone asked.

“Just exploring,” Arrington replied, towing him along. “That must be the master suite,” she said, pointing at a large set of doors. They walked on farther. “Let’s see what a bedroom looks like,” she said, suddenly opening a door, tugging him inside and closing it behind her.

They were in a large, sumptuously furnished room with a huge, canopied bed, elaborate draperies and antique furniture. Stone saw a stack of luggage in a corner, and as they walked toward the windows, he saw the initials ACC stamped on the cases. “This is your room?” he asked.

“Oh, look, there’s the yacht,” she said, standing at the window. The moon was coming up and a streak of its light fell on the vessel. In the foreground, the gardens were lit with Japanese lanterns. She turned, took Stone’s face in her hands and kissed him again.

Stone felt her against him, the familiar curves of her body, the cool tips of her fingers against his skin, and he responded appropriately.

“Oh, I can feel you,” she whispered, moving her hips forward. She tugged at his bow tie, and it came undone.

Suddenly, Stone was uncomfortable, and he held her away. “I can’t do this,” he said, “not with the way things have been between us.”

“I’d like for things to be as they were,” she said.

“A lot has happened since then.”

“Most of it to me,” she said.

“I’m aware of that. But every time something happens to you, it seems to happen to me, too.”

“Poor baby,” she cooed.

“Which brings up the matter of Peter,” Stone said.

She stepped back from him. “Do we have to talk about that now?”

“Now is as good a time as any, and better than most.”

“Why do you have to be certain who Peter’s father is?” she asked. “I’m not sure I want to know.”

“I don’t understand that, but I’m sure you can understand why I want to know,” Stone said. “If you put your mind to it.”

She turned away from him. “Men!”

“Do you find it so odd that a man would want to know if he had a son?”

“I don’t want to talk about it anymore,” she said. “Let’s go back downstairs.” She headed for the door.

Stone followed close behind her. Two couples were coming down the hall toward them, apparently touring the house. They smiled knowingly at Stone as they passed. What the hell was that about? he wondered, then he realized that his tie was untied and hurriedly retied it. He ran down the stairs after Arrington, caught up with her on the landing overlooking the living room and stopped her.

“Listen to me,” he said. “You and I cannot have a normal relationship until we settle the question of Peter.”

“Why can’t you just leave it alone?” she said. “I really don’t want to know.”

“Then you don’t want to know me.” Stone replied.

She ran down the stairs, and he followed more slowly. People were looking up at them, among the crowd, Callie. Stone let Arrington make her way across the room, and he turned toward the bar and ordered another drink.

A moment later, Callie appeared at his side. “Oh, your tie is all mussed,” she said. “Let me fix it for you.” She tugged at the bow until she was satisfied. “Well, it didn’t take the two of you long, did it?”

“What?” Stone asked, distracted, then he caught her meaning. “Oh, don’t be ridiculous.”

“Am I being ridiculous?” she asked. “A woman scorned, I suppose.”

“Scorned? You invited her here, didn’t you? Not Thad.”

“I suggested it to Thad,” she said. “I wanted to know where I stood.”

“If you wanted to know where you stood, you could have simply asked me,” Stone said, trying to keep the anger from his voice. “There was no need to send a jet to Virginia and haul her down here; no need to pull the scabs off old wounds.”

“I’m sorry,” Callie said sheepishly.

“You should be. You shouldn’t interfere in other people’s lives, especially when you don’t have a clue what’s going on.”

“Listen, Stone,” Callie said, now sounding angry herself. “I don’t know about you, but I don’t sleep casually with people, especially when there’s something else going on in their lives. If you and Arrington are in love with each other, I’d rather know it now, not later.”

“I didn’t bring her down here,” Stone said, “you did. I’d be grateful if you’d stop meddling in my life.” He set down his drink, turned and walked out of the room. He made his way past couples in the gardens, then to the yacht, where he made himself a large drink at the bar in the saloon and sat on the afterdeck, drinking it, watching the moonlight on the water, trying to banish the thought of both Arrington and Callie from his mind.

Later, the music stopped and the sound of slamming car doors and diminishing voices told him the party was ending. He knew he couldn’t sleep for a while, so he made himself another drink.

Then Juanito was at his elbow with a cordless phone. “Mr. Barrington, Mr. Thad is calling for you,” he said.

Stone took the phone. “Hello?”

“Stone, please come over to Liz’s house right away,” Shames said. “I’ve already called the police.”

Stone started to ask why, but Shames had already hung up.

14

Stone drove quickly, but not too quickly, through the streets of Palm Beach. It was well after midnight, now, and traffic was light, but he did not wish to attract the attention of a traffic cop at this moment. He swung into West Indies Drive and, shortly, into the driveway of Liz’s house. One of Thad Shames’s Mercedes convertibles was parked outside and, beside it, what was obviously an unmarked police car. The front door of the house stood wide open.

Stone walked quickly inside and looked around. No one was in sight. “Hello!” he called out.

“In here,” came a man’s voice through the living room and to his left. Stone followed the sound and arrived in the study. Shames and Liz, who appeared to be unharmed, and a man in a police officer’s uniform with stars on the shoulders stood in the center of the room, which was a mess. All the pictures on the mantel had been swept onto the floor, a large mirror on one wall had been shattered and much of the furniture had been overturned, reducing some small porcelain figurines to shards.