23
THE FOLLOWING DAY STONE WENT to the stage door of the Del Wood Theater, gave his name to the watchman, introducing himself as Carrie’s attorney, and went and stood in the wings.
Carrie was in the middle of what was apparently her big dance number, and Stone was impressed. Paco, from the night before, was her dance partner, and he was trying gamely to keep up and almost making it. The number ended, and the choreographer called Paco over for a chat.
Carrie grabbed a towel and patted her face. When she saw Stone in the wings she came over. “Visitors aren’t allowed at rehearsals,” she said. “Wait for me in my dressing room.” She pointed the way and then walked back onto the stage.
Stone found a door with a star tacked to it and let himself in. It was fairly large, with a big dressing table, a long couch, and a couple of chairs, as well as an en suite bathroom. The decor wasn’t much, he thought, but there were a couple of paint cans and some wallpaper rolls in a corner, so he reckoned that would change soon. He settled on the sofa and leafed through a Variety from the coffee table.
Carrie came in after a few minutes and slammed the door behind her.
Stone got up to greet her.
“You were very mean to me last night,” she said, pouting.
“You were behaving badly,” he said, “so I had to be mean. You could have caused a great deal of damage.”
“So she really is a police detective?”
“She is.”
“That’s what Tom, her driver, said.”
“Tom is a cop, too. He’s Mitzi’s partner.”
She pushed him onto the sofa and sat beside him. “All right, I want to hear the whole story.”
“I’ll give you the Reader’s Digest version,” he said, and he managed it in a few sentences. “And you should stay away from Derek Sharpe,” he told her.
“I can see that,” she said. “Anyway, I hate his stuff. I don’t know why anyone would buy it.”
“You have excellent taste.”
“Yes, I do,” she said, getting up and stripping off her sweater and tights. “I’m going to take a shower,” she said. “You want to buy me dinner later?”
“Sure.”
“Can we go to Elaine’s and see Dino?”
“I’m fairly certain he’ll be there; he always is.”
She dropped her clothes into a hamper and took off her bra and panties.
Stone was impressed all over again. She had a dancer’s body: slim with long muscles and high breasts. She went into the bathroom and turned on the shower without closing the door. Stone was happy to watch. When she came out, drying herself with a towel, she gave him a long look, then locked the door and sat on his lap, facing him.
“Your lips become fuller when you’re turned on,” Stone said. “That’s some kisser you’ve got there.”
She kissed him. “That’s what the lips are for,” she said, then slid to the floor, unzipped his fly, and showed him how else the kisser could be used.
Afterward, Stone fell asleep, waiting for her to get dressed.
DINO DIDN’T SEEM surprised to see them. Stone ordered them drinks.
“Dino,” Carrie said, “you were very naughty last night not to tell me about Mitzi being a cop and all.”
“You aren’t supposed to know about that,” Dino said, shooting Stone a sharp glance.
“She turned up at Derek Sharpe’s studio, unannounced,” Stone said in his defense.
“Do I have to tell you everything I do?” Carrie asked, sipping her drink.
“You have to tell me when you decide to go to Atlanta,” Stone said.
“I’ll do that,” she said.
“You didn’t do that,” he replied.
Her jaw dropped. “How did you find out?”
“Why, it was all over ‘Page Six’ in the Post,” Stone said. “ ‘Crazy Dancer/Actress to Visit Her Atlanta Ex-husband, Who Wants to Kill Her.’ Didn’t you see it?”
She laughed. “It was not.”
“Tell me,” Stone said, “what was the point of our pulling out all the stops to keep you safe if you’re going to go running into his arms at the first opportunity?”
“It’s not like that,” she said.
“What is it like?”
“A mutual friend has offered to mediate the settlement,” Carrie said.
“You told me you already had a settlement.”
“There are a few loose ends,” she said. “Dear Max has bounced back financially with the help of a Saudi prince, who has a house in Atlanta. I’m told he’s actually better off now than he was before.”
“I’m told that, too,” Stone said. “So you’re going to hold him up for more?”
“For more cash. He was strapped a year ago, so I took not very liquid assets.”
“There’s nothing like cash,” Stone said. “It makes a wonderful motive for murder. What makes you so sure Max won’t be meeting your flight and taking you for a little ride?”
“I know what would make you feel better about this,” Carrie said. “Come with me.”
Stone was brought up short. He had no desire to go to Atlanta, but having made a fuss about it, he could hardly say no. “All right,” he said.
“I’ll book you on the same flight,” she said. “And I’ve already booked a suite at the Ritz-Carlton Buckhead.”
“Who else is going to be at this meeting?” Stone asked.
“Max’s lawyer and our mutual friend, a lawyer named Ed Garland.”
“I know Ed,” Stone said. “Had you planned to do this without an attorney of your own?”
“I was going to ask you,” she said, “and I would have last night, if you hadn’t marched me out of Derek Sharpe’s studio.”
“I’m sorry I had to do that,” Stone said.
“I’m sorry you had to do that, too,” she replied. “I apologize for my behavior.”
“No need to apologize.”
Dino spoke up. “Does anybody want to order dinner? Or do you two want to get a room?”
“Dinner now, room later,” Carrie said, shooting Stone a leer. “You owe me.” She picked up a menu.
“I do, and I’ll pay,” Stone promised.