by Stuart Woods
"Take it off, and I'll send it over to wardrobe for you; they'll get the stain out."
"Thanks," Stone said. He went into the bedroom, took off the jacket, and put the Walther and its holster into a drawer, then he took the jacket back to Louise. "Have we heard anything from Dolce Bianchi?"
"Not a peep," she replied.
"Good." He went into the study and called Dino.
"Hello."
"Hi."
Dino spoke softly, as if he didn't want to be overheard. "Let's meet for lunch," he whispered.
"Okay, come over here, and we'll go to the studio commissary. Borrow a car from Manolo; he'll give you directions."
"In an hour?"
"Good." They both hung up. Stone buzzed Louise and asked her to arrange a studio pass for Dino.
Dino was introduced to Louise, then Stone showed him around the bungalow.
"These movie stars live pretty well, don't they?" he said.
"Better than cops and lawyers."
"Better than anybody. That guest house we're staying in is nicer than any home I've ever had."
"The pleasures of money."
"I'm hungry; let's eat. We can talk over lunch."
Stone drove him slowly through the studio streets, pointing out the exterior street set and the sound stages.
"It's like a city, isn't it?" Dino said.
"It has just about everything a city has, except crime."
"Yeah, that happens in Bel-Air and Beverly Hills."
Stone parked outside the commissary, which was a brick building with a walled garden. Stone showed the hostess his VIP studio pass, and they were given a table outside, surrounded by recognizable faces.
Dino took it all in, pointing out a movie star or two, then they ordered lunch.
"All right, what happened after I left last night?" Stone asked.
"Not much. What could compare to the scene just before you left?"
"What was Dolce doing there?"
"Mary Ann invited her, with Arrington's permission. It was an innocent thing on both their parts, I guess.".
"How innocent could it be? Mary Ann was in Venice; she knew everything."
"She thought Arrington knew everything, too. You didn't tell her?"
"I hadn't found the right moment," Stone said.
"She was pretty upset after you left, even though she tried not to show it. I tried to smooth things over, but she wouldn't talk about you."
"I've never been double-teamed like that," Stone said.
"I felt sorry for you, but there was nothing I could do. You're going to have to find some way to square things with Arrington."
"As far as I'm concerned, the ball's in her court. I was ambushed, and I didn't like it."
"That wasn't her intention, Stone."
"Maybe not, but the result was the same."
"Fortunately, Dolce left when you did. Did you go together?"
"No, I outran her."
"You can't run forever."
"What else can I do? You can't talk to her like a normal human being. I've got Marc Blumberg working on an Italian divorce."
"I have a feeling this is not going to be as easy as divorce."
"Funny, I have the same feeling," Stone replied.
When they got back to the bungalow, Louise came into the study. "Lou Regenstein's secretary called. Lou would like you to come to an impromptu dinner party he's giving for some friends at his house tonight. He says to bring somebody, if you'd like. It's at seven-thirty." She laid the address on his desk.
"Let me make a call," Stone said. He found the number for Charlene's RV and dialed it.
"Hey, Sugar," she said. "How you feeling?"
"I think I've recovered my health. Would you like to go to a dinner party tonight?"
"Sure, but I won't be done here until six-thirty or seven."
"Have you got something that you could wear? We could leave from here."
"I've got just the thing," she said. "I wore it in a scene this morning."
"Pick you up at the RV about seven-fifteen?"
"Seven-fifteenish."
"See you then." He hung up. "Call Lou's secretary and tell her I'd love to come, and I'm bringing a date."
Louise went back to her desk to make the call.
"Who's the date?" Dino asked.
"Charlene Joiner."
Dino's eyebrows went up. "You kidding me?"
"Nope," Stone replied smugly. "She's a new friend."
"One of these days, you're going to screw yourself right into the ground," Dino said.
Chapter 47
Charlene kept Stone waiting for only fifteen minutes. When she emerged from her dressing room she was wearing flowing cream-colored silk pants and a filmy patterned blouse. Stone noticed in a nanosecond that the blouse was so sheer that nipples were readily in view.
"So that's what L.A. women wear to dinner parties." He laughed, kissing her.
"They do if they have the right equipment," Charlene replied, wrapping a light cashmere stole around her shoulders.
"You're going to be very popular tonight," Stone said.
"With the men, anyway. Whose house are we going to?"
"It's a surprise."
"I love a surprise," she said, settling into the car. "This is Vance's car, isn't it?"
"It is. I borrowed it."
"Such an incestuous town," she said.
With Charlene's help he found the house, or rather, estate, in Holmby Hills. Stone was beginning to believe that everybody in L.A.
lived on four or five acres. He stopped in the circular driveway, and a valet took the car. As they approached the house, the front door was opened by a butler, and they stepped into a large foyer. From across the living room beyond, Lou Regenstein headed toward them.
"Oh, my God," Charlene said under her breath.
"What's wrong?"
"I'll tell you later," she whispered.
"Stone!" Lou cried, his hand out. "And Charlene!" He looked a little panicky. "What a surprise!"
"For me too, Lou," she replied, accepting a peck on the cheek. She whipped off the stole, handed it to the butler, and swept into the room at Stone's side, her back arched, breasts held high.
Lou led them toward a tall, handsome woman of about fifty, who was talking to another couple. "Livia," he said. "You haven't met Stone."
"How do you do?" the woman said, taking Stone's hand. Then she turned toward Charlene, and her eyes narrowed.
"And of course, you know Charlene Joiner," Lou said.
"Of course," she replied icily, then turned and walked away.
There was something going on here, Stone thought, and he wasn't sure he wanted to know what it was.
Lou quickly turned to the couple Livia had been talking to. "And this is Lansing Drake and his wife, Christina."
Stone took the man's hand. "It's Dr. Drake, isn't it?"
"Yes, and your name?"
"I'm sorry," Lou said, "this is Stone Barrington, a friend of Vance's and Arrington's."
For a split second, the doctor looked as though he had been struck across the face, then he recovered. "Nice to meet you," he mumbled, then turned to Charlene. "And of course, I know you," he said, chuckling, his eyes pointing below her shoulders.
"Of course you do," Charlene said.
Lou's attention was drawn to the front door, where other guests were arriving. "The bar is over there," he said to Stone, pointing across the room. "Please excuse me."
Dr. Drake and his wife had suddenly engaged someone else in conversation, so Stone lead Charlene toward the bar.
"Pill pusher to the stars," Charlene said.
"Yes, I've heard of him; he's Arrington's doctor. What were you talking about at the front door?"
"If you hadn't been surprising me, I'd have warned you," she said.
"Warned me about what?"
"Livia; she hates me with a vengeance. Poor Lou is going to get it between the shoulder blades tonight."
"Who is she
?"
"Lou's wife."
"I didn't know he even had a wife. Nobody's ever mentioned her to me.
"Nobody ever does, least of all Lou. They've had an arm's-length marriage for twenty years. Word has it they occupy different wings of this house. They're only seen together when he entertains here, or at industry events, like the Oscars."
"And why does she hate you?"
"You don't want to know."
"You're probably right." They reached the bar; Charlene had a San Pellegrino, and Stone had his usual bourbon.
"Did you see the look on the doctor's face when he met you?" Charlene asked.
"Yes; I thought he was going to break and run for a minute."
"This is going to be a very weird evening," Charlene said.
Stone looked toward the front door and nearly choked on his drink. "You don't know how weird," he said.
Charlene followed his gaze. "That, I suppose, is the fabled Dolce."
"It is," Stone replied, "and the man with her is her father, Eduardo."
Charlene linked her arm in Stone's. "Well, come on, then," she said. "I want to be introduced."
There was nothing else for it, Stone thought; may as well brazen it out. He walked toward the two, wishing to God he were on another continent. "Good evening, Eduardo," he said. "Hello, Dolce."
Eduardo took his hand, but not before a shocked glance at Char-lene's highly visible breasts. "Stone," he managed to say.
Dolce said nothing, but shot a look at Charlene that would have set a lesser woman on fire.
"Eduardo, this is Charlene Joiner. Charlene, this is Eduardo Bianchi and his daughter, Dolce."
"I'm so pleased to meet you both," Charlene said, offering them a broad smile, in addition to everything else.
"Enchanted," Eduardo said stiffly.
"Oh, yes," Dolce said dryly, looking Charlene up and down. "Enchanted."
"Charlene is one of Lou's biggest stars," Stone said, because he could not think of anything else to say.
"I never go to the pictures," Eduardo said, "but I can certainly believe you are a star."
"Oh, Eduardo, you're sweet," Charlene giggled. She turned and snaked an arm through his. "Come on, and I'll get you a drink." She led him away, leaving Stone suddenly with Dolce, the very last place he wanted to be.
"Alone at last," Dolce said archly.
"Dolce, I…"
"Are you fucking her?"
"Now, listen. I…"
"Of course you are. That's what you do best, isn't it?"
"Will you listen…"
"I'm sure she's very good in the rack."
"Dolce…"
"Is she, Stone? Does she give good head?"
"For Christ's sake, keep your voice…"
"I'll bet she's spent more time on her knees than Esther Williams spent in the pool."
"Dolce, if you don't…"
"Oh, good, a martini," Dolce said, as a waiter approached with a tray. She took one, tossed it into Stone's face, returned the glass to the tray, and walked away.
The room was suddenly silent. Then Charlene's laugh cut through the quiet. "I don't believe you," she was saying to Eduardo, who, uncharacteristically, seemed to be laughing, too.
"Dinner is served!" the butler called out, and the guests began filtering toward the dining room.
Charlene came, took Stone by the arm, and turned him toward dinner.
"Let's get out of here," Stone said, dabbing at his face with a handkerchief.
"Are you kidding?" Charlene laughed, dragging him toward the dining room. "I wouldn't miss this dinner for anything!"
Chapter 48
There were SIXTEEN at dinner. Stone found himself near the center of the long, narrow table, on his hostess's left. Directly across from him was Dr. Lansing Drake, who had landed with Dolce on his right and Charlene on his left. Most men, Stone reflected, would have been delighted to find themselves bracketed by two such beautiful women, but Dr. Drake looked decidedly uncomfortable, and when Stone nodded to him, he looked at his plate, then up and down the table, as if seeking an escape route.
The woman to Stone's left seemed to be in her eighties and deaf, while the handsome and chilly Livia, to Stone's right, seemed disinclined to acknowledge his presence. Dolce, across the table, shot him long, hostile looks whenever his eyes wandered her way. Only Charlene seemed happy. She had drawn Eduardo, to her left, and between her large eyes and her beautiful breasts, she seemed to have him mesmerized.
"How long have you known that woman?" a deep, whiskey-scarred voice asked.
Stone jerked to attention. Livia had spoken to him. "Oh, we met only recently. This is the first time we've been out." That was, strictly speaking, the truth. They had done all sorts of things at home, but they had not been out.
"I would be careful, if I were you," Livia said. "She probably has a social disease."
"I beg your pardon?" Stone said, astonished that a hostess would say such a thing to her guest about his companion.
"More than likely, a fatal social disease," Livia said, ignoring his reaction.
"Mrs. Regenstein…"
"I detest that name; call me Livia."
"You detest your husbands name?"
"And my husband, as well."
"Then why are you married to him?"
"I find it convenient; I have for more than twenty years. But enough about me; let's talk about you. What did you do to little Miss Bianchi that would invite a drink in the face?"
"My private life," Stone said, "unlike yours, is private."
"You're going to be a bore, aren't you?" she asked.
"You will probably think so."
"Who are you, anyway?"
"My name is Stone Barrington."
"Ah, yes, Louis has mentioned you. You're that disreputable lawyer from New York who was screwing Arrington Calder just before she married Vance, aren't you?"
Stone looked across the table, caught Charlene's eye and jerked his head toward the door. Then he turned to Livia Regenstein. "Goodbye, you miserable bitch," he said quietly, then he got up and walked out of the dining room. He waited a moment for Charlene to catch up, then led her toward the front door.
While Charlene was waiting for her wrap, and the valet was bringing Stone's car, Lou Regenstein caught up with them. "What's wrong, Stone? Why are you leaving?"
"Lou, I must apologize; I'm afraid I don't have a scorecard for the games that are played in this town. I'm sorry if I made your wife and your guests uncomfortable."
"It's I who should apologize," Lou said. "Livia can be hard to take."
"I'll see you soon," Stone said. They shook hands, and he and Charlene left the house.
Stone put the top down. "I need some air," he said, turning down the street. "I hope it won't disturb your hair."
"Don't worry about it," Charlene replied. "Well, that was quite an evening. What were you and Livia talking about, dare I ask?"
"You, mostly," Stone said.
"Oh. I may as well tell you. For a short time Livia and I shared a lover."
"Not Lou, I hope."
"No, someone much younger. Shortly after I came into the picture, the man stopped seeing Livia. Livia has been livid ever since."
"This is my fault; I should have told you where we were having dinner."
"Listen, Sugar, don't worry about it; I didn't have half as bad a time as you."
"What were you and Eduardo talking about?"
"The movie business, mostly."
"He seemed fascinated."
"I'm sure he was. He spoke well of you, too."
"Did he?"
"He said you were a gentleman."
"And that was just before I caused a scene by walking out of an elegant dinner party."
"I'm sure his opinion of you hasn't changed."
"You know, until this week, I had never in my life walked out of any dinner party, and now, in the space of three days, I've walked out of two."
"Are you upset?"
&nb
sp; "Not really; I must be getting used to it."
"I guess folks out here aren't working with quite the same social graces as their counterparts in New York."
Stone reached Sunset and turned toward the studio. "How'd you happen to come out here?"
"You want the fan magazine version, or the truth?"
"The truth will do nicely."
"Hang a left here," she said. "There's a nice little restaurant down the street, and we haven't had dinner."
Stone followed directions. "No, we haven't."
The restaurant was not all that small, but it was very elegant, and the headwaiter, spotting Charlene, had them at a special table in seconds. They ordered drinks and dinner.
"Okay, now tell me your story," he said.
"It's a strange one," she said. "I'm from Meriwether County, Georgia, near a little town called Delano."
"That's where Betty Southard, Vance's secretary, is from."
"True, but she was older than I, so we didn't really know each other. Anyway, I was pretty much a country girl, and I had this boyfriend who murdered a girl, in Greenville, the county seat. The court appointed a lawyer named Will Lee to defend my boyfriend."
"Wait a minute, is this the Senator from Georgia? The presidential candidate?"
"Yes, but not at that time. Old Senator Carr, who Will worked for, had a stroke, and Will ran for his seat, but the judge wouldn't let him out of defending Larry, my boyfriend, even though it was during the campaign. As you might imagine, the trial attracted a lot of press coverage."
"I think I remember this vaguely," Stone said, "but not the outcome."
"Larry was convicted and sentenced to death. A tabloid paid me for my story, and all of a sudden, Hollywood was sniffing around. Next thing I knew I was out here, with a part in a movie. Then there was another part and another, and the rest is pulp fiction."
"Amazing. Was the boyfriend executed?"
She shook her head. "I went to see the governor of Georgia and personally, ah, interceded on his behalf. His sentence was commuted to life without parole. We still correspond."
"Was he guilty?"
"Oh, yes."
"That's the damndest story I ever heard."
"There's more.
"Tell me."
"Will Lee and I had a little one-time encounter that became a side issue in the presidential race."