Sex, Lies & Serious Money

by Stuart Woods

  “We need to figure out a way to hit him again,” Curly said.

  “Listen, we both did very well out of our little caper. Let’s cool it now. Anyway, the guy is getting to be family, and I don’t want to foul my own nest.”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll foul it for you, and you won’t need to lift a hand,” Curly said.

  “Listen to me, Curly,” Butch said, closing the magazine. “We’re going to leave the guy alone. In fact, there is no more ‘we.’ I don’t want to hear from you again.”

  “You don’t want me for an enemy, Butch.”

  “Curly, I don’t want you for anything. We each made a hundred and fifty grand, and that had better keep you out of my hair.”

  “Don’t threaten me.”

  “Don’t make it necessary.” Butch got up and left Curly’s apartment and went back to his own. He was liking his new life, but he knew Curly would eventually find a way to screw it up for him; the guy was like that.

  —

  LAURENCE AND THERESA were walking up Canyon Road, where most of Santa Fe’s art galleries were housed.

  “I like it here,” Laurence said. “It’s a beautiful town in a beautiful part of the country. Would you like to live here?”

  “Well, sure,” she said, “but please remember, I still have a job, and I’m going to have to get back to it soon.”

  “Why don’t you leave the job and just hang with me?”

  “Because I don’t know you well enough, nor you me, to make a long-term commitment.”

  “Think of it as an experiment, not a commitment—that can come later, if it’s what we want.”

  “Look, I’ve got more than a job, I’ve got a career, and I’ve invested a fair number of years building it. What would I do if you tired of me and just took off?”

  “More likely, the other way around, but I’ll tell you what. If I should do that—or if you want to leave—I’ll give you a million dollars to tide you over while you’re thinking about a new career.”

  “A pre-breakup agreement?”

  “Even better, I’ll give you the million right now, and you can take off anytime you get tired of life with me.”

  “I’d feel like a whore.”

  “That’s nonsense. Have you felt that way at any time since we met?”

  “Well, no, but I haven’t been paid.”

  He turned her around and used her back for a desk, then tore out the check and handed it to her. “Here. Cash it, if and when you need it. Think of it as insurance.”

  She looked at the check. “All right, I’ll think of it that way, and I’ll quit my job, but you have to quit your job, too. I’m not going to be an English schoolmaster’s lady friend.”

  He laughed. “I’ll write to the headmaster today. I’m sure he’s heard all about me by now, anyway, and he probably wouldn’t want me back—too much notoriety for Eton.”

  “Then you’ve got a deal,” she said, tucking the check into her bra. “And if you want to look at some houses, it’s okay with me.”

  He stopped her in front of a real estate office and looked at the pictures in the window. “Pick something,” he said, “and we’ll make a start.”

  21

  THEY HAD HARDLY sat down in the realtor’s office when Laurence’s cell phone rang. He excused himself and walked outside to answer it. “Hello?”

  “It’s Marge,” she said.

  He didn’t like the sound of her voice. “Yes, what is it?”

  “Someone has been in the apartment again,” she said, “and it’s not the hotel maids.”

  “Did they steal anything?”

  “Not that I can tell, but there are little traces around the place that tell me someone was here. I checked, and the maids haven’t been inside since I left work yesterday.”

  “We haven’t been using the security system, have we?”

  “No, we’ve been waiting for the company to come in and activate it.”

  “All right, activate it, and have cameras installed—the best and least conspicuous available, at least two in each room. I want wall-to-wall coverage everywhere.”

  “Right away,” she said. “Any idea when you’re coming home?”

  “Not yet—at least a few days. I’d like the cameras operating by the time I get there, and I want to be able to check them on my iPhone. I’ve read that can be done.”

  “I’m on it,” Marge said.

  Laurence hung up and went back inside. “I’m sorry,” he said. “Where were we?”

  “Theresa has been giving me a list of what she wants in a house. Now tell me what you want,” the agent, whose name was Diana, said.

  “A view, new enough not to require remodeling, a study where I can read and work, enough room to swing a cat.”

  Theresa laughed. “That’s Britspeak for pretty roomy.”

  “Let’s start at the top,” Diana said. “Something very good has just come on the market. It’s a new house built by a woman who is widely regarded as the best builder in town, named Sharon Woods. She bought the property, designed the house, built it, had the landscaping done, and furnished it. It’s a large, two-bedroom house with a two-bedroom guesthouse and a sitting room. It has every modern convenience, and it’s in one of the best neighborhoods. Would you like to see it?”

  He looked askance at Theresa, who nodded. “Now would be a good time,” he said.

  “Then let’s go.” She drove them to a spot overlooking the city, with views for a hundred miles. The house was beautifully designed, finely crafted, and handsomely, completely furnished, including linens and kitchen and dining things. The study was lined with bookcases, and there was a second, smaller one. The guesthouse was cozy, and the landscaping was wonderful. There was a pool, a hot tub, and a three-car garage. Diana gave them the price.

  “Any wiggle room there?” Laurence asked.

  “No, because you’re the first to see it. If you want to avoid a bidding war, you should consider committing now.”

  He took Theresa aside. “What do you think?”

  “I don’t think ‘ideal’ is too strong a word.”

  He went back to Diana and took out his checkbook. “To whom would you like the check made?”

  “To Woods Design and Construction.”

  He wrote out the check and handed it to her, but he kept hold of a corner. “The owner will be Theresa Crane, and everything about the sale will be held in the strictest confidence, especially my name.”

  “Of course, Mr. Beresford.”

  “Oh, and we’d like to move in today.”

  “Let me make a call,” she said. She walked out onto a terrace and spent a minute on the phone, then returned. “Done, if your check is good.”

  “Have your bank call my bank now. My name isn’t Beresford. The real one is on the check.”

  “Let’s go back to my office and sign a contract,” Diana said.

  —

  LESS THAN AN HOUR LATER, they had a completed sales contract, with closing to come a few days later. Diana handed Theresa the keys. “Congratulations on your new home,” she said. She took a map from a drawer and made some marks on it with a highlighter. “This is how to get back to it. I’ll have the utilities and phone put in your name immediately. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

  “We have only to do some grocery shopping and pick up our luggage at a friend’s,” Laurence said. “Oh, and I suppose we’ll need a car. What kind would you like, Theresa?”

  “Is there a Mercedes dealer here?”

  “Yes,” Diana said. She made more marks on the map. “A ten-minute drive, and if you’ll give me a grocery list, I’ll take care of that.”

  —

  THEY ARRIVED BACK at the house later in a new Mercedes station wagon, to find the refrigerator stocked and a bottle of Dom Pérignon on ice, with a note from Sh
aron Woods, welcoming them and saying that she would visit them to see if they wanted any alterations to the house.

  They took the champagne and glasses onto the terrace and sipped as they watched the day laten and the sunset wax and wane.

  “That was breathtaking,” Theresa said. “I think I’m going to like living with you.”

  “I’m going to like it, too,” he said.

  22

  STONE WAS AT HIS DESK the following morning when Joan buzzed. “Laurence Hayward on line one.”

  Stone pressed the button. “Good morning, Laurence. I understand you’ve approved the recommendation of Strategic Services.”

  “I have, Stone, and thank you for your help. They should be working on the installation now. I called to tell you that I’ve bought another house.”

  Stone chuckled. “And where is the new one?”

  “In Santa Fe, New Mexico. It’s brand-new and completely furnished. We spent our first night in it last night.”

  “Congratulations. When is your closing?”

  “Next week.”

  “I’ll let Herb Fisher know. By the way, I’m coming to Santa Fe tomorrow to spend a few days with friends, on the way to L.A. I’d like very much for you to meet them.”

  “Wonderful! And you must come for dinner here during your stay.”

  “I accept. I’ll be landing tomorrow afternoon, and I’ll call you to make arrangements.”

  “How about dinner here the night after? Bring your friends.”

  “Sounds good. Their names are Ed and Susannah Eagle.”

  “Theresa and I look forward to seeing you.” They hung up.

  —

  “STONE IS ARRIVING in Santa Fe tomorrow to stay with some friends,” Laurence said to Theresa. “I think it’s time for our first dinner party. Perhaps Diana will recommend a caterer?”

  “I’ll call Becky Gardner, she’ll know someone. May I invite her and Ted?”

  “Of course.” Laurence became absorbed in his laptop.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m looking for a piano dealer in Santa Fe.”

  She handed him a newspaper, the Santa Fe New Mexican. “This arrived on the doorstep this morning. Check the classifieds.”

  “Good idea. I guess I’d better stock the bar, too, if we’re having guests.”

  —

  STONE LANDED at mid-afternoon in Santa Fe, and as he taxied to the ramp, he saw a familiar Range Rover waiting there, one belonging to Gala Wilde, Ed Eagle’s sister-in-law, with whom he had parted company a few weeks ago. He felt an unexpected pang.

  Gala greeted him as he descended the boarding steps. “Ed and Susannah asked me to meet you and bring you to them. I hope you don’t mind.”

  Stone kissed her on the cheek. “You’re the most attractive taxi driver I could have wished for.”

  He loaded his luggage into the car and buckled in.

  “They’ve also asked me to dinner tonight,” Gala said.

  “What a good idea!”

  “Am I forgiven, then?”

  “I think I’ll wait for a more opportune moment to forgive you.”

  She laughed. “Just name it.”

  —

  AT DINNER THAT evening, Stone said, “I’ve a friend and client who’s just moved into a new house in Santa Fe, and he and his girlfriend have invited us all to dinner tomorrow evening. Is that convenient for you?”

  “That means I won’t have to assemble dinner tomorrow night,” Susannah said, “so it’s convenient.”

  “Who are these folks?” Ed asked.

  “He’s a very wealthy young Brit with a beautiful girlfriend. He’s recently bought a spectacular New York apartment, and now a house here, new and furnished.”

  “I’ll bet I know the house,” Susannah said. “It’s got to be Sharon Woods’s new place. She’s a local builder and she also builds spec houses, and she has a new one just finished.”

  “That would explain how he bought the house and occupied it in the same day,” Stone said.

  “He’s a fast mover,” Ed said.

  “He certainly is. He bought the New York apartment after seeing photographs of it in the Times. He also flies the same airplane I do. Just got his type rating in Wichita.”

  “What does he do in England?”

  “He is employed as a schoolmaster at Eton College.”

  “They must pay very well.”

  “I’m afraid that’s all I can tell you—attorney/client privilege. However, if you have a copy of People magazine . . .”

  “As a matter of fact, we do,” Susannah said. “There’s an article in it about my new picture.” They moved into the library for drinks, and Susannah found the magazine. “Goodness, that is a spectacular apartment! And he won the lottery! How brilliant of him!” The magazine was handed around. “And he teaches at Eton,” she said. “That makes him sound stuffy.”

  “Not in the least,” Stone said. “He’s bright and charming, and so is his girl. I introduced them, sort of. She’s a personal shopper at Ralph Lauren, and he needed a wardrobe compatible with his new status.”

  “So she dressed him, then undressed him,” Susannah said. “How romantic!”

  —

  LAURENCE RETURNED to the house to find Theresa at work arranging flowers.

  “What, you came back without a piano strapped to your back?”

  “I found a Steinway Model A at a church, advertised in the paper. It was their rehearsal piano for the choir, and they’ve bought a concert grand to replace it. It’s being delivered and tuned tomorrow morning.”

  “And the booze?”

  “Should be here before sundown. The flowers look lovely.”

  “Thank you. I like a lot of flowers in a house.”

  “So do I, but I don’t expect you’re going to be able to grow a lot of them here.”

  “It’s all right, there’s a flower shop.”

  The doorbell rang, and a man with a hand truck brought in a dozen boxes.

  “So much booze?”

  “Most of it is wine. We have a wine cooler in the kitchen, you know.”

  “I hadn’t spotted that. I guess we’ll be discovering things in the house all the time. I spoke with the caterers and ordered our dinner for tomorrow night.”

  “Stone rang and said there’d be four of them.”

  “So with Becky and Ted, that’s eight. Perfect.”

  “You like giving dinner parties, do you?”

  “I do.”

  “Good, since I prefer that to restaurants, though I’ve nothing against restaurants.”

  “Then we’ll have to make more friends, if we’re going to give dinner parties.”

  “That suits me just fine.”

  “When do you think we’ll be able to go back to New York?”

  “Are you in a hurry to get back?”

  “I’d hate to resign over the phone.”

  “I wrote the headmaster today.”

  “Then I guess I can resign over the phone.”

  23

  STONE WAS RIDING SHOTGUN in Ed Eagle’s car, as they turned off Tano Road onto Tano Norte. They were almost to Hayward’s front gate when he saw a car parked in a road opposite with its headlights off. “Ed, can you stop for a minute?”

  “Sure,” Ed replied, braking.

  “Do you have a flashlight in the car?”

  “Glove compartment.”

  Stone found a small SureFire light there; he got out of the car and approached the parked vehicle, switching on the flashlight. The bright beam revealed a man behind the wheel, looking startled. “Good evening,” Stone said, loudly enough to be heard.

  The car started and sped past him, turning toward Tano Road and disappearing in a cloud of dust. Stone went back to the Eagles’ car and got i
n.

  “What was that about?” Ed asked, continuing toward the gate.

  “I’m not sure, but my best guess is that somebody from some newspaper or magazine has sniffed out Laurence Hayward in his new home.”

  “Either that, or somebody is casing it for a burglary.”

  Stone laughed. “Trust a criminal attorney to think of criminal intent.”

  Ed parked the car; they rang the front bell, were admitted by Laurence and Theresa, and introductions were made.

  “What a beautiful place,” Gala said.

  “I’m afraid we can’t take any credit for that,” Theresa replied. “Only the flowers were added by us.”

  “Sharon Woods always does a beautiful job. Have you met her yet?”

  “She’s dropping by tomorrow.”

  They went into the living room, and a waiter took their drink orders. Laurence sat down next to Stone. “Herb Fisher called, and our closing is set for next week.”

  “You certainly found a great place. How much land is there?”

  “About twelve acres—enough to keep the neighbors at bay.”

  Stone lowered his voice. “Someone is already paying attention to you.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “There was a car parked across the road from the house as we drove in, with a man behind the wheel, lights off. I approached him, and he started up and accelerated in a hurry.”

  “Have they found me already?”

  “Ed suspects a more criminal intent, maybe a burglary. I’d be careful while you’re here.”

  “What are the gun laws like in New Mexico?”

  “Lenient, I would guess. We’re in the West, after all.”

  “Perhaps I’d better do some shopping.”

  “Laurence, have you any experience with firearms?”

  “Quite a lot with shotguns and birds.”

  “If you buy a handgun, you’re putting yourself and your fortune at risk.”

  “How’s that?”

  “In the past I’ve known two men who shot intruders in their homes, one of them fatally.”

  “Didn’t they have that right?”

  “They did, legally, but the civil lawsuits went on for years. One had to sell his house to pay the legal fees and settlement costs. The other, stuck with the huge medical bills of the intruder, has paid out nearly a million dollars, only some of it covered by his household insurance.”