“Evan Keating.” Stone spelled it for him.
“I’m going to need to do some work on the computer,” Bob said.
“I’ll call you back.”
“Today?”
“Give me a few minutes.”
“Okay, thanks, Bob.” Stone hung up.
1 2 2
L o i t e r i n g w i t h I n t e n t
“What else can we do?” he asked Dino.
“I think this is our best bet,” Dino replied. “Let’s wait to hear from Bob, before we start patrolling the streets, which seems like our last remaining option.”
Stone’s cell phone buzzed. “Hello?”
“It’s Manny. Did you send the money?”
“I haven’t had a chance yet, Manny, but I’ll get it to FedEx before the day is out, okay?”
“Terrific. When I get it, I’ll give you what I’ve got.”
“You’ve got something on Keating?”
“Yes, I have.”
“Come on, Manny, you’ll get the money.”
“This is business, Barrington. Why should I trust you?”
“Jesus Christ.”
“I wouldn’t trust him, either. Tell you what: You go send the money, then give me the tracking number, and I’ll check it out. If it’s on the way, I’ll tell you what I’ve got.”
Stone sighed again. “All right, Manny.” He hung up. Tommy spoke up. “Is this the same Manny White from the Nineteenth?”
“I’m afraid so.”
“He was always a pain in the ass. Sit tight; I’ll be right back.”
Tommy got up from the table and disappeared through a door. A moment later he was back with a FedEx envelope and waybill. “Here you go; they’ll call it in from the offi ce.”
Stone put five hundreds in the envelope, addressed it and made a note of the tracking number, then Tommy took it to the offi ce. Stone called Manny White.
“Good day, Manny White Investigations,” Manny said.
“Isn’t this still the private line?” Stone asked.
“Yes. Who’s this?”
“It’s Stone Barrington.”
1 2 3