“Joan, call my insurance agent and confirm that my car is insured for any driver. If it’s not, add Holly Barker as an insured driver, and hurry.”
“Will do.”
Stone tried to think what he could do about this, and he came up with a quick answer: absolutely nothing. This hick-town cop was loose in Manhattan with his seventy-thousand-dollar car, and involved in a chase with an FBI-protected murderer at the front end of things. He buzzed Joan again.
“Yes, Stone?”
“Did you get that insurance thing done?”
“I have them on the other line now.”
“Make sure it’s effective immediately.”
It was after five when Holly returned to Stone’s house.
“Hello?” she called up the stairs.
“Come on up,” Stone called back.
Holly came into his bedroom, shucking off her coat. Daisy padded along beside her, then hopped up onto the bed with Stone, who had been reading the Times.
“Hello, Daisy,” Stone said, half expecting her to reply. She gave him a big kiss, then lay down and snuggled against him.
“She likes you,” Holly said.
“I’m relieved to hear it.” To his surprise, she started undoing buttons.
“Mind if I use your shower?” she asked, continuing to undress. “The water pressure isn’t too great upstairs.”
“Sure, go ahead,” Stone replied. “In New York, we have these water tanks on the roof, and sometimes the upper floors don’t get the best pressure.” As she continued to undress he reminded himself not to get the water pressure problem fixed.
“Water tanks? No kidding?”
“You can go up and take a look,” he said, “but I wouldn’t go like that.” She was down to a bra and panties, or more accurately, some sort of semi-thong thing. “You’d have the neighbors climbing out windows.”
“Aren’t you sweet,” she said, flashing him a big smile. She turned and went into the bathroom, reaching behind her for the bra hook while displaying the backside of the semi-thong thing and a fine pair of buns. She left the door open, but he couldn’t see her. He heard the shower turn on, though.
“How was your day?” she called from the bathroom.
“Hairy,” he replied. “A very strange morning in court.”
“You can tell me about it later,” she said.
He heard the shower door open and close.
Five minutes later, she came out, loosely dressed in his terry robe, toweling her hair. She hopped onto the bed and turned toward him, close. Daisy was between them. “So, tell me about your morning in court.”
“I had this extremely annoying client, Herbie Fisher, with whom I’ve dealt before. He was charged with—”
” The one who kicked the cop in the balls?”
“Yes, and the cop was there with his three big brothers. Their sister was prosecuting.”
“Stacked deck, huh?”
“You might say that.”
“How many years did he get?”