Willie tossed him his car keys. “It’s in the garage,” he said. “I filled it up with the premium stuff.”
“Thanks,” Stone said.
“Listen,” Willie said, “I don’t know if we shouldn’t be watching her for a while longer.”
“Why do you say that? She’s feeling safe now.”
“Just a feeling,” Willie said. “That and a phone conversation I overheard.”
“What was that about?”
“Well, there’s a pair of restrooms in the wings of the theater-ladies’ and gents’-and there’s some sort of vent, and you can hear the girls talking sometimes.”
“You been eavesdropping, Willie?”
“Look, I was having a splash, and I heard Carrie on the phone.”
“Yes?”
“She was talking to Delta Air Lines.”
“Yes?”
“She was making a reservation to Atlanta this weekend.”
“ Atlanta?”
“I kid you not,” Willie said, “and I don’t know why the fuck she would want to be in the same city as that ex-husband of hers.”
“Neither do I,” Stone said. “I mean, she lived there a long time, and I suppose she could have some business there.”
“On a weekend?”
“You have a point,” Stone admitted.
“Well, let us know if we can be of further service,” Willie said, and, with a little wave, he left.
Stone was still thinking about this when Joan buzzed him. “Brian Doyle on one.”
“Hello, Brian.”
“Morning. I found Mitzi a car: a Bentley, would you believe?”
“How did you come to confiscate a Bentley?”
“Drug bust, what else? It’s an Arnage, a few years old, but it looks good.”
“I guess it would,” Stone said.
“Listen, Mitzi’s new friend Rita found out there’s a party at Derek Sharpe’s studio tonight. She wangled Mitzi an invitation, but she doesn’t want to go with her, figuring that her connection to Parsons might affect the way Sharpe sees Mitzi. Will you take her to the party?”
“Sure, I guess so.”
“Great. A Bentley, chauffeured by a cop, will pick you up at six thirty.”
“Sounds good.”
“Some guys have all the luck.” Brian hung up.