“It’s Caroline. Where are you?”

“Just arrived home from dinner with a buddy. You want to know what I’m wearing?”

“I don’t care what you’re wearing, I just want to tear it off.”

“Will right now do?”

“Right now is good. I’m on my way.” She hung up.

—

She was there in ten minutes, and it took them another three to make it upstairs and into bed. “I knew you’d be ready,” she said, biting him on a nipple. “I’m beginning to think you’re a sex addict, too.”

“I think I’m well on the road,” he replied, between deep breaths.

“I’ll do everything I can to help.”

“You’re helping right now,” he said, turning her over onto her belly.

—

When they had exhausted each other Stone remembered to thank her for the roses.

“You’re welcome,” she said. “I didn’t want you to think I wasn’t grateful.”

“You’re the most grateful woman I’ve ever known,” Stone said. “By the way, we have to take some precautions.”

“Nope, I had an IUD installed years ago.”

“That’s not what I mean. I have a client who is in a business that some mob guys don’t want him to be in. They pushed him, and on his behalf, I pushed back, a little harder than I intended.”

“Do I want to know the details of all this?”

“You do not—you may not. The upshot is, it’s their turn to push again, and I’ll be going armed for a while.”

“Armed with what?”

“A very nice little .45.”

“What do you mean by ‘little’?”

“Nineteen ounces.”

“You mean you had a thirty-nine-ounce piece whittled down?”

“No, it was custom-made.”

“Let me see it.”

“What do you know about guns?”

“Everything I need to know. I had a daddy who loved them.”

Stone got out of bed, went to his safe, got out the little Terry Tussey .45, popped the magazine, locked the slide open, and took it back to her.

She examined it carefully, unlocked the slide, and aimed it at something. “It’s beautiful,” she said, “but with a barrel that short I wouldn’t expect to hit anything much beyond my reach.”

“With a little practice, you’d improve. I’m okay with it up to about fifteen feet if I have time to aim, eight or ten feet if I don’t.”

“Are these the kind of guys who are going to wait around for you to aim?”

“I don’t think they’ll want to kill me—that’s a lot of trouble, and a murder creates a lot of unnecessary risk. More likely they’ll just want to show me the business end of a baseball bat.”

She ran her finger down his nose. “Keep them away from this,” she said. “I like it.” She reached lower. “And especially away from this.”

“You don’t think a broken nose would add character to my bland face?”

“It’s got enough character. Why are you telling me about this?”

“Because I don’t want you to get in the middle.”

“Sometimes I like it in the middle.”

“Not that kind of middle. I don’t want you to get between me and some thug.”

“You mean it would hurt you more than it would hurt me?”

“Exactly.”

“How do you propose we deal with this?”

“Well, I don’t think they could get into the house, and certainly not into this room.”

“So we just send out for pizza and Chinese?”

“For a while. And when you come over I’ll send Fred for you.”

“He looks a little small for that kind of job,” she said.

“Don’t underestimate him. He’s a former Royal Marine commando and a dead shot, and he has a carry license. The car is armored, too.”

“What are you doing with an armored car?”

“It was accidental,” Stone said. “A while back I made a little money, and I thought I’d buy a Mercedes. I went into the dealership and they had a lightly armored E55 on the floor. A guy in some sort of rough business had ordered it, but it arrived a few days late, so I bought it from his widow. Later on I totaled it, and a friend in the security business had an armored Bentley in their garage and gave me a deal on it.”

“What will it stop?”

“Small-arms fire, through the glass or the doors, and a not-too-big bomb underneath.”

“That sounds very comforting. I have a range license, so I can get away with carrying in my purse.”

“What do you carry?”

“A little Colt .380.”

“The Government model?”

“Yep.”

“Very nice. I have one of those, too. Remember, you can’t carry it loaded, and the magazine can’t be in the same bag as the gun.”

“Got it.”

“I forgot to ask: Did you eat?”

“How soon you forget!”

Caroline stayed for breakfast and one more roll in the hay, then she showered and took off for work.

When Stone got to his desk he buzzed Joan.

“Yep?”

“Please send two dozen yellow roses to Caroline Woodhouse at Kelly & Kelly advertising, no card necessary.”

“Got it. Also, Brad Kelly is holding on line one.”

Stone punched the button. “Morning, Brad.”

“Morning, Stone. I’ve just messengered over a contract between us and Pepe Perado. It covers the items we discussed when you were both here, plus a lot of nitpicks your associate at Woodman & Weld threw at us. Will you have a look at it and let me know if it’s okay?”

“Sure, Brad.”

“By the way, the first thing you asked me when you called was if we had a beer account. We didn’t, but we did have a beer distribution account. That won’t be a problem, because we resigned it about ten minutes ago, since one clause of the contract seems to bar us from having such clients other than Perado.”

“If I were your attorney, I’d have advised you not to resign the other account until you had a signed contract with Pepe.”

“Well, to tell you the truth, we’re not unhappy to be unloading them.”

“Out of curiosity, who are they?”

“They’re called Bowsprit Beverages, and one of the partners has been nothing but a royal pain in the ass since we signed them two years ago.”

Stone shrank a little inside. “Let me hazard a wild guess: The partner in question is one Gino Parisi?”

“Right, and we’ve heard they’re mobbed up, too, and we don’t go for that.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard that, too. Tell me, did you tell Parisi who your new client will be?”

“They wanted to know, and I didn’t see any reason not to tell them. We’d already shaken Pepe’s hand on the deal.”

“Thanks, Brad, I’ll go over the contract as soon as I get it.”

“We’re ready to sign, unless there are problems.”

“I’m seeing Pepe later this morning, and I’ll run it by him.” They both hung up, and Stone called Dino.

“Bacchetti.”

“Morning.”

“You sound tired. Another athletic night?”

“Funny you should mention that. I may have to hire some help.”

Dino thought that was very funny. “That’s what Viv said.”

“You told her about this?”

“You’ve never been married long enough to know this, pal, but fully joined couples tell each other everything.”

“Everything?”

“Well, almost everything. Is bragging about your sex life all you called about?”

“I wasn’t bragging—you asked.”

“Never mind. Why did you really call?”

“My problem with Parisi and Brubeck just got worse.”

“What, did you shoot one of them?”

“No, but I lost them an advertising agency.”

“How did you do that?”

“Pepe hired Kelly & Kelly, and there was a conflict, so the agency dumped Bowsprit. They seemed delighted to do it, because they hate Parisi.”