44
 
Stone managed to sleep late on Sunday morning. He had eggs Benedict in bed and read both the New York Times and Los Angeles Times. It was nearly noon when the bedside phone rang.
“Stone? It’s Rick Barron.”
“Good morning, Rick. How is everything?”
“I’m not sure,” Rick replied.
“What’s making you unsure?”
“Something’s wrong with Jim Long.”
“Rick, he’s suffered a knife wound and lost a kidney; of course something’s wrong with him.”
“No, I mean about his shares in Centurion.”
“Rick, you can rest easy about those shares; they’re bought and paid for, and I have the stock certificate.”
“Yes, I know that, but I just had a call from the attorney for Jennifer Harris’s estate, and he told me he’s had an offer for her shares.”
“So Prince is still trying to get them.”
“No, the offer is not from Prince; he wouldn’t tell me who it was, but he did tell me it was for four thousand dollars a share.”
“Four thousand!”
“That’s what he said. He’s waiting for an answer from her trustees, and he wanted to give us a chance to match the offer.”
“Then that means that Prince is going to show up on Tuesday and make that offer to all the stockholders.”
“Stone, I told you, the offer isn’t from Prince.”
“Who else could it be?”
“I don’t have the slightest idea, and I’m very worried about it.”
“It doesn’t matter, Rick; we have enough shares on our side to get along without Jennifer Harris’s.”
“There’s something else, Stone.”
Stone felt a trickle of apprehension run down his bowels. “What else, Rick.”
“The attorney intimated that Jim Long’s shares might be in play as well.”
“That’s not possible, and Long knows it,” Stone said. “At least, his attorney, Harvey Stein, does.”
“I hope you’re right, but I just have the feeling that everything is about to go wrong.”
“Then there’s the shareholder who promised to vote with us.”
“Yes, you wouldn’t tell me his name. Maybe you’d better call him and have a chat.”
“I can’t; it’s Sunday, and I don’t have his home number.”
“Is his office number at Centurion?”
“Well, yes.”
“Then I probably have his home number in my book.”
“But if I ask you for that, I’d be violating his confidence, and I can’t call him and ask him for his permission.”
“Stone, there’s nothing wrong with your asking me for somebody’s home number.”
“Tell you what, Rick, can you give me the home numbers of Jim Long, Charlene Joiner, and Jack Schmeltzer? This has nothing to do with what we were talking about.”
“Sure, Stone.” Rick read out the three numbers, and Stone dutifully wrote them down.
“Do you want me to call anybody for you?” Rick asked.
“No, please, don’t. I want to talk to the shareholder and to Harvey Stein. Then I’ll get back to you.”
“I’m at the studio,” Rick said, “on stage four.”
“What are you doing at the studio on a Sunday morning?”
“I’m arranging a little reception for our shareholders,” Rick said. “You’ll see on Tuesday. I’ve got to run.” He hung up.
Stone called Jack Schmeltzer’s home and got an answering machine. “Hello, Jack. It’s Stone Barrington. I’d be grateful if you’d give me a call at the first opportunity.” He left his cell number. Then he called Harvey Stein’s cell, got voice mail, and left the same message. He hung up. He didn’t know what else to do.
 
 
 
Stone and Dino had a late lunch on the patio, and late in the afternoon the house phone rang.
“Hello?”
“It’s Arrington. We’ll be landing at Santa Monica in an hour,” she said. “We’re parking at Atlantic Aviation.”
“I’ll see you there,” Stone said. “Oh, by the way, Mike Freeman is going to join us for dinner.”
“He called me. I’ve already added him to our table.”
“Great, see you in an hour.” Stone hung up. He told Dino about the call from Rick Barron earlier in the day.
“That sounds ominous,” Dino said.
“Yes, it does. I’ve called both Schmeltzer and Harvey Stein, and neither of them has gotten back to me.”
“It’s Sunday afternoon,” Dino said. “They’re probably on the golf course.”
“Why didn’t I think of that?” Stone said. “You’re probably right; they’ll call back this evening.”
 
 
 
Stone got Vance Calder’s Bentley Arnage out of the garage, and they drove to Santa Monica Airport and got buzzed through the security gate and onto the ramp.
“Here comes a G-III,” Dino said, pointing.
Stone looked up to see the beautiful plane turning from the taxiway into the Atlantic Aviation ramp. “That is she,” he said. He waited until the airplane was chocked, then drove out and parked near the door. The airstair dropped into place, and Arrington walked down the steps, looking fresh as a teenager.
Stone hugged and kissed her, and she gave Dino a kiss, too. “How was your flight?” Stone asked.
“Heavenly,” she replied. “It’s like having your own railroad car, except it moves at five hundred knots. I actually had a shower, so I wouldn’t have to change at home.”
Stone opened the boot of the car so that the crew could load her luggage, then he turned to see another G-III taxiing onto the ramp. “There’s the Strategic Services airplane,” he said. “I’d thought Mike would go into Burbank.”
“We coordinated,” Arrington said. “I was actually able to telephone him from my airplane to his. Isn’t that extraordinary?”
“It is,” Stone agreed. He watched a black SUV pull up to Mike’s airplane and saw Mike get out.
“Why don’t we go straight to the restaurant?” Arrington said.
“It’s Michael’s, in Santa Monica. Mike’s car can take his luggage to the Bel-Air.”
“Good idea,” Stone said, and in little more than a moment they were all in the Arnage, and shortly after that they were settled in a garden table at Michael’s.
Arrington was facing the door. “Well, that’s awkward, isn’t it?” she said, nodding toward the restaurant door.
Stone turned and saw Terry Prince, Carolyn Blaine, and two other people enter the garden.
“Yes, it is,” Stone said. “Ignore them.”