Cold Paradise 07 Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Chapter 56

  Chapter 57

  Chapter 58

  Chapter 59

  Chapter 60

  Chapter 61

  Chapter 62

  Chapter 63

  Chapter 64

  Chapter 65

  Acknowledgements

  Teaser chapter

  Praise for Cold Paradise

  “A delightful tale of sex and violence among the very rich … a delicious climax … a Sopranos-style shoot-out … slick, sophisticated fun.”

  —The Washington Post

  “Roller-coaster plotting.”

  —The Denver Post

  “Follows an honorable whodunit tradition… . All villains fall before him, and all beautiful women find him irresistible.”

  —Forth Worth Star-Telegram

  “Plenty of action plus a surprise ending. Replete with lavish homes, gourmet meals, sleek yachts, and willing women—this is an entertaining thriller.”

  —The Stuart News/Port St. Lucie News (FL)

  “It is Woods’s talent—taking an elementary formula and building a rapidly evolving plot—that differentiates much of his work from the genre’s time-worn conventions… . Fans of the Stone Barrington series will find Cold Paradise a requisite read.”

  —Dayton Daily News

  Praise for L.A. Dead

  “Scrumptious!”

  —The New York Times

  “Alive with action … so delightfully, typically Woods, it will send his fans into paroxysms of joy… . Entertainment novels can’t get any better than this.”

  —The Associated Press

  “The best novel in the series. With an exclamation point, Stuart Woods makes it evident that he is a force in the mystery genre.”

  —Midwest Book Review

  “One of the smoothest writers in the pop-literature biz and always a pleasure to read… . A stylish whodunit.”

  —The Detroit News

  “Barrington’s fans will likely welcome the detective’s newest California-chic adventure.”—Publishers Weekly

  “An exciting story, and Stuart Woods tells it well.”

  —Winston-Salem Journal

  “[A] nerve-racking thriller.”

  —The Stuart News/Port St. Lucie News (FL)

  Praise for Stuart Woods and His Bestselling Novels

  “An action-packed puzzler.”

  —People

  “Keeps you turning page after page.”

  —The Washington Post

  “A whale of a story.”

  —The New York Times

  “Blackmail, murder, suspense, love—what else could you want in a book?”—

  Cosmopolitan

  “Terrific.”

  —Pat Conroy

  “A fast-paced thriller.”

  —Rocky Mountain News

  “Another gem… . A book to read and get chills from on even the hottest day.”

  —The San Diego Union-Tribune

  “Woods delivers a marvelously sophisticated, thoroughly modern, old-fashioned read.”

  —Publishers Weekly (starred review)

  BOOKS BY STUART WOODS

  FICTION

  Santa Fe Dead

  Beverly Hills Dead

  Shoot Him If He Runs†

  Short Straw

  Dark Harbor†

  Iron Orchid1

  Two Dollar Bill†

  The Prince of Beverly Hills

  Reckless Abandon†

  Capital Crimes‡

  Dirty Work†

  Blood Orchid1

  The Short Forever†

  Orchid Blues1

  Cold Paradise†

  L.A. Dead†

  The Run‡

  Worst Fears Realized†

  Orchid Beach1

  Swimming to Catalina†

  Dead in the Water†

  Dirt†

  Choke

  Imperfect Strangers

  Heat

  Dead Eyes

  L.A. Times

  Santa Fe Rules

  New York Dead†

  Palindrome

  Grass Roots‡

  White Cargo

  Deep Lie‡

  Under the Lake

  Run Before the Wind‡

  Chiefs‡

  TRAVEL

  A Romantic’s Guide to the Country Inns of Britain and Ireland (1978)

  MEMOIR

  Blue Water, Green Skipper

  SIGNET

  Published by New American Library, a division of

  Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 375 Hudson Street,

  New York, New York 10014, USA

  Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto,

  Ontario M4P 2Y3, Canada (a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.)

  Penguin Books Ltd., 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

  Penguin Ireland, 25 St. Stephen’s Green, Dublin 2,

  Ireland (a division of Penguin Books Ltd.)

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  Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices:

  80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

  Published by Signet, an imprint of New American Library, a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc. Previously published in a G. P. Putnam’s Sons edition.

  First Signet Printing, April 2002

  Copyright © Stuart Woods, 2001

  Excerpt from The Short Fovever copyright © Stuart Woods, 2002

  All rights reserved

  eISBN : 978-1-101-10012-7

  REGISTERED TRADEMARK—MARCA REGISTRADA

  Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into
a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  PUBLISHER’S NOTE

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party Web sites or their content.

  The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  http://us.penguingroup.com

  This book is for Marvin and Rita Ginsky.

  1

  ELAINE’S, LATE.

  Stone Barrington finished his osso buco as Elaine wandered over from another table and sat down.

  “So?” she asked.

  “ ‘So?’ What kind of question is that?”

  “It means, ‘tell me everything.’”

  Stone looked up to see Dino struggling to shut the front door behind him. Dino was his former partner, now a lieutenant, head of the detective squad at the 19th Precinct.

  Dino came over, sloughing off a heavy topcoat. “Jesus,” he said, hanging up his coat, muffler and hat. “There’s already six inches of snow out there, and there’s at least thirty knots of wind.”

  “How are we going to get home?” Stone wondered aloud.

  “Don’t worry. My driver’s out there now, putting the chains on the car.” Dino now rated a car and driver from the NYPD.

  Stone shook his head. “Poor bastard. It’s tough enough being a cop without drawing you for a boss.”

  “What do you mean?” Dino demanded, offended. “The kid’s getting an education working for me. They don’t teach this stuff at the academy.”

  “What, how to put chains on a lieutenant’s car?”

  “All he has to do is watch me, and he learns.”

  Stone rolled his eyes, but let this pass. They drank their champagne in silence for a moment.

  “So?” Dino asked, finally.

  “That’s what I just asked him,” Elaine said.

  “So, I’m back.” Stone had returned from an extended stay in LA a few days before.

  “I knew that,” Dino said. “So?”

  “Can’t either of you speak in complete sentences?”

  “So,” Dino said, “how’s Mrs. Barrington?”

  “Dino,” Stone said, “if you’re going to start calling her that, I’m going to start carrying a gun.”

  “I heard,” Elaine said.

  “I’m not surprised,” Stone replied. “Dino has a big mouth.”

  “So, how is she?” Dino demanded.

  “I talked to Eduardo today,” Stone said. “Her shrink doesn’t want me to see her. Not for a while.”

  “That’s convenient,” Dino said.

  “You bet it is,” Stone agreed.

  “You feeling guilty, Stone?” Elaine asked.

  “Sure he is,” Dino said. “If he had just taken my advice …”

  “Mine, too,” Elaine echoed.

  “All right, all right,” Stone said. “If I had only taken your advice.”

  “Arrington is for you,” Elaine said.

  “Arrington isn’t exactly speaking to me,” Stone said.

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means that if I call her, she’s civil, but if I try to reason with her, she excuses herself and hangs up.”

  “How’s the boy?” Dino asked.

  “Peter’s fine.”

  “Does he know who his father is yet?”

  “Look, Dino, I don’t know who his father is. It could just as well have been Vance as me. Not even Arrington knows. Nobody will, until we do the DNA testing.”

  “And when does that happen?”

  “Arrington won’t discuss it.”

  “Keep after her.”

  “I don’t know if it’s worth it,” Stone said wearily. “I’m not sure it would make any difference.”

  “Give her time,” Dino said. “She’ll come around.”

  “You’re a font of wisdom, Dino. Know any other relationship clichés?”

  “Every eligible man in the country is going to be after her,” Elaine said.

  “What?” Stone asked.

  “She’s Vance Calder’s widow, dummy, and as such, she’s very, very rich. Not to mention gorgeous. You’d better get your ass down to Virginia and win her back.”

  “She knows where to find me,” Stone said.

  Elaine rolled her eyes.

  Another blast of frigid air blew into the room as the front door opened again.

  “It’s your pal Eggers,” Dino said, nodding toward the door.

  Bill Eggers came over to the table. He didn’t unbutton his coat. “Hi, Elaine, hi, Dino,” he said, then he turned to Stone. “I’ve been calling you all evening. I should have known I’d find you here.” Bill Eggers was the managing partner of Woodman & Weld, the extremely prestigious law firm with which Stone was associated, in a very quiet way.

  “My home away from home,” Stone said. “What’s up?”

  “I’ve got a client in the car that you have to see tomorrow morning.”

  “Bring him in. I’ll buy him a drink.”

  “He won’t come in.”

  “Who is he?”

  “No names, for the moment.”

  “You have secrets from us, Bill?” Elaine asked.

  “You bet I do,” Eggers replied. “Ten o’clock sharp, Stone?”

  “Ten o’clock is fine; sharp depends on the snow. Your office?”

  “Penthouse One, at the Four Seasons. He doesn’t want to be seen with you.”

  “Tell him to go fuck himself,” Stone said.

  “Stone,” Eggers said, “get this thing done and get it done right, and you could end up a rich man.”

  “Ten o’clock, sharp,” Stone said.

  2

  STONE LEFT HIS HOUSE IN TURTLE BAY EARLY. EIGHTEEN inches of snow had fallen the night before, and the city was a mess. Cabs were few, and he would have to hoof it to 57th Street and the Four Seasons Hotel.

  He was clad in a sheepskin coat, cashmere-lined gloves, a soft, felt hat and rubber boots over his shoes. The sidewalks on his block had not been cleared, but the street had been plowed, and he walked up the middle of it all the way to Park Avenue, unmolested by any traffic. The city was peculiarly quiet, the silence punctuated only by the occasional blast of a taxi’s horn and, twice, the sound of car striking car. He made it to the Four Seasons ten minutes early.

  It was said to be the most expensive hotel in the city, a soaring, very modern skyscraper set on the broad, crosstown street between Madison and Park. A gust of wind propelled him into the lobby, and he was immediately too warm. He found a checkroom and unburdened himself of his outer clothing, and shortly, the elevator deposited him on a high floor. He rang the bell beside the double doors and, immediately, a uniformed butler opened the door.

  “Yes, sir?”

  “My name is Barrington. I’m expected.”

  “Of course, sir, please come in.”

  Stone was ushered through a foyer into a huge living room with a spectacular view of the city looking south, or what would have been a spectacular view if not for the clouds enveloping the tops of the taller buildings.

  Bill Eggers came off a sofa by the windows and shook his hand. “Sit down,” he said, “and let me brief you.”

  Stone sat down, and immediately he heard another man’s voice coming from an adjoining room through an open door. “Bill?” th
e voice said. “Come on in.”

  Eggers stood up. “I’m sorry,” he said to Stone, “but there’s no time. Just listen a lot and follow my lead. Say yes to anything he says.”

  “Not if he propositions me,” Stone said, but Eggers was already leading the way into the next room. Stone followed, and a very tall, very slender man in his mid-thirties came around a desk and shook Eggers’s hand. “How are you, Bill?”

  “Very well, Thad,” Eggers replied. “Let me introduce a colleague of mine. This is Stone Barrington. Stone, this is Thad Shames.”

  “How do you do?” Stone said, shaking the man’s hand. He knew just enough about him to know who he was, but no more than that. Software came into the equation, and multimillions. Stone didn’t follow finance or business very closely.

  “Good to meet you, Stone,” Shames said. “Bill says you can solve my problem?”

  Stone glanced at Eggers. “Yes,” he said, more confidently than he felt. Shames was dressed in a nicely cut dark suit, but his shirt seemed to have been laundered but not pressed. His tie was loose, and the button-down collar’s tips were not buttoned. Shames waved them both to a pair of facing sofas and, as he sat down and crossed his legs, revealed that he was also wearing a battered pair of suede Mephisto’s, a French athletic shoe. His blond, nearly pink hair was curly and tousled and had not been cut for months. He was clean-shaven, but Stone doubted that he could raise a beard.

  “I’ve got a press conference at the Waldorf in an hour,” Shames said, “so I’ll make this as quick as I can.”