Sex, Lies & Serious Money

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Stone Barrington landed at Teterboro Airport, having flown nonstop from Santa Fe, with a good tailwind. He and Bob, his Labrador retriever, were met by Fred Flicker, his factotum, at the airport. Bob threw himself at Fred. After a moment’s happy reunion, they were transferred to Stone’s car.

Stone had spent most of the flight trying to put Gala Wilde out of his mind after their breakup. He had not succeeded.

They arrived at Stone’s house in Turtle Bay and Fred pulled into the garage. Stone got out of the car to be greeted by his secretary, Joan Robertson, but Bob got there first and did his happy dance.

“There’s somebody waiting to see you,” Joan said.

“Anybody I know?”

“Apparently a friend of somebody you know in Palm Beach.”

Stone’s circle of acquaintances in Palm Beach was not wide. “Dicky Chalmers?”

“Right.”

“Give me a minute, then send him in.” Stone went into his office, rummaged among the mail and messages on his desk and found a pink message slip.

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