Shoot Him If He Runs

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Elaine’s, late.

Stone Barrington blew into Elaine’s, later than usual. Dino Bacchetti, his former NYPD partner, sat having dinner.

“Where the hell have you been?” Dino asked.

“ Spokane, Washington,” Stone replied. “I told you, remember?”

“I don’t remember anything anymore,” Dino said. “That’s Genevieve’s job, now.” Genevieve James was his new girlfriend, his first regular since his divorce. “What were you doing in Spokane?”

“I’m having the engine ripped off my airplane and replaced with a turbine-that’s a jet engine, turning a propeller.”

A waiter set a Knob Creek on the rocks before him, and he sipped it gratefully.

“But why are you late? Dinner was two hours ago.”

“Because my flight was late.”

“You don’t take the airlines; you have an airplane.”

“Dino, having sex again is addling your brain. I left the airplane in Spokane; the work takes three months. It’s a big job.”

“Right.”

Stone put several letters on the table and began opening them.

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