Page 120 of Stuart Woods' Smolder

“Do you know any?”

“I do, and he lives here in L.A.”

—

Help arrived at Stone’s house one hour later.

“Monica, I’d like you to meet my friend Billy Barnett.”

“A pleasure,” Billy said, shaking her hand.

“Billy Barnett?” Monica said. “The film producer?”

“One and the same.”

“Oh, you’re here because your painting was stolen. Has there been any news?”

“Nothing yet.”

Monica turned to Stone. “How long until your expert gets here?”

“That would be Billy.”

She glanced at each of them. “Please don’t take this the wrong way, but how can a movie producer help us?”

“That’s an excellent question,” Billy said. “What you don’t know is that I have a friend who worked in intelligence. If I think he can help, I’ll pass on everything to him.”

“You’re a middleman, then?”

“Exactly.”

“I’m not sure if I’m any less confused, but since Stone trusts you, then I do, too.”

“Billy, would you like a drink?” Stone said.

“Maybe after you’ve told me what you need.”

“I think that’s my cue,” Dino said. “If you’ll all excuse me, I’m going to call it a night.”

Monica looked surprised. “You’re not staying?”

Dino feigned a yawn. “Jet lag. Gets me every time.”

He headed to the guest room.

“He didn’t seem tired before,” Monica said.

“Probably because he wasn’t,” Stone said. “There are some conversations the police commissioner would be better off not hearing.”

“I hadn’t thought of that.”

“You’ll get used to it the more you hang around with us.”

“ThemoreI hang around you? I like the sound of that.”

“We all live in New York. You never know who you’ll run into.”

She raised an eyebrow. “I hope we can do more than run into each other.”

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