“So I write her a letter, pouring out my heart, practically asking her to marry me…”

“‘Practically’? What is that?” Elaine demanded.

“All right, not in so many words, but I think she would have gotten the idea.”

“She didn’t get the idea?”

“She didn’t get the letter. I gave it to a lady headed for Florida to FedEx for me, and her plane crashed on takeoff.”

“Wow,that’s the best excuse I ever heard for not writing,” Elaine said. “You sure your dog didn’t eat it?”

“I swear, I wrote her the letter. Then, before I could write it again, I get a fax from Arrington saying that she and Calder were married in Needles, Arizona, the day before. What am I supposed to do?”

“You were supposed to do it a long time ago,” Elaine said. “Why should this gorgeous girl wait around for you to get your ass in gear?”

“Maybe, but there was nothing I could do at this point, Elaine. I was going to trial in a couple of days; the woman’s life depended on me.”

“The woman might have been better off if you’d gone after Arrington,” Dino said, “considering how the trial went.”

“Thanks, Dino, I needed that.”

“Any time.”

“So now Arrington is married to the guyPeople says is the sexiest man in America, and I’m…” His voice trailed off.

“How long they been married?” Elaine asked.

“I don’t know-two and a half, three months.”

“It’s probably too late,” Elaine mused. “Unless it’s goingreally badly.”

“I’ve had a couple of letters from her telling me how gloriously it’s going,” Stone said glumly.

“Oh,” Elaine said.

There followed a long silence.

Jack came over to the table. “Phone call for you, Stone,” he said, pointing at one of the two pay phones n the wall nearby.

“Who is it?”

“I don’t know,” Jack replied, “but he’s got abeautiful speaking voice on the telephone.”

“Must be Vance Calder,” Dino deadpanned.

Elaine burst out laughing.

Stone got up and trudged over to the phone. “Hello?” he said, sticking a finger in the other ear to blot out some of the noise.

“Stone?”

“Yeah? Who’s this?”

“Stone, this is Vance Calder.”

“Yeah, sure; Dino put you up to this?”

“What?”

“Who is this?”

“It’s Vance, Stone.”

Stone hung up the phone and went back to the table. “Nice,” he said to Dino.

“Huh?”

“Guy on the phone says he’s Vance Calder. Thanks a lot.”

“Don’t thank me,” Dino said. “I never met the guy.”

“You put whoever that was up to it, didn’t you? It was a setup.” He looked at Elaine. “You were probably in on it, too.”

Elaine placed a hand on her ample bosom. “Stone, I swear.”

Jack came back. “Same guy on the phone again; says you hung up on him. You know who it sounds like?”

“Vance Calder?” Dino suggested.

“Yeah!” Jack said. “Sounds just like him!”

After a glare at Dino and Elaine, Stone went back to the phone. “Hello?”

“Stone, we’ve met; don’t you know my voice?”

“Vance?”

“Yes,” Calder replied, sounding relieved.

“I’m sorry, I thought someone…”

“It’s all right; it happens a lot.”

“Hello, Vance; how’d you find me here?”

“There was no answer at your house, and I remembered that Arrington said you were at Elaine’s a lot. I took a chance.”

“How is Arrington, Vance?”

“That’s what I’m calling about, Stone. Arrington has disappeared.”

“What do you mean, disappeared?”

“Just that; she’s vanished.”

“When?”

“The day before yesterday.”

“Have you been to the police?”

“I can’t do that; the tabloids would be all over me. I need your help, Stone.”

“Vance, you’d really be a lot better off going to the police; there’s nothingI can do.”

“Have you heard from her?”

“I had a letter about a month ago; she sounded very happy.”

“She has been very happy, but all of a sudden she’s gone, with no explanation.”

“Vance, I don’t know what I can do to help.”

“You can find her, Stone; if anybody can, you can. I want you to come out here.”

“Vance, really…”

“The Centurion Studios jet is at Teterboro Airport right now, at Atlantic Aviation, waiting for you. You can be here by morning.”

“Vance, I appreciate your confidence in me, but…”

“Stone, Arrington is pregnant.”

Stone felt as if he’d been struck in the chest. He could count.

“Stone?”

“I’ll be at Teterboro in an hour, Vance.” “There’ll be a car waiting for you at Santa Monica Airport.”

“Write down everything you can think of, Vance; we’ll have a lot to talk about.”

“I will. And thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” Stone said, then hung up. He returned to the table. “You’re buying dinner, Dino,” he said. “I’m off to La-La Land.”

“About what?” Dino asked.

“I’ll tell you later.” Stone said.

“Say hello to Arrington for me,” Elaine said, looking at him over her glasses.

“You bet, Elaine.” He pecked her on the cheek, walked out of the restaurant, and started looking for a cab.

Stone’s taxi driver, a former resident of the Indian subcontinent who had recently arrived in the United States, well ahead of his English, got lost in New Jersey, and by the time Stone had redirected him to Teterboro Airport, using sign language, it had begun to rain hard. Finally at Atlantic Aviation, Stone paid the man, grabbed his luggage, and ran into the deserted terminal, waking up a young woman behind the service counter. “I’m looking for the Centurion Studios airplane,” he said to her.

“It’s the only one on the ramp,” she replied, yawning and pointing at the rear doors.

Stone stopped at the doors, looked out onto the tarmac, and smiled. “A G-IV,” he said aloud to himself. It was the biggest and best of the corporate jets, and he had never been aboard one. Its engines were already running. He ran through the rain to the airplane and clambered up the steps, hauling his luggage into the cabin.

A young woman in a pale Armani suit materialized before him. “Mr. Barrington?”

“Yes.”

“Let me take your bags, and please have a seat; we’re ready for takeoff.” She disappeared aft with his two bags; he kept his briefcase and took the first available seat. In the rear of the airplane a distinguished-looking man was sitting on a sofa, talking on a small cellular phone. Stone buckled in as the airplane started to roll. He wanted to go forward and watch the takeoff, but the cockpit door was closed. Instead, he sat and watched the rain stream along his window.

The airplane never stopped rolling, but turned onto the runway and accelerated. Shortly they were airborne and climbing steeply. The attendant came forward again and hovered over his seat. She was pretty in a characterless sort of way, and she displayed some very expensive dental work. “Would you like something to drink?” she cooed.

Stone’s heart was still pumping hard from his dash to the airport. “Yes, a brandy, please.”

“We have some vintage cognac, a Hine ’55, and some very old Armagnac.”

“I’ll try the Armagnac,” he said. A moment later he was warming a tissue-thin crystal snifter between both hands.

“Mr. Regenstein would be pleased if you would join him aft when the seatbelt sign goes off” the woman said.

“Thank you,” Stone replied. Regenstein: the name had a familiar ring, but he couldn’t place it. He sipped his Armagnac, and presently the airplane leveled off and the seatbelt sign went out. He unbuckled and walked down the aisle toward where the other man sat.

As he approached, the man stood and offered his hand. “I’m Lou Regenstein,” he said.

Stone shook his hand. “I’m Stone Barrington.” The man was much older than he had looked from a distance; Stone reckoned he was in his mid- to late sixties.

“Oh, yes, Vance’s friend. Please sit down, and thank you for joining me. It’s nice to have some company on one of these flights.”