“Do you know,” Stone said, kissing her, “this is the first time I’ve kissed you?”

“I never kiss until the third date,” she said. “And I never make love until…

Stone slid easily into her.

“…now,” she breathed.

Sunlight streamed into the rear windows of the house and across the bed. They lay in each other’s arms, sweating, breathing hard.

“I thought that went very well,” Arrington panted.

“All three times?” Stone asked.

“Don’t brag. Oh, all right, all three times.” She kissed him noisily on the ear. “I’m hungry; it’s your turn to make breakfast.”

“Eh?” he shouted, cupping a hand behind his ringing ear.

She got out of bed and headed for the kitchenette in the hall. “And turn on the Today show,” she called.

“Television? In the morning?”

“I never miss it.”

“The honeymoon’s over,” he grumbled, fumbling in a drawer for the remote control.

She came back with juice, muffins, and coffee.

“How’d you know what I wanted?” he asked.

“Easy. That’s all there is in your kitchenette.”

“Would you like me to lay in a stock of whatever you eat for breakfast?”

“This will do nicely,” she said, “as long as I can keep having you as well.”

Stone ate his muffin and gazed at the TV. “I don’t think I can make love to Bryant Gumbel,” he said. “But I might be able to manage something to Katie Couric.”

“I told you to stop bragging,” she giggled. “Now eat your muffin.”

“This muffin is not all I’m going to eat,” he replied.

“You never told me you were a sex maniac,” she said. “But it’s a nice surprise.”

The phone rang. Stone unconsciously reached for it. “Hello?”

“My name’s Bob,” a man’s voice said. “Dino said to call.”

“Right. I’ve got some work for you.”

“He gave me a couple addresses.”

“Why don’t you start here, and I’ll brief you on the others.”

“Okay, half an hour?”

Stone looked at Arrington, sitting cross-legged, naked, in his bed. “Make it an hour,” he said.

Bob Cantor had been in the house for two hours when he came down to Stone’s office.

“Come in, and have a seat.”

He closed the door behind him.

“Well?”

“Somebody’s very interested in you,” Cantor said.

Stone sat up. “How interested?”

“The whole house; top to bottom. Phone lines, too, but not the offices.”

“Jesus Christ.”

“I don’t think He needs to use a wire.”

“Bedroom?”

“Yep.”

“Shit.”

“You want me to yank everything?”

Stone thought for a moment. “Can you disable it in a way that will make them think it’s just broken?”

Cantor nodded. “I can create enough static to make them think it’s their fault.”

“Good, do that.”

“Okay.”

“How long?”

“Half an hour.”

Shortly, Cantor was back. “It’s done. You may hear some static on the phone lines, but it’ll be manageable. I left the fax machine alone; static there would give you garbled transmissions.”

“Fine.” Stone handed him a sheet of paper and two envelopes. “These are the other two addresses, and I’ve written a letter to each woman, telling them what you’re going to do.”

“If I find something, you want me to do the same thing to it? I mean, whoever’s bugging you might think something’s up if all three systems go down.”

“Good point. Do the same work on Ms. Dart’s offices and apartment, but leave the Potts place up and running. Then call me.”

“One thing,” Cantor said.

“What’s that?”

“You got a very nice burglar alarm system in the house; you ever use it?”

“When I go away.”

“Start using it all the time. I mean, now that the wire on your place isn’t working right, they might come back to fix it.”

“I hadn’t thought of that,” Stone said.

Amanda got to Stone first. “What the hell is going on?” she demanded. “This man of yours says there are bugs all over my offices.”

“What’s going on, Amanda, is that there are bugs all over your offices. That’s where your leak is, or at least part of it.”

“Well, I told him to yank them all out.”

Stone groaned. “I told him to create static, but leave them in place. Now whoever planted the bugs is going to know you know.”

“That’s just fine with me,” she said. “I want the bastard to know.”

“Amanda, you got the surveillance reports on your people, the ones I sent you?”

“Yes, and they both look innocent enough to me.”

“To me, too; that leaves Martha.”

“Stone, I’ve told you, it couldn’t be Martha.”

“We’re running out of suspects; there’s only the maid and Martha. I want your permission to check out both of them. Oh, and the chauffeur, too.”

“I hate paying for work that I know will turn up nothing.”

“That’s understandable, but anytime you investigate a group of people, you have to investigate them all. That’s the only way it will work. So, have I your permission to investigate these three people?”

“Oh, all right, but for God’s sake, don’t let any of them know. It would be so embarrassing for me if they found out.”

“Not as embarrassing as what DIRT is publishing.”

“You have a point. Do it.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Her voice changed, became lower. “I thought you were going to call me for a get-together.”

Better bite the bullet, Stone thought. “I’m sorry, Amanda, but I have to be frank with you. I’m seeing somebody, and she’s taking all my… attention.”

“Shit,” Amanda said, and hung up.

Tiffany was next.

“I’m calling from a pay phone,” she said.

“Good girl.”

“That Bob says that somebody can hear every word that’s spoken in my apartment or on my phone, and that he’s not fixing it.”

“If we fix it, Tiff, whoever is listening will know that you know.”

“Stone, you told me to find a boyfriend, so I did. Now when I bring him home, somebody’s going to hear us in bed.”

“You’re an actress; think of it as a performance.”

She was quiet for a moment. “I hadn’t thought of that,” she said finally. “Come to think of it, that could be a turn-on.”

“Whatever works for you, Tiff.”

“I wish there was a way I could turn the bug off for a few minutes at a time, though.”

“Does the boyfriend have a home?”

“Yeah, but it’s way down in the Village.”

“The Village is charming; a great place to make love.”

“Mmmmm,” she said.

“And Tiff, for God’s sake, stay away from Dick – no hotels of anything; it’s for his own good, tell him that.”

“He has been insistent.”

“How did you communicate?”

“Pay phone at both ends.”

“Do this: Tell him no contact for two weeks.” Stone had no idea where he’d be on this investigation in two weeks, but what the hell?

“Okay.”

“See you, Tiff.”

“Bye.”

Bob Cantor called next.

“Boy, that Tiffany is something!” he said.

“Down, Bob. Her boyfriend could buy and sell you, and he would.”

“Too bad. Oh, Amanda Dart made me rip out everything.”

“She told me. I’ll just have to live with it. You ever do any surveillance work?”

“Once in a while.”

“I’ve got two people need checking out; got a pencil?”

“Shoot.”

Stone gave him the names and addresses of the maid and chauffeur. He would check out Martha himself. “I need this soonest,” he told Cantor.

“Gotcha. Oh, Stone, I almost forgot; I might know who did the wiring job on you and the other two.”

“Yeah? Who?”

“Maybe a guy who occasionally hangs out at a bar I go to.”

“What makes you think you know?”

“He has a signature; it’s the way he wraps a wire around a terminal – he makes a kind of knot. Somebody told me about it. You want me to add this to my list?”