Carnal Curiosity (11 page)

Stone got his feet on the floor. “Not without a shower and some breakfast.”

Ann got out of bed and began looking for clothes. Stone got into and out of a shower. “You’re next. You don’t want to get to the office looking like that.”

Ann turned and looked in the full-length mirror on the wall. “Oh, God.”

“I’ll fix some breakfast while you fix you.”

—

T
hey were nearly to Danbury before Ann could get a cell phone signal. Stone had a mini cell at his house, but the local area had only spotty service.

“Betty,” Ann was saying, “call our California campaign manager and get him to set up a phone bank to poll the convention delegates out there and see where we stand. I’ll be at the office by nine. Call me there.”

“You’ll be at the office by seven-thirty,” Stone said. “I hope you have a key to the place.”

“I do.”

“Do you think Stanton will drop out of the race?”

“He won’t if he’s smart, and he’s pretty smart. His people are already doing what we’re doing, testing the waters.”

“There’ve been rumors about his sex life for years,” Stone said.

“Yes, and most of them are true. Will extracted a promise from him when he put him on the ticket that he’d keep it in his pants, but the cock famously doesn’t have a brain.”

“I really don’t see how he can pull it out—you should excuse the expression—and stay in the race.”

“It’s good that people saw us together at the restaurant last night. Two of them were either news reporters or producers.”

“Why is that good?” Stone asked. “Not that I mind our being seen together.”

“Because that makes you my boyfriend, whether you like it or not.”

“I’m okay with the characterization,” Stone said, “but what the hell does that have to do with the race?”

“It will help with the rumors,” Ann said. Her phone rang. “Yes? How many have we talked to? What’s the split? Shit! I thought we’d do better.” She hung up. “It looks like Marty Stanton’s delegates are pretty much sticking with him.”

“What rumors?”

“Huh?”

“You said that our being seen together would help with the rumors.”

“You haven’t heard?”

“Heard what?” Stone was mystified.

“About you and Kate.”

“What about Kate and me?”

“The rumor is that the two of you are having an affair, and right under Will Lee’s nose.”

22

S
tone turned onto I-684 and accelerated. “What are you talking about?”

“Is it true?” Ann asked. “If it’s over, then I don’t care.”

“Of course it’s over! I mean, it never was over! I mean, we were never having an affair! Where did that come from?”

“Some blogger mentioned it, and when we tried to trace him, it seemed to have come from somebody in California. We think the original source could be Marty Stanton.”

“Why would he do that?”

“Insurance—in case something happened like what just happened. You shouldn’t be surprised if it comes up again.”

“Surprised? I’ll be shocked and outraged!”

“Stone, it’s just politics—don’t worry about it.”

“What is Will going to say? They’re both my friends.”

“Will won’t believe it. Tell me, how many times have you had dinner with Kate—lately, I mean.”

“I had dinner with both Will and Kate twice, and on one occasion she called me when she didn’t have anything to do and invited me up to the Carlyle for dinner.”

“Just the two of you?”

“Just the two of us, plus a butler, a waiter, and a full complement of Secret Service agents. It certainly wasn’t an assignation.”

“If some reporter asks you about it, don’t lie. Say what you just said to me.”

“I’ve never been alone with Kate at any time. There have always been others present, usually Will.”

“That’s a good line—use it. Now, the other thing is, you can’t let anyone say that I’m a beard for you and Kate.”

“Certainly not! What do I have to do, tell them I fucked you last night?”

“I hope you won’t phrase it exactly that way, but I won’t be insulted if you intimate it—and, by the way, you fucked me twice last night.”

“I have a very clear memory of that.”

She laughed. “So do I, and a fond memory.”

“For me, too.”

Ann’s phone rang and continued to ring right up until they pulled up in front of the campaign headquarters. Stone pressed the button that opened the trunk, then he got out, handed Ann her bags, and kissed her. A strobe light began to flash rapidly.

“Don’t worry about it,” Ann said, nodding toward the door. A photographer stood there, still shooting. “It can’t hurt.”

Stone drove into his garage and put the cover back on the Blaise, then he went to his office and turned on the TV to
Morning Joe
, which had been recorded. A reporter was standing outside a house overlooking the sea.

“This is the La Jolla, California, home of Vice President Martin Stanton,” the reporter was saying, “where in the wee hours of this morning a jealous husband showed up and demanded to see the vice president. He was questioned by the Secret Service, and while they were talking to him a garage door opened and a car driven by a woman left the premises. The husband, a local attorney and Democratic committeeman, identified the driver as his wife. He was not detained by the Secret Service. A spokesperson for the vice president said she had no knowledge of the event and declined any comment. A spokesperson for first lady and presidential candidate Katherine Lee also had no comment. We have not heard from the White House.”

Joan came into the office. “What on earth are you doing here?” she asked. “You should still be in bed.”

“I drove up to Connecticut yesterday and came back early this morning.”

“Have you had breakfast?”

“Yes, thanks.”

“Did you see that thing about the vice president?”

“Yes, I did.”

Joan went to her office and came back with the
Times
and the
Daily News
. “Here’s the woman,” she said, handing Stone the
News
.

Stone looked at the photograph of an attractive woman who appeared to be in her thirties. Her name was Laura Grayson, and her husband was Carl Grayson. He looked up at the TV again and saw Martin Stanton leaving his house and getting
into a black SUV. Reporters were shouting questions at him. He stopped for a moment. “It was entirely innocent,” he said. “We were watching an old movie on TV, and it ran late. It was entirely innocent.” He got into the car and was driven away, as the reporters continued to shout questions at the car.

“You think he can get away with that?” Joan asked.

“That remains to be seen. By the way, I’ve been told that some blogger put out a report that Kate Lee and I are having an affair.”

“What?”

“That was pretty much my reaction, too.”

“Are you?”

“Of course not. I’ve never even been alone with her.”

“Oh, I’m so relieved to hear that,” Joan said, clasping a hand to her bosom.

“We may get some calls about it. I just wanted to warn you. For the record, I’m seeing a deputy campaign manager of Kate’s. Her name is Ann Keaton.”

“Oh, yes, she came here to interview you.”

“Right.”

“Was she in Connecticut with you?”

“Yes.”

“Are you having an affair with her? Not that I need to ask. I would be astonished if you weren’t.”

“Joan, you’re forgetting yourself.”

She went off to her office. The phone rang, and Joan buzzed him. “A gentleman from Page Six at the
Post
.”

Stone picked up the phone. “Stone Barrington.”

“Mr. Barrington, Henry Jacobs at Page Six. We have a report that you’re having an affair with Kate Lee. Any truth to that?”

“Certainly not. That’s preposterous.”

“We have a report.”

“It’s a lie. Don’t believe everything you read on the Internet. I’ve never so much as been alone with Mrs. Lee.” He hung up.

Joan buzzed again. “
People
magazine on line two.”

“Oh, shit,” Stone muttered, and picked up the phone.

23

T
he morning wore on, and the calls from the press kept coming. Stone answered every one and delivered the same message. He declined television interviews.

Joan buzzed again. “This time it’s only Dino.”

“Dino? How are you?”

“Question is, how are you? The Internet is alive with stories of you and Kate Lee.”

“I know, I’ve been answering calls and issuing denials all morning.”

“Relax, it’ll calm down before the day is over. I know that, in spite of how horny you always are, you’re too smart to get involved with a woman who is married to the president and, simultaneously, running for president. Our vice president, however, is not all that smart.”

“Yeah, Ann Keaton and I were in Connecticut last night, and she started getting calls about Stanton around sunup.”

“Well, put it out of your mind, and let it die of its own accord. Now, would you like to hear how the investigation of your dinner party robbery on Saturday night is going?”

“Yes, please.”

“My lead investigator finally reached Don Dugan this morning and questioned him. Apparently, he was in the Hamptons all weekend, and your former girlfriend and others have alibied him solidly. His story is, he fired the Dragos after your encounter with them in Central Park.”

“Yeah, sure. Have you talked to the Dragos?”

“We can’t find them. They haven’t been seen by anybody who knows them for a week.”

“I’m telling you, they’re your guys, and if you nail them, they’ll implicate Dugan.”

“I don’t doubt it.”

“By the way, Dugan called me yesterday and made nice.”

“How nice?”

“He actually told me that he’s a nice guy and we should be friends.”

“And you reacted how?”

“I pretty much told him to go fuck himself.”

“Well, you’re such an authoritative voice that I’m sure he’s trying to do that right now.”

“Anything on the jewelry?”

“Nah, and I didn’t expect there to be. This was a pretty slick robbery, and I’m sure they had disposal all worked out ahead of time.”

“That’s what I think, too. Anything on who the other two guys were?”

“Now that you mention it, two first cousins of the Dragos are missing in action, too—disappeared about the same time the brothers did.”

“Sounds like you’re ahead of the game, Dino.”

“Only in my own mind. We don’t have any witnesses who can identify anybody, except this one guy who’s sure he recognized a voice. We don’t have any jewelry, either.”

“Once you find the Dragos, it will start to come together. You know the type—they’ll fall apart.”

“Gee, let’s hope so. I’d really like this to go like a one-hour TV cop show, all wrapped up after forty-three minutes, plus commercials.”

“Of course, they could lawyer up and make you prove everything, and then you’re fucked.”

“Don’t say that, it’s not nice. Anyway, we have techniques other than beating confessions out of perps.”

“Yeah, I’m sure they sprayed DNA all over the scene. Were the doorman and receptionist any use at all?”

“None.”

“I’d be willing to bet that one of them has been bought.”

“Or both. We’re running that down.”

“Dinner this week?”

“You name it.”

“Tomorrow night?”

“Sure, Viv will be here. You bring what’s-her-name.”

“Kate Lee?”

“The other one.”

“Ann Keaton.”

“That one.”

“I’ll do my best. See ya.”

They both hung up.

Joan buzzed. “Ann Keaton on hold for you.”

Stone pressed the button. “Good morning.”

“Afternoon,” she said.

“Sorry to keep you waiting. I didn’t get enough of you last night—can we do it again?”

“Careful, I’m on an office line, and it gets recorded.”

“Oops.”

“I’ll call you back on my cell in a minute.”

Stone hung up and waited for the phone to ring. It rang. “Now can we arrange an assignation?”

“Stone, have you gone nuts?” It was Kate Lee.

“Kate, I’m so sorry. I thought it was going to be Ann.”

“I’m sure it will be soon. How are you faring with the media?”

“I’m telling them the truth,” he said.

“Good, that’s all you need to do. Hang in there, and this will blow over.”

“How about Martin Stanton’s case? Will that blow over?”

“I can only hope not,” she said, laughing. “He should get what he deserves. Bye-bye.”

“Bye.” Stone hung up, and the phone rang again. “Yes?”

“It’s Ann.”

“I just had a call from Kate, and I thought it was you.”

“Oh, God, I hope you didn’t say anything compromising.”

“Almost, but not quite.”

“Where were we?”

“I was saying I didn’t get enough of you last night.”

“Ah, yes, I remember now.”

“Any chance of dinner tonight?”

“Unlikely. Can I call you, if I can bust loose?”

“Sure. Tomorrow night I’m having dinner with the Bacchettis. You’re invited.”

“That’s much more likely. I hope you can understand how hard it is for me to make plans.”

“Sure I do. Did you get any poll results on Stanton?”

“Yes, and he’s holding remarkably well. This thing hasn’t played out yet, though. If the woman talks to a tabloid or if her husband is mad enough to press the issue, that could change. I wouldn’t want to be in Stanton’s shoes.”

“How about his delegates?”

“They’re holding, almost to a man, so to speak. How are you doing with the press?”

“Just telling them the truth.”

“That’ll work. Hey, you didn’t tell me you took Kate to dinner at a restaurant. I had to read it in the
Post
.”

“God, I forgot about that. We still weren’t alone, though—the Secret Service delivered her and took her away when it was over.”

“Good. I’ll call you later.” She hung up.

Stone contented himself for the rest of the day with memories of the night before.