Free Cold Paradise by Stuart Woods

Stone. The door’s unlocked; let yourself in, and I’ll be down in a few minutes.”
    “Okay.” She clicked off, and Stone opened the door and walked into the house. It was quite beautiful, Queen Anne in style, not terribly large, but made of good materials—marble floors, walnut paneling, beautiful moldings. He found the living room and continued to explore, ending up in a handsome little library with many leather-bound volumes. A small bar had been set up on a butler’s tray, and he poured himself some chilled mineral water, then he wandered around the room. A collection of silver-framed photographs rested on the mantel, and Stone inspected them. They were all of Liz Harding with a handsome, silver-haired man, clearly Winston Harding, taken in various cities and on various beaches.
    “He was handsome, wasn’t he?” she said.
    Stone turned and found her standing in the doorway, wearing a white silk dress and a gorgeous diamond necklace, with matching earrings. Her hair was blond again.
    “Yes, he was, and you are very beautiful,” Stone said.
    She came and gave him a little hug, careful not to muss her makeup. “And so are you,” she said. “That’s the most beautiful dinner jacket I’ve ever seen.”
    “Thank you,” Stone replied. He decided to stop telling people that the clothes were Vance Calder’s, and to start taking credit himself.
    “Would you like a drink before we go?” she asked.
    “I think we’re already fashionably late,” he replied. “Why don’t we just go to the party?”
    She took his arm, and he led her out to the car.
    “Drive slowly,” she said. “The hair.”
    “I like it blond.”
    “So do I. It’s my natural color.”
    “I remember.”
    “Stone!” she said, laughing and blushing.
    “That wasn’t what I meant, but I remember that, too.”
    “You’re awful.”
    “I know.”
    “Still, we had some good times, didn’t we? You were getting over a girl, as I recall.”
    “And you were helping.”
    “I did what I could,” she said.
    Stone drove slowly through the town and finally turned into the driveway of Thad Shames’s house. Or tried to; there were half a dozen cars ahead of him. Music wafted through the open windows. Finally, he gave the keys to a valet and extracted Liz from the car. He was beginning to think of her as Liz by now. They walked through the open doors of the house and into the living room. A big band was playing Rodgers & Hart at the other end, and people were dancing.
    “How spectacular!” Liz said. “I mean, in spectacular good taste!”
    “It certainly is,” Stone agreed. “Would you believe that twenty-four hours ago, this was an empty, unpainted house?”
    “No, I would not,” she replied. She sniffed the air. “Still, there is that faint odor.”
    Stone spotted Thad Shames across the room, towering over his guests. “I think there’s someone over there who’d like to see you,” he said, taking her arm and leading her across the room.
    Shames spotted them coming and went to meet them, or rather, Liz.
    “Well, hello,” he said, taking both her hands and kissing her on both cheeks.
    “Will you excuse me?” Stone asked. They didn’t seem to notice, so he left them and made his way across the large room to where the bar had been set up on a long table. “A gin and tonic,” Stone said to the bartender.
    “Coming up,” the bartender replied.
    Stone saw Callie across the room and waved to her. She waved back, but seemed to have no interest in joining him.
    “Here you are,” the bartender said.
    “Thank you,” Stone replied, accepting the drink.
    “You know,” a voice behind him said, “I think you may look better in that dinner jacket than the original owner did.”
    Stone turned around and found Arrington Carter Calder standing there, looking gorgeous. Before she put her arms around his neck and kissed him, he could see, over her shoulder, Callie Hodges making her way toward them.

13
    H ER LIPS MELTED INTO STONE’S,