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Stone crooked a finger. “Come with me,” he said. He led Billy Bob into the bedroom.

“What is going on?” the Texan demanded.

“Account for your movements yesterday,” Stone said.

“What? What for?”

“Billy Bob, we don’t have much time. Tell me what you did and where you went after I saw you at breakfast yesterday.”

“You sound serious, Stone.”

“There are three cops waiting in the other room. Is that serious enough?”

“Awright, we ate breakfast and me and Tiffany went upstairs. Then I . . .”

“Did you have sex with her?”

“What?”

“Did you fuck her, Billy Bob? Let’s have it.”

“As a matter of fact, I did. Then I got myself together, packed my stuff and left.”

“Why didn’t you take her with you?”

“Well, she was kind of tuckered out when we finished, and she wanted to take a shower.”

“Was she in the shower when you left?”

“No, she was still in bed, but she was thinkin’ about it.”

“Where did you go, then?”

“I went down to your office, but your secretary said you wasn’t there, so I got in a car and went to Teterboro and flew to Omaha, to see Warren.”

“I thought you had an engine down.”

“Gulfstream service is real good; they flew one up and got it on there yesterday.”

“All right, we’re going back in there, now. Tell them what you told me. Have you left anything out?”

“What the fuck is going on, Stone?”

“It’s better if they tell you. Have you left anything out?”

“No, that’s it.”

“All right, come on.” He led the way back into the living room.

“Have you rehearsed your client enough, Stone?” Dino asked.

“Ask him your questions.”

They asked their questions, and he gave the same answers he had given Stone.

“Can you prove you were in Omaha?” Detective Morton asked.

Billy Bob dug into a pocket and came out with a card. “Warren Buffett’s office number is on here,” he said. “You can get him tomorrow morning. I happen to know he’s out tonight.”


Tags: Stuart Woods Stone Barrington Mystery