“Turns out the ME has never had a case where somebody tried to keep a body warm with an electric blanket,” Dino said. “He’s working on it, though, doing some tests.”
“What kind of tests?” Stone asked. “Is he going to strangle somebody, then put a blanket over the body and take its temperature every ten minutes?”
“Something like that,” Dino said, “except for the strangling part. He’ll nail it down; don’t worry.” Dino excused himself and went into the men’s room.
“Billy Bob,” Stone said, “the police turned up at my house this morning with a search warrant, and they found your gun in my safe.”
Billy Bob grinned. “Good thing I didn’t shoot that girl.”
“Don’t even joke about it,” Stone said, “and be careful what you say around Dino. Don’t forget, he’s the police.”
“But Dino’s your buddy, right?”
“Right, but he’s still a cop. He’s not going to let either of us off the hook, unless he has to, and if the medical examiner comes up with a supportable estimate of time of death that includes the time before you left for Omaha, then Dino is going to come calling on you. And by the way, the next time you leave town, come get that cannon of yours. My secretary will give it to you. It’s a good thing Dino’s detectives didn’t check the serial number against my license, or we’d have both been in trouble.”
Dino came back from the men’s room and began rummaging in his overcoat pockets. He came up with a clear plastic bag full of hundred-dollar bills and tossed it on the table. “Almost forgot,” he said. “You can have your money back. We didn’t find Billy Bob’s or the girl’s prints on any of it.”
Before Stone could remove the money, Elaine came and sat down. “Hey,” she said, “you’re getting to be a pretty good tipper.”
Stone stuffed the money into his own overcoat. “I’ve always been a good tipper,” he said, “but not that good.”
“Strangled anybody else lately?” she asked Stone.
“Stop it, you’re worse than Dino.”
“I think a woman did it,” Elaine said.
“How come?” Dino asked.
“Stands to reason, doesn’t it? Some woman Stone dumped probably did it.”
Dino nodded. “Women are born killers, like cats. Who’ve you dumped lately, Stone?”
“I haven’t dumped anybody; I get dumped, not the other way around.”
“That’s true,” Dino said, nodding vigorously. “Stone gets dumped a lot.”
“Well, not a lot,” Stone said, “but once in a while.”
“More than that,” Dino said.
“Just once in a while.”
“Okay, who’re you seeing at the moment?”
“The U.S. Attorney,” Elaine said, “but she hasn’t had time to dump him, yet.”
“Why don’t you two just get dumping off your minds?” Stone asked.
“What’s-her-name dumped him,” Dino said. “You know, the one that married the billionaire from Palm Beach.”
“Right,” Elaine said. “And there was Arrington, she dumped him. You know, Dino, Stone does get dumped a lot.
“Let’s order dinner,” Stone said, picking up a menu.
“About time,” Elaine said, getting up and wandering over to another table.
AFTER DINNER, Billy Bob grabbed the check, tossed a wad of two-dollar bills on the table and stood up. “Y’all got to excuse me,” he said. “Got a late date.” He put on his coat and left.