L.A. Dead (Stone Barrington Series #6)

L.A. Dead (Stone Barrington Series #6)

by Stuart Woods

Narrated by Tony Roberts

Unabridged — 10 hours, 50 minutes

L.A. Dead (Stone Barrington Series #6)

L.A. Dead (Stone Barrington Series #6)

by Stuart Woods

Narrated by Tony Roberts

Unabridged — 10 hours, 50 minutes

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Overview

Cop-turned-lawyer-and-investigator Stone Barrington ventures out to the west coast-and out on a limb-in this "stylish whodunit" (Detroit News) filled with romance and murder.

Stone's trip to Venice -with a fiery Mafia princess- is cut short by a frantic phone call from half a world away. A celebrity murder has Los Angeles in an uproar and has a former flame pining for Stone's help-in more ways than one...

Editorial Reviews

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Our Review
So, is Arrington Calder really a murderer? While we don't know the answer to that question until much later in the new Stuart Woods novel, L.A. Dead, we soon learn that Stone Barrington has never quite gotten over his infatuation with the gorgeous Arrington. And trying to prove her innocent is not exactly making lawyer Barrington's life any easier -- especially considering that he's soon to get married to another woman.

Once again Woods gives us some engaging peeks at Los Angeles film society that are over the top but still a lot of fun. You know, people born with silver spoons in their noses. The name of his hero, Stone Barrington, sort of sets the tone. He might well be a relative of John Forsythe of the Dynasty era. A Gucci tough-guy.

There is mystery. There are suspects. There are scenes of violence. There are scenes of love. There is dialogue. There is narrative. The pages are numbered.

What redeems it all from the routine is Woods's mastery of storytelling. The guy is a master. A true one. You just can't stop reading the damned thing. Has he written better novels? Sure. Is this worth the $24.95? Yes. Because it delivers just what a Stone Barrington novel promises to deliver -- sexy, quick-read fun rendered with sleek, sure skill.

As a beach book, I'd give it a B+. But I hope you forgive me for missing the Stuart Woods of Chiefs, Under the Lake, and L.A. Times.

Maybe next time.

--Ed Gorman

Publishers Weekly - Publisher's Weekly

This latest installment in Woods's Stone Barrington thriller series finds the lawyer/sleuth from New York back in Los Angeles on a murder case in which everyone, even the accused, lazes along, enjoying life in sunny Southern California. In his sixth outing (following 1999's Worst Fears Realized), Barrington is surrounded by his usual cast of friends, acquaintances and casual sex partners. The biggest change here is that his ex-lover, Arrington Calder, stands accused of murdering her husband, movie star and renowned man-about-town Vance Calder, found dead of a gunshot wound in the couple's Bel Air mansion. Upon hearing the news, Barrington, in Italy for his imminent wedding to the lovely but unpredictable Dolce Bianchi, rushes to L.A. to take over Arrington's defense. Not much of substance happens next; there's plenty of rambunctious sex, lots of light banter, a few tiffs and a minimal bit of sleuthing. Barrington checks out who left the size-12 shoe imprint near the murder scene and does his best to avoid Dolce, who took exception to her fianc 's sudden departure from the nuptials and is now stalking him. The whole case ends abruptly and with little suspense, and everyone goes along his or her merry way. Woods's desultory plotting--it is never made entirely clear who really killed Vance Calder--and chatty dialogue may not suit hardcore thriller or mystery readers, but Barrington's fans will likely welcome the detective's newest California-chic adventure. Copyright 2000 Cahners Business Information.

Kirkus Reviews

Just when you thought his romantic problems had been resolved for good (Worst Fears Realized), Stone Barrington is snatched from the brink of holy matrimony by still another well-timed homicide.

From the Publisher

Praise for L.A. Dead

“Entertainment novels can’t get any better than this.”—Associated Press

“Scrumptious.”—The New York Times

“A pleasure to read....A stylish whodunit.”—The Detroit News

More Praise for Stuart Woods

“Stuart Woods is a no-nonsense, slam-bang storyteller.”—Chicago Tribune

“A world-class mystery writer...I try to put Woods’s books down and I can’t.”—Houston Chronicle 

“Mr. Woods, like his characters, has an appealing way of making things nice and clear.”—The New York Times

“Woods certainly knows how to keep the pages turning.”—Booklist

“Since 1981, readers have not been able to get their fill of Stuart Woods’ New York Times bestselling novels of suspense.”—Orlando Sentinel

“Woods’s Stone Barrington is a guilty pleasure...he’s also an addiction that’s harder to kick than heroin.”—Contra Costa Times (California)

Product Details

BN ID: 2940169090222
Publisher: Penguin Random House
Publication date: 12/15/2015
Series: Stone Barrington Series
Edition description: Unabridged

Read an Excerpt

Chapter 1

Elaine's, late. Stone Barrington and Dino Bacchetti sat at table number four, looking grim. Elaine joined them.

"So, what's happening here? You two look like you're going to start shooting any minute."

"I'm getting married," Stone said. "Congratulate me."

"Congratulations," Elaine said. "Anybody you know?"

"Hilarious," Stone said.

"It would be, if it weren't so insane," Dino added.

"You and Dolce are really going to do this?" Elaine asked, incredulous.

"Now don't you start," Stone growled.

"He won't listen to me," Dino said. "I've been telling him for a year to stay away from her."

"What've you got against your sister-in-law?" Elaine asked him.

"First of all, she's my sister-in-law," Dino replied. "Second, she's evil. Her old man is the devil, and Dolce is his handmaiden."

"Don't start that again, Dino," Stone said. "I don't want to hear it anymore. We're in love, we're getting married, and that's it. What's wrong with that?"

Elaine shrugged. "You're still in love with Arrington," she said. "Everybody knows that."

"What do you mean, 'everybody'?" Stone demanded.

"Me and Dino," Elaine replied.

"Right," Dino chimed in.

"She's married; she has a child," Stone said.

"So?" Elaine queried. "So, she's married to a movie star; nobody ever took a girl away from a movie star? Happens all the time."

"I'm not breaking up anybody's marriage," Stone said, "and Arrington knows it. I've told her so. Anyway, there's the boy."

"Wouldn't be the first kid raised by a stepfather," Elaine said.

"I think it's Stone's kid, anyway," Dino said.

"Dino, I told you, the blood test was done; I saw the lab report. The boy is Vance Calder's, and that's all there is to it. I'm not taking a kid away from his father. Besides, I like Vance."

"What's not to like?" Elaine asked. "He's handsome; he's the biggest star in Hollywood; he's the most charming man I ever met." She sipped her drink. "Present company included," she added.

"Thanks," Stone said. "I needed that."

"So, when's the happy day?" Elaine asked. "You going to be a June bride?"

"Monday," Stone replied. "In Venice."

"This is Thursday," Elaine pointed out. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"We're leaving tonight," Stone said.

"I got news for you, it's after midnight; all the flights have departed."

"We're taking a private jet; belongs to some friend of Eduardo."

"Not bad," Elaine said, looking impressed. "That way, you get to your hotel late enough tomorrow, so you don't have to wait for the people in your room to check out."

"Eduardo has a palazzo," Dino said. "We're being forced to stay there."

"You're going, too?" Elaine asked, incredulous again.

"He's my best man," Stone said glumly.

"If I don't go, my wife will divorce me," Dino said.

"She's Italian," Elaine pointed out. "She won't divorce you."

"The Bianchi family has found a way around that," Dino said. "Remember how Dolce got divorced?"

"I didn't know she was married," Elaine said.

"A youthful indiscretion. She married a capo in the Bonnano family when she was nineteen. It lasted less than three weeks, until she caught him in her bed with her maid of honor."

"So she got a divorce?"

"Not for some years. When it was inconvenient for her to still be married, the guy turned up New York dead. Took two in the back of the head, a classic hit."

"Let me get this straight," Elaine said, turning toward Stone. "The girl you're marrying on Monday in Venice had her ex popped?"

"Of course not," Stone said hotly. "That's Dino's theory. In the guy's line of work, it was an occupational hazard. Anybody could have had it done."

"Yeah, sure," Dino said. "Funny, it didn't get done until Dolce decided to throw a bag over Stone's head and lead him to the altar."

Stone glanced at his watch. "Dolce and Mary Ann are going to be here any minute. I want you to decide what you're going to do, Dino; are you going to stand up for me, or not? And if you are, I don't want to hear another word about Eduardo and his connections. You married into the family, too, remember?"

"Yeah, with a bun in the oven and a gun to my head. If I hadn't married her, I'd be at the bottom of Sheepshead Bay right now, with a concrete block up my ass."

"You love that girl, Dino," Elaine said, "and the boy, too. You know goddamned well you do."

Dino looked into his drink and said nothing.

"Make up your mind, Dino," Stone said. He looked up to see Dolce and Mary Ann walk into the restaurant. "They're here." He stood up to greet them.

"All right, all right," Dino said. "I guess I can't let you go over there by yourself."

Stone kissed the gorgeous Dolce. She was wearing a cashmere track suit and a huge smile.

"Everybody ready?" she asked. "The car's at the curb, all the bags are in the trunk."

"Everybody's ready," Stone said, shooting a warning glance at Dino.

Elaine stood up and kissed everybody. "Mazeltov," she said. "Send me a postcard."

"Come with us," Stone said. "There's room."

"And who'd mind the store?" she asked.

"You've got plenty of help here."

"They'd steal me blind. Go on, get going; send me a postcard from Venice."

"You bet," Stone said, hugging her.

The foursome left the restaurant. At the curb a spectacular car was waiting.

"What is this?" Stone asked, running a finger along the glossy paintwork.

"It's a Mercedes Maybach," Dolce replied. "The first one in the country. Papa knows somebody in Stuttgart."

"Papa knows somebody everywhere," Dino muttered, collecting a sharp elbow in the ribs from Mary Ann.

They piled into the spacious rear seats, facing each other, Pullman style.

"Not bad," Dino admitted, looking around. "I don't suppose there's a phone? I've gotta check in with the cop shop." Dino ran the detective squad at the nineteenth precinct.

"Oh, leave it, Dino," Stone said. "They can get along without you for a week."

Dolce handed Dino a phone, and he began dialing. "Did you pack all my stuff?" Dino asked Mary Ann.

"Everything's in the trunk," she replied. "I ironed your boxer shorts, too." She winked at Dolce. "They love it when you iron their underwear."

"I'll remember that," Dolce laughed.

"Gladys," Dino said into the phone, "I'm off. You've got the number in Venice if anything really important comes up, otherwise I don't want to know, got that? Good. Take care." He hung up. "Okay, I'm cut loose," he said to the others. "What kind of jet we going in, Dolce? I hate those little ones; this better be a G-Four or better."

"Wait and see," Dolce said smugly.

* * *

They drove onto the tarmac at Atlantic Aviation at Teterboro Airport, across the Hudson in New Jersey, and up to an airplane that dwarfed everything on the ramp.

"Holy shit!" Dino said as they got out of the limousine. "What the fuck is this?"

"It's a BBJ," Dolce replied, grabbing her jewelry box and cosmetics case from the back seat. The others took their hand luggage from the trunk.

"Sounds like a sandwich."

"A Boeing Business Jet, the biggest thing in the corporate skies."

Hank Esposito, who ran Atlantic Aviation, was at the airplane's stair door to greet them. "You're fueled for maximum range," he said. "You could make it to Tokyo, if you wanted."

"Not a bad idea," Dino said, boarding the airplane.

"Dino..." Stone warned.

Esposito helped the chauffeur stow the luggage into a forward area of the interior.

The party stepped into a cabin that looked like the living room of a New York City town house.

Stone was flabbergasted. "Where's the fireplace and the grand piano?" he asked.

An Armani-clad stewardess took their hand luggage and showed them through the airplane. Besides the big cabin, there was a conference room and, behind that, two sleeping cabins, each with its own bathroom.

Dino shook his head. "The wages of sin," he said under his breath, avoiding Stone's glance.

As if from a great distance, there was the sound of jet engines revving, and almost imperceptiby, the big airplane began to move.

Copyright © 2000 by Stuart Woods. All rights reserved.

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