“Oh, that’s right. You’re going to be pretty busy, aren’t you?”

“Not if the caterers don’t want to get fired. They’re turning up at five, and I’ll show them the kitchens and where to set up. After that, they’d better not bother me because I’ll be partying.”

“Well, I think your plan for the day sounds good. I’ll join you, if that’s all right.”

“It’s all right,” she said. “By the way, do you need to rent a dinner jacket? I know a place.”

“Nope. I brought one, just in case.”

“Always prepared, aren’t you?” She finished off her omelette, took his plate, poured him a large mug of coffee and stood up. “I’ll get this stuff back to the galley, and I’ll see you on the afterdeck later.”

“Okay.” Stone watched her go, then he got up, showered, put on a swimsuit, grabbed a terry robe from the closet and walked back to the fantail. Callie was already stretched out on a chaise, wearing only her bikini bottom, reading.

“Hi, want something good to read?”

“Sure.”

She tossed him a book. “I just finished it. It’s great.”

Stone looked at the book: Tumult by Frederick James. “Oh, yes, I read some pages yesterday. Starts well.”

“Ends well, too. Enjoy.”

Stone read through the morning, broke for sandwiches and closed the book at five.

“Good?”

“Good.”

“Thad liked it, too. He had me send the author an invitation to the party tonight, but we never heard from him. I guess his publisher didn’t forward it.” She looked at her watch. “I’ve got to get over to the house and brief the caterers,” she said. “I’ll see you at the party.”

“Think I’ll have a nap,” Stone said. He went back to his cabin and slept for half an hour, then he shaved, showered and dressed in Vance Calder’s ecru raw silk dinner jacket, a silk evening shirt and a black tie. He walked back to the house and through the central hallway, dodging frantic caterers and decorators, got into his borrowed Mercedes E430 convertible and drove into town. Shortly, he pulled up in front of Liz Harding’s house. He walked across the driveway, his evening shoes crunching on the pea gravel. The doorbell was set in an intercom box. He pressed it and it made a noise like a telephone ringing.

“Hello?”

“It’s Stone.”

“Oh, Stone. The door’s unlocked; let yourself in, and I’ll be down in a few minutes.”