Cover

Title Page

Dedication

This book is for the saints
of Washington, Connecticut,
Paul and Joan Marks

Chapter
1

Stone Barrington slowly opened his eyes and stared blearily at the pattern of moving light above him. Disoriented, he tried to make sense of the light. Then it came to him: he was aboard a yacht, and the light was reflected off the water.

He sat up and rubbed his eyes. The night before had been the stuff of bad dreams; he never wanted to have another like it. The nightmare had started at Kennedy Airport, when his live-in girlfriend, Arrington Carter, had not shown up for the flight. She was supposed to come directly from the magazine office where she had been meeting with an editor, but she had not arrived.

Stone had found a phone and had tracked down Arrington, still at The New Yorker.

“Hello?” she said.

Stone glanced at his watch. “I guess you’re not going to make the plane,” he said. “It leaves in twenty minutes.”

“Stone, I’m so sorry; I’ve been having you paged at the terminal. Didn’t you hear the page?”

He tried to keep his voice calm. “No, I didn’t.”

“Everything has exploded here. I took the proposal for the profile on Vance Calder to Tina Brown, and she went for it instantly. Turns out she had tried and tried to do a piece with Vance when she was at Vanity Fair, and he would never cooperate.”

“That’s wonderful,” he said tonelessly. “I’m happy for you.”

“Look, darling, Vance is coming into New York tomorrow, and I’ve got to introduce him to Tina at lunch, there’s just no getting around it.”

“I see,” he replied.

“Don’t worry, I’m already booked on the same flight tomorrow. You go ahead to St. Marks, take delivery of the boat, put in some provisions, and get gloriously drunk. I’ll be there by midnight.”

“All right,” he said.

“Oh,” she sighed, “I’m so relieved you’re not angry. I know you can see what a break this is for me. Vance hasn’t sat still for an in-depth interview for more than twenty years. Tina says she’ll bump up the printing for the anticipated increase in newsstand sales.”

“That’s great,” he said, making an effort to sound glad for her. “I’ll meet you at the St. Marks airport tomorrow night, then.”

“Oh, don’t do that; just sit tight, and I’ll grab a cab.” She lowered her voice. “And when I get there, sweetie, try and be well rested, because I’m going to bounce you off the bedsprings a whole lot; you read me?”

“I read you loud and clear. I’d better run; they’ve almost finished boarding. And remember, we’ve only got the boat for ten days; don’t waste any more.”