“I did enough of that yesterday,” Dino said. “I’ll take the boat.”

Chris and Dustin were waiting for them, and they did a quick review of checking fluids and the starting procedure, then they cast off and started downriver with Gala at the helm and Dino watching her like a hawk. As they neared the mouth of the river another boat passed them, going in the opposite direction. Gala ducked and asked Dino to take the helm, and they exchanged seats.

“Something wrong?” Stone asked.

“That other boat—there were two men on it, and I know one of them.”

“Who is he?”

“His name is Kharzy, big fellow with a bald head. He sometimes works for Boris.”

“Did you see Boris aboard?”

“I saw the back of one other man, but I don’t think it was Boris. If he’s aboard, he must be below.”

Stone moved her to a cabin seat then took the seat next to Dino. “Are you armed?” he asked.

“Always,” Dino replied. “Shall I stand by to repel boarders?”

“I don’t know if they saw Gala. Let’s see if they turn around.” Stone watched as the boat continued up the river. He got out his cell phone.

“Good morning, Windward Hall.”

“Geoffrey, it’s Mr. Barrington. There is a boat headed upriver that may contain the gentleman who called last night. Please go down to the dock and refuse them permission to land. If they attempt to land, call the police and tell them we have intruders who are making a nuisance of themselves.”

“Right away, sir.”

“Please keep me posted on the outcome.”

“Certainly, sir.” They both hung up.

“Now, let’s get out of here, so that when they come back we’ll already be in Cowes.” He shoved the throttles forward, and they were soon doing thirty knots up the Solent. When they were out of sight of the Beaulieu River, Stone got out his phone and called the yacht club.

“Good morning, Royal Yacht Squadron.”

“Good morning, this is Stone Barrington. I’m a new member.”

“Of course, Mr. Barrington, we’re looking forward to seeing you at the Castle.”

“I’m motoring on the Solent at the moment, headed your way. May I book lunch for five people, dressed in sailing clothes?”

“Of course, sir. We’ll be serving in the pavilion, behind the Castle.”

“Half an hour?”

“Very good, sir.”

“May we dock at the Squadron Marina?”

“Of course, sir. I’ll let the dockmaster know. What size yacht are you?”

“A forty-three-foot motor yacht, beam is fourteen feet six inches, and we draw twenty-eight inches. Her name is Indian Summer.”

“Very good, sir. We’ll see you soon.”

Stone slowed as they approached the Castle and pulled into the marina. A boatman was waiting to take their lines, and they were soon made fast.