“She asked where he was in school, but I dodged that one.”

“What else?”

“She asked where I’m living, and I said in New York, then I made an excuse and got off the phone.”

“I think that was a good idea,” Stone said. “I think this rumor may be a fiction and that Wheaton is the one who’s interested. Why would a gossip columnist warn you that another gossip columnist is interested in you? This doesn’t pass the smell test.”

“What should we do?” Arrington asked.

“Let me make a couple of calls,” Stone said, “then we’ll make a plan.”

“What sort of plan?”

“I don’t know yet, but we don’t want to be caught off guard if she calls again, or if someone else does.”

“I see.”

“Did you confirm where and when the wedding took place and that the mayor performed the ceremony?”

“No, but I didn’t deny it, either.”

“For somebody like Wheaton, the lack of a denial is as good as a confirmation. You go upstairs and lie down, and don’t answer the phone for a while. Let Joan deal with it.”

Arrington stood up, and they hugged. “Thank you for being so calm,” she said. She got into the elevator and went upstairs.

Stone called Bill Eggers. “Do you know Prunella Wheaton?”

“In a manner of speaking,” Eggers said. “I’ve been at a couple of dinner parties where she happened to be, but I’ve always tried to bore her rigid when she tried to talk to me. Sometimes being boring is the best defense with somebody like that.”

“Wheaton has caught wind of our wedding and its circumstances. Apparently, she’s afraid to mention Eduardo, but we might see the mayor’s presiding in print.”

“He won’t like that,” Eggers said. “Rupert Murdoch will get an earful.”

“Wheaton knew Vance Calder, and she met Arrington once. She was digging for information about us and Peter. I figure we’re covered on the birth certificate, but I’d like for you or someone to call Peter’s old school and warn them about giving out any information about him, especially his age.”

“I see where you’re going,” Eggers said. “I’ll take care of it, and I’ll talk to the attorney in Virginia who’s handling the name change.”

“Good, Bill, I appreciate that.”

“Do you want me to have someone call Wheaton?”

“No, don’t do that; it will just pique her interest.”

“Right.”

Stone hung up and called Joan in. “Arrington got a call from Prunella Wheaton today,” he said.

“That old bat? What did she want?”

“She said she’d heard a rumor that someone is prying into our lives, but I think that she’s the one doing the prying.”

“If she calls back, I’ll squash her like a bug,” Joan said.

“No, don’t do that. Put on your sweet act.”

“What sweet act?”

“The one you use when you want something from somebody you hate.”

“But I don’t want anything from her; it’s the other way around.”

“Exactly.”

“Oh.”

“Arrington is always out shopping or at a meeting or taking a nap, or something. Always take her number, but we won’t call back. Be careful about giving her any information at all.”