He held her back and looked at her. “You can read your obituary in the Times in a couple of days, I expect.”
She smiled. “Well, that will be fun. I’d just as soon be dead for a little while. I have a lot to do, and I can do it better without a lot of reporters and cameras around. Promise me you’ll keep my secret until you hear from me.”
“I think that comes under the heading of attorney-client confidentiality.”
“Don’t tell even Hilary Kramer and Jim Forrester. They’d spill the beans.”
“As you wish.”
She looked at her watch. “I have to get going; I’ve got a long way to travel.”
He got out of bed and walked into the saloon with her, switching on the chart table light. “Your duffel is over there,” he said, indicating the sofa.
She went and picked it up. “Thanks; a girl can’t get far without her makeup.”
He picked up the envelope on the chart table and began to open it, but she took it from him and put it back.
“Not now,” she said. “You can do that when I’m gone. Right now, you have to kiss me good-bye.” She put her arms around his waist, pressed her body against his, and kissed him for a long time.
“You sure you have to rush off?” he breathed in her ear.
“I wish I didn’t, but I do. I’ll make it up to you later.”
“I’ll hold you to that.”
“Stone,” she said, an uncertainty creeping into her voice, “that envelope contains my last wishes; I want you to promise me that you’ll honor them in every respect, as if I really were dead.”
“All right, I promise.”
She kissed him again. “The days and nights I spent with you on this boat were among the happiest of my life. Remember that, too.”
“How could I forget it?”
She kissed him again, grabbed the duffel, and ran up the companionway stairs.
He followed her on deck and watched her get back into the Boston Whaler, which putted slowly away from the yacht. He didn’t hear the engine rev up until it was out of sight around a corner of the harbor.
Stone went back below, went to the bar, and poured himself a brandy. His heart was still beating very fast, and he was going to have to wind down a bit if he expected to get any sleep that night. He sat down at the chart table and picked up Allison’s envelope, ripping it open. Inside were a letter, some papers, and a U.S. Coast Guard yacht document. He picked up the letter.
Dear Stone,
With any luck, there should be a happy ending to all this. Don’t be mad at Leslie; I swore him to silence. I’ve paid his fee, and yours is in the envelope with this letter.
I will be very angry if you feel I’m being foolish, and I don’t want to hear a word about it from you. This all feels very right to me.
The yacht, Expansive, is yours now, to do with what you will. Unfortunately, Libby’s dear old mother is yours, too, and you can handle that situation as you see fit.
Whatever happens, wherever I go, I will always be grateful to you for the time we spent together and for all your hard work. I hope next year you can have a better sailing vacation.
With great affection,
Allison
Stone put down the letter and went through the other documents. There was one conveying the yacht to him as his fee for legal services, and the Coast Guard, U.S. Customs, and State of Connecticut documents were all signed, notarized, and in perfect order.
Stone took a stiff gulp of brandy. Now he would never get any sleep on this night.
Chapter