Swimming to Catalina (Stone Barrington 4)

“Pretty young for retirement, aren’t you? The knee have something to do with it? I saw the surgical scar.”

“Yep.”

“You’ve got a New York driver’s license.”

“Yeah, I’m just a visitor to L.A.”

“Speaking as a native Californian, I’d like to apologize for the reception; we usually treat tourists better.”

“Apology accepted.”

“What yacht were you headed for when you…took the detour?”

“I don’t know her name; she’s probably big, though.”

“We were ashore for dinner, and on the way back to the boat we passed something of about a hundred and fifty feet called Contessa. Could that be her?”

“Could be.”

“She was the only really big thing in the anchorage; nothing else over eighty, ninety feet.”

“Contessa,” Stone repeated. He wanted to remember that. “What sort of boat am I on?”

“A Catalina Thirty-five, elderly.”

“She’s nicely kept,”, Stone said, looking around, “but I think your masthead light is out.”

“You’re right; I haven’t taken the time to go up and replace it.”

“I didn’t see her coming,” Stone said, rubbing his forehead.

“You’ve got a bump there.”

“It’ll go away.”

Helford handed Stone a sandwich and another cup of soup. “Something I need to ask you,” he said.

“Shoot.”

“Am I involved in something illegal here?”

“No. You just thwarted something illegal.”

“You’re a lawyer, according to your business card; should I be hiring a lawyer?”

Stone shook his head. “No need. The sandwich is wonderful.”

“Thanks. You’re sure I’m not going to be in any difficulties because of your problem?”

“Positive. You’re a Good Samaritan, and that’s it.”

“You said something about wanting to be dead.”

“No, I am dead, and I want to stay that way for a while.”

“So that whoever did this to you won’t try to do it again?”

“They’re not going to get a chance to do it again. It’s just that what I have to do now will be easier if they think they don’t have to worry about me.”