"Fine. But you'd better grow some b.a.l.l.s and talk to him before the end of this vacation. If I have to listen to his vacuous wifelette gush one more time about how grateful grateful she is for my she is for my incredible friendship, incredible friendship, I can't be held responsible for my actions." I can't be held responsible for my actions."

John Merrivale thought sadly, Grace Grace is is grateful for your friendship. Poor, misguided girl. grateful for your friendship. Poor, misguided girl.

Lenny was a lucky man. Wives like Grace were one in a million.

"PLEASE DON'T STAND ON CEREMONY, EVERYONE. Dig in!" Dig in!"

Grace felt unaccountably nervous. The dinner itself looked fabulous. Felicia had excelled herself as usual. The lobster bisque smelled exquisite and was the perfect shade of pale pink, the roast lamb looked mouthwateringly succulent on its bed of organic greens and the raspberry Pavlova was as much a sculpture as a dessert, a towering triumph of snow-white meringue and blood-red berries. Caroline couldn't fail to be delighted.

And yet Grace could not enjoy her triumph. Earlier that day she'd seen Connie talking heatedly with Lenny on the beach, then storming off close to tears. When Grace caught up with her sister and asked her what was wrong, Connie had shrugged her away angrily.

"It's Michael," Lenny explained. "He's depressed. They're going through so much stress right now, honey, you mustn't take it personally."

But Grace did take it personally. Not four hours earlier, Honor had bitten her head off, too. All Grace did was ask if she wanted to come to the spa.

"Not everything in this life can be fixed by a f.u.c.king ma.s.sage, Gracie, okay? Christ, is that your answer to everything? To spend more money pampering yourself?"

Grace was deeply hurt. She wasn't a materialistic person. Honor, of all people, should know that. In fairness, Honor had had apologized afterward. "It's Jack. He's got so much on his mind lately, I think some of the stress is rubbing off on me." Grace forgave her and they made up. But still, a lingering anxiety remained. Perhaps she was imagining it, but it seemed to Grace that there was an almost palpable tension around the dinner table tonight. apologized afterward. "It's Jack. He's got so much on his mind lately, I think some of the stress is rubbing off on me." Grace forgave her and they made up. But still, a lingering anxiety remained. Perhaps she was imagining it, but it seemed to Grace that there was an almost palpable tension around the dinner table tonight.

They're all unhappy. Even Lenny. I want to make them happy, but I can't.

"The soup's ambrosial, Grace. Nice job." Mike Gray grinned at his sister-in-law.

"Thanks." She smiled back. He doesn't look depressed to me. He doesn't look depressed to me.

Maria Preston said snidely, "Indeed, your chef is to be congratulated. He must have worked like a slave all day to produce this feast."

Andrew Preston blushed. Not even Grace Brookstein was stupid enough to miss a blatant dig like that. He wished Maria would get a grip on herself, but after a few gla.s.ses of wine she was lethal. It was bad enough that she'd insisted on coming to dinner in a lavish Roberto Cavalli evening gown, slashed to the thigh and wildly inappropriate for the occasion.

"Maria, cara. cara. Everyone else will be in jeans or simple sundresses. You look stunning, my angel, as always. But couldn't you..." Everyone else will be in jeans or simple sundresses. You look stunning, my angel, as always. But couldn't you..."

"No, Andy. I couldn't. I am not 'everyone else.' 'Aven't you learned this by now?"

Grace was too polite to rise to Maria's bait. Lenny had no such qualms.

"Our chef is a 'she' actually. Felicia." His tone was measured. "And she does work hard, though I'd hardly call her a slave. Last year I paid her considerably more than I paid your husband, Maria."

Andrew's blush deepened. Maria glared at him in silent fury.

Grace wished the ground would open up and swallow her. She hated confrontation. Lenny, on the other hand, had grown tired of walking on eggsh.e.l.ls.

"Senator Warner," he said brightly. "You're awfully quiet this evening. What's the problem, Jack? Not in the party spirit?"

If looks could kill, Lenny Brookstein would have dropped dead at the table.

"Not really, Lenny, no. Unemployment rates in my const.i.tuency are about to reach ten percent. While we're sitting around your table, enjoying this fine food and wine, the people who voted for me are having their homes repossessed. They're losing their jobs, their health insurance, their hope. And they're relying on me me to try to fix things for them. So, no, I'm not really in a party mood. If you'll excuse me." to try to fix things for them. So, no, I'm not really in a party mood. If you'll excuse me."

Honor watched in horror as Jack got up from the table and left the room. He'd finally come clean about his gambling debts last night. As a result, Honor hadn't slept a wink. It was exhaustion that had made her lose her temper with Grace earlier, something she'd been kicking herself about all day. Not because she gave a d.a.m.n about Grace's feelings. But because the entire purpose of this trip was to try to get closer to Grace so she could use her influence with Lenny to get him to help Jack.

Last night Jack had yelled at her. "I need need Lenny Brookstein! Without that money, I'm finished, do you understand? Lenny Brookstein! Without that money, I'm finished, do you understand? We're We're finished." finished."

Honor did understand. But now here was Jack, storming off like a spoiled child, embarra.s.sing them both in front of everyone.

"I'd better go after him," she said meekly. "Sorry, Grace. Lenny."

The dinner party limped on. After the Warners' departure, everyone made an effort to be upbeat, but Jack and Honor's empty chairs were like two ghosts at the feast. John Merrivale made a toast, thanking Grace for the meal, but his stammer got so bad halfway through that Caroline had to finish it for him. Connie left before dessert, citing a headache. By the time the maid brought the coffee, the forced smiles of the remaining guests were beginning to look like lockjaw.

In bed with Lenny afterward, Grace broke down in tears.

"It was a disaster, wasn't it? Why does everything come back to the stupid economy? Connie and Michael losing their house, Jack stressed out about unemployment."

"I don't think that's all he's stressed about, sweetheart."

"Even Caroline and Maria were moaning at the hairdressers' about how much less John and Andrew are making this year. I hate it."

Lenny was furious. "Maria and Caroline were b.i.t.c.hing to you? Are you kidding me? They're lucky their husbands still have jobs. The SEC is all over us like lice."

Grace gasped. "You're under investigation?"

"Don't worry, honey, it's nothing. A s.h.i.t storm in a teacup. They're looking at all the big hedge funds right now. The point is, these are tough times, and Quorum's survived them because of me. me. Which means those ungrateful b.i.t.c.hes' husbands have survived it because of me." Which means those ungrateful b.i.t.c.hes' husbands have survived it because of me."

"Please, darling," Grace sobbed. "Don't get angry. I shouldn't have said anything. I can't take any more fighting tonight. Really, I can't take it."

Lenny took her in his arms.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I've been a bit of a Grinch on this trip, haven't I?"

Grace nestled closer to his body. She always felt safe and happy pressed against him.

"I tell you what. Tomorrow morning, I'll get up early and take the boat out by myself. Sailing always clears my head. By the time I come home, I'll be so relaxed, you won't recognize me."

"Sounds good." Grace began drifting off to sleep.

Later, she would try to remember the exact words that Lenny had said next. It was so hard to untangle dream from reality. What she thought thought she heard was, "Whatever happens, Gracie, I love you." But maybe she dreamed it. All she knew for sure was that she'd fallen asleep that night happy. she heard was, "Whatever happens, Gracie, I love you." But maybe she dreamed it. All she knew for sure was that she'd fallen asleep that night happy.

For the last time.

SIX.

JOHN M MERRIVALE TIGHTENED HIS SEAT BELT and closed his eyes as the six-seater, twin-engine plane shuddered its way up through the clouds. A nervous flier at the best of times, he was terrified of these little puddle jumpers. It was like trusting your life to a lawn mower. and closed his eyes as the six-seater, twin-engine plane shuddered its way up through the clouds. A nervous flier at the best of times, he was terrified of these little puddle jumpers. It was like trusting your life to a lawn mower.

"Don't worry." The woman next to him smiled amiably. "It's always b.u.mpy first thing in the morning, before the sun burns through the clouds."

John Merrivale thought, Can sun burn through clouds?, Can sun burn through clouds?, then smiled at himself for being so philosophical, today of all days. then smiled at himself for being so philosophical, today of all days.

If the lawn mower didn't fail them, they would land in Boston in twenty-five minutes.

It was 6:15 A.M. A.M.

AT 8:15 8:15 A.M A.M., ANDREW P PRESTON TOOK his seat on a different airplane. The hundred-seater Fokker 100 was only two-thirds full. his seat on a different airplane. The hundred-seater Fokker 100 was only two-thirds full. I guess not a lot of people fly to New York from Nantucket on a Tuesday morning. They all left yesterday. I guess not a lot of people fly to New York from Nantucket on a Tuesday morning. They all left yesterday.

He had mixed feelings when he got the call late last night, telling him he was needed urgently back at the office. Peter Finch, the head of the SEC investigative team looking into Quorum's accounts, wanted some "face time." Andrew dreaded the meeting. He could think of no good reason why Finch would summon him back to New York, and quite a few bad ones. On the other hand, being away from the office made him feel hideously out of control. He believed he'd covered his tracks, but these SEC b.a.s.t.a.r.ds were like bloodhounds.

In any case, he needed to get out of Nantucket. That guest cottage was starting to feel like a prison. After her public humiliation at dinner last night, Maria had flown into a hysterical fury, swearing and screaming at Andrew, even attacking him physically. Rolling up his sleeve now, he could still see the livid red scratch marks from her nails.

"How dare dare you allow Lenny Brookstein to treat us like that! He made a complete fool of me, and you sat by and did nothing." you allow Lenny Brookstein to treat us like that! He made a complete fool of me, and you sat by and did nothing."

Andrew fought back the urge to tell Maria that it was she who had started it, by trying to make a fool of Grace. Instead, he said, "What would you have me do? He's my boss, boss, Maria. He pays our bills." Maria. He pays our bills."

"Barely! He pays you less than his G.o.dd.a.m.n cook. Didn't you hear what he said? Doesn't that bother you?"

Andrew had heard. And it did bother him. He was 90 percent sure that Lenny was joking. If the chef was making more than he was, she was certainly overpaid. But it wasn't unheard of for Lenny's generosity to prompt some peculiar decisions. He tried to reason with himself. Why should I care what Lenny pays somebody else? It's his money, after all. He can do what he likes with it. Why should I care what Lenny pays somebody else? It's his money, after all. He can do what he likes with it. But it still rankled. Perhaps, on some subconscious level, it justified what Andrew had done. But it still rankled. Perhaps, on some subconscious level, it justified what Andrew had done.

Maria was pa.s.sed out cold when he left her this morning, exhausted from her drunken rage. When she woke up, she'd have a horrific hangover. Andrew didn't want to be within a hundred miles of her when that happened. Now he wouldn't have to be.

"Cabin crew, please be seated for takeoff."

Closing his eyes, Andrew Preston tried to relax.

GRACE MET HER SISTERS FOR LUNCH at the Cliffside Beach Club. at the Cliffside Beach Club.

After their awkward encounter the day before, Connie went out of her way to be solicitous to Grace, even presenting her with a beautiful guava-pink seash.e.l.l she'd discovered on the beach that morning.

"I know it's not much, but I thought it would look pretty on your dressing table."

Grace was touched. She knew how difficult Connie found apologies. The sh.e.l.l said more than any words.

Honor asked, "Are Caroline and Maria joining us?"

In a cream J.Crew sundress that washed her out, with her hair sc.r.a.ped back in a ponytail, Honor looked exhausted. Grace wondered if she and Jack had fought last night after Jack stormed out of the dining room, but was too tactful to ask.

"I don't think so. Caroline's in town looking at a painting. And Maria's still asleep, I believe."

The sisters exchanged glances. "I wonder what she wears to bed?" Connie giggled. "Spun-gold Versace pajamas?"

It was a nice, light moment. Grace finally started to relax.

The waitress came and took their order. They were sitting at an outdoor table, right on the beach, but by the time their appetizers arrived, storm clouds had begun to gather.

The manager appeared. "Would you like to move indoors, Mrs. Brookstein? I have a lovely table by the window I can offer you ladies." At that instant a loud clap of thunder made everyone jump. Seconds later, the first heavy drops of rain began to splash onto the table.

"Yes, please," said Grace, laughing. She thought about Lenny, out on the boat. I hope he's safe and dry in the cabin, not out on deck catching his death of a cold. I hope he's safe and dry in the cabin, not out on deck catching his death of a cold.

IT WAS ALMOST FOUR BY THE time the three sisters arrived home. By that time, the storm was in full force. Michael Gray met them at the front door. time the three sisters arrived home. By that time, the storm was in full force. Michael Gray met them at the front door.

"Thank goodness you're back," he said, hugging Connie tightly.

"We only went for lunch at the club, honey." She laughed. "Why so panicked?"

"I didn't know where you were, that's all. I thought you might have gone sailing with Jack. The conditions are awful out there."

"Jack's gone sailing?" Honor's white face turned even whiter. "Are the girls with him?"

"No," said Michael. "Don't worry. Bobby and Rose are playing Chutes and Ladders with our boys in the kitchen. They're a little bored, but other than that, they're fine."

"And Jack? Has anyone heard from him?"

"His radio's down."

Honor's knees started shaking. Jack had been an avid sailor since his teens, but a storm like this would test anybody's skill, even his.

"It's okay," said Michael. "The coast guard thinks they've located him. We should hear more soon. It's been crazy out there, you can imagine, but they're trying to get everybody back to harbor. Come on in out of the rain."

"What about Lenny?"

Connie and Honor had moved inside, but Grace stood frozen on the front path. Rain dripped from her hair and the tip of her nose. She looked about twelve years old.

Michael Gray frowned. "Lenny? I thought he was at the golf club. That's what he told the staff here when he left this morning."

Because he wanted to be alone. He didn't want you or Jack to invite yourselves along.

"No." Grace was shaking. "He's on the boat."

"Did he take any crew?"

"No. I don't think so."