Stuart Woods’ Deep Water (Stone Barrington #67)

Chapter 1

Sixty miles south of Long Island Sound, late.

“Would you like one?” Trenton Sidney asked, his hand hovering over the cigar box. “They’re Cuban. Picked them up myself last week.”

“Tempting, but I’ll pass,” Stone Barrington said.

Trenton pulled out a cigar, cut the end, and lit it.

The two men were on the upper deck outside the dining room of Trenton’s new yacht, the Amanda Jae. He’d commissioned its construction two years ago and had finally taken possession of the boat a week earlier.

Trenton had not been born to a wealthy family but had earned his fortune through hard work and keen instincts.

The company he’d started had specialized in cloud storage, before cloud storage had become the norm.

His focus on superior technology had translated into quick success, and it wasn’t long before the company had become an acquisition target for several of the big players.

When all was said and done, Trenton had walked away with just under a billion dollars.

He had since more than doubled that amount by becoming an angel investor in several successful start-ups.

Stone was a partner at the prestigious law firm Woodman & Weld and had assisted Trenton with several legal matters, both business and personal.

Through their dealings, they had developed a friendship.

Which was why Trenton had invited Stone on the Amanda Jae’s maiden voyage.

This was the second of two planned nights at sea, and they would be heading back to port in the morning.

One of the crew members stepped onto the deck, carrying two glasses of cognac.

“Ah, perfect timing,” Trenton said. “Is that the De Luze?”

“Yes, sir,” the steward said and set the drinks on the table between the two men. “Will there be anything else?”

“That’ll be all for now, thank you.” After the crew member left, Trenton said, “I don’t think I’ve told you this, but when I was a kid, my dream was to own a yacht like this.”

Stone lifted his glass. “To a dream achieved.”

They took a drink.

As Stone set his cognac down, he was hit with a momentary spell of lightheadedness.

“Are you okay?” Trenton asked.

“Just a little tired, I think,” Stone said, then stood. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to call it a night.”

“Not at all. I’ll see you at breakfast.”

“Sounds good.”

Stone headed inside to the lounge. He was halfway across the room when the dizziness returned with a vengeance. He pressed a hand against the wall and squeezed his eyes shut, hoping the spell would pass.

“Do you need assistance, Mr. Barrington?”

It took a moment for the question to register. He blinked and turned to the voice.

The steward was hurrying toward him, looking concerned.

“I’m not feeling too well,” Stone said, his voice suddenly weak.

“Here,” the man said as he slipped an arm around Stone’s back. “Let me help you to your room.”

Before Stone could even say thank you, everything went black.

Stone opened his eyes, then immediately closed them again as a wave of pain rushed through his head.

As it subsided, he became aware that he was lying on what seemed to be a bed.

He felt like he’d had too much to drink but couldn’t remember having done so. Even if he had been drinking, it had been years since he’d had enough to black out. It just wasn’t something he did.

Before he could guess what might have happened, his eyes shot open as the bed lurched, sending him tumbling to the floor.

“What the hell?” he said.

Gravity was trying to roll him toward the wall opposite his bed.

His eyes whipped around the room in confusion.

This wasn’t his bedroom in Turtle Bay, nor was it one in any of his other homes.

It looked more like a room on—

A boat.

That’s right. He was on the Amanda Jae. But the Amanda Jae was not a sailboat, which would have explained the tilt.

Stone struggled to his feet, then staggered to the door and out into the corridor. Water sloshed across the floor as more poured in from somewhere unseen.

He stumbled to the stairs, then hurried up them and out onto the deck.

The Amanda Jae was already listing so far to starboard that the edge of the deck was only a few hand lengths from the ocean’s surface.

Stone looked around for Trenton and the crew, but the deck was deserted.

His eyes alighted on a bench seat, below which was a sign that read: Life Vests.

He wrenched the seat upward, grabbed one of the vests, and pulled it over his head. Once it was secured, he headed back to the stairwell, intending to alert anyone he could find.

He was but a few steps away when the yacht lurched again. His hand ripped free from the railing, and he somersaulted through the air and into the ocean.

For several seconds, he had no idea which way was up. When his head finally broke the surface, the yacht was at least a dozen yards away and drifting farther from him.

His immediate instinct was to try to get back to it, but he stopped himself. The starboard edge of the main deck was now below water, and it wouldn’t be long before the entire boat was consumed. If he was anywhere near it when that happened, he might get pulled under with it.

So instead of returning to the yacht, he swam in the other direction, until he felt he was far enough away.

From there, a short time later, he watched the Amanda Jae disappear into the deep, dark sea.