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to her mother, then drew in someone else. “Adam, I don’t know if you’ve met Richard Fairchild.”
    Again Adam shook hands, recognizing the attorney. “I believe we’ve passed in the courthouse halls. Good to see you, Richard.”
    A staunch Democrat, Richard smiled at the candidate. For some time Joseph had been talking up Adam. Richard decided that McKenzie
     would be a good man to get to know. “Glad to finally meet you. I was very impressed with the speeches tonight.”
    The talk drifted to the campaign and then to Adam’splatform. He answered the questions politely, curbing his impatience, waiting for that momentary lull in the conversation.
     Finally it came. “I wonder if you’d excuse us,” he asked, his apologetic smile taking in all three of them as he touched Liz’s
     elbow. “I need to discuss something with my aide.”
    “Certainly,” Joseph answered immediately, then leaned to kiss his daughter’s cheek. “Be careful,” he murmured.
    “More business yet tonight?” Katherine Townsend asked, raising a brow.
    Adam noticed that Richard seemed a little put out, but the man was too polite to object. “Yes, I’m afraid so.” He looked down
     at Liz. “Do you mind?”
    As surprised as the rest of them, she shook her head.
    “Great. Good night,” he said to the others, then headed for the double doors. Several people tried to interrupt them, but
     Adam quickly shook a hand or gave a nod in passing, then lengthened his strides until Liz was having difficulty keeping up
     with him in her high heels. In the sedate lobby, they stepped onto the plush red-and-gold carpet on their way to the front
     door.
    “What is it?” she asked. “Where are we going?”
    He sent her a mysterious smile. “I have a lady I want you to meet.”
    The name painted on the speedboat was
Jezebel,
and she was twenty-six feet of fiberglass skimming along the serene dark waters of San Diego Bay under a moon that was mere
     inches from being full. Having stripped off his jacket and tie, Adam held the wheel lightly and turned to the woman beside
     him. “So, what do you think of her?”
    The wind was tossing Liz’s hair about, and she loved it. There was no fog tonight, just the lingering heat of the day. She
     smiled up at him. “She’s a beauty.”
    He’d escorted her to his red Datsun 280-Z and refused to disclose their destination until they’d reached the MissionBay Yacht Club, where he kept his boat moored. Moving with the ease of a man who loved the sea, he quickly had them under
     way. Liz slipped off her shoes and leaned on the teakwood railing.
    Adam let up on the throttle as they approached the curve nearing La Jolla. They were just far enough out that they could see
     the lights and make out some buildings in the distance yet not hear the city noises. He cut the engine and let the boat settle,
     then drift on the calm sea. Joining Liz at the railing, he slipped his arm around her waist. “I love the quiet out here.”
    “Mmm, I can see why.” She inhaled the clean scent of the sea. “This could get addictive.” The gentle swaying was soothing,
     like being on a favorite rocking chair.
    “I would imagine your father has a boat.” Joseph Townsend struck Adam as a sportsman, a man who took risks and lived life
     fully. He’d also overheard her father’s whispered words to Liz and wondered why Joseph had thought the warning necessary.
    “He does. A sailboat. My mother gets violently seasick, so she never goes out. I used to sail with him a lot before college.
     But sailing’s a lot of work. There’s always a line to tie or a sail to tend. This is far more relaxing, I think.”
    He drew her back to the couch along the rear. “I’ve got some soft drinks in the refrigerator in the galley.” But he didn’t
     stock either wine or booze, well aware he couldn’t afford to drink and drive.
    “I’m not thirsty, but thanks.” Shaking out her hair, she leaned her head back to look at the stars.
    “See