Hawk, having been pacing the sidewalk a short distance away, came up alongside her. “Hurry up, baby, we’ve got a tide to catch.”
“Dee —” Devlin’s voice rose. “Who was that―are you on a fling?”
“No, of course not. That was just…the captain. He talks like that to everybody. Sort of.”
“Are you alone with him?”
“No, Dev, I’m not.”
“Well, it’s a good thing. Because if somebody like you can fall for that stuff, I’ll lose my faith in humanity. By the way, what am I supposed to do with the Caribbean thing? It’s all set.”
“Give it to Scotty. He was upset with me for beating him to Wyngate anyway. Maybe it’ll soothe some ruffled feathers.”
“Maybe I’ll have to use it for my own ruffled feathers. After nine years, that ungrateful bum walked out on me without even giving a notice.”
“What?”
“That’s right. I come in Monday morning and what do I get? A message from you that you went off on some cruise and my number one reporter packing up his desk. Had to have the carpenters in to patch the hole I punched in my own office wall. The guy really got to me.”
“Did he say where he was going?”
“He was like the silent Buddha. Possessed or something.”
“That doesn’t sound like Scotty.”
“Well, I got news for you, kid. That message you left on my machine? That didn’t sound like you, either.”
19
Overboard
“I am off,” I thought sadly, “and shall I ever get back?” ~ Nellie Bly
“I think Scott Evans may be following us.” Dee tightened the drag on her fishing line.
The afternoon sun was beating down and the wind was so light that Pandora’s usual six knots had slowed down to three over a smooth, glassy sea.
Dee had donned the nearest yellow rain hat to keep the glare off her face and it was an unusual accessory to the white, lace-trimmed, cotton undergarment she was wearing. It was a one-piece, sleeveless affair that might have passed for a set of long underwear if the material wasn’t so light and the legs hadn’t barely reached her knees.
“Scott Evans?” Marion lowered the book she was reading and made a quick scan around the horizon from where she was sitting on the other side of the cockpit. “Dee, there isn’t another boat out there.”
“Not literally. He’s got the chart, so he doesn’t have to. But he doesn’t have the journal, so he won’t be far behind.”
“He certainly is the last person on earth I can picture doing something like this.” Marion picked up her book again and did a double-take when she glanced over at Dee. “Good grief, if you take anything else off you’re going to be indecent.”
“It’s blistering hot out here.”
“Then go change into something cool.”
“Hawk said if I left my watch one more time we were going to have a man overboard drill. And I wouldn’t put it past him. Besides”—she carefully reeled in a few feet of line—”it covers more than a bathing suit.”
“It’s the way it covers. You don’t want to be provocative do you? Suppose one of the guys woke up early?”
“Marion, for the last two nights of this heat spell, or whatever it is, I have been dragged up here in this very outfit because it’s the only cool thing I have to sleep in that’s decent.”
“Well, no wonder Hawk’s been showing more than a little interest. You can’t complain if you’re going to lead him on.”
“Don’t worry, I’m not his type.”
“His type is anything female, and I hope you realize that. In a situation like this you have to be doubly careful. Even if it means sleeping in your clothes.”
“I have been. But it’s been way too hot. Don’t worry. Neither of them will be coming up here anyway. This late afternoon watch when they’re both asleep is the only peace I get. I feel like I’m in the Navy.”
“More like the fishing fleet, with that hat on.”
“My nose is sunburned.”
Marion, who had only recently come on deck, was well equipped with sunglasses, a visor and a Hawaiian print shorts outfit. She returned her attentions to the book. She read a line she had already read twice and then closed it again. “I tell you, I just can’t picture Scotty doing something like this, he’s too much of a pansy. You know he used to ask for a copy of every recipe I collected for the coastal cooking column?”
“He still does. I figured he just likes to cook. A lot of men do, you know.”
“I sort of miss writing about food. I wonder if Devlin would let me come back on a part-time basis when I finish my novel. Do you still have the cooking column?”
“Yes, but I’d be glad to give it back to you because I’m overloaded.”
“I can’t picture Scotty stealing anything either.”
“Well, if you could have seen the way he acted when he found out I was going to blow the whistle on Wyngate…he didn’t seem the type to break into my house, go through my files, and steal the chart, but he did. Besides that, Devlin said he quit last Monday. Maybe he doesn’t mind boats so much, after all.”
“But remember the fuss he made about the fumes when they were painting his house? I think he’d get deadly sick on a sailboat.” Marion reached for a nearby bottle of tanning oil and began to spread some more over her legs. “And all by himself? Definitely not.”
“Maybe he isn’t by himself.” For the next few minutes there was only the steady click, click, click of Dee’s reel as she brought in more line. “He was snooping around Wyngate when I…” There was a snag, a sudden forceful yank, and her pole bent into a crescent curve over the rail. “I got a bite!”
“Oh, gads,” Marion replied with disgust. “I hope it isn’t another one of those grouper things like you pulled up yesterday.”
“No, this is bigger…it feels like…something really big!”
“That’s what you said yesterday.”
“Where’s your enthusiasm, Mare? We could be eating like royalty tonight.”
“Let me know when you pull up a tuna, then I’ll be interested.”
Dee couldn’t reel any more line and the tip of her pole seemed fastened to something solid instead of a lively fish. She peered over the side. “Nuts, I think I’m just caught in the propeller or something.” She reached over the rail and gave the line a tug “Yep. Stuck fast.”
“I don’t see how you could enjoy fishing so much when it’s mostly just false starts and jerks and getting the line tangled up every few minutes. How could you enjoy that?”
“I guess I had to learn to enjoy it. Or I would have spent my whole childhood relegated to baiting hooks for my brothers. I was raised on a lake, remember?”
“Why, Dee…” Marion put the cap back on the tanning oil. “I’ve just figured out your whole problem in life!”
“Hey, that sounds pretty serious. Hand me those little pliers out of the tackle box, will you? I don’t want to let go of this pole. It’s one of Starr’s expensive ones. He’d flip if I dropped it overboard.”
“You’ve been competing with men all your life.”
“That’s an understatement.”
“I mean, the reason you’re thirty-one and never bothered to get married. You’re too busy competing with men to ever fall for one.”
“I haven’t run into any worth falling for, Marion. That’s the problem.” The line went slack before she had time to snip it. “That’s funny…”
“It’s not funny it makes perfect sense.” Marion sat down beside Dee at the rail. “Don’t you see? Being raised in the country with four older brothers—brothers who had the chance to grow fit and strong and confident—It gave you too high a standard. Now that you live in the city, nobody has much of a chance at stacking up.”
Dee set the pliers aside and tried reeling in the line again. “It gave me a double standard. Like the way my brothers used to rough and tumble and do all kinds of fun stuff. But let me jump into anything close to a bra
wl, and—thwack! My brother James would wop me across the backside and say, ‘Dee-Dee!’ like I had just committed some mortal sin.”
“You’ve been on your own a long time, and I don’t notice you brawling with anybody. I’d say the opposite. The peacemaking type.”
“That’s the thing. By the time I got off by myself, it was too late to change. I tell you if my conscience had a face, it would look like James.” Her line slowed, resisted, and pulled to a tight stop again as soon as she locked the reel. “Gosh—I still have something on here!”
For the next few minutes Dee was totally engrossed in pulling and tugging, and trying to reel in, inch by inch, whatever the heavy weight was, that was now practically doubling her pole in half. At first, she was on her knees on the seat, and then she was standing with one foot braced against the rail for better leverage. “Get the—the net, Marion! I can’t hold him—up close for long―he’s―he’s too strong for me!”
Marion dutifully lifted the net out of a seat locker and took a position at the rail. But without any enthusiasm at all, since yesterday’s experience with the grouper had given her a sudden, cold drenching that dried to a salty stiffness on her skin.
“Here he comes―he’s coming! Are you ready, Mare?”
“Ready as I’ll ever be, I guess.”
“Head first—or he’ll swim right out!”
“OK, OK. But try not to let it splash so much this time, for heaven’s sakes. I really don’t―”
There was a jerk on the line, a tremendous thump and Dee lost her balance and toppled against the rail. She felt the pole begin to slip from her grasp. “Oh, no!” Her prize fish leapt through the water’s surface only a few feet away.
In the brief seconds before it splashed down again in a deluge of cold spray over the entire cockpit, it revealed itself to be fourteen feet of ugly, writhing, jaw-snapping shark.
Marion screamed. The very thought of trying to wrestle that angry head into three feet of net was out of the question, and she tossed the offending tool aside as if it had suddenly become too hot to hold.
Starr came charging up the ladder wearing nothing but a pair of red boxer shorts.
Hawk was following close behind and emerged just as the shark leapt one more time before making a deep, last ditch dive for the sea.
“Dee―let go!” Marion screamed.
“A blasted shark on my salmon pole!” Starr found pliers to cut the line.
“Where’s your safety line?” Hawk reached for Dee and missed, just as she was yanked, pole and all, over the side. “Grab the tow-line!” he called to her even as he snapped the jib sheets free of the winch locks to dump the sails at the same time. “It’s right behind you—swim for it!”
“No―the shark!” She flailed in a panic away from the boat. “The shark!”
Hawk swore and stepped up on the transom. “Turn her around, Starr.” And he dove over the stern.
“What do I do—what do I do?” Marion cried.
“Put the helm hard over while I get the rest of the sails down and start the motor.” Starr’s voice had the fear of death in it. “Don’t let them out of your sight—don’t take your eyes off them!”
If there had been more wind, the Pandora could have turned smartly and picked them up within minutes. Instead, she lumbered awkwardly, almost dead in the water, until Starr finally fired up the engine and maneuvered the yacht back around.
“I see Dee’s hat.” Marion pointed at the bit of yellow bobbing in the far-off distance. “But I can’t see Hawk at all.”
20
Honor Bound
“I commenced to review my life. How strange it all seems! One incident, if never so trifling, is but a link more to chain us to our unchangeable fate.” ~ Nellie Bly
Dee thrashed through the water, feeling it tug and push at her, as if its very substance were something alive, pulsating and trying to swallow her down. She was swimming strong and steadily along the surface, yet twice she gulped water when she opened her mouth to breathe. Unlike the placid waters of a lake, the sea was undulating up and down with a constant rhythm, lapping against her face and head from every direction.
Linked with the image of those snapping jaws that had seared into her mind, she was in a state near hysteria, and screamed at the sudden, terrifying feeling of being grabbed from behind. She kicked and struggled to get free.
“Hey, hold it—hold it!” Hawk swung her around to face him. “Where do you think you’re going, back to Frisco?”
“Hawk—oh, Hawk, the shark!”
“Forget the shark.” He hooked her around the waist with one arm and started to swim back toward Pandora with the other. “Just calm down and relax.”
“But―”
“Relax,” he said again. “Just lay back and float, or you’ll wear us both out before the boat gets turned around.”
“I can’t, I’ll sink!”
“No, you won’t, sugar.”
How could he sound so calm?
“Put your feet up and you’ll stay right on top. There…like that. Hardly any effort, see?”
“Don’t let go.”
“I’ve got you. Now we’re just going to move slow and easy. No hurries. We could do this all day if we had to.”
“But what if they…what if…”
“Don’t think about it. Just float.”
An engine came to life even though Dee could no longer see Pandora anywhere. Ten minutes later the sleek dark hull was slipping up alongside them.
Marion put the boarding ladder over the side, dragging Dee into the cockpit as soon as she emerged from the sea.
Starr cut the engine and let out his breath as if he had been holding it since they went into the water.
“That was too close! That was—” His mouth dropped open in an astonished stare when he was confronted by Dee’s clinging underclothes. “What kind of a get-up is that?”
Dee gasped and reached for the pink sweatshirt lying on the cushion where she’d left it.
Hawk ran a hand over his face to wipe the saltwater away, paused halfway through, and sighed so deeply it was almost a shudder. Then he went below without a word.
Dee felt her cold wetness soak into the dry sweatshirt she had thrown over her shoulders.
“He didn’t say anything,” she said to Marion. “He didn’t even yell at me.”
“You could have been killed!” Marion declared. “For the second time in three days, Dee Parker, you could have been killed! What if that shark had decided to eat you instead of dive down? And, Hawk—was amazing! He jumped right after you like there was no choice for him at all. I never saw anything like it!”
“I better at least go say thanks.” She untied the yellow southwester she had put on to shade her sunburnt nose, tossed it onto the seat, and headed down the companionway after him.
Hawk was in the galley, leaning with one hand on the counter and the other on an open bottle of brandy. There were drops of seawater dripping from his glistening hair, trickling down his tanned back and shoulders, running in rivulets from his cut-off jeans.
“Are you all right, Hawk?” she ventured.
“I will be in a minute.” He put the cap back on the bottle as if it took great effort to do so.
“I’d feel better if you’d yell at me.”
“That was too close, Dee. Too close!” He ran a hand through his wet hair. “I lost a friend like that a few years ago. Only by the time we got the boat turned around, we just…we just couldn’t find him. He waved to us as we drifted apart and we even tossed him a life ring to hold onto until we swung back around again. Can you believe that? We looked for two days…but we couldn’t find him.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Where was your safety line?”
“I forgot to put it back on after I took off my—”
“You don’t take that safety line off for anything, baby—do you hear me? I don’t care if it’s a flat calm out there, you still―”
Dee reached out for him
first.
The next minute she was in his arms, locked in an embrace that went beyond barriers and words. It was not contrived or pretend this time, but open and honest and incredibly intense. Suddenly, a dam had broken loose. All the tensions between them were converted into emotion so highly charged; she was startled by her own response. They held each other tight, as if the overwhelming need to hold could never be satisfied.
“Hawk…” she whispered longingly, moved by her impulses even before she realized them. And in response to that whisper, he lifted her off her feet until she could feel nothing but him.
She drew back suddenly, shocked, not only by her own strong feelings, but also his open willingness to oblige them. It was a moment of such intimacy that she wondered how it could have happened in broad daylight, in the casual surroundings of the galley. Especially when it had been the last thing in the world on her mind.
Hawk let her go without a word, but he held her a moment longer with his gaze. In that moment she saw that he knew her deepest feelings, that he had somehow felt them go through her at the same time she was experiencing them. And while they were new and mysterious to Dee, they were as easy for him to read as an open book.
“I didn’t mean to,” she apologized as she backed off. “I only wanted to thank you for…” She pulled the sweatshirt more tightly around her, as if it could shield her from that penetrating gaze. “For saving my life, Hawkins.”
“Well, I couldn’t just stand by and watch my wife drown,” he replied.
Dee murmured something about changing into dry clothes and tore herself away from the searing remark. But it followed her as intensely as if it had been Hawkins, himself. It echoed through her mind even as she stood alone in her cabin. It was an honest statement. But he had emphasized the word wife in such a way that she knew what he meant it to mean.
He was asking for more than a business arrangement.
She spent the rest of the afternoon having mental arguments with herself. Unable to sleep during her off-watch, she lay awake and tried to pray. She made decisions, changed her mind, then made them all over again. Why on earth had she done such a foolish thing? Marrying a ladies’ man! It wasn’t the kind of life she had been looking for all these years. She had dreamed of finding someone like herself, who cared for the down-trodden and wanted to make a difference in the world. She wanted someone who loved God and others as much as she did. Someone who would go to the ends of the earth for a fantastic cause, no matter how dangerous.
The Pandora Box Page 13
