On the other hand, Dee was sure she had personally destroyed whatever plans God might have been setting up to win Hawk over and open up connections between them. Connections that might have very well led to the kind of marriage she had always dreamed about. Because, if there was one thing she was certain about after all this, it was that she had fallen hopelessly, and completely, in love with Wayne Hawkins. Whether it was one-sided or not, the slightest touch or glance from him, even now, still sent her emotions careening in every direction.
But Hawk stuck to his decisions. His expressive eyes no longer softened when they met hers. His gaze always turned away too quickly, refusing to rest on her for any length of time. If he spoke to her it was only out of necessity and always with the utmost casualness. Which was more hurtful than if he had stayed angry.
Even the name-calling disappeared. Which, rather than being a relief, made Dee feel even more miserable.
“Take my advice,” Starr said to her one night when they were alone on deck together, “and don’t let yourself fall for him.”
It was one-thirty in the morning and the wind was bitter cold.
Dee was sitting in the lee of the canvas they had laced along the cockpit railing for a windbreak, sipping her hot coffee and brooding. “Is it that obvious?” she asked.
“Obvious—I’ve got sympathy pains just watching you torture yourself with guilt. It’s not your fault. Hawk has a lot of his own problems to deal with. No use getting yourself tangled up in something that started a long time before you ever came along.”
“What is he, a monster in disguise?”
He got up to lean over and check something on the side of Pandora’s hull for a moment before sitting back down again. “You can hear what people say up here clear as a bell if the side port’s open,” he explained. “But he’s got it closed. Where was I?”
“Monsters.”
“He can be one, all right. How’s the saying go? When he’s good, he’s very, very good, but when he’s bad…”
“He’s horrible,” she finished for him. “How come you stick so close to him, then?”
“Because he picked me up out of the gutter, that’s why.” He got up again, lifted the locker beneath his seat and retrieved a bottle of Southern Comfort from its recesses. He poured a liberal portion into his coffee, looked over at Dee to offer, but she put a hand over the top of her cup in reply.
“That doesn’t sound like any monster to me,” she said.
“I’ve been married three times,” he confided. “First wife died. Second two… ah, they were just pass-times, mostly. Anyway, when Hawk drifted through, the last one had just finished cleaning me out. My fishing business was about to go bust, and I was pretty low. Met him in the bar one night. Next thing you know he had invested in the business. Bailed me out of debt is more like it, and we were partners.”
“That doesn’t sound like a man with such problems, either.”
“He did it in spite of his problems. Like it was second nature to him, like… breathing. That’s the thing about Hawk. He always does what’s right, even if it’s for the wrong reasons. He just crashed and burned ten years of marriage in a messy divorce and what does he do? He helps out a drowning old duffer like me nobody else will give the time of day to.”
“Ten years?”
“Ten miserable years to hear him tell it. I guess she really did a number on him. Rich, lawyer-type career lady that walked all over him to get to the top, then dumped him once she got there. No kids. Just money, money, and money.”
He tipped a little more whiskey into his cup. “Anyway, that’s why Hawk has a vendetta against anything female. At least he did until you came along. Between you and Pandora, I thought maybe he found the right road again. Now, I don’t know. All the old symptoms are back, and he’s closer to toppling over the edge than ever.”
“What kind of symptoms, Starr?”
“It isn’t my place to say. I already said too much. But I’m getting a little attached to you myself these days. You’re a nice gal. I wouldn’t want to see you get hurt. Truth is, Hawk’s not the kind of person someone as nice as you ought to be chasing after. After he gets what he wants…he’ll just cut and run.”
26
Suspicion
“‘Don’t worry,’ I said encouragingly, as I was unable to speak that dreadful word…” ~ Nellie Bly
“What’s this?” Marion asked when Hawk emerged from the companionway at dawn and handed her a folded wool blanket.
“A peace offering,” He sat down in the seat across from her and reached for the coffee thermos. “It’s one hundred percent wool. Even if it gets wet it’ll stay warm.”
She was quiet.
“Come on, Mare. It’s been almost three weeks. How many times do you want me to say I’m sorry?”
“I’m not the one who needs to hear it, Hawk. Dee’s miserable.”
He sighed, took a sip from the steaming cup, then put a hand in the pocket of his jacket to keep warm. “She isn’t miserable because I lost my temper, Marion. She’s upset because she lost the reins on this whole thing, and I’m not playing into her hands anymore.”
“That’s the farthest thing from the truth there is. Dee’s not that kind of person. It’s just a…twist of fate that it even looks that way.”
“It’s a twist, all right.”
He looked tired.
She contemplated the handsome, troubled gaze that stared moodily into the dawn and felt sorry for him. Whatever his reasons for withdrawing into himself, he was lonely, spent, and trying to make amends. Who was she to insist that he make them first with Dee? After all, didn’t the deepest wounds take longest to heal?
“You don’t have to give me the blanket off your bed, Hawk,” she finally said. “Apology accepted. I just wish we’d all try thinking the best of each other instead of the worst every time. Including me.” She took a tissue out of her pocket and dabbed at her nose that had long since grown irritated in the wind. “Red sky in the morning, sailor take warning,” she quoted the famous lines then got to her feet. “I’ve been feeling rain in the air all night long.”
“Barometer dropped into the storm zone. Better sleep while you can. It looks like it might be a rough one.”
“Don’t you want to have breakfast before I go down?”
“I’m not hungry, I’ll get something later.”
She handed him the blanket.
“No, you take it,” he insisted. “I don’t have the wet spot…I just have the ghost.”
It was amazing, Marion thought, how much better a person could feel after airing their differences. Keeping things all locked up inside and holding a grudge, that’s what wore a person out. She hadn’t changed her mind about Hawk’s actions or even her opinion of how he was treating Dee. But she felt better about him. At least standing watch with him every day wouldn’t feel so much like the judgment seat anymore.
She missed Starr. She missed that big comfortable hulk sitting there in his worn-out jeans and suspenders, with his plaid flannel shirtsleeves rolled up past the elbows of his long underwear. He drank too much, but he didn’t put on airs. And he made a person feel like they didn’t have to waste time putting on airs for him, either. He thought a little too highly of Hawk. But then it was difficult for anyone not to be taken in by the warmth and friendliness Hawk doled out whenever he felt like it. Hadn’t she just been taken in by it herself?
No matter. If she had to be Hawk’s partner she would rather have him be the smooth-talking charmer who meant only half what he said than the dark brooding stranger he had been lately. Charm she could live with. Dark, brooding secrets gave her chills.
Marion pulled the green, acrylic blanket with the damp center from her bed and shook out the thick, gray wool one to replace it. It wasn’t until she was tucking in the corners that she noticed the black lettering at the hem. She bent down for a closer look and then froze.
It had the words, “Wyngate State Hospital” stamped on it.
Dee had only been asleep since Marion took over the watch at two and was harder to wake than usual. “Now what?” she groaned at the intrusion. “It can’t be my turn already, and I don’t want any coffee!”
“It’s me―Marion!” her friend persisted in a hushed but urgent whisper. “Dee, this is important! You have to come to my cabin for a minute. I have to show you something!”
“Now?”
“You bet your life now. Come on!” She dragged her out of bed. “But be quiet…” She peeked down the companionway to make sure it was empty before darting across to her own door that was still ajar.
“This better be good, Mare,” Dee whispered, “because I’m exhausted.
“Look…” Marion pointed to the blanket hem that was turned up across the corner.
Dee bent down for a closer look. “I don’t believe it! Where in the world did it come from? How did it get here?”
“Hawk gave it to me this morning.” Marion’s tone had the death-bell ring again. “And I think it makes perfect sense!” She closed the door behind them, after a quick glance down the empty companionway and whispered. “It explains everything. Where else would he get a signed-off title of the boat if not from Peterson? You said yourself someone was blackmailing him. And the only people who were ever around him besides you…were Wyngate staff.”
“Marion, that’s just too frightening! What would he be doing there? He’s not a doctor or anything.”
“How do you know? Did you ever ask him what he retired from?”
“He retired from the military, remember? And besides that, he just isn’t the type.”
“They have medical people in the military, Dee. They don’t all just march and carry guns. And he’s been out of the military long enough to have befriended Peterson, just like you did.”
“But do you realize how cold and devious he would have to be to pull something like that off? I can’t picture it, Mare, he’s too… well, he’s just too emotional.”
She gasped. “Oh, good heavens, that’s even worse. But you’re right. It does make more sense.”
“What sense?”
“How emotional he is.” Marion opened one of the drawers beneath her bunk and withdrew a pair of thick flannel pajamas to change into. “Think about it. He’s perfectly charming one minute and then brooding and moody the next. He spends hours in his cabin.”
“We all do, ever since this blowup about the journal. It’s turned the whole trip depressing.”
“Not like him. If you ask me, I think he’s got all the symptoms of a manic depressant. Bipolar, I think they call it these days. And maybe he wasn’t on the Wyngate staff at all, Dee. Maybe he was a patient.”
“Marion! Oh, don’t say another word!” Dee pulled the collar of her jogging suit against her neck at the chilling thought.
“That’s the way they are, you know. They go to extremes. And I’m telling you, Dee, when I saw the way he grabbed you up that day and carried you off like some caveman…”
“He was just upset.”
“Upset,” she clarified, “is when you say, honey, I wrecked the car, and he maybe puts his fist through a door. But going after a person like that and then sulking about it for three weeks, making the rest of us miserable…that calls for psychiatric help. They get progressively violent, you know.”
“He didn’t hurt me, Marion.”
“He did something. I’ve never seen you so upset before.”
“I was just emotional, because he got to me somehow.” She looked her friend in the eye. “I love him.”
“Dee Parker! I can’t believe what I’m hearing! There’s thousands of wonderful, eligible men in the world without having to consider someone like Wayne Hawkins!”
“He reminds me of my brothers.”
“Oh, gads. Someone to fight with and go on adventures. That’s fine for kids, Dee, but there’s no place in the modern adult world for that kind of life. You wouldn’t want it if there was.”
“I’m not so sure I wouldn’t.”
“It’s like the movies.” She hung her damp clothing on a peg behind the door, to dry. “Great fun and excitement to watch from the safety of your seat, but hair-raising horror to live through in real life.”
“I don’t know what to do.” Dee ran a hand through her tangled hair. “I’ve never felt like this about anybody before. Not like this. It’s all so disturbing!”
“I know what to do. We pull this boat over, get off in Tokyo, and take the first plane back to the States. That’s what we do.”
“And leave the boat and diamonds all to them? Marion, you can’t be serious! If we stick it out we could be set for life. Just imagine the good we could do.”
“I’m deadly serious. And what good is set for life if you’re dead?”
“Dead?”
“Yes, dead. This infatuation is clouding your judgment, Dee. I’ve never known you to be so naive.”
“Whatever Wayne Hawkins is,” she declared, “he is not a murderer! He’s just been in a tailspin because he thinks I betrayed him. That I’m a rotten Christian even though I act like I’m not.
“A rotten Christian? I’ve never known anyone as dedicated as you, how could he say that?”
“It’s just like my father always said, Mare. People judge you more by what you do than what you say. And I’ve never made such a mess in my whole life.”
“You can’t save everyone. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”
“But he’s so miserable. Do you think he’ll get over it?”
“Oh, he’ll get over it. He’ll be all charm and sweetness getting over it. Next thing you know, he’ll sweep you right off your feet. But it’s a mood swing, Dee, and he’s only interested in you because you’re here and he’s…an over-sexed male! I hope you remember that. People with his kind of problem seem to need constant reinforcement from others. Whether it’s approval of their behavior or a warm companion to sleep with.”
“Marion, for heaven’s sake!”
“I’m just being frank. Because even after the despicable way he treated you, you seem to be too starry eyed to see it.”
“We can’t assume he has mental problems just because he…” Dee looked out the porthole and was startled at how turbulent the slate gray sea was beginning to look. At the same time, she could hear in her mind Starr’s hushed voice quoting, “When he’s good, he’s very very good, but when he’s bad…”
The thought was so disturbing it made her shudder.
“I guess we’ll just have to wait and see,” Marion said. “But he was either on staff at Wyngate or a patient. There’s no other way to explain this blanket being here. That he would be so blatant as to come right out and give it to me is downright frightening!”
“Maybe he didn’t know it was a Wyngate blanket,” Dee suggested. “Maybe Nels brought it aboard. On a visit or something.”
“I thought Peterson told you he hadn’t been out of that hospital in almost five years.”
“He did.”
“Then I’d say that pretty much rules out Peterson. So I for one intend to be on my guard at all times. You’ve given him all the papers now, and he hasn’t said one word about it since. Not one word, Dee. That’s because we’re not needed anymore. Next thing you know…” She began to smooth cold cream over her face. “There’s going to be an accident.”
27
The Accident
“I went in very bravely and took my place on the captain’s left…” ~ Nellie Bly
It was not the same as the rough weather they had encountered off the Oregon coast. This was a surging, full-blown gale. It kicked waves up to thirty feet that sent Pandora crashing and pounding over seas that buried her under tons of water half the time and left her groaning and shuddering the rest.
No amount of reefing sails or adjusting the rigging could stabilize her. The self-steering gear could not function in such erratic weather, and watches had to be reduced to two hours on and two off, around the clock. Nobody stayed on deck alone. Each person
kept their safety lines on above and below decks to avoid the danger of being swept overboard by some random wave while trying to clip one on in the tossing cockpit.
Any lingering disputes among Pandora’s crew, melted before the face of such grueling work and harrowing seas. The storm was unrelenting. For a day and a half they got little sleep, lived off damp sandwiches and coffee, and were hard pressed to stay dry.
Hawk was an unyielding taskmaster whose word went undisputed, even though he sometimes seemed to ask the impossible.
If anyone lay down to rest it was only on one of the settees in the main salon. They wedged themselves, fully clothed, between the table and the bulkhead to keep from being thrown to the floor with the violent motion.
Starr was as steady and comforting as a dependable giant, whose sheer strength pulled them through time and again. He seemed less unnerved than Dee and Marion and had great confidence that Hawk’s judgment would see them through.
Marion and Dee did their best at whatever tasks they were given and in spite of their fears, worked tirelessly right along with the men. They learned to make sandwiches and coffee in the pitching roller-coaster galley, and they could handle every chore on deck but steering, which they could only manage for brief intervals. Neither of them had enough strength or endurance, yet, to hold the wheel steady against the pounding seas for any length of time.
So it was that toward the end of the storm’s second day, Dee was roused out of a fitful sleep by Starr as he thundered past her through the salon and up the companionway ladder in two bounds. By the time she reached the decks herself, he was already hauling an unconscious Marion aboard by her safety line, hand over hand.
Hawk hadn’t moved from the wheel.
“What happened?” she cried against the wind. “Hawk—she’s bleeding!”
“One of the stays broke loose and I had to jibe.” he shouted back. “I yelled at her, but she didn’t move fast enough. The boom knocked her overboard.”
The Pandora Box Page 17
