by Dakota Black
“Meaning, he’s been off the Rush radar.” Camden exhaled. “I haven’t talked with him in several years, but both Mitchell and I used to work with him.”
“Can he be trusted?” Nash shook his head. “Let me be very frank with you. You have someone on this rig that wants it shut down and my belief is that this person or persons will stop at nothing to do so. Are there pieces of this puzzle that you’re purposely keeping from me?”
Another hesitation. “Mr. Waters. Both Mitchell and I were as frank with you as we could be. The rig is under performing and men are being hurt. What we need is—”
“What I require is the truth in order to get to the bottom of this shit,” Nash interrupted.
“I understand. I’m telling you everything that I know at this time. We are investigating the current staff. I’ll forward any inconsistencies.”
Inconsistencies. Everyone was hiding the truth. “I suggest you delve deep. I’m changing the crew schedules. I’ll need a few new men. Can you make that happen?”
“I’ll see what I can do. That could be tough, but I’ll try and locate a few. How are the patients?”
Nash watched as Tank walked from one end of the platform to the other. Every step held purpose. “One may need to be airlifted off. I’ll know more later today when I have yet another conversation with the doctor.”
“How is Dr. Easton working out?”
“Opinionated.”
Camden laughed. “As I expected she would be. I’ll be looking for the equipment list as well as a full report on the conditions of the rig.”
“You’ll have them.” Nash ended the call and hissed. Shoving the phone into his pocket, he headed back toward the cabins. Time to meet with engineering.
Toby grabbed him on the way. “There’s something you need to see.”
“More problems?”
“Maybe.”
Nash followed him to the communication’s room and toward one of the computers. “What are we looking at?”
“Weather. We’re tracking a potential hurricane. Just a tropical storm way out in the Atlantic, but the early tracks have the storm coming our way.” Toby pointed to the screen, clicking through several views.
While he knew little about weather, a massive storm could be the last hit Rig 14 could take. “How many days?”
“A week, maybe. They’re hard to predict this early.”
“Keep me informed,” Nash said, a bad feeling pooling into the pit of his stomach and not only because of the impending weather. He moved toward the door then stopped. “Toby, who has complete access to every computer file as well as the various logins?”
Toby looked up, his back stiffening. “One hundred percent?”
“That’s what I’m asking.”
Walter moved closer. “I don’t honestly know. Mr. Parker certainly did. I think maybe one of the crew in engineering.”
“Tank?” Nash threw out.
“Probably. I can find out for you,” Toby offered.
“Do that and report only to me.”
“Yes, sir. For your eyes only,” Walter answered for both of them.
Nash nodded before walking out of the room. He had no doubt that Tank had a colorful past. He was going to do his own investigation into the man and his possible motives.
Chapter 6
Veronica found herself remaining breathless the entire time she walked toward the clinic. Nash. The man had her hot and bothered, flustered to a ridiculous state. The current had been off the chart and out of her comfort zone in an entirely different manner. She kept her head down and walked inside, expecting to find Sam. The entire clinic was quiet, not a single voice coming from the patients.
After her conversation with Roger as well as her run in with another member of the crew, she’d come back to the clinic, performing what tests on his blood sample that she’d been able to, given the limited supplies. She had one hope of getting a full spectrum from a friend who worked in the medical field. While she hadn’t emailed the woman since she’d returned, she had no doubt Sally would be able to help. Her expertise in diagnostics, including blood related diseases was top notch. The middle of the night email hadn’t bounced back immediately so she remained hopeful.
Soon enough, she was going to have to decide on whom to trust. Throwing the carrot out at Nash could give her an indication of where he stood. Other than that, her only option was Sam. He seemed far removed from the rig politics and might be an excellent source of information. But offering her suspicions? She’d keep them to herself for the time being.
Roger was awake, calm and even smiling as she approached. “How are you this morning?”
“Good. I feel… okay. When can I get out of here?” he asked.
He seemed much different than only a few hours before. “We’ll see how you’re doing later today. Then and only then I might let you rest in your cabin.”
“What about work?”
The question seemed odd given his night of terror. “Not for a little while. I was thinking about sending you home for a solid rest.”
“No!”
“You don’t want to recuperate by your family’s side?”
“We are his family.” Sam was suddenly there, standing right beside her.
She tipped her head, studying the wide smile on Sam’s face. “But this isn’t the best location in which to heal.”
“Nonsense. He has everything he needs here.” Sam moved closer, patting Roger’s hand. “Isn’t that right, son?”
When Roger nodded, as if nothing in the world bothered him, she shrunk back. “Well, let’s get through today before we make any decisions. Good enough?”
“Good enough,” Sam answered and turned in her direction. “Can I talk with you for a few minutes, Doctor?”
“Certainly.” Sam took her by the elbow, leading her out into the other room. “Roger needs to get off this rig,” she stated again.
“He’s perfectly safe here.”
Safe. The word was out of place. “I’m thinking about his overall health. His family is suited better for offering round the clock care.”
“He has no family.” This time, Sam’s eyes registered sadness.
“None at all?”
“His wife was killed in an accident and his parents have been dead for years. No other siblings. So, you see, doctor. We are his family.”
The words seemed so cold. “That’s very sad. What did you need to see me about?”
“The other men are ready for release. I’ve checked them out. I’d like your stamp of approval.”
“Sam, there are two burned men in there. They are not ready to leave.”
He smiled and inched closer. “Superficial burns. You left that on your report.”
She nodded and offered a smile. “Then let’s take one more look together.”
“Excellent idea.”
“Sam, wait. What were you trying to tell me yesterday?”
Sam inched back. “I was out of place. Just worried I think. You know?” He laughed, the sound stilted.
“You can trust me. I hope you know that.”
He shook his head. “I know, Doctor. Please just let everything alone. Okay? Let’s get to work.” Turning, he lowered his head and walked into the room.
Veronica remained lagging behind. Sam was more than just concerned for her safety. He was worried about his own. Her thoughts drifted. He’d been behind her, looking at her files. These men were supposed to go back to work, regardless of their conditions. She plastered on a smile as she inched into the room. “How is everyone doing today?”
“Fine, Doctor.”
“Ready to get out of here.”
“Time to go back to work.”
Ignoring their comments, she walked toward the men. Their charts had been strategically placed on one of the tables, no doubt updated and stamped for release by Sam. “Let me take a look.” She hovered over the files, flipping through. By the time she grabbed the more than convenient pen, Sam was looking over her shou
lder. She blocked his ability and continued to write in the files. Five minutes later, she turned around. “Here’s what we’re going to do.”
Veronica couldn’t wait to get out of the clinic. After the four men were discharged, the other two were left in the clinic, grumbling. However, their burns needed her attention, even for another day. The truth was, she was pushing some unseen limit, trying to find out why she was being warned and against whom. If these men were needed back at work for any reason other than to do their jobs, her decision to delay their release would certainly piss someone off. Sam said nothing to her, either defying or upholding her decision. He merely gave her a look and went about his business, filling drawers and cleaning the makeshift beds.
“I’m going to go to lunch. Do you want anything?” Sam asked, already walking toward the door.
“No, I’m fine. Thank you.” She walked behind him, tugging the limited set of keys out of her pocket. There were two locked lateral cabinets that hadn’t been opened since her arrival. She suspected at least one held the various paper files for every crew member on board. The reading could prove to be fascinating.
“Can I help you in any way?”
“I’m fine, Sam. Just enjoy your lunch.”
He hesitated, his eyes sweeping the room. “Okay. I will.”
She waited until he left and sagged. Everyone was on edge. Unlocking and opening the first drawer, she could see they’d been labeled in an organized fashion. They were also from almost four years ago. By the time she found what few remained from months before, the files were no longer in alphabetical order, some even jammed into the space, papers floating from both sides. Crouching on the floor, she pulled out one at random. The reports were detailed at first, identifying specific injuries, flu symptoms and a few broken bones. The closer they came to the day’s date, the more sporadic they became. Granted, this could be a product of the majority of information going into the computer system, but she had her doubts.
What she did notice is that she couldn’t find any reports on injuries from the previous fire event. Not a single one dated prior to sixty days before. “Huh.” Hearing a male voice permeating the walls, she shoved the files back in quickly and closed the drawer. She walked into the reception area just as Nash walked through the door.
“Doctor. Did I catch you at a bad time?”
Taking a chance, she pressed her finger against her lips and walked closer. She had to trust him and somehow, she knew she could. “Can we talk in your cabin, please?”
Nash surveyed the small room before nodding. He held a knowing look. “Follow me.”
Nash could smell fear coming off her breath. He remained quiet as he led her toward his cabin. Once inside, he closed and locked the door.
She walked toward the center of the room, turning in a complete circle.
“Do you want to tell me what’s going on?”
“I think I’m going crazy,” she said, the bitter sound of laughter coming from her throat.
“Why?”
Veronica faced him and folded her arms, rubbing them as if a distinct chill was in the air. “I need to trust you.”
“Trust. All right. What are you trusting me with?”
She began to pace back and forth, the steps quick and short.
“Doctor, please sit down. What is going on?”
Remaining standing, she laughed again and rubbed her hand through the strands falling out of her pony tail. “I’ve heard some things.”
“What things?” He walked closer then noticed the beads of sweat on her upper lip. As she continued to remain silent, he moved toward the small cabinet above the desk, pulling out a bottle of whiskey and two glasses. Pouring them both a shot, he moved toward her, his arm out. “If you’re asking if you can trust me. You can. I’m here to find out what the hell is going on.”
She jerked her head up, nibbling on her bottom lip and eyeing the glass.
He pushed the drink out further then took a sip of his own. Was she afraid he’d poisoned the drink?
When she finally reached out, their fingers touched and she recoiled.
Nash closed the distance. Taking his other hand, he lifted her drink, placing the glass in between her fingers. The same electricity remained. “Drink this.”
Veronica groaned and nodded as she accepted the glass. She walked toward his oversized bed, exhaling. “A bed meant for a King.”
“One not of my design. I assure you.” The answer gave her a smile. He kept his distance, studying every move she made. “What have you seen?”
She darted her gaze in his direction. “Ask me what I haven’t seen. Ask me what I’ve heard.”
“Okay.”
“I overheard the men talking in the clinic. They had fear in the tone of their voices.”
“Interesting. Fear of what or whom?”
Shaking her head, she shivered. “They didn’t say.”
“That’s not much to go on.”
“I know. I could be crazy.” She continued pacing the floor. “I also heard that there were two other explosions with men being hurt prior to me coming on board. Is this correct?”
“Yes. Why?” He swirled the liquor in this glass and kept his voice low.
“Because there are no records to indicate that anyone was hurt at all. None that I can find.”
“In the computer?”
“I can’t get into the computer. Remember?”
Nash raised his eyebrows before walking to the computer, bringing up the system. “I have your login.” He wasn’t going to tell her that acquiring it had taken the systems engineer to, in a sense, hack the system. Parker had been the one who had ordered and set up the security measures, only two weeks after he was on board. “Here you go.”
She rushed toward the computer. “May I?”
“Be my guest.” He moved away and watched as she maneuvered her way through several files, almost expertly going in and through several records.
“This is similar to one I’ve used, although a newer version. The medical portion allows you to access records from existing files, connecting them together. Whatever has been scanned in, emailed in or written in a word document you can find for any patient. This is what I was afraid of.”
“What?”
“Come, see what I’ve found.”
Nash peered over her shoulder. “What am I looking at exactly?”
“Look at the dates of the last files.”
“There is a missing six-month block.”
“Exactly. Just like the paper files I found in the clinic,” Veronica said, excitement in her voice. “Granted, what little was in the ones six months before that was negligible, but they exist.”
He leaned further over, taking over the mouse. After scrolling through several pages, he breathed out, another round of anger rushing through his system. “They were deleted. They were fucking deleted.”
“Or moved to another secure area.”
“Wouldn’t there be a footprint, a ghost remaining of the files?”
Twisting in the chair, she looked up. “Not necessarily. That would depend on how good the person was who was handling the computers. What are they trying to hide?”
“The crew’s injuries.”
She studied the screen, her finger tapping on the desk. “What if their injuries had nothing to do with their work?”
Hissing, Nash took a step back. “As in some of the men were roughed up, a reminder to keep their mouths shut. What in the fuck is going on here?” He paced back and forth, trying to put the pieces together. The trail didn’t necessarily lead straight to Parker. Was he even a part of the scam or just another pawn in a larger operation?
“There’s something else.” This time she took a gulp of the drink, the sound of her swallow strangled. “I was warned last night.”
“Warned?” His thoughts drifted to the note slipped under his door. “By whom?’
“I’m not certain. It was dark in the hallway and I was trying to get away.”
&
nbsp; “Get away?”
Nodding, she rose to her feet. “I heard odd sounds on deck, so I went to investigate.”
The concept riled the hell out of him. He stormed back toward her, grabbing her by the arm. “You can’t do something like that. Do you hear me?”
While her lower lip quivered, she didn’t back down. “Nash, you’re hurting me.”
“You don’t understand what kind of danger you could be in.” He let her go and lowered his head.
“I can take care of myself.”
“Really? Think logically, Doctor. If members of the crew are being hurt in order to hide a covert operation, do you honestly believe they’re going to care about the rig’s doctor getting caught in the middle?
Veronica shook her head and groaned. “Okay. I see your point. What is going on? I’ve been here a day and I have no idea who to trust or if I should even be here.”
“Tell me everything you saw and heard.” He continued to crowd her space.
She slunk away from him. “I don’t know.”
“I’m not the bad guy here. I was hired by Rush Industries to clean up this mess. I haven’t stated any mistruths, but I think I was lied to or at least kept in the dark about the real concerns.”
“The fires aren’t accidental.”
Nash tried to figure out what he should tell her. However, he needed an ally. “No. My belief is that they were purposely set.”
“A cover up. But what?”
“That’s what I’m going to find out.” He had a series of odd sensations, a moment of need that he hadn’t expected would ever happen. He wanted to protect her. “Tell me what you know. Help me with this.”
She finally walked toward the set of chairs and eased down on the edge, her back stiff. “When I was walking, I heard some men talking. And no, there’s no way that I can identify them, but they mentioned that they have to wait, remain cautious. For what? They didn’t say. One did mention that they were taking orders.”
“Orders. Interesting.”
Sipping her drink, she seemed calmer, more in control. “Then there’s the man in the clinic. He’s afraid of dying.”
“That’s normal.”
“No,” she whispered as she lifted her head. “He’s afraid of being murdered.”
