by Evan Graver
“I don’t mean scream at her because she used Landis to dump you. I mean, tell her how you really feel—that you still love her. It’ll be good for you.”
Ryan let out another sigh. “I don’t know, man.”
“Well, I see the way she looks at you.”
“Is it the same stupid look Shelly gives you because I think you’ve got her drugged?”
Greg placed his hands on his wheels and pushed his body into the air. When his pelvis was free of the cushion, he swiveled it as best he could, using his arms. “I know what I’m doing, and she likes it.”
“That’s disgusting. You’ve been hanging out with Rick for far too long.”
Shelly opened the door, saw Greg swiveling his hips, and rolled her eyes. “Am I interrupting something?”
“Just showing him how it’s done, baby.”
She scoffed. “Show him later. We have a meeting in twenty minutes at the engineer’s office.”
Greg dropped onto his cushion. “Roger that, babe.” He turned to Ryan. “You guys figure this out. You made a good team before, and you can be a great one again. She loves you, buddy. Love her back.”
Eager to avoid the subject, Ryan said, “Don’t you have a meeting to go to?”
“It’s a hard decision. We’ve all had to make them, but it’ll work out. Shit always works out.”
“Yeah, and it rolls downhill. Why do I get the feeling that I’m standing at the bottom?”
“Because you’re the enlisted guy and I’m the officer,” Greg said.
“Or, to put it in more relevant terms, you have the money and I’m cheap labor.”
“You’re not cheap,” Greg said. “Easy, yes, but not cheap.”
“Thanks,” Ryan replied, with as much sarcasm as he could muster.
“You’re welcome. Now, go talk to Emily and then tell me what you decide to do.”
“When will you be back?”
Greg tapped his wristwatch. “If it’s like the rest of these meetings, it can go on for a couple of hours. If you thought the U.S. had red tape, they ain’t got nothin’ on Latin American countries. Oh, and we don’t have siesta time.”
“I could use a nap myself.” Ryan yawned.
“You can sleep when you’re dead,” Greg said as he wheeled himself out of the room. Shelly dropped a briefcase into his lap as they made for the door, and the two of them left the suite.
Ryan stared out the bedroom door at Emily, who was sitting on the sofa. She stared right back. With another weary sigh, he stood and walked out into the living room.
He’d made his decision, and he doubted Travis would have him back after this, even to scrub the shitters.
Chapter Thirty-Six
When Ryan closed the door to the bedroom, it was like closing a door on the past, on Peggy Lynn, her crew, and all the adventures they’d had together. He wasn’t sure where his life would go, but there was a mission in front of him now, and all he needed to do was keep his head down, bury himself in the work, and good things would come. They always had, no matter what challenges he’d faced, and this would be no different.
“Well?” Emily asked.
“We need a chart so we can figure sailing speeds and distances.”
Smiling, she went to the table, opened her briefcase, and removed a large map of the Caribbean. After smoothing it out across the table, she stood back to allow Ryan to examine the circles she had drawn. Rings in blue depicted cruising speed, and rings in red denoted max speed. Each had a neatly labeled tag showing dates and distances.
Unfortunately, the rings didn’t give them a huge amount to go on. If anything, they seemed to indicate to Ryan that the ship could practically be anywhere.
“Let’s call your satellite company,” he said. “We can start in Miragoâne. The ship was probably there for at least two days, so they can match the Explorer’s overhead and side profiles. From there, it should be a simple matter of following the ship to see where she went.”
Emily pulled a business card for her contact at Hobbins Group from her briefcase and handed it to him. “You’ll have to call because I’m not supposed to.”
Using his sat phone, he dialed the number and asked to speak with Paul Hutchinson. When Hutchinson came on the line, Ryan explained who he was, the company he worked for, and what he needed done. Hutchinson told him it would take at least a day to get started and could possibly take up to a week for them to complete the search.
“Is there any way you can speed it up?” Ryan asked. “The guy who stole the Explorer is a murderer, and we want to capture him before he escapes.”
“I’ll see what I can do, but I can’t make any promises.”
“I’ll pay the overtime.”
“I understand you want to get this done straight away, Mr. Weller, but I already have a backlog of orders and everyone wants them done yesterday.”
“Is there anything I can do to help speed things up?”
Hutchinson sighed. “Yeah. I need a time machine and about a billion dollars.”
“I don’t have either of those,” Ryan said.
“Then you’re just gonna have to wait your turn. Send me the photos and spec sheets so I can get started as soon as we wrap up the next job.”
Ryan wrote down Hutchinson’s email address, finished the call, and said to Emily, “I’m not sure how fast he’ll get it done.”
“There has to be something else we can do,” she said.
He picked up the phone again and dialed Ashlee Calvo at DWR’s headquarters.
She answered on the second ring. “Oh my gosh, I am so ready. Are you ready? Another week and I’m outta here to get ready for my wedding.”
“Calm down, girl,” Ryan said.
“I am calm. What’s up?”
“Can you get me some satellite time?”
“Sure, you’ll just have to pay for time like everybody else. Why?”
“I need to find a stolen freighter. I know it was in Miragoâne, Haiti, six days ago. We need to track it from there. Can you run the program you made to find Mango’s sailboat on satellite images?”
Ashlee laughed, and Ryan visualized her sitting in front of her bank of computer monitors. She had the brain of a super nerd in the body of a petite redhead.
“What’s so funny?” he asked.
“Picture an iceberg, okay?”
“Okay,” he replied dubiously.
“What you want me to do is the tip, finding the ship. Beneath the surface is years of work with artificial intelligence and specific algorithms to develop software, testing, standardization, and all kinds of other stuff. I’m getting married at the end of this month, remember, so I don’t have time to do any of that.”
“Yeah, I know, but—”
She quickly interrupted. “Lucky for you, I know just what you need. I came across a company who does exactly what you want.”
“I hope it isn’t Hobbins Group,” Ryan muttered.
“I’ve never heard of them. I’m talking about MarineSat AI.” She lowered her voice. “I’ve been freelancing with them.”
“Good for you, but can they help us?”
“Sure. Let me guess, you need this done right away?”
“Well, the guy who stole the ship killed the whole crew and we need to find him.”
“Okay. Send me the data points, dates, deck plans, photos of the ship, and any other information you have.”
“I should have called you first,” Ryan said. “You’re a lifesaver.”
“I should always be your first call. By the way, do you have a plus one yet? I need to finalize the catering.”
Ryan looked over at Emily.
She met his gaze and mouthed, “What?”
Into the phone, Ryan said, “I’ll get back to you about that. In the meantime, I’ll send you an email. You’ll get it in a minute.”
“Let me know about the plus one, soon,” Ashlee said.
“Yes, ma’am.” Ryan ended the call and set the phone on the desk.
“What was t
hat about?” Emily asked.
“Nothing. Ashlee and Don are getting married on Memorial Day weekend and I’m supposed to be a groomsman.”
“Really? That’s great. I bet you’ll look great in a tux.”
Ryan didn’t look up from his phone, instead distracting himself with an alert from a social media site telling him that his sister had posted a picture of her children. “We’re wearing khaki shorts and blue shirts. She’s getting a little antsy because I haven’t told her if I’m bringing a plus one or not.”
“Well?” she asked expectantly, leaning back in her chair as if to put herself on display.
Ryan shrugged. “I don’t have one.”
“Give them my best when you see them,” Emily said.
Something in her voice made Ryan look up.
She gave him a strange look that made him wonder if he’d done or said something wrong.
After a long moment of staring at each other, she said, “I have the email ready to go. Where do I send it?”
He came around the table, leaned over Emily’s shoulder, and typed in Ashlee’s email address. A strand of her hair tickled his nose and he could smell her shampoo. She turned her head, and he could feel her just inches away. Her breath on his skin sent a shiver up his spine. He wanted to kiss her. Maybe she could be his plus one? Was that what the strange look was about? Was she inviting herself along?
With the email sent, he straightened and walked to the fridge for a bottle of water. Eventually, the chase for this ship would take them away from Nicaragua, and he needed to be ready to roll when that time came. He took a long drink and screwed the cap back on.
“I need to run out to Peggy Lynn, pack a bag, and return the Defender.”
“Okay.” Emily closed the laptop.
Ryan was halfway to the street when he heard someone on the steps behind him and turned to see Emily. “Where are you going?”
“We’re working together now. Where you go, I go.”
“Like a babysitter?”
“No.” She smiled coquettishly. “Consider me your plus one.”
“What?”
She linked her arm in his when they reached the street. “Why is it you can read a criminal’s mind and tell him exactly what he wants to hear so you can manipulate him, but you can’t understand a word I’m saying to you?”
He shrugged. What is she trying to tell me?
“I’ll throw you a lifeline. Ask me to be your plus one.”
“What?”
“Are you deaf?”
He grinned mischievously. “What?”
She giggled and bumped him playfully with her hip.
At the dock, Emily cast off the lines for the Defender as Ryan started the engines, then she jumped onto the boat.
As he idled out of the tiny harbor, he put his arm around her. “If you’re going to be my plus one, are we going as friends or …?”
“Let’s start with friends and see where it goes.”
He tried to keep the grin off his face as he raced the Defender out of the Bay of Bluefields and across the slick surface of the Caribbean Sea. As soon as Emily had told him she wanted to be his date to the wedding, his heart had lifted. He told himself to play it cool. The past was the past.
Now all they needed to do was wrap up the search for the Explorer with minimal fuss, but he knew in his gut that it wouldn’t work out that way.
The truth was that it never did.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
As they approached Peggy Lynn, Ryan hailed the salvage vessel on the radio and asked if there were divers in the water. Dennis radioed back to say there wasn’t and told Ryan to approach on the starboard side. Travis and Gary helped secure the Defender to the railing. Ryan shut off the engines, and he and Emily climbed aboard the bigger vessel.
“Can you gather the crew?” Ryan asked Travis. “I need to speak to everyone.”
“Yeah. Give me a few minutes, and I’ll get them all on deck.”
In his stateroom, Ryan pulled a duffle bag from the hanging locker. He haphazardly threw clothes and gear into it. There were a lot of things he couldn’t take with him, like his guns, commercial diving gear, wet- and dry suits, and other miscellaneous items he’d collected. He would have to get all those later or have Greg take them back to Texas on the Hatteras.
Travis stopped in the doorway. “We’re ready for you.”
Ryan shouldered the bag, carried it to the main deck, and tossed it into the Defender. He turned and looked at the crowd of expectant faces. “You guys know that Travis told me to make a choice between being here full time or working freelance missions for Greg.” He paused and glanced around, trying to gauge their expressions. “This is one of the hardest decisions I’ve ever had to make. As you can see, I’ve packed a bag. Greg has asked me to help Emily look for a missing freighter whose crew was murdered by pirates. I’ve enjoyed my time here and we’ve done some incredible jobs together, but everything comes to an end, right, Dennis?”
“Why are you throwing me under the bus?” the older man asked.
“Because we’ve all decided to leave.”
Dennis muttered an unkind word about Ryan’s parentage under his breath as he faced the crew. “Ryan’s forcing me to say this before I wanted to, so here goes. Emery and I are retiring at the end of the month. I’m gifting Peggy Lynn to Travis and Stacey. I know you guys love this old gal as much as I do and that you’ll take good care of her.”
Stacey wiped tears from her eyes as she hugged the old sea captain. “You don’t have to go.”
“It’s time, Stacey.” He patted her on the back.
“I know, but I don’t want you to go.”
“We don’t want to go either, whippersnapper,” Emery said with a catch in his voice. “But these old sea legs just don’t work like they used to, and I’m not much help on deck.”
“What are you going to do?” Travis asked.
Dennis said, “We have families we haven’t seen in years, and I’d like to connect with my grandkids.”
“To fair winds and following seas,” Gary said.
“Thank you kindly, shipmate,” Grandpa said.
“I hate to break up the party,” interrupted Ryan, “but Emily and I have to get back ashore.”
“I’ll drive,” Stacey said. “I could use a stiff drink.”
Ryan said, “We planned to catch a ride on the chopper.”
“You’re too late,” Travis stated. “They’ve made their last flight of the day.”
Dennis cleared his throat. “I’m giving you all the night off. Go ashore and be back here first thing in the morning.”
“Hell, yeah,” Gary shouted, and there was a rush to the Defender as the crew piled into its cabin and strapped themselves to the shock-absorption seats.
Ryan shook hands with Grandpa and Dennis, who said they’d see him at Don and Ashlee’s wedding. “Looking forward to it,” Ryan replied.
The Defender raced through the fading light back to Bluefields, and the crew stormed the bar at the Oasis Casino and Hotel. Ryan carried his gear bag up to the suite. He dropped it on the couch and started back to the bar, but Emily stopped him.
She crossed her arms and cocked her hip. “You know, you still haven’t asked me.”
“Asked you what?”
Throwing up her hands in exasperation, she said, “You are dense.”
“I’m confused. What am I asking you about?”
“The wedding. A girl likes to be asked properly.”
“What?”
“You already tried that, buddy.”
Why was he so surprised that she wanted to go with him? His mind raced back through the afternoon, connecting the dots. The annoyed look when he didn’t respond right away to her question, the coquettish smiles, the arm looped in his. Slowly, it dawned on him that she had been angling for this from the moment he’d gotten off the phone with Ashlee.
Ryan smiled and chuckled. He walked over to her and put his arms around her waist. Lookin
g down into her blue eyes, he said, “Emily Hunt, will you go to Don and Ashlee’s wedding with me?”
She gazed back at him with a coy grin. Sliding her arms around his shoulders, she replied, “I thought you’d never ask.”
He leaned into her and they paused, foreheads resting against one another, their lips just millimeters apart. It seemed like every bit of tension they’d created over the years was pushing them apart, while, at the same time, their passion for one another was pulling them together. It was a moment that Ryan would never forget, and then her soft lips brushed against his, and he drew her in closer.
When Emily pulled away, she gazed up at him again. “Do you always kiss your friends like that?”
“Just the ones I really like.”
“Greg’s a lucky guy.” She kissed him again, then pulled away. “Come on, friend. I think your crew is waiting on us.”
They had a few drinks with the old gang before they retired to Greg’s suite. Ryan found the paraplegic sitting on the balcony, swatting mosquitoes, and drinking a beer. Ryan sat beside him with two fresh beers. “It’s done. I’m no longer a crewman of the Peggy Lynn.”
“How does that make you feel?”
“Cut the psychological bullshit,” Ryan said.
“Are you ready to hunt a ship?”
“Yeah, I packed a bag and Emily is my plus one to Don and Ashlee’s wedding.”
Greg smiled.
“Oh, shut up.”
Greg pressed his fingers to his chest and said innocently, “I didn’t say a word.”
“Did you call her down here?”
“No, sir. I called Kyle Ward and told him about the EPC and the ghost ship. She came on her own, to ask you for help.”
“Uh-huh,” Ryan muttered around his beer bottle.
“Contrary to your opinion, I had nothing to do with this other than to suggest the two of you work together.”
“That was more than enough.”
“Something happened or she wouldn’t be your plus one.”
Ryan snorted. “We’ll see.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
After a restless night on the suite’s uncomfortable sofa, Ryan had gotten up and gone outside. He was thinking about going for a run but decided against it when the wave of heat and humidity hit him. He went back upstairs and brewed coffee in the room’s small pot, poured himself a cup, and stared at the charts and papers on the table.