“Here.” He handed her a fried egg sandwich wrapped in a napkin. “There’s fresh coffee in the thermos on deck to go with it.”
“Thanks. I thought after last night, you’d be giving me the bread and water treatment.”
“Like I said, that was Hawk’s idea. Better head up there. Though, he’s in a lousy mood this morning.”
“So I noticed. Where’s Marion?”
“Went to bed a little while ago, exhausted. I’m about ready to do the same.”
“You mean I have to be by myself?”
“Hawk’s up there.”
“Great.”
“You know, if you two can’t iron out your differences by the time we get to Frisco,” he suggested. “Maybe we should go to plan B.”
“Such as?”
“Such as…” He kept wiping the counter without looking at her, as if it had suddenly become important to make it shine. “You and Marion fly out. Meet us in Japan or something.”
“Oh, right. The way he’s acting he wouldn’t bother to pick us up. He was starting out alone in the first place, remember? Which means he thinks he could do it without me.”
“You walked in with the exact location. That changes things.”
“He doesn’t trust me, Starr.”
“Do you trust him?”
Their eyes met.
“Thanks for the sandwich.” She headed up on deck.
Everything had changed, even though it was still stormy and the seas were nearly as high as before. Only now, Pandora was plowing steadily through them with less jostling and very little water breaking over her decks.
Hawk was stretched out on one of the red cushioned seats, reading.
“What happened?” she asked. “The weather looks the same but the boat feels a hundred percent better. You can even walk across the deck without hanging on.”
“We reefed the sails and fell off the wind a little. Where’s your jacket?”
“Still wet, so I had to wear my own.”
“The one I gave you has a built-in flotation system, that’s why we use them. There’s a dry locker next to the engine room. If you hang it there every time you go down, it’ll at least stay wearable.”
“I’ll remember that. But please don’t play the big brother with me. I already have four. Besides, I’ve been taking care of myself for a long time, and I’m sort of used to it.”
“There’s no room for mistakes out here.”
“So I absolve you of the responsibility if I happen to make one.”
“You’re my responsibility as long as you sail with me, sweets, so clip the safety line on and wear your flotation jacket next time.”
“Hawkins?” She pocketed her sandwich and reached for one of the safety cords, which were fastened to the lines that now held up squares of maroon-colored canvas and formed a windbreak around the cockpit. “Let’s be honest with each other here.”
“It’s too early to get serious yet.”
“Oh, all right. But at least tell me what I’m supposed to be doing. Don’t I have to take my turn at the helm?”
“She’s steering herself.” He turned a page and replied without looking over at her. “All you have to do is watch. Check the compass now and again to see if we’re on course, scan the horizon frequently to make sure no ships are bearing down on us. We’re in the middle of a shipping lane. Otherwise, just let me know if there’s a change in the wind so I can adjust the sails. In the meantime, you can read, walk around, or do whatever you want.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Watch you until you get the hang of it.”
“Hawk, look. We’ve got to come to some sort of truce, here, or… “
“Have some coffee, Dee.”
“I can’t ignore when something’s bothering me.” Her black French hat began to slip, and she pulled it off before she lost it. But when loose hair flew in all directions, she had to fumble to get it back on again. Must have lost her hairclip sometime during the night. If the wind got any stronger, she would have to tie something under her chin just to keep her hat on. Dee closed her eyes with a frustrated sigh and moved over to sit in the more sheltered corner of the seat against the cabin to block the wind.
When she looked up, she caught Hawk watching her frustrations with a satisfied twinkle in his eye, but she decided to ignore it. “Can you at least tell if you’re with me or against me, for heaven’s sake?”
“I’m here, aren’t I?” He closed the book, tossed it aside, and sat up. “Business partners. I’m not going to sabotage my own investment, Dee.”
“I just don’t want to be our own worst enemies; that’s all.” Dee took her sandwich out of her pocket and began to unwrap it. “Partners should at least trust each other.”
“Trust is something you earn, sugar.” Hawk reached for the thermos and poured coffee into his mug and another nearby. “A back and forth sort of thing. So, how about I tell you something you should know and then you do likewise? That would be a good start on us both being trustworthy.”
“As long as it’s something we could prove.” Dee stopped eating for a moment as she contemplated the thought. “After last night, that’s the only way I’d believe it.”
He handed a coffee cup to her. “Your papers on Pandora are worthless.”
“Not good enough, Hawkins. That’s just a matter of opinion. One I am perfectly willing to bring up for scrutiny in any court. You said they looked official, so why would you even mention that now?”
“Because I have a set of papers on Pandora, too. Exactly the same as yours.”
Dee stared him in disbelief. “Not signed over, like mine,” she said.
“Identical.”
“But you said you got Pandora through the marina auction as an abandoned vessel.”
“I went ahead with that because it’s simple, it’s legal, and there are no strings attached. When I tried to register with the original papers, I was told they were forged. Probably a stolen vessel.”
“Stolen…” A stab of guilt infiltrated the craziness that had practically blinded her the last two days, and her conscience kicked into gear. No matter what the situation or how long ago the original crime, she would not have anything to do with anything that rightfully belonged to someone else. Boats or otherwise.
“The name had obviously been changed,” Hawk went on, “but the case was so old, they said it wouldn’t be worth the expense to track down. Especially since, by that time, it came under the jurisdiction of being legally abandoned.”
“So mine’s no good either?”
“Probably not.”
“Then what’s going on? What’s all this ‘I pulled your boat out from under you’ stuff? And why didn’t you tell me this in the first place if you were so worried about…” Dee looked at him as if for the first time, and it occurred to her that she and Marion were miles from nowhere in the company of a couple of possible crooks.
“Because you have the journal, sweetheart.” He watched her. “The log tells where the island is. But the journal…well, that tells just where on the island those jewels are actually hidden.”
“Then you lied to me.” She looked away from him, her eyes fastening, instead, on the curling white wake trailing behind Pandora’s stern as she tried to control churning emotions. “You let me believe Pandora was mine! How could you do that?”
“Would you have come otherwise?”
12
At Odds
“He did everything that was rude and unmannerly, I thought…” ~ Nellie Bly
The shock that she had been so easily manipulated struck her momentarily speechless.
“I figured you weren’t naive enough to just hand over the journal,” Hawk explained, “or leave a hundred-thousand-dollar asset in the hands of total strangers, either. And”—a twinkle came into his eyes “—you seemed gutsy enough to go after the big money, one way or another.”
“What a marvel you are at figuring things out!” she snapped. “I happen to hav
e enough evidence to prove Peterson left the boat to me. For your information, Wayne Hawkins, a last will negates all previous ones. Besides, I have witnesses, the aide at Wyngate who delivered it for him and the head nurse on the floor who was there that day. I think I would have a pretty good case in court.”
“No one’s taking anybody to court.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure if I were you. So if you’re cooking up anymore schemes to scare us or dump us off somewhere, I’d—”
“You’re in no position to make threats sugar, you got that? You wanted honesty, now how about giving some back? We both know we’re not going to quibble over a hundred thousand when we could split millions, if we stick together. Let’s admit it.”
“Of course, I admit it. In reality, it’s impossible to work with someone you can’t trust. Just”—she closed her eyes and slowly shook her head. “—what do you suggest we do about that?”
“Let me see the journal, that’s what I suggest.”
“Are you kidding? After what you and Starr tried to pull last night I’m not giving up that journal until I’m convinced we won’t be murdered in our sleep afterward.”
“If that’s what you really thought, you wouldn’t be here.” He looked at the sky as if someone had tapped him on the shoulder and then stood to adjust one of the lines. A barely detectable fluttering sound disappeared, and he came back again, stepping off the upper deck as if it were as stable as a front porch on land.
Dee couldn’t help admire the easy grace and wished she didn’t have to hold onto something just to cross the cockpit.
“We need more time to get to know each other, that’s all,” he continued, as if there had been no interruption. “Listen. After Frisco, we’re going to make a straight run for the Sea of Japan. It’ll take about a month.”
“A whole month?” How was she going to explain to Devlin that she needed a two week extension on her vacation? Maybe even more.
“Sure a whole month. Even under the best conditions, you can’t make much more than a hundred, hundred fifty, miles per day in boat like this. Do the math. It’s a long, tough trip any way you look at it. Plenty enough time for all of us to get to know each other, though, I can guarantee that. No outside interference from anything or anybody. We’re just going to disappear off the grid for a while.”
“Well believe me, it’s going to take a lot more than the four of us getting along before I give up the whereabouts of fifty million dollars. Just because I’m ignorant of sailing things doesn’t mean I’m naive in others. And let me tell you something, Mr. Wayne Hawkins. By the time this is all over, I’m going to be a darn good sailor, too.”
“What do you want, then?”
Dee could sense his frustration and decided to press. “When we get to Frisco, you add my name to the documentation papers, so everything’s fifty-fifty.”
The suggestion touched an obvious nerve. “Why would you insist on that when you don’t really want her?”
“Because you do.”
He muttered under his breath, obviously disturbed that she had put her finger on the thing that mattered most to him. He smoothed down his mustache. “How about a promissory note for what she’s worth?”
“Not good enough. If you can’t trust me to sell my half back to you when all this is over, then don’t expect me to trust you not to double-cross us somewhere along the way.”
“And the journal?”
“I show you the journal when—and only when—I feel sure you aren’t conning or sweet talking or otherwise tricking it away from me. That will take equal trust from both of us, Hawkins.” Their gazes locked and held. “Deal?”
“Deal,” he finally relented. “As long as you promise to turn over the whole thing and not share it out in bits and pieces. I don’t like to be teased, Dee.”
“Neither do I.”
“Or used or made a fool of.”
“Then that makes two of us. Which is why I resent the way you treated us last night.”
“It seemed like a good way to find out who you were.”
“So next time, ask for a resume. I’m D. J. Parker. I work for the Columbia Herald. I—”
“D. J. Parker?” He looked at her and the realization dawned. “Well, no wonder the word’s out on this thing. D.J. Parker! You’ve probably got people tailing you already, no matter what we actually know about anything.”
“The Pandora thing had nothing to do with the paper,” she explained. “It was strictly personal. Between Peterson and me.”
“Strictly personal, huh?” His eyes shown with amusement.
“Not that kind of personal. The man was eighty-seven years old, and they had him in a psychiatric hospital under false pretenses. He needed help, and I helped him.”
“Was that before or after he gave you the diamonds?”
“I had no idea he was going to do that until he actually died. He was just a cooperative information source while I investigated Wyngate. That’s a state hospital just outside of Portland, in case you didn’t know.”
“No, I didn’t know.”
She lowered her gaze to the coffee cup she had tucked between the cushion and the rail. “He needed someone to get him out of there. He was being blackmailed.”
“For fifty million, I’m not surprised.”
“Well, I didn’t believe the whole diamond story, then. It was just too fantastic. My goal was to get him out and expose the hospital corruption. He wanted to come back to this boat, but I had my doubts there even was a boat. I just wanted the story.” She sighed and looked towards the water. “Maybe help out an unhappy old man along the way.”
“But here you are,” Hawk pronounced. “Caught up in Pandora’s curse whether you believed in it or not. It is what it is. Here we all are. Tearing across the ocean in one mad, long race to see who gets there first.”
“Somebody could beat us, you know,” she warned. “While we’re taking a whole month to get across this ocean, whoever stole the chart might decide to fly.”
Like Scott Evans, who didn’t like boats.
She could just see the headline: Oregon Reporter Recovers Legendary Jewels, and it would not be D.J. Parker.
“Sailboat’s the only way to get in there without official permission.” Hawkins broke into her rampant thoughts. “You’ll get boarded for customs when they spot you. But according to Peterson’s logbook, the Siberian coast is so vast and isolated; there aren’t much but fisherman out there. One small sailboat could slip through. Especially if they knew where they were going.”
“You sound just like Peterson.”
“I thought you didn’t believe him.”
“We still spent a lot of hours talking and going over his plan. Trading the things he needed for the things I needed. That’s how I got my story.” She nestled her coffee cup against the cushion again. “But it’s like I told him. What about all the modern equipment they have these days? Radar that allows air traffic controllers to work the entire West Coast from one tower in San Diego. You know they can pinpoint every plane in the sky?”
“That’s air traffic. Not boat traffic. And definitely not something as small as a sailboat on something as big as the Pacific Ocean. Crazy as it seems, a sailboat is still a free-moving entity unto itself. Able to get in and out of places without being noticed at all.” He glanced at the sky again and then stood. “Hire a plane and there’d be papers to file and permission to get just to veer off regular tourist routes. Could end up in months of red tape. Russia’s open, but it’s not that open.”
“Maybe they don’t know that.”
“If they stole the chart, honey, they know.” He reached into the locker beneath the seat he had been sitting on and tossed a set of the traditional, yellow foul weather gear over to Dee, then took another out for himself.
She felt a smattering of raindrops against her hand.
“Better get into that gear before it really lets loose.”
“You mean we could have been wearing these last night instea
d of getting wet to the skin and freezing for hours?” she accused.
“I told you I had to see what you were made of.” He donned the jacket and stashed his book in the locker.
“Well, I’m beginning to see what you’re made of.” She placed a yellow hat over the top of her cap and turned the wide brim up to see out from under it. “Can we at least agree to no more tricks?”
“Don’t expect me to believe you haven’t got a few tricks lined up yourself, D. J. Parker. Something tells me you’re probably an expert on tricks.”
“I haven’t been out-and-out deceptive like you have.”
“You look deceptively vulnerable. Does that count?”
“I can’t help how I look.”
“You look pretty cute in that outfit.”
“Let’s stick to business, OK?”
“You got something against making friends?”
“No, but—”
“Then lighten up. A month is a long time to be formal, especially under the circumstances.”
“Well…” She tightened the straps on the overalls she had just climbed into and reached for the jacket. “How would you like to be called all sorts of pet names by someone you hardly knew?”
“Anytime, baby.” He flashed a winning smile. “Anytime.”
“You’re incorrigible, Hawkins.”
13
Under the Bridge
“I know everybody was experiencing a slight weariness, though we should all have stoutly denied such a reflection on our constant companions…and gladly welcomed the change of a few hours on shore.” ~ Nellie Bly
Other than wind-tossed rain and a few periods of choppy seas, the Pandora sailed past Cape Mendocino with no trouble.
Dee found it amazing how four people squeezed into such small quarters could have so much order and solitary time on their hands. Three hour watches around the clock meant that, other than the ten or fifteen minutes one lingered in handing over their watch to the next person, everyone was either sleeping or working away at private projects during their off-watches.
The Pandora Box Page 8