Dead in the Water (37 page)

Everyone was behaving strangely. Ruth crept around like a thief, obviously upset about something but afraid to discuss it. She hadn’t seen Ramón since they’d come aboard, and he apparently was never in his cabin when she phoned. Now Elise and Phil van Buren were missing. Or at least avoiding everyone they knew with the skill of a Mafia informant. One little, two little, three little Indians.

She told herself the van Burens had reunited and wanted to work things out in privacy: it would be easy to lose yourself among one thousand other people. That’s what she told herself, but it didn’t quite assuage her nagging doubts about their safety.

The thing that bothered her most was the change in John.
Spacy, preoccupied, and distant, he kept a clamp on it, whatever it was, and the closeness they’d begun to share as friends, confidantes, potential lovers, was gone. Matty appeared very troubled, and he seemed to want to talk to her, but John never let him out of his sight.

Donna felt isolated, as if everyone else had some secret that she wasn’t allowed to share.

And she’d just told herself a lie, to help herself sleep at night: the thing that bothered her most was that the lifeboat hadn’t been found. When would they call off the search?

Oh, Cha-cha. Crazy old man.

She took a belt of Scotch and rested the glass against her cheek. Started to dial Glenn’s number. Heck, they could still talk like two cops, couldn’t they? He could set her mind at ease; tell her if anything was coming out in the news about the dumping, for instance. Give her something to do; make her feel less useless.

But was that really why she wanted to call him? Huffing, she took another sip of Scotch. And if Barb answered the phone, well, that would be pretty damn weird, wouldn’t it? Believe it, white girl.

There was a sharp rap on her door.

“Yeah,” she said. Maybe it was John.

“It’s Tom.”

Captain Reade, her mind filled in. Well well well. He’d made the leap to first names. She got off the bed and went to the door.

“Hi,” she said. “I’m glad you’re here. I think it’s time we talked about a few things.”

He didn’t hear her. “Come quickly.” His tone was urgent. “We’ve found the other lifeboat.”

“Oh, God. Just a sec.” Donna stepped into a pair of sandals and grabbed her room key. He was already halfway down the hall by the time she shut the door.

“This is great! I was just thinking about them. Just wishing we’d find it.”

Reade flashed an odd smile at her. “Really? It was sighted five minutes ago on the radar.” He strode down the hall, arms pumping. “We should be on it within the hour.”

That long? “Have you called the other rescue vessels?”

He nodded. She was on his eye patch side. “And I’m filing a report on their sheer incompetence. It must have passed a dozen vessels, and none of them saw it. Claimed the fog was too thick. Ridiculous!”

“Fog?” It had been clear and beautiful ever since they’d come on board. She remembered how the fog engulfed the
Morris
.

“The weirdest shit is going on.” She started over. “I think there was something really wrong with that stuff the
Morris
dumped. I think it might have contaminated us.”

“Oh?” He shot her a look as they strode along.

“Captain Reade, to the bridge, please,” a PA system voice announced. “Captain Reade, to the bridge.”

“Would you care to accompany me? Watch the operation from up there?”

“Sure.” Okay, okay, one thing at a time, and the lifeboat took precedence. For the moment.

A woman dressed in a long, white lace dress and a floppy hat with feathers on it waved from down the companionway. It was Mrs. Reinstedt again. Jesus H. Christ, she had a big butt. Donna blinked. It wasn’t her butt. She was wearing a bustle.

“Captain Reade! Hello! They’ve been found! It’s so exciting.”

“Yes,” he called back, waving. Half turned toward Donna as he kept walking, and did a double take.

“Do you see her?” he asked, with an odd, high-pitched squeal. “Do you see?”

“Huh?” Donna scratched her arm. See her? Of course she saw her.

“You do.” Reade broke into a wide smile. His eye jittered like he was on crack. Donna took a step away from him as Mrs. Reinstedt waddled around a corner and disappeared.

Covering his mouth with his hand, Reade burst into a gale of laughter. He fought for composure, succeeded, and straightened, wiping a tear from his eye. Saw Donna’s blank look and explained, “She’s getting ready for the shipwreck party.” Chuckled.

“Although I don’t know why she’s starting so early. She always wears the same thing. She’s a frequent traveler with us,” he added. It was clear he was straining not to laugh again.

“The
what
?” Donna asked, astounded.

“The shipwreck party.” He waved a finger at her, gesturing for her to follow him around a corner. “Haven’t you been reading your Daily Program?”

“No. You mean, like on
Gilligan’s Island
? Should you have one of those on a cruise?”

“We have one every time we sail,” he replied. He beamed at her. “We’ve been doing them for years and years.”

“But …” She shut up. What did she know? But would an airline host a crash party? How absolutely bizarre.

“You’ll have to have a costume,” he told her. “You’re the guest of honor.” And this time he did laugh, a short, harsh guffaw.

“Huh?”

“Well, all of you, of course. Since you’re our real people. Shipwreck people,” he amended. His mouth twitched.

“Am I missing something?” she asked irritably.

“No, no,
au contraire
,” he said. “
Au contraire.
”

She rang a hand through her hair and put it on her hip. “Well, what’s so funny?”

“Nothing. I’m sorry. It would take too long to explain. Perhaps later, after we’ve got those men on board.”

She let it go. They hurried along until they reached the elevator and went up to the bridge.

“Captain on the bridge,” a man with a handlebar mustache announced. All the men stopped what they were doing and immediately saluted Reade.

He returned it, said, “What’ve you got?”

“It’s moving in very fast, sir,” said the man. He looked familiar to Donna but she couldn’t place him. He pointed to a radar screen. “Just like the other one.”

Reade cocked his head. “Curious.”

“Yes, sir. If you hadn’t recalculated, we’d have …” The man cleared his throat.

Reade looked at Donna. “We’d have missed you,” he finished.

Say huh? A ship like this would’ve missed her lifeboat? She didn’t get it, but she was more interested in watching the radar blip. The line whipped around and around on a field of glassy green. A blip appeared each time on the lower left quadrant. How did they know that was the boat?

“Jesus,” she said, “I hope everyone’s all right.”

Reade left her and walked to the semicircle of windows.

“So does he,” the other officer confided. “He hasn’t slept more than an hour at a time since your boat was first reported. And then, when we heard about the second one …” He sighed and shook his head. Donna wondered how you got that kind of loyalty. She thought her own big boss was a total asshole, no matter how many sleepless nights he put in for the good of the department.

“They’re coming!” the other officer cried. “Sir! We’re practically on top of them!”

“Steady on, then,” Reade ordered, coming over to the radar screen.

The keel of the
Pandora
, slicing through the water.

You must not acknowledge me, Cha-cha, when I rescue you
.

“But you’re my big kahuna,” Cha-cha murmured, surveying the fog. The king was nearby. He could hear him so clearly. But he couldn’t see anything, man, not even the cargo that lay at his feet.

You have done everything I’ve asked thus far, Cha-cha. Don’t disobey me now
.

“Yessir,” Cha-cha murmured, chastened.

Good, Cha-cha. Very good. Now listen: one of them is still alive. The black man. Quickly
.

Surprised, Cha-cha sat up very straight and listened. Sure enough, he heard a sad little moan. He nodded.

“Yessir.”

Down on the main deck, John, Ruth, and Matt stood together, straining to see. Ruth had rousted the other two from a nap and they’d run to the railing. Now John held Matt
tight, preparing himself in case he was needed. Dr. Hare had gently but firmly refused his offer of assistance unless he found himself confronted with something he couldn’t handle. John prayed he wasn’t needed.

The
Pandora
’s horn blared and a cheer rose from the assembled passengers and crew. John leaned over the railing. “I don’t see them.”

“There! There!” Matt jumped up and down. “Look!”

And suddenly John
could
see them, where he thought he’d looked and seen nothing before. Figures moved inside the boat, standing and waving.

“Yes!” John shouted and flailed his arms above his head, laughing when the woman next to him threw her arms around him and gave him a big kiss. He picked Matt up and hugged him; and it didn’t register when Matt pounded on his shoulder and said, “That’s the lady, Dad. The lady that’s a statue.”

Beside him, Ruth dabbed her eyes with a Kleenex. Touched, John put his arm around her and gave her a squeeze.

“I know you’ll think me callous,” she said, so low he could scarcely hear her, “but just now, I was sure that … that Stephen would be in that boat.”

Her words jolted him: a thought had flashed through his own mind, quicksilver, like a school of anchovies:
Now Matt will live, like the captain said
.

The captain was a religious man, maybe even a fanatic. That was all there was to it. But when John had been with him these last couple of days, when he was near, he could almost envision Matt running and playing and growing up. He could almost feel his ulcer healing. A form of paradise, some kind of mild, unrealistic euphoria, filled him when he was around Reade. Or was that called hope? Was it in such short supply in his psyche that he’d forgotten how it felt? And if it was this good, who cared where it came from?

My son is full of barnacles
, he thought, squeezing Matt’s hand as the boy danced with excitement.

And the cold can kill them
, a voice replied down in his brain where he couldn’t detect it, but he heard it just the same.

*  *  *

Donna accompanied the captain to the landing and watched them hoist up the boat, men and all. There were sixteen, laughing and joking, shaking fists of triumph. A big black man clapped Mr. Saar on the shoulder. The white man’s face was bright red, but otherwise he appeared fine.

Cha-cha saw Donna and stood up. “Officer Donna!” he called. “It’s me! Don’t shoot!”

Reade chuckled and nudged her. “That must be Cha-cha.”

“Absolutely.” She cupped her mouth with her hands. “Hey, Chach! How are you?” God Almighty, his skin was red as—

red as—

a rose.

“Cool, baby. Cool as ice! Right on!”

“Well, sit down or you’ll kill yourself!”

He flashed her a peace sign and plopped back down.

“Jesus, he looks like he’s been skinned,” she muttered.

“A bad sunburn,” the captain agreed. “Dr. Hare will have something for that.”

The boat was hauled up even with the landing with the men still in it.

“How come you didn’t bring us up like that?” Donna asked the captain.

“This way is more dangerous,” he replied, as if that should satisfy her. Which, of course, it didn’t, since it only led to more questions in her mind.

The crew was carefully helped out. Men in greens arrived with a squadron of wheelchairs and a stab of vertigo rattled Donna for an instant as she remembered her arrival on the
Pandora: She’s the one
.

Ice water in her brains.

Whoah, girl. She took a slow, deep breath.

“Shit, we don’t need those things,” the black man said. “We’re a little burned, but we’re fine.” As he climbed out of the boat, he held his hand out to Cha-cha. “Sorry I gave you such a hard time, brother.”

Shaking with him, Cha-cha wagged his head and made a peace sign. “Hey, Eskimo baby. Peace and love.” He winked. “King made that fish come. Told me a lot of groovy things.”

“Fish?” the captain queried.

“Yes,” Cha-cha began, and then he paled. His mouth dropped open. He staggered a little and said, “Your Maj—” Cupped his hand over his mouth and bobbed like a pigeon. Backed away and started whistling tunelessly. Poor old wacko, Donna thought. He must have had a real time of it.

Suddenly he said, “We knew how to get here ’cuz we heard you singing, Officer D.”

Donna jerked. “What?”

Saluting, Mr. Saar stepped forward. “Our supplies were defective, sir. We were starving.”

Reade knit his brows. “But you were only at sea for six days,” he said.

“No way!” Eskimo interjected, looking incredulous. “No way!” The others nodded.

“We
were
starving!” one of them said. “We wouldn’t starve in less than a week.”

“I want to get these men to the infirmary,” the doctor said impatiently.

Reade rubbed his chin, lowered his hand. He said to Donna, “I’m afraid I’ll have to see you later. I’ll be accompanying these men to sick bay.”

“We were gone twenty-three days,” Mr. Saar insisted as the group moved away. He sounded more hurt than puzzled that no one was agreeing with him. “I counted them.”

Donna chewed the inside of her cheek. “Welcome to the Bermuda Triangle,” she murmured. Bad counting and phantom songs. Well, hey howdy, things were curiouser and curiouser.

The crowd drifted away once the men had left for the infirmary. She stood around for a while, monitoring the scene. Twenty-three days, and the guy was positive. One little, two little, sixteen little Indians. Holy moly. And Cha-cha knew she liked to sing, too.

Maybe it was time to do some real digging.

John walked over, Matt in tow. He looked sheepish as he said, “Are you going to change for dinner now?”

She regarded him. Pink on his cheeks, eyes cast downward. Too sweet for words.

“Yeah.” Maybe he’d open up on the way to the stateroom. The still-weird stateroom, where her heart still thundered for an hour or two before she fell asleep.