Chương 3
“Done.”
“Good.”
“What did he mean when he said nobody saw me?”
Daniel was quiet.
“Daniel?”
“We reviewed earlier recordings.”
A cold pressure spread beneath my ribs.
“What earlier recordings?”
“There was a discussion this morning between your husband and one of the replacement crewmen.”
“About me?”
“Yes.”
“What did they say?”
“I need you to stay focused.”
“Tell me.”
Silence.
Then Daniel said, “Your husband wanted confirmation that the aft-deck camera would be offline between eleven forty-five and twelve thirty.”
I looked toward the windows.
Outside them, the sea had darkened from blue to iron.
“And is it?”
“No.”
That should have comforted me.
It didn’t.
“What else?”
“The crewman asked what explanation they would give if anyone saw you after dinner.”
My mouth went dry.
“What explanation?”
“Mr. Callahan said nobody was supposed to see you after dinner.”
For several seconds, all I heard was the low vibration of the engines beneath the floor.
Then Daniel added, “Evelyn, there is something else you need to know.”
I waited.
“The captain has just reported that the yacht changed course forty minutes ago.”
“Changed course to where?”
“We don’t know yet.”
“Who ordered it?”
Another silence.
“According to the bridge log, you did.”
I stared at the speaker as if Daniel had spoken in another language.
“That’s impossible.”
“I know.”
“I never went near the bridge.”
“I know that too.”
“How can the log say I ordered it?”
“We’re checking.”
A pulse of anger cut through the fog in my head.
“Check faster.”
Daniel did not react to my tone.
“The course alteration was entered under your owner authorization.”
“I don’t have owner authorization.”
“You do.”
I pressed my fingers to my temple.
“My father owns the yacht.”
“The vessel is held through Sterling Maritime Holdings, but you were granted emergency owner authority when the yacht was assigned for your personal use.”
I let out a short, humorless laugh.
“Apparently everyone knows more about my paperwork than I do.”
“That may be what your husband is counting on.”
The words settled heavily.
I looked toward the bedroom door.
“What course did they enter?”
“Southwest.”
“Toward what?”
“We’re still calculating the exact destination.”
“Is Captain Mercer actually in control of the boat?”
“Not completely.”
My skin tightened.
“What does that mean?”
“The bridge has redundant control systems, but someone with administrative access changed several permissions yesterday.”
“Flynn?”
“We don’t know yet.”
“You keep saying that.”
“Because guessing could get you killed.”
I shut my eyes.
The irritation embarrassed me almost immediately.
Daniel was sitting somewhere on land trying to keep me alive while I snapped at him because certainty had become a luxury.
“Sorry.”
“Don’t worry about being polite.”
“I’m very good at being polite when terrified.”
“That’s not necessarily useful right now.”
Despite myself, I smiled.
It vanished when footsteps passed outside the cabin.
They slowed.
Then continued.
“Can you see the aft deck from your windows?” Daniel asked.
“Part of it.”
“Without being visible?”
I moved carefully toward the curtains.
The glass reflected the room back at me, making it difficult to see beyond.
I switched off the bedside lamp.
The sea appeared in the dark window.
White wake dragged behind us like torn fabric.
Farther aft, two deck lights illuminated a section of railing and the covered tender.
A man stood beside the service stairs.
I recognized him as one of the replacement crewmen.
He had served us breakfast that morning.
He was smoking now, one shoulder against the bulkhead, watching the corridor entrance instead of the ocean.
“There’s someone out there.”
“Can you identify him?”
“Tall, shaved head, gray deck shirt.”
Daniel spoke to someone nearby.
“Stay where you are.”
The man outside flicked ash over the rail.
He looked bored.
That frightened me.
People waiting to commit terrible things were supposed to look terrible.
This man looked like someone killing ten minutes before his shift ended.
“His name is Marcus Vale,” Daniel said.
“You found him?”
“Employment file says temporary deckhand.”
“Real?”
“We’re verifying.”
“Flynn hired him?”
“His placement was requested through a charter staffing agency.”
“By who?”
“Your husband’s assistant.”
I knew the woman.
Kara Mills.
She had organized our wedding flights and once sent me six versions of a seating chart because Fiona refused to sit near a cousin who had insulted her garden.
“Kara knows?”
“We don’t know.”
I hated those words more each time.
“Call her.”
“We will.”
“Now.”
“Ms. Sterling—”
“If she helped him, she knows something.”
“And if she didn’t, contacting her could alert him.”
I pressed my lips together.
He was right.
I hated that too.
The deckhand crushed his cigarette beneath his shoe and disappeared toward the stern.
I returned to the bed.
“What am I supposed to do until help gets here?”
“Keep behaving normally.”
“I’m locked in a room.”
“You’re ill on your honeymoon.”
“That’s normal?”
“Normal enough.”
I looked at the tray Flynn had left.
The tea had cooled.
The honey packet sat unopened beside it.
“Can I eat the crackers?”
“Were they sealed?”
“Yes.”
“Then yes.”
I tore open the packet.
My stomach objected to the first bite, but I made myself chew.
The cracker tasted aggressively plain.
For some reason, that nearly made me cry.
A person could be facing murder and still be irritated by an overly dry cracker.
I ate another.
Daniel asked, “When did you last drink anything you prepared yourself?”
I tried to reconstruct the day.
“Water this morning.”
“From where?”
“A bottle in the bathroom.”
“Already opened?”
I thought about it.
“Yes.”
“Then we can’t assume it was safe.”
I stopped chewing.
“How much of this stuff have I been taking?”
“We don’t know what the substance is.”
“Could it kill me?”
“Potentially, depending on what it is and how much you received.”
The room seemed to shrink.
“Do I need a doctor?”
“Yes.”
“Do I need one now?”
“We have medical support coordinating with the response team.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
“No, it wasn’t.”
May you like
I waited.
Finally Daniel said, “Your speech is coherent, you’re breathing normally, and you’re able to move, so based on what you’ve told us, immediate collapse does not appear imminent.”
