Chương 4
“Appear.”
“Yes.”
I laughed once.
“Comforting.”
“I’m not going to give you false reassurance.”
“Good.”
I meant it.
My father had spent half my life surrounding me with people paid to make bad news sound manageable.
Daniel’s refusal to soften reality felt almost intimate.
A faint vibration came from the bedside table.
Flynn’s tablet.
He had left it charging there.
I stared at it.
“Daniel.”
“Yes?”
“Flynn left his iPad.”
“Don’t access it.”
“You don’t even know what’s on it.”
“And neither do you.”
“It might have messages.”
“It might also notify him.”
I crossed the room anyway.
“Evelyn.”
“I’m not opening it.”
The screen was dark.
A charging cable ran to the wall.
I crouched beside it.
“There’s no reason he’d leave this here if it had anything important.”
“Probably.”
Then the screen lit.
A message preview appeared.
Kara Mills.
My breath caught.
I leaned closer without touching the device.
“What does it say?” Daniel asked.
“Just a preview.”
“What does it say?”
I read it twice.
“‘The signature issue is worse than we thought.’”
Daniel became completely silent.
Then another message arrived.
“‘Call me before you do anything tonight.’”
My heartbeat quickened.
“Kara knows.”
“Maybe.”
“Who else sends a message like that?”
“Someone who knows about a signature issue.”
“That’s not funny.”
“I wasn’t joking.”
A third notification appeared.
This one from Flynn.
Not a message.
An automated calendar alert.
11:40 P.M.
Fresh air with Evie.
I backed away from the tablet.
“He scheduled it.”
“Scheduled what?”
“Me.”
My voice sounded strange.
“He put my murder in his calendar.”
Daniel said nothing for a moment.
Then, quietly, “That may become useful evidence.”
The calmness of the sentence unsettled me.
Evidence belonged to later.
Evidence was something survivors discussed under fluorescent lights while detectives took notes.
I was not there yet.
“What time is it?”
“Eight seventeen.”
More than three hours.
I sank onto the edge of the bed.
Three hours had never sounded so long.
A knock came at the door.
Not Flynn this time.
A woman’s voice followed.
“Mrs. Callahan?”
It was Lila, one of the regular stewards.
I knew her because she had spent the first morning apologizing for accidentally putting cow’s milk in my coffee.
I had told her I wasn’t lactose intolerant and she could stop looking as if she had poisoned me.
The memory turned bitter.
“Mrs. Callahan, are you awake?”
I looked toward the hidden speaker.
“Should I answer?”
Daniel whispered, “Yes, but do not discuss anything sensitive.”
I opened the panel only enough to mute it, then crossed to the door.
“Who is it?”
“Lila.”
“What do you need?”
“Mr. Callahan asked me to bring fresh towels.”
I didn’t need towels.
Flynn knew that.
My hand remained on the lock.
“Leave them outside.”
A pause.
“Ma’am?”
“Outside is fine.”
“I was told to replace the ones in the bathroom.”
My pulse rose.
“Why?”
Another pause.
Lila lowered her voice.
“Because he said you’d been sick.”
That was reasonable.
Too reasonable.
I looked through the peephole.
Lila stood alone holding folded towels.
Her dark hair was twisted into a bun, and she wore the same beige uniform she always wore.
She looked nervous.
But Lila often looked nervous.
On our first night she had nearly dropped an entire tray because Fiona complained that the champagne glasses were too warm.
“Just leave them.”
Lila glanced over her shoulder.
Then she leaned slightly toward the door.
“Ma’am, Captain Mercer asked me to check whether the bedroom air-conditioning vent was still rattling.”
I froze.
The vent did not rattle.
It never had.
My father used to test security protocols with phrases like that.
Ordinary complaints.
Broken lamps.
Running toilets.
Bad air-conditioning.
Things no attacker would remember afterward.
I unlocked the door.
Lila entered quickly.
I locked it behind her.
She set the towels down and immediately pressed one finger to her lips.
Her face had lost all its usual anxious politeness.
She pointed toward the bathroom.
We went inside and turned on the shower.
Water hammered against marble.
“What’s happening?” I whispered.
“Captain Mercer sent me.”
“Daniel said he got the alert.”
Lila’s eyes flicked toward me.
“You spoke to shore security?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
She exhaled.
“He wasn’t sure the emergency channel was still working.”
“Why?”
“Somebody has been inside the communications cabinet.”
“Who?”
“We don’t know.”
I almost laughed.
The phrase had become a curse.
Lila reached into the pocket of her uniform and removed a small sealed bottle of water.
“Drink this.”
I stared at it.
She understood immediately.
“It came from Captain Mercer’s locked emergency locker.”
I checked the seal anyway.
Lila did not look offended.
I drank half the bottle in small swallows.
The water was warm.
It was the best thing I had ever tasted.
“What’s wrong with the bridge?”
“Mr. Callahan told Captain Mercer that you wanted privacy tonight.”
“What does that mean?”
“He said you ordered the crew reduced after ten.”
“I never said that.”
“We know.”
“Who’s we?”
“Captain Mercer, me, Chief Engineer Patel, and Tomas in the galley.”
“Only four of you?”
Lila looked away.
“There are three replacement crew, plus Mr. Callahan and his parents.”
“That’s six.”
“Yes.”
“And how many regular crew are left aboard?”
“Seven.”
I calculated badly, then tried again.
“So we outnumber them.”
“It isn’t that simple.”
“Why not?”
“Because Captain Mercer doesn’t know who changed the access permissions.”
She wiped a drop of water from her cheek.
“And because somebody locked the emergency weapons cabinet from the administrative console.”
I stared at her.
“There are weapons aboard?”
“Two shotguns and flare pistols.”
“Who can open it?”
“Normally the captain.”
“Now?”
“Whoever changed the permissions.”
The shower continued running.
Steam collected on the mirror.
Lila lowered her voice further.
“Captain thinks they’re trying to get us outside territorial waters before midnight.”
“Why?”
“He doesn’t know.”
I thought of the altered course.
“Could it make an investigation harder?”
“Maybe.”
“Or rescue?”
“Maybe.”
May you like
I hated that answer too.
Lila reached into her other pocket.
