Ignoring the Bambi “you killed my mother” eyes that were now widening with shock and dawning understanding, he made his way up to the wheelhouse before they could turn accusing. He grabbed the emergency handheld marine radio, a few navigation maps, and a heavy-duty Mag flashlight before cutting the engine and letting the anchor drop. For good measure he flipped the kill switch.
He didn’t meet Annie’s gaze as he walked past her out the door and back down the ladder, and made his way aft along the deck to the inflatable. He went to work lowering it with the dinghy crane. He could use another set of hands to keep the inflatable steady with the ropes, but he wasn’t too worried about scratching the sides of the tug. As long as it didn’t flip, he’d be fine.
“Wait,” Annie said with all the accusation he hadn’t wanted to see. “You can’t mean to leave me here with them.”
“That’s exactly what I mean to do.” She’d gotten herself into this mess; she could get herself out. Where was that feminist ideology of hers now?
He made the mistake of looking over his shoulder. He might as well have just shot her puppy. She looked at him as if he were the worst kind of ogre. Guilt began to worm its way into his consciousness.
He wasn’t an asshole—not usually, at least. “Look,” hesaid in a more reassuring voice. “Don’t worry. I’ll radio the coast guard as soon as I’m clear to explain what’s going on.”
The inflatable splashed as it hit the water. All he had to do now was climb in and release the rope harness.
But she wasn’t letting him go. Her hand on his arm was proving to be a pretty strong tether. “What about the explosives?”
“They won’t be able to use them if the ship can’t go anywhere. But if it makes you feel better, there’s a key to the storage room in the top drawer of the table by my bed. Lock the door and toss the key in the ocean. It’s a steel door. They won’t break it down before the coast guard arrives.”
He tried to tell himself she didn’t look panicked. It wasn’t working. But he forced himself over the side anyway.
He was halfway down the ladder to the boat when she said the one thing he couldn’t ignore. The one thing guaranteed to stop him. The one thing that tapped right into all that can’t-look-away shit.
“What if they’re dangerous?”
Nine
Annie couldn’t believe he was just going to leave her.
Who was this guy, and what was he hiding? Clearly the captain didn’t want to risk a run-in with the police. Was he on the run? Some kind of criminal?
She didn’t think so, but she wasn’t exactly batting a thousand right now when it came to stellar judgment on men.
One thing was for sure: she didn’t want to be here alone with only Julien between her and Jean Paul when he learned that she’d found the explosives and the coast guard had been alerted.
No, the better of the two evils was definitely the captain. She’d just have to hope he wasn’t some psychopathic murderer. Although psychopathic murderers didn’t have a conscience, and he seemed to be struggling with his. Which was good. He should be.
Hoping to push him over the edge, she added, “What if they try to hurt me?”
She knew that it had worked when after a pause, he cursed. “Get in the damned boat, Hanoi Jane.” She bristled at that. “But as soon as we hit land, you are on your own. Got it?”
“Aye-aye, Captain,” she said with a mock solute. “Anyone ever tell you that you’d make a great drill sergeant?”
She’d meant it as a joke, but his expression suddenly sobered. It would be an improvement over the anger if it wasn’t tinged with that grim sadness.
“Maybe once or twice.” He held out his hand to her. “If you’re coming, make it fast.”
“What about my bag?”
He gave her a look. “Good riddance. It’s too girlie for you anyway.”
Ignoring the fact that she thought the same thing when her mother had given it to her, she said, “What is that supposed to mean?”
“It means that the whole ‘pink is for girls, blue is for boys’ gender color conventions probably offends your feminist sensibilities.”
They did. But the fact that he’d guessed that was mildly annoying. “Let me guess. Your favorite color is blue?”
His mouth quirked into something resembling a smile. “Get in the boat, Bambi.”
Bambi? She couldn’t decide whether the stripper name was better or worse than the slam at Jane Fonda’s regrettable photos on an antiaircraft gun on a visit to Hanoi during the Vietnam War.
