“No, sir. I’ve only been on my stroll for a moment,” I answer quickly. I note that his suspicion is back up. “I was getting some air,” I say again.
He frowns. “Fine. I need to get back to the festivities.” He clears his throat. “My son seems to have gone missing. As you’re out, I’ll ask you to help with that.”
“Your son?”
I think I know who he means, a young guy in his mid-twenties who was trudging along behind Mr. Peterson, dressed in a vintage gray suit and offering a perfectly neutral smile with bored eyes. But I’m thrown because, of all the additional job responsibilities I’ve picked up, tracking down wayward sons clearly falls outside the scope of my position.
“Keep an eye out as you finish your constitutional,” he says with a slight wave of his hand. “He’s likely to get himself into trouble, but I hardly have time for that. Bring him back if you find him.”
He looks at me expectantly, and feeling cornered, I cave. “I’ll do what I can.”
He nods curtly. “Very good.”
When he departs, I can’t help but laugh to myself. This is what I get for turning in immaculate spreadsheets every quarter. I’ve been promoted all the way up to babysitter.
What if his son refuses to come with me? This could go wrong in so many annoying ways.
My lungs full of fresh air, I walk to the far end of the deck to finish my stroll. Outside of finding a boyfriend and settling down, I’ve built the life I always dreamed of. No reason to let another unpleasant casino night spoil my success.
“Excuse me!” a voice calls out, barely discernible beneath the low, steady rumble of the ocean and the wind.
My pulse jumps. I look around, but there’s no one I can see.
“Is someone there?” the voice calls again.
I blink. “Hello?” I manage, and then quickly try louder. “Hello! Uh, Darryl Peterson’s son?”
Damn, I wish I knew his name.
“Can I get a little help?”
The voice sounds like it’s coming from overboard, but that can’t be right. Cautiously, I walk over to the edge and peer down. There are several life rafts attached to the side of the ship, and in one of them, I see the young man from earlier. He’s wearing an orange life jacket, unfastened in front, and he’s sitting on the raft and staring up at me.
I feel the blood drain from my face.
“Hello! Sorry to bother, but it seems I got myself stuck down here,” he calls out cheerfully.
My mouth hangs open. The rafts look secured, but the ocean is terrifying beneath him, waves crashing less than fifty feet below. How the man isn’t panicking, I’m not sure.
“Oh,” I say as my brain catches up, and then holler down to him. “Of course. Let me get help. Are you okay if I go to find the crew?”
He points up. “There’s a rope ladder right there. Could you just throw it down? I’m ready to get back on the deck.”
I look at the rope ladder. “Are you sure that’s safe?”
“That’s what it’s there for.”
I check carefully. The rope ladder is firmly attached to the ship, and it looks as though, even if he were to slip while climbing, there are several life rafts and structural elements to catch him.
My brain races. If I leave him alone, he might blame me and tell his father that I abandoned him. Even worse, something awful could happen while I’m gone. He could end up hurt, and I’d be responsible.
“Okay,” I concede despite my doubts. I take the ladder and toss it down, and it catches on the ledge beneath me, out of his reach.
“Damn it,” I curse under my breath, but he lets out an easy laugh.
“Close!” he yells.
It would be nice if he took this a little more seriously, but I shake that off.
