The Pandora Box (13 page)

“What evidence?”

“Something about grand theft and espionage.”

He stopped abruptly again. “That’s it, sweetheart. The deal’s off. You can take your—”

“Hawk.”

“I can’t go anywhere with that kind of—”

“Hawkins! Do you want to hear what I have to say, or don’t you?”

“You’ve obviously said enough already.” He looked back at the dark car. “What are they waiting for?”

“They’re watching us, probably.” She coaxed him along once more. “To see if you’re acting the way a concerned, overly distraught husband should be.”

“Husband?”

“I let them think we eloped.”

“How could that help anything?”

“Everything happened so fast, I—”

“You realize by doing that, you’ve linked me up with the same charges?” This time when he swore, it was not under his breath. “What were you thinking?”

“It was the only thing that came to my mind. I guess I was—”

“How come they let you off if they suspect you of something that serious?”

“I had to agree we’d work with them, or they wouldn’t have.”

The next swear word he breathed with such vehemence that she inwardly braced for a complete blow-up. But he managed to keep it intact for a few moments of determined silence while all the implications sank in. “You had no right to get the rest of us mixed up in something like that when—”

“Oh, what was I supposed to do?” She ducked in time to avoid an overly long bowsprit that stretched out over the dock. “I just spent two of the scariest hours of my life thinking I was going to end up as a statistic somewhere! They said I could either go to jail or cooperate...what would you have done?”

“I wouldn’t have implicated my friends.”

Now she was the one to stop and confront. “You’re an American, aren’t you? Are you saying if your government asked for your help with something, you’d have the audacity and the...the capacity, to say no?”

He looked at her for a moment and in the fading gray of evening, she thought she detected a sudden glimmer of distrust in his eyes.

He reached out a tentative hand before she realized what he was doing, ran a searching finger along the neckline of her blouse. “Are you wearing a wire?”

She pushed his hand away. “Of course not! How could you even think something like that?”

“Because that sounded like a textbook question for a commie rap, that’s why. I spent twenty years of my life in the military and the wrong answer to a question like that could get me in some serious trouble.”

Worry softened the rugged handsomeness of his features and made him look vulnerable, causing Dee’s conscience a twinge of regret over the predicament. She sighed miserably.

“How was I supposed to know that? I was scared and that’s all I could think of. Oh, I’ll...do what I can to straighten things out tomorrow. But let’s not argue anymore, Hawkins. I’m cold and I’m tired.”

Her voice quavered and she realized she was on the verge of a good cry. She didn’t dare say another word. Instead, she pulled the windbreaker more snuggly around her and began walking.

But he did notice. He hesitated only a moment, then put an arm around her. He drew her close up against him again as they walked the rest of the way in silence.

An odd sense of security swept through her and the reassuring strength of the protective gesture had a soothing effect. He couldn’t mean it. She chided herself for being so impressionable. She was just having a delayed reaction to the trying experience. Perfectly natural. Still, she melted against the inviting shelter of his body, enjoying the warmth and the way he moved with an easy stride.

Dee felt even more secure in
Pandora’s
welcoming atmosphere. The spacious main cabin was warm from the stove fixed to the forward bulkhead that radiated a fine, even heat throughout the entire yacht.

As soon as Dee climbed down inside, Marion threw her arms around her and cried.

Even Starr was misty-eyed as he mixed her one of his own variations of a hot, buttered rum, which Dee insisted he leave the rum out of.

“Listening to this crazy woman for the last half hour,” he shook his head, “almost had me convinced you were the latest victim of a serial killer.”

“Well, I was worried!” Marion pulled a tissue from her pocket and dabbed at her nose. “Oh, Dee, I just didn’t know what to think!”

“I was pretty scared myself,” she admitted.

“Hawk’s been pacing the docks out there for the last hour.” Starr handed Dee a steaming mug brimming with all sorts of spicy aromas. “I thought he was going to hire a taxi and start combing the streets when Marion came back without you.”

“Worried about my investment.” Hawk closed the companionway doors.

Dee sank into the comfortable red upholstery and took a sip of the hot drink. “Mmmm. Thank you. I practically froze walking down here.”

“There’s been a change in plans,” Hawk informed them. “Instead of hitting the town tonight, I think we’d all feel better if we just barbecued some steaks right here. That way we can have a group conference.”

“That suits me,” said Marion. “I’ve had all the excitement I can take for one day.”

There was a knock against the hull.

“Hello the boat...anybody aboard?” A man called.

Dee recognized Eddington’s voice immediately, but she didn’t say a word as Hawk turned and went back up on deck again.

“Your wife forgot her camera.” The officer handed it over the rail. “Name’s Eddington. I work for the Bureau.”

Hawk took the camera. “I don’t know whether to shake your hand or punch you in the nose,” he admitted. “I haven’t had time to hear the details.”

“Well, it looks like you have a real adventure cut out for you. Good luck, Major Wayne Hawkins, US Army.”

“Retired.”

“Two years ago, honorable discharge, out of Honolulu, Hawaii. We did some checking on you, too.”

“I didn’t agree to anything.”

“Better talk to that wife of yours, then. The trouble with hasty marriages, they sometimes conceal surprises. In case you haven’t noticed, she has an odd mixture of guts and patriotism. Dangerous combination.” He reached into an inside pocket of his jacket and took out a business card. “You can reach me at this number if you have any questions.”

“I have plenty of questions, bud,” Hawkins replied. “The first one is: what makes you think I’ll go along with any of this?”

“Because according to your records, you’re a pretty gutsy patriot yourself.” As if that explained everything, he turned to leave. “See you around, Major.”

16

The Round Table

“Nonsense! If you want to do it, you can do it. The question is, do you want to do it?”
~
Nellie Bly

Hawk returned without a word, placed the camera inside the engine room, and turned on the diesel. The motor came to life with a loud, steady hum.

“Holy fright,” Starr complained. “Are we gonna make another midnight run? I’m not familiar with these waters.”

“We’re going out for dinner after all.” He looked at Dee as he spoke. “It seems Miss Lois Lane here has fixed it so we can’t do any real talking aboard the yacht. Not until we get out to sea about three days anyway.”

“I’m sure I don’t…” Dee defended.

“Let’s save the explanations for the round table. You can fill us in on your little episode this afternoon and then we can all take a vote whether or not we want to go on.”

“Why wouldn’t we want to go on?” Starr asked.

“I want to go on,” Marion said cheerily. “I haven’t had this much excitement in years.”

“You might change your mind when you hear what we’ve got ourselves into. For the record, no more talking about anything but cruising while we’re here in port. Food, bargains, the weather…we’re all on vacation. Got it?”

Dee exchanged her short-sleeve blouse for a white angora sweater and splashed on some cologne. The cheery fire and hot drink had warmed her, and she was finally starting to feel halfway normal again as they made their way back up to Market Street.

Marion and Starr seemed to have developed a companionable rapport and were walking a little way ahead, enjoying the sights.

Dee and Hawkins were walking in a silence that was charged with volatile unspoken words. Halfway to the restaurant, she thought he was going to put his arm around her, but he only steered her clear of an oncoming pedestrian whom she failed to notice because she was stealing a glance at Hawk.

Martinelli’s was a cozy little Italian place overlooking the water, complete with red-checked cloths and candles on every table.

They picked a private far-off corner that was made further ideal by the soft background of Italian music and the pleasant hum and buzz of a popular restaurant. They listened to Dee’s story of how she had been whisked off Market Street, pausing only to order large platters of scampi, manicotti, and linguini with clams.

“Let’s get to the vital question.” Hawk buttered another slice of warm sourdough bread before he looked across the table at Dee. “Why did you lie?”

“First of all,” she explained, “I didn’t lie. I just threw out a sort of what-if scenario because they had me backed into a corner. I said maybe I had done it, and they just naturally believed I had. They were trying to intimidate me. I needed a diversion, and that was the best I could come up with on the spur of the moment.”

Marion and Starr looked at her.

She didn’t continue.

Hawk jabbed at his salad as if he had a personal vendetta against it. After a few moments, he tossed his fork onto his plate with a decisive thump and took a drink of water.

“Well, Dee,” Marion finally prompted, “what exactly was it that you maybe did?”

“When they asked me why I left Oregon so fast, I said
maybe
I eloped.”

Hawk reached for his wine.

Marion’s mouth fell open.

Star took another piece of warm bread from the basket. “What business is it of theirs anyway?” he asked before returning his attention to linguini with clams.

Dee pushed her barely touched scampi aside and put the red linen napkin from her lap back onto the table. “Quite a bit, actually. You see, they know about the boat and the diamonds.”

Starr dropped the bread that was halfway to his mouth.

“They know everything. More than us, even, because I had no idea Peterson was some Nazi war criminal they’ve been following for years.”

“Wait a minute,” Hawk spoke. “Something doesn’t make sense, here. If they were following him for years, how come they never arrested him?”

“Because by the time they did find him,” Dee replied, “he was working as a Soviet agent in some spy ring that—”

Hawk swore so loud that the pleasant hum of voices around their table paused .

“We could be in some serious trouble, here.” Starr moaned. “A no-good Nazi, Russian spy! Holy fright, we could be…”

Hawk shook his head and swore again.

“I think it’s only me that’s in trouble, at the moment,” Dee tried to sound reassuring. “You would all just be considered innocent bystanders, since you’ve only known me for a few days. Especially if you quit right now.”

Marion blinked. “What about me, I’ve known you for years! Dee Parker, this is worse than driving us into that slum—what am I going to tell my kids? I’ll be a disgrace to Bill’s memory!”

“Marion, I’m so sorry!” Dee felt as if a crushing weight were pressing down on her. “But I think as long as you go home right away, you’ll be all right. I’m the one who actually took the ring from the safety deposit box. I guess they were watching it because they figured he’d come back for it sooner or later.”

“What ring?” Hawk asked.

Dee felt a stab of guilt at the worry she saw in his eyes. “The Strassgaard ring. They knew all about it. That I could only get it from Peterson and then only if I were collaborating with him in some way.”

Now, it was Starr who wore the mask of astonishment. “You mean you got the Strassgaard ring? Right now? That’s a piece of the collection! By the hoagie—that’s proof right there that this thing is no hoax! What do you think, Hawk—she’s got the ring!”

“I think our...partner...was holding out on us, that’s what I think.” He answered without taking his gaze off Dee. “And if this hadn’t happened, we might have—”

“Just out of curiosity,” Starr turned back to Dee without waiting for him to finish, “what did they say it was worth?”

“All they told me was that it’s listed on some international directory of stolen jewels and—”

“Oh, dear Lord!” Marion moaned.

“Whatever it’s worth,” Dee insisted, “
it’
s not what the FBI is after. They want Heinrich Keller. Of course, I told them I never heard of Heinrich Keller. But they didn’t believe me. I had the ring, I left town suddenly, and I left on Goering’s boat. Which is what implicated me and linked me with Keller. You see? You really are just innocent bystanders, so the best thing to do is quit right now.”

She sighed, picked up her fork and pushed at the unfinished scampi. “All I have going for me is the fatal blunder story. Which is the truth—even though nobody believes it.”

“It was fatal, all right,” Hawk accused. “Do you realize they investigated me?”

“They investigated all of us, but I was the only one they picked up. I told them I befriended a crazy old man who left me a boat and a map and a tantalizing piece of jewelry to prove there was more. Which is all true, it really is. The fatal part was letting them believe that during the course of planning the trip, I fell in love with Hawkins and...eloped.”

Marion gasped. “Dee Parker—that wasn’t fair to Hawk!”

“They investigated all of us?” Starr bawled. “Holy fright, I haven’t filed my taxes for three years!”

“You should have asked the rest of us before you agreed to work with them,” Hawk said.

“Hawkins,” Dee finally felt her patience beginning to crumble. “I wasn’t in any position to call a committee meeting. I agreed because being unwilling to cooperate with your government is dangerously close to subversion when you’re being accused of...subversion!”

“People go to jail for tax evasion,” Starr mumbled.