The Pandora Box (24 page)

“Are you a doctor or something?” Her mind raced for ways to sound more casual. “I mean, not many people could do what you did last night. And why did you say I wouldn’t want to know?”

He finished the last of the orange and wiped his hands on his jeans. “Because it turns most people off, that’s all. I got in the habit of avoiding the subject. Especially now that I don’t do it anymore.”

“What exactly was it?”

“I started off in the Army as a medic.” He got up and rummaged through one of the seat lockers for a sleeping bag. “Then went into forensic medicine. Know anything about that?”

“Cause of death investigations,” she replied. “Police work, court rooms, and... autopsies.”

“Yep. I was the military equivalent of a coroner. Like I said, it turns a lot of people off.”

“I thought you were in computers.”

“What gave you that idea?” He unzipped the bag, sat down next to her again, and spread it over both of them.

Dee’s heart began to pound. “The lady at the port office in Oregon said you were supposed to fix the computer. So I assumed…”

He put is harms around her and leaned back comfortably against the seat. “They just got that set-up put in down at the port and think anyone who can reset when it freezes or recover something they lost, is a computer genius. You feel good, Dee.”

“Then I suppose you spent a certain amount of time at hospitals.”

“Some. But why all the sudden curiosity? Looking for common threads to explain your impulses?”

“Maybe.”

“We have a lot in common, Dee. More than you realize. But for the moment, let’s just stick with the impulses.”

29

Heart to Heart

“Well, by all that is wonderful, where am I?” ~ Nellie Bly

Just before Hawk finally settled down to get some sleep, he brushed the curls back from Dee’s face and kissed her again. “I’m having a hard time believing you’re real. Not going to disappear or anything, are you?”

“I’m not the disappearing type.”

“Who are you, Dee?”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Well, I think I better give you the short version.” She twisted her hair up into the clip and put her hat on as she talked. “In case you need a little more time to get used to what you’ve gotten yourself into.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to you. But go ahead.”

“I’m Dorothy Jane Parker, youngest of five…”

“Dorothy Jane Hawkins.”

“Hawkins.” Dee conceded with a smile. “Youngest of five children born to a fire-breathing preacher and a saint straight from heaven. Dad’s words, not mine. Because he says only a bona fide saint could ever live with a preacher. Anyway, they run a conference center up on the Wenachee Pass, in Oregon. Along with my two older brothers and their families.”

“That explains the religion. Now what about the—”

“It isn’t a religion, it’s a relationship.” She looked straight into his eyes for emphasis. “Like yours and mine, only without all the misunderstandings.”

His eyes twinkled with amusement. “You sure can put a twist on things, sugar. Where’s the adventure fit in?”

“That part’s just a matter of preference I’d have to blame mostly on the way I was raised. My front yard was a lake. My backyard was a state park that still holds some of the densest mountain wilderness in the country. My brothers and I had free reign of it.”

“So why aren’t you tramping around in some jungle trying to save the world? How did you end up with a journalism career?”

“Let’s just say I read a biography of Nellie Bly at a very impressionable age. She didn’t just speak up about things that were wrong, she actually did something to change them. In some very adventuresome ways, I might add. I wanted to be like her.”

“That’s all it took?” He laughed, and the sparkle in his smile caused a warmth to spread through her. “So you are trying to save the world. That’s an impossible job, sweets.”

“Not the whole world, only whatever I encounter along my own road. But it’s a lot harder than I thought. So far, I haven’t been able to come close to the kind of results her reporting produced. I guess I’m just not brave enough.”

“I don’t know many people brave enough to take off on a fifty-six foot ketch with a couple of strangers. Even for the money. Especially these days.”

“Thanks, but unless I can do something worthwhile with the money, what good is it? My biggest fear is that, deep down, I might turn out just as ordinary as most people and not be able to handle it.”

“You’re more than most people can handle already. But how come, with that pretty smile and those long eyelashes, you made it all the way to thirty-one without getting caught by some guy who had his hopes up for you?”

“I had four brothers who chased away every boy who was ever interested in me. After that it was a habit. And after that, there seemed to be a terrible shortage of appealing men. I was wrapped up in my work, and…the years went by.”

“Then how did I get so lucky?”

“It wasn’t luck, it was God’s timing.”

“Now there’s something I’d like to believe. It wasn’t my charm, I know that much.”

“That’s not exactly true, either. You swept me off my feet, Hawkins.” She sighed and snuggled close to him. “Starting with that first kiss.”

“I meant that kiss.”

“I know.”

“You had me the day you dropped in without knocking, though,” he admitted. “The first time I laid eyes on you. Only I didn’t want to go through another attachment. Truth is, I just spent ten years married to the most beautiful witch in the world who did nothing but try to destroy me.”

“Starr told me.” A gust of cold wind rippled through his hair and she ran a hand through it. “And he told me not to fall for you because after you got what you wanted, you’d probably cut and run. Are you going to cut and run, Wayne Hawkins? Now that you got what you wanted from me?”

“I haven’t got enough of it, that’s for sure. It works both ways you know. If you turn out to be another witch, I’m done for. I don’t have it in me to go through that twice.”

“I’m not the wicked witch, I’m Dorothy.” She moved away from him long enough to pull the fur-lined hood of her jacket up over her hat and tie it snuggly beneath her chin. “The follow-you-all-the-way-to-the-Emerald-City-type Dorothy. Be careful what road you lead me down, Hawkins.”

“I will.”

He slept for three hours.

Still unwilling to be far from her, he stayed on deck and finally drifted off to sleep after she promised to wake him if there was any break in the clouds.

Three days of being tossed by the storm had driven them too far off course to simply resume their original heading. Since the loran signals used by aircraft did not come in as clear this far out on the water, the only way to determine exactly where they were, was to take an old fashioned reading with a sextant.

When Starr finally stumbled up on deck with a cup of warmed over coffee, he found Dee nestled against one of the canvass rails on the boat’s lower side, bundled into a down, rose-colored ski-jacket she had put on over the top of her sailing jacket and lifeline. She had gloves on and was reading a Louis L’Amour book.

Hawk was asleep somewhere under the sleeping bag on the seat cushion below her, without even his head sticking out.

“About time he gave in and got some sleep. But, man, it’s freezing up here.” He set his cup down for a moment, to bring his own hood up over his dark head and tie the strings. Then he picked up the cup again, took a long swallow, and spat his first mouthful over the lee rail. He set it aside a second time and began to rummage through the seat locker across from them. “This needs something.”

“The storm might be over,” Dee said, “but I haven’t seen the sun all morning and it’s after noon, already. I hope this isn’t going to be the way it is from now on. Too cold!”

“Well…” He poured half his coffee over the side and added something from a flask to the brim. “The barometer’s either broke, or we’re in for trouble. It’s still stuck hard in the storm zone.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means we’re just getting some kind of lull here, and the front’s still bearing down on us.”

“Oh, no!” Dee looked up at the dark clouds that pressed close against the slow, rolling, molten sea. “Can we take it, Starr? What if it’s worse than last time?”

“Long as we do our jobs, she can take it.” He glanced up at the foremast. “We’re the ones with the error factor. She’s made for this kind of stuff. They don’t make ‘em like this anymore. Over seventy years old and she’s still as sound and pretty as the day they first rolled her off the blocks.”

“Hard to believe.”

“These days it is. Nice to know a few things are still around that last. You tired?”

“Not yet. After a full night’s sleep, I feel like a real person.”

“I think I’ll make something hot, then. If the weather kicks up too soon we might not get another chance. Personally, I’m sick of sandwiches.”

“Look in on Marion when you’re down there, will you?”

“I tried, but she threw something at me. I guess she got a look at herself in the mirror, and thought she’d been dead for two days.” He finished the last of his coffee. “I never saw a woman so mad at the world for helping her.”

“Maybe it’s time for more aspirin.”

“I’m not going in there. She’s a dead shot. Hit me right on the head with one of her books.” He pulled a rumpled paperback romance novel out of his back pocket and flipped through the pages.

“You stay up here for a few minutes, then, and I’ll go. I’m a little worried about her.”

She put a foot down on the seat and stepped over Hawk. “Starr?” She glanced back at the sleeping bag to make sure he hadn’t wakened. “Have you ever heard of Wyngate State Hospital?”

“Wyngate? Sure. Everybody’s heard of Wyngate.”

“Hawk hasn’t.”

“He sticks around Oregon long enough he will. Couple years back there was a rumor they were doing some kind of experiments over there. Just like in those Nazi prison camps. It was only a rumor, though. You can’t get away with that kind of stuff nowadays. Media would eat you alive.”

“That’s funny you would compare them to the Nazis.”

“Maybe I’ve got Nazis on the brain with all this talk of Keller and everything. Just popped into my head.”

“I spent two months investigating Wyngate.”

“That’s right, you’re the media. So what did you find out? Nothing, I bet. There’s always spooky stories floating around about state hospitals. They’re scary places.”

“I found out they’re doing illegal medical experiments over there. And selling human organs for transplants on the black market.” She glanced at Hawk again. “That’s what I found out.”

“Can you believe that?” He sank down onto the seat opposite Hawk and shook his head. “What are they going to do now? Shut it down?”

“I don’t know. The police were still looking into things when I left. But I have a feeling some of the Wyngate staff are going to start scattering in all directions. Especially since the whole story is out, by now.”

“Dangerous job you got, Dee.” He handed her Marion’s book to take back down. “Certain people could get upset at the person who let that kind of cat out of the bag.”

“That’s why I’m on vacation.”

“You call this a vacation? I never worked so hard and with such lousy hours, in my life!”

“Yes, but if you stick it out”—she scanned the horizon out of habit—”the pay could be awfully good.”

“That’s a fact.” He laughed. “If the weather doesn’t get us or the other guys don’t beat us to it or the Ruskies don’t get ticked. Sometimes I think the older I get, the worse kinda fool I turn into! But, here I am. Just like the…”

“Starr, there’s something out there! A flash of light or something. There it is again, see?”

He followed her gaze.

A speck of brightness blinked twice and disappeared.

“Uh-oh...” He yelled, “Hey, Hawk!” with such urgency that Hawk rose up from under the sleeping bag like a whale breaking free of the sea.

“What’s wrong?” He crossed the cockpit in one smooth motion.

“Take a look at this, boy,” Starr reached for a pair of binoculars and peered through them. “We got another boat coming up on our tail.”

30

Distress Signals

“Someone suggested that a revolver would be a good companion piece...but I had such a strong belief in the world’s greeting me as I greeted it, that I refused to arm myself.”
~
Nellie Bly

Hawk peered through the binoculars and then lowered them. “I didn’t expect to run into anybody this far out.”

“Maybe they’re just cruising,” Dee offered. “Most boaters are, you know. There aren’t many out diamond-hunting around here.”

“There aren’t many taking any delightful little cruises to Siberia, either,” he answered dryly. “It’s not exactly inviting, even at this time of year.”

“But isn’t this the way to Tokyo?” she asked.

“If we haven’t been blown too far south in that storm.” He handed the glasses back to Starr and reached for his jacket. “We should have passed by the Tokyo heading a couple days ago.”

“The way they’re moving out there,” Starr informed them, “looks like they’re under power. If that’s the case”—he lowered the binoculars—”they could catch up to us a little after dark.”

Hawk stepped up to sit on the top of the cabin house where he could see over the canvas rails. “Well,” he finally replied, “we can’t take any chances. Let’s get the guns out and make sure they’re good and visible when they pull up alongside.”

“Guns!” Dee looked at him with a shocked expression. “We can’t get involved with guns!”

“There’s no law out here, sugar, you have to have guns. People get their boats hijacked out from under them all the time. Less apt to happen if your guns are showing. Hand me the glasses again, Starr.”

“Anybody who has guns,” she declared, “will sooner or later come up with a reason to use them. I’m a very firm believer in that.”

Starr took a rifle case out of one of the seat lockers. “I’m a firm believer in covering my own butt.”