The Ocean Dark

21

Angie stood on the embarkation deck, one hand on the curved arm of a small crane to keep herself from falling as she bent to look down into the water. The lifeboat rocked and bobbed on the waves. She watched the chief mate and the cook grab hold of the cables and get them hooked up, ready to haul the lifeboat back on board. In the moonlight, Dwyer’s red hair looked like rust with hints of gold. While they’d been gone, Angie had had the unsettling realization that she had grown quite attached to Dwyer. It pissed her off.

“You bend over any farther, I’ll consider it an invitation,” Hank Boggs murmured, much too close to her ear. His breath felt warm.

“Back off before I chuck you overboard.”

Boggs’s chuffing laughter made her want to puke. There were four other guys on the embarkation deck — two assistant engineers and a pair of able-bodied seamen. They were more loyal to the Rio brothers than to the chief engineer, but one of the engineers, an eternal sidekick named Tupper, smirked knowingly every time Boggs made a piggish comment or tried brushing against her tits while they were working. They were cut from the same cloth, those two, except that Tupper didn’t have the balls to make a move on her.

“Maybe we should just leave Dwyer down there, huh?” Boggs murmured, still in close. She caught a whiff of whiskey on his breath before the Caribbean breeze swirled it away. “Drag him behind the ship, a kiddie ride for your little boy.”

Angie sighed, closing her eyes.

Boggs misinterpreted. “You know you’re gonna give it up eventually.”

It was the laugh that pushed her over the edge, a soft, suggestive chuckle, like they were already lovers. Like he knew her.

Angie turned, right hand already whipping up. She backhanded him across the face, knuckles slapping his flesh with a satisfying whack. Boggs jerked back, face screwing up in fury, bald pate flushing, but Angie wasn’t done. She followed through, matching his step back with her own forward motion, and jabbed his throat with her outstretched fingers.

His eyes went wide and he staggered back.

“Hey!” Tupper shouted, starting for her.

Angie spun on him, pointed a finger. “Just try. Go on.”

Tupper hesitated, glancing around at the other three guys but getting no support. The two deckhands weren’t going to even pretend they were interested, and the other engineer — Valente — just gave Tupper a disgusted look.

“He had it coming,” Angie said.

Boggs had both hands on his throat. His eyes were full of rage but he kept a wary distance. “You fucking bitch. I’ll have you off this boat.”

“Answer to my prayers,” Angie said. “But we’ll see who goes first.”

Then the chief mate started shouting from below. They were all set to come aboard. Boggs gave her a last, dangerous glance, then gestured to Tupper and Valente, who checked the cables that ran down the side of the ship from the twin cranes. The lines clear, Valente toggled the control and the cranes started to whine as the cables were reeled in, lifting the lifeboat out of the water.

“Captain on deck!” one of the hands snapped.

Angie turned to see Captain Rio striding toward them out of the darker shadows of the accommodations block. They were at the rearmost lifeboat on the starboard side, but other members of the crew could easily have seen them working if they happened to be out on the metal walkways on the starboard side of the tower. This late at night, the only people still up and around were likely to be the men on watch, one of whom would be up in the wheelhouse, and the other of whom was one of the deckhands down here with them.

Not that it really mattered. Nobody on this tub really believed they had clean hands. They might not know what the special cargo would be, but nearly every journey included at least one unscheduled stop. Most of the crew knew better than to ask questions. If they didn’t ask, they wouldn’t have to get answers they really didn’t want to hear.

“How’s it coming, Chief?” the captain asked.

Angie caught something in his tone, an edge that she didn’t like. Anger simmered there, and though his brown eyes were kind, she understood that if pushed, the captain might turn out to be a dangerous man.

“All’s well, Captain.”

Gabe gave Boggs a curious look. “Just the three of them?”

“Yes, sir.”

The captain nodded, then stood by quietly as the cranes whined and the cables retracted and the lifeboat rose. As the deckhands stepped forward to help guide the lifeboat onto the deck by hand, Captain Rio took up a position just beside Boggs, nearly out of Angie’s earshot.

He spoke softly, so that she barely heard.

“Angie’s liable to hurt you pretty badly if you keep pushing her, Hank,” the captain said, dark eyes stormy. “And I wouldn’t blame her.”

Boggs turned angrily toward the captain as though he might argue, but then he remembered his place, took a deep breath, and only glowered like a petulant child. When the captain looked over at Angie, his expression remained grim, but he nodded once, to let her know he understood, and the conflict was over. For now.

Tupper helped Miguel out of the lifeboat, the chief mate slinging a heavy canvas bag over one shoulder. Angie didn’t have to guess what was in that bag. She’d seen it before, and seen what came out of it. Guns.

Josh, the cook, stumbled out of the lifeboat on his own, glancing around as though expecting someone to be there to greet him. Angie stepped up to give Dwyer a hand. He smiled at her, let his fingers caress her wrist and arm, but didn’t kiss her or take her into his arms. Out here on deck, they were part of the Antoinette’s crew. What happened back in their quarters was another story. That was their time.

As the Rio brothers met on the deck, whispering to each other, backs to the others gathered there, motion from the accommodations block caught Angie’s attention. She glanced up to see a flash of white, then Tori emerged from the shadows of the stairs. In the moonlight, the woman looked pale, her dark hair pulled back in a ponytail. Her sweatshirt hid the curves of her body.

Angie studied her as she approached, assuming Tori had come down to meet Josh, but then she noticed the chill Tori gave off, and saw that she was purposely ignoring the cook. It seemed weird, given the intimacy Angie had witnessed between them earlier.

Tori went straight to Captain Rio and pulled him aside. Gabe bent to let her whisper to him, nodding. He gripped Tori’s upper arm in thanks or comfort, Angie couldn’t decide which, and the two of them gazed at each other for a moment.

What the hell? Angie thought. Is she making a play for him?

Gabe lowered his head, shoulders bunched, and sighed. Angie had spent enough time with the Rio brothers to recognize the danger of that pose, that sigh. It was a moment of hesitation the brothers shared, a moment while they tried to muster their calm, to contain their anger.

“Captain?” Dwyer asked worriedly. This might be his first journey aboard the Antoinette, but he knew that pose as well.

Miguel looked alarmed. The other crewmen had stepped back, waiting for orders. Josh glanced around, vaguely mystified.

Gabe Rio moved with a swift assurance that belied his size. In three strides he crossed the space that separated him from Josh, gathering up the front of the cook’s shirt, his right fist driving forward. Josh tried to twist away, to fall back from the blow, but the captain had an iron grip.

The first blow took Josh in the temple, staggering him. The second hammered his nose, blood squirting from both nostrils.

“Holy shit,” someone said. Angie wasn’t sure who.

The third time Gabe’s fist swung, he hit Josh so hard he couldn’t keep his grip on the cook’s shirt, and finally Josh fell backward, sprawling onto the deck, arms and legs splayed. He managed to get himself up on his elbows, but couldn’t rise any farther.

“Mr. Boggs, take this man to the rec room on level three, lock him in, and set a watch on both doors,” Captain Rio said.

“Yes, sir,” Boggs replied.

“The rest of you return to your duty or your quarters,” Gabe continued, before turning to his brother and Dwyer. “We need to talk.”

Angie watched all of this with astonishment, mouth slightly open. While the captain had been beating the shit out of Josh, Tori had stood by and watched, eyes dark with grim acceptance, perhaps even approval.

Now, as Angie walked away, she glanced over her shoulder. The captain had dismissed everyone except for Dwyer and Miguel, but Tori hadn’t left. She stood with the three men, talking low, hands gesturing. She looked worried. If it had just been her, Angie wouldn’t have been troubled, but all four of them wore anxious expressions.

If the Rio brothers were worried, Angie figured they were all pretty much screwed.