Boned2 (Mandarin Connection Book 5) Page 3

  Karl looked at me, hard.

  “Rachel, I know this is hard for you. I never meant for it to turn out this way,” he said.

  “But, you have to believe me, it was the only way,” he said.

  Then, he went off on some maritime mumbo jumbo that boiled down to we were leaving, because the rest of the Alpha Team and Black Dog and yada yada yada.

  I tuned out about then, since I was more interested in just what the hell he meant.

  He was trying very hard to not let something slip out.

  I knew him.

  And, I knew how men lied to try to make sure they didn’t hurt a woman’s feelings.

  Karl was holding out on me.

  We spoke another few moments, and then he found something to busy himself with, and off he went.

  The important thing was we were going out to sea, again.

  We were to make way in the morning.

  It would take us almost two whole months to travel to Singapore!

  And, since Julie was still hobbling around a bit, we added another crew member, whose name was Sylvia Hawthorne.

  —————

  Sylvia was very pretty.

  Haughty, athletic and extremely capable.

  Tall.

  Very well-mannered.

  Cultured, even.

  Her CV bore out her experience, and within a few days of meeting her, Karl had made his decision.

  She’d been vetted and spoken of in good terms by her references.

  Sylvia had one striking feature, that didn’t really detract from her beauty, but was a bit startling nonetheless.

  Apparently, she’d had breast cancer at some point, as she’d had a partial mastectomy of her right breast.

  You didn’t notice it unless she wore a bikini top, and she almost never did.

  I only found out about it by accident, when I ran into her coming from the yacht’s shower one evening before we embarked.

  “It’s not a big deal,” she said, when it was obvious I was embarrassed.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry or anything, but…” I replied.

  “It happened a while ago,” she explained, matter-of-factly.

  “My doctor had noticed a spot on my mammogram, and the tests confirmed it was a problem. So, it was surgery or chemo. The chemo made me so sick, I finally opted for the surgery. The doctor was very good, as you can see,” she said.

  She lifted her arm, and I could see the scar tracing a line around her body.

  It almost looked elegant.

  “No worries, Rachel,” she assured me.

  “Thank you, and I apologize,” I said.

  “Let’s just forget all about it,” she said, with a smile.

  “OK, thanks!” I said.

  Then, she walked off into her room and closed the door.

  I was secretly glad she had forgiven me my awkwardness.

  But, I also sensed she was somehow not telling me the whole story.

  I went in and took a shower of my own, and soon had put the entire episode out of my mind.

  —————

  We were finally underway, again!

  Although the last time I was on the water, the most devastating tragedy of my life (next to losing Moms!) had occurred, I found it difficult to stay depressed.

  The ocean’s healing powers, the fresh air, the salt spray, the white clouds, the hot sun, and the keening birds worked their magic, and within a week or so, I had my sea legs back.

  From then on, I tried to keep busy, helping where I could.

  I managed to become the de facto secretary of the group, hanging out in the radio room and relaying messages between Karl and the others.

  We all fell into routine, and it was cleansing and relaxing, and occasionally busy.

  And then, we hit another storm.

  This one wasn’t as severe as the one where Bone had been lost, but it was powerful.

  We hit the outer bands of wind and rain, and the sea had frothed up.

  About twenty nautical miles later, the swells had the “Miss T” rolling side to side, and pitching up about ten to twelve to feet.

  “Go inside, Rachel!” shouted Karl, as the wind and rain began whipping the sails around.

  “Dean, furl the sails, we’ll go with the jib, and the motor!” he shouted more loudly.

  “I’ll be okay, Karl!” I said.

  I wasn’t going to wuss out, and I knew he was worried about my memories of Bone from the last trip out.

  “Rachel, in about five minutes, I am going to be very busy, and so are the rest of the crew. Please, girl, just go to your berth. If something happens and I need you, I will send Sylvia down to get you! OK? OK!” he said.

  It was an order.

  I was stung a bit by his harshness, and stomped off, pouting and trying to find something pithy and witty to sting him back, but I realized, as I got to my berth, that he was just worried about me.

  I sat down in a chair, and tried to drink some water, but the glass was tossing and rolling with the ship, so I just buckled up to ride it out.

  About a half-hour later, Sylvia asked me to go to the radio room and signal to Stephan that we were doing okay, and maybe would actually gain a day, as the winds were taking us in the right direction for a change.

  Stephan and I had a brief chat, and I signed off.

  I sighed.

  The yacht was still pounding through the rough seas, but my mind had moved onto a rougher problem.

  Stephan Jaeger was in full-blown love with me.

  I could sense it every time I spoke to the man.

  There was just no hiding it, and he didn’t even try.

  Oh, Stephan never was anything but a gentleman, and never expressed his desires or needs, at least consciously.

  But, beneath the surface of his words, I could see it.

  It wasn’t the kind of love I’d had with Bone.

  And, it wasn’t the kind of sibling attraction I got from Karl.

  This was the real thing.

  And, it scared me more than the raging storm that had claimed my soul-mate, and the howling winds that roared outside our tiny, bobbing vessel, tossing us around like a child’s plaything.

  I knew I would have to face Stephan, and deal with his feelings soon.

  Because, with Bone gone, I began to find a small flame burning within me.

  And, every time I spoke to Stephan, it flared anew.

  —————

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Sylvia had brought a cat along with her, when she’d shown up.

  Its name was Quint, and it was a tomcat.

  It had a bit of a mean streak, and was downright finicky.

  It didn’t like to be petted, but it would sit on your lap if it wanted to do so.

  And, when it got up, it made sure to stretch out its claws, and draw a little blood.

  That happened one time to me, when I was wearing a short skirt.

  My thighs looked as though I were an addict!

  That bastard!

  I made sure to try to give Quint a wide berth, but it didn’t always work out.

  A boat, even a yacht as nicely appointed as the “Miss T”, was still pretty small out on the ocean.

  We eventually came to an understanding, and then a truce.

  I figured out old Quint like two things – raw tuna, and to have its tail stroked.

  So, I would arrange to feed him a can, once a week, being sure that he knew that -I-was the only one who cared enough to do so.

  And, when he wanted to sit, if he looked ready to bolt, and the claws were coming out, I would grab his tail and stroke it until he calmed down enough for me to stand up.

  Oh, it wasn’t foolproof.

  But, it worked well enough so that I avoided a lot of bloodshed.

  Even Sylvia noticed.

  “You’ve got some magic touch with Quint,” she said to me one morning.

  “How so?” I asked.

  “Normally, he hates pretty mu
ch everyone except me,” she replied.

  “Well, he’s just a typical male mammal, right? Feed him and stroke him and there you go,” I said, smiling.

  “No, that’s not it at all, Rachel,” Sylvia said, quite coolly.

  “You have that effect on many men, but Quint is not one of them. He likes you. He watches you sleep, and I’ve seen him try to play with you. Plus, he brings you presents,” she said.

  Was she jealous of my relationship with a cat?

  That was just crazy!

  “What presents?” I asked, astounded.

  “The dead seagulls?” she replied.

  Again, very cool.

  What was this about?

  “I thought Karl had said they had been killed by the radar’s microwave array or just unlucky enough to hit a tie-down?” I said to her.

  She laughed.

  It was a bit disconcerting.

  It wasn’t a very pretty laugh.

  “Oh, my! Not at all! That cat hunted and killed them. For you!” she said to me.

  Her beautiful eyes were hard.

  I didn’t think she liked me much.

  Then, they softened, as if she had remembered something about me, or caught herself and decided to be nice.

  “Quint is a skilled hunter, and only kills for pleasure. I’ve seen him do so, ever since he and I decided to join forces, so to speak. He puts up with me only because I feed him,” she said, with a touch of disappointment.

  “I’m sure he likes you…” I began.

  Then, Sylvia stood up and strode off.

  I thought I heard her mutter something as she left.

  It sounded like “Not even a fucking mouse.”

  Talk about weird!

  —————

  Over the next few days, Sylvia and I had some more testy moments.

  It finally culminated with a situation that involved Karl and Olga.

  One of Sylvia’s duties was to assure that the laundry was stowed properly, and that the dishes and other loose items were secured.

  My experience with the Storm had indelibly etched the immense importance of battening down the hatches, and securing loose items.

  The “Miss T” had been in complete disarray, and it took almost a week for a cleanup crew to make repairs and fix and replace broken crockery, vases and electronics once we’d made it to harbor.

  Of course, it was that fucking cat that was the initiator of the argument.

  While I was on deck, sunning and still fretting about my feelings for Bone, there was a loud crash from the bar.

  One of the TV monitors had fallen to the deck, and smashed to pieces!

  Seconds later, Quint came sauntering out of the lounge, ignoring everyone.

  He had somehow managed to dislodge the monitor.

  A piece of what appeared to be glass was sticking from his fur.

  Sylvia, concerned that the cat might be injured, rushed over to it, at the same time Quint jumped onto my back.

  I screeched as his claws bit into me!

  “Ouch! You fucker! I thought we were friends!” I yelled.

  I rolled over, and Sylvia caught him in her arms.

  He yowled and spat, and then fell to the deck, as she hadn’t a good hold on his writhing body.

  His head smacked on the decking, and he howled with rage, glaring at Sylvia.

  “Fuck you! You unappreciative little monster! Let this bitch feed you from now on!” she hissed.

  I was aghast.

  I knew she was not on the best of terms with me, but I had not realized the depth of her hatred of me.

  Or her jealousy.

  “Hey, now! It was just an accident!” I said.

  I was trying to forget she’d called me a bitch, when she smacked me in the face with her open hand.

  “Bitch! You don’t deserve him! He’s mine! Do you hear? Mine!” she yelled.

  I blocked another slap, but then she did something unexpected.

  I don’t know what it was, but I was suddenly on the ground, gasping for breath.

  I tried to defend myself by shoving a deck chair at her.

  It bounced off her foot, knocking off her shoe.

  The leg of the chair caught her shin, and she howled in pain.

  “You cunt! I’ll kill you for that!” she yelled, and I could see in her eyes that she meant it.

  I began to crawl backwards, afraid that she might make good on her threat.

  Just then, Karl and Dean came up from behind her.

  Karl grabbed her arm, and then she spun around so fast and hit him hard with her foot!

  I couldn’t believe it!

  Dean tried to grab her around her waist, but she spun away from him.

  She ran down to her cabin, locking the door behind her.

  “Are you ok?” asked Dean and Karl at the same time.

  “Yes, I’m a bit shook up is all,” I said.

  “What happened?” said Karl.

  He looked very concerned, and angry.

  “I don’t know. The cat must have knocked over the monitor in the bar. It had a sliver of plastic or glass in it, and came over to me. I was going to take it out, but Sylvia came running over, and it jumped on me and clawed me. Then, I guess it must have bit her and she went batshit!” I exclaimed.

  Karl took it in, looking over the damage to the ship – and my back.

  “There’s some light scratches, but it didn’t break the skin,” he said.

  “Why did she hit you?” asked Dean.

  “I think she thinks I am trying to steal her cat,” I said.

  It sounded ridiculous.

  Karl smirked, and Dean looked around.

  Karl rubbed his abdomen where Sylvia had kicked him.

  “She, contrary to popular belief, does NOT kick like a girl,” he said, wincing.

  “I want you to avoid her for the time being, while I decide whether she gets off on the next passing freighter, or back in the harbor,” said Karl.

  “Dean, you let her know she’s confined to quarters until further notice. If she tries anything, you come get me. No excuses. We can handle it at that point,” he said.

  “Do you think she’s dangerous, Skipper?” Dean asked.

  He looked a bit worried.

  “No, I think she’s PMS’ing, to be frank. I’ve seen this kind of thing with women at sea. It depends on a number of factors, but Rachel must have reminded her of someone. Maybe a rival for an ex or something?” he muttered.

  I was shocked at Karl’s chauvinism, until I realized that he’d probably been in this situation before.

  He’d traveled all over the world, with all manner of people, and was a very good judge of people’s character.

  “This just doesn’t sit with her referrals,” he said.

  I knew he was just thinking out loud, but the way he rubbed his bruised torso, and the way he narrowed his eyes as he looked down the hallway to her quarters led me to believe he knew something.

  Things fell into a sort of rhythm, again.

  Tanya, Julie and Dean took care of cleaning the decks, and Sylvia did most of the cooking, when not confined to her berth.

  I had to hand it to her, she could really make a decent meal out of the stuff in our larder.

  Still, I kept thinking she always added a ‘secret’ ingredient to my portions, but the others ate from the same platters of food that I did, and none complained.

  I guessed she wasn’t all that stupid, or vindictive.

  I guessed wrong…

  CHAPTER FIVE

  A week later, I ran into Sylvia, coming from the galley.

  She was carrying a large tub of what looked like peeled potatoes.

  I didn’t want to engage with her.

  So, I walked the long way around the ship.

  But, she must have taken a short cut, or gone through amidships, because I ended up face-to-face with her as I rounded a corner.

  “Uh,” I started to say, backing away.

  “Don’t worry, Miss B
loomberg, ma’am,” she said.

  Then she launched into her speech.

  “I want to apologize for my behavior and let you know that I voluntarily have resigned from my position. Captain Jaeger and First Mate Johnson have accepted my resignation, with the caveat that I finish my contract for this particular voyage. I am to limit my contact with you and the others, and stay in my cabin when not on duty. My cat is fine; Quint only had some plastic stuck to his fur. He had no injuries,” Sylvia said.

  I looked at her, nonplussed and a bit wary.

  “I want to thank you for watching out for him. I have no excuse for my attacks on you, and if you wish to press charges, I will accept the consequences for my actions. I have also instructed my bank to provide you with a $25,000 retainer for any damages you may have perceived occurred due to my unprovoked assault. Again, I am very sorry for the incident, and will endeavor to serve out my duties to the best of my ability until we dock in Singapore,” she concluded.

  It sounded rehearsed, but Karl had warned me that this would happen if I did run into her.

  He’d wanted to believe her side, but the fact that she had kicked him led him to his decision.

  Karl did not want anyone with such poor impulse control on his ship.

  He’d told Sylvia that he could not, in good conscience, give her a referral, but he would verify that she had served her time on the “Miss T,” with no remarks as to her performance.

  Ordinarily, this would have ended her career, but he was reluctant to take it further.

  He’d ascribed her kick as a purely reflexive and defensive move against a larger opponent, and he didn’t hold that against her.

  He did, however, have very strong opinions about one of his crew attacking a passenger, and that was why he recommended she retain legal counsel upon disembarking.

  He’d suggested that some remuneration, or offer to settle with me might mitigate the damage already done.

  Karl may not have said it, but he was doing Sylvia an immense favor.

  He could have simply slapped her in chains or handcuffs until we made landfall.

  Or, he could have tossed her overboard.

  Probably, no one would have said anything.

  She knew how lucky she was.

  “Thank you for the apology, I will consider my next moves, once we get to Singapore,” I said.

  “I think what happened was not at all in keeping with the professionalism needed for one in your position and station, and I think you really should thank Captain Jaeger and the First Mate for their leniency,” I added.