Jack Beale 00 - Killer Run

about to walk away when she turned back. Her hand, as if guided by some unseen force, pushed the door open and she went in.
With her heart pounding, she crossed to the table. It was covered with charts and other papers with strange numbers and markings. She stopped in front of the table, scarcely daring to breathe. Then, tentatively at first, she lifted the corner of a large chart, cautiously peering underneath as if fearful that a serpent lurked underneath. Yet there was no serpent, only more charts and papers. Emboldened and forgetting time, she pawed through the pile. Then, at the very bottom, she saw what she was sure was the letter that Whitbey had handed to the Captain. She slid it out from under the pile and began to read.
“No!” Her thoughts screamed in disbelief as she read the letter. Fighting to keep her hands from shaking she began to read it again. Suddenly she realized that the voices above her had ceased. Hurriedly she pushed the letter back under the pile of charts and fled his cabin. She reached her own just as his first steps landed on the stairs. Her heart was pounding and she was gasping for breath when she fell into her bed and pulled the quilt over her head, as if hiding under it would provide sanctuary and keep her safe.

CHAPTER 22
She closed her eyes, but sleep would not come. The guilt of knowing what she had done and the fear of discovery made sleep impossible. Every creak, every moan of the ship as it sailed through the night, now sent a shiver of fear through her body as she expected that each sound was a precursor to the discovery of what she had done. With each passing hour their journey was that much closer to completion. She thought about the Captain and what he might do if he found out. She had already witnessed his temper, and as she lay there, Christine was convinced that if he found out, she might very well end up overboard with no one the wiser. Whatever tale he offered about her disappearance would be believed because of his stature and standing. No one on board would speak on her behalf, if for no other reason than fear.
No, she had to come up with some way to ensure that if she didn’t make it to Newport alive, what she knew would be told. As she huddled under her quilt, an idea began to form in her head. At first it seemed impossible, only a wild fantasy, too risky to even attempt. But, as the night wore on, the idea never left her thoughts. Even when she dozed off, it continued in her dreams. By dawn, she had decided that it could work and she began to set her idea in motion.
First, and most important, she must not allow the Captain to have any suspicions. Things would have to be as they had been throughout the journey, and her first action would be to apologize to him for her impertinence at dinner last evening. Prior to that dinner, they had had little contact other than brief encounters on deck, and that is how it needed to continue. With this settled in her head, her eyes closed, and it wasn’t until well past sunrise that she awoke to the sound of knocking on her door. As she untangled herself from the covers a voice came through the door.
“Miss, Miss.” She recognized that it was the cook’s voice.
“Yes,” she replied through the closed door.
“Miss. It is late and you weren’t up at first light. I began to worry. I brought you some breakfast. You need to eat.”
“Thank you. Just leave it by the door. I’m not yet dressed and I’ll get it as soon as I am able.”
He did not reply, but she did hear him place the tray on the floor and shuffle away.
As soon as the footsteps were gone, she cautiously pulled the door open a crack, peered out, and saw only the tray of food that had been left. As she ate, her thoughts returned to her plan. It still seemed possible.
When she finally went on deck, the Captain was there. In short order her apologies were accepted and her racing heart began to still. It was some time later in the afternoon that the Captain approached her. He had just returned to the deck and had a look of satisfaction about his person. “Miss Armitage, I have just finished checking my calculations, and if the wind remains fair, we should be in port in time for supper in three days.”
“That is wonderful news. I shall pray for continued fair winds when I retire this evening.”
Nothing else was said. Then he nodded his head and strode away, leaving Christine alone with her thoughts.

CHAPTER 23
    ONLY THE RISING SUN GREETED HIM as he finished