back over here, you distract him, mouth off to him, and I slap ’im with the chloroform cloth.’
‘Maybe something simpler,’ Claudia said. ‘Maybe you putting your gun at the back of his head and making him drop his gun.’
‘What if he don’t surrender? What if he shoots you or me?’
‘He’s not likely to do that with a gun at the base of his skull. And if you’re behind him he can’t shoot you.’
‘He might shoot you,’ Danny said.
‘Then you need to press that gun hard against him so he knows you mean business.’
‘If I shoot one, the other will hear.’
‘You got a fire extinguisher here in the galley?’ she asked. Danny nodded toward the cabinet under the sink. ‘You put the gun on him, get him to freeze, I’ll belt him in the head with the extinguisher. Knock him out.’
‘That means you got to be untied.’
‘Yes.’
Danny chewed his lip. Now that she could see his face clearly, study it, she didn’t like the flat shine in his eyes. Not clever but cagey.
‘You begged me to trust you, you got to trust me,’ Claudia said. ‘I can’t be much help to you tied up.’
‘You punched me,’ he said. ‘You’re the toughest little cookie in the jar. You might try to take the gun from me.’
‘Well, I won’t,’ Claudia said. ‘You can trust me. It’s your call.’
He put his gun down and loosened the ropes from around her hands. She kept her hands very still. ‘If I take the ropes off all the way he’ll notice.’
‘I’ll tuck my hands under the table.’
‘What about your blindfold?’ he asked. ‘He’ll be suspicious if it’s off you.’
‘Leave it off,’ she said. ‘If we lose, he’ll kill me anyway.’
Danny took his Sig and got up from the galley booth.
‘Do you have any other guns?’ Claudia asked.
‘No,’ Danny said. ‘I’m for gun control, actually.’
‘Then give me the gun.’
‘You’ll shoot me,’ Danny said.
Yes, I will, she decided then. But later and in the leg. ‘This is ridiculous. I’m not going to shoot you.’
He still seemed to think, working the inside of his cheek.
She played a cautious card. ‘Yes, you’re just like your hero, Laffite. Heart of a warrior. You can’t make the simplest decision.’
His eyes narrowed. ‘You don’t understand. I’m this close… after what all I’ve lost… I can’t lose the Devil’s Eye. Or the journal. It’s what I’ve lived for, honey.’
His stare and his sad confession made her queasy. ‘You gonna trust me or Gar and the redhead more?’
‘I got a plan. You get down in the stateroom, lay down on the bed like you’re sleeping. He comes down there to check on you, he’s got to go down those narrow stairs. I put the gun behind his ear then, make him drop his.’
‘In a stateroom there’s not much cover,’ she said. ‘You’re nice and safe behind him and I’m not.’
‘It’s just a variant on your original idea.’ He sounded peeved.
‘With all due respect, I don’t think you have the nerve for this.’ She kept her voice calm. ‘I was in the army right out of school. Give me the gun and let me handle him.’
‘I’m not giving you the advantage, Claudia. If I were you I’d shoot me – maybe not kill me, because you seem like a real nice lady – then get on the radio and call for help.’
‘Where’s your radio?’
‘Up on the bridge.’
‘It doesn’t make sense for me to shoot you and then try to call for help. Your buddies might spot me up on the deck and open fire.’
He didn’t say anything, rubbing his thumb along the Sig’s handle.
‘But they won’t think anything of you being up there, Danny. Can you go up there, call the coast guard on Channel 16?’ Sixteen was the regular monitoring channel, on which boats hailed each other in short order before moving their communications to another channel. A lifeline connecting all sorts of boats on the water, Channel 16 was monitored by the coast guard. ‘Call a Mayday, tell them it’s a kidnapping situation, request help.’
‘And then I get arrested. No way.’
‘You’re going to get caught anyway. My plan’s the only safe way out for you. I promise.’
Danny stared at her. ‘But Gar’ll have Jupiter’s radio tuned to 16. They’ll hear us. Or they’ll see me using the radio and they’ll go nuts.’
‘Then call on 22A. That’s the coasties’ liaison channel. Go up there, crouch down low, and get us some help.’
He shook his head. ‘If they see me, they’ll kill me.’
‘They’re going to kill you anyway and you’re a moron if you don’t see that.’
He suddenly – but gently – pressed the barrel underneath her chin. ‘Listen. You’re not the boss here.’
‘If you kill me, Stoney won’t give you what you want.’ She felt calmer than she could have imagined with a gun held to her head by a clearly unstable man. But his finger wasn’t on the trigger. He was playing with her and the idea of death, and she stared back at him.
‘Get down to the stateroom.’ Danny pulled her to her feet, gave her a little push. ‘Lay down like you’re sleeping or crying. My plan’ll work.’
She didn’t argue. The stateroom on Miss Catherine was tiny, the bedspread worn, smelling of Cheetos and beer, like a cheap motel room. On a side table was a stack of books. All about Jean Laffite and early Texas history, little bits of neon-colored paper sticking out from the pages like bright plumage. Clothes lay in an untidy heap on the floor. Danny prodded her with the gun, grazing the back of her head, and she clambered onto the bed, her foot throbbing.
‘At least untie me so I can fight him if I have to,’ she said.
He hesitated.
‘So am I help or just bait?’ she snapped.
‘I’m deciding,’ he said.
‘I thought you were a gentleman. You’re just an asshole.’
‘Shut up.’
‘No,’ she said. ‘I won’t. You want my help, you better start helping me. Untie me. Or you’re going to have to shoot me, because I’m not cooperating with you anymore.’
He made a sigh of exasperation. ‘This is why they didn’t have women on ships of old.’
‘You told me before I picked my friends badly. You picked yours worse. You get to pick again, at least for now.’
‘Danny!’ Gar’s voice rumbled from the deck.
Danny shoved her onto the bed. ‘Pretend. We don’t got time for your plan.’ And he hurried back up the stairs. She heard the galley door smack open, heard Gar demand in a low voice, Where’s she at?, heard Danny answer in a mumble that Claudia was scared, downstairs, he’d let her try to take a nap, keep her out of the way.
She tried to wriggle her hands free from the rest of the rope. The rope gouged her skin. She heard Danny saying, ‘I don’t think so.’
Claudia yanked her right hand free. Screw being bait. She jumped up from the bed, huddled in the closet. Wire hangers jangled above her head, tangled in her hair. She needed a weapon; she clawed the hangers free from her head.
The hanger. Make it into a loop of wire, a garrote, grab him from behind, choke the air out of him.
She grabbed one, twisted it hard, unraveling the spiral of wire at the top. Another twist. Another. Heavy footsteps pounding on the stairs, Danny screaming to wait a goddamned minute. Fists hitting flesh, hard, the unmistakable pop of knuckle against jaw.
Not enough time. She dropped the hanger, looped her hand around the length of rope hanging down from
