The Pandora Box by Lilly Maytree

grid for a while.”
    “Well believe me, it’s going to take a lot more than the four of us getting along before I give up the whereabouts of fifty million dollars. Just because I’m ignorant of sailing things doesn’t mean I’m naive in others. And let me tell you something, Mr. Wayne Hawkins. By the time this is all over, I’m going to be a darn good sailor, too.”
    “What do you want, then?”
    Dee could sense his frustration and decided to press. “When we get to Frisco, you add my name to the documentation papers, so everything’s fifty-fifty.”
    The suggestion touched an obvious nerve. “Why would you insist on that when you don’t really want her?”
    “Because you do.”
    He muttered under his breath, obviously disturbed that she had put her finger on the thing that mattered most to him. He smoothed down his mustache. “How about a promissory note for what she’s worth?”
    “Not good enough. If you can’t trust me to sell my half back to you when all this is over, then don’t expect me to trust you not to double-cross us somewhere along the way.”
    “And the journal?”
    “I show you the journal when—and only when—I feel sure you aren’t conning or sweet talking or otherwise tricking it away from me. That will take equal trust from both of us, Hawkins.” Their gazes locked and held. “Deal?”
    “Deal,” he finally relented. “As long as you promise to turn over the whole thing and not share it out in bits and pieces. I don’t like to be teased, Dee.”
    “Neither do I.”
    “Or used or made a fool of.”
    “Then that makes two of us. Which is why I resent the way you treated us last night.”
    “It seemed like a good way to find out who you were.”
    “So next time, ask for a resume. I’m D. J. Parker. I work for the Columbia Herald . I—”
    “D. J. Parker?” He looked at her and the realization dawned. “Well, no wonder the word’s out on this thing. D.J. Parker! You’ve probably got people tailing you already, no matter what we actually know about anything.”
    “The Pandora thing had nothing to do with the paper,” she explained. “It was strictly personal. Between Peterson and me.”
    “Strictly personal, huh?” His eyes shown with amusement.
    “Not that kind of personal. The man was eighty-seven years old, and they had him in a psychiatric hospital under false pretenses. He needed help, and I helped him.”
    “Was that before or after he gave you the diamonds?”
    “I had no idea he was going to do that until he actually died. He was just a cooperative information source while I investigated Wyngate. That’s a state hospital just outside of Portland, in case you didn’t know.”
    “No, I didn’t know.”
    She lowered her gaze to the coffee cup she had tucked between the cushion and the rail. “He needed someone to get him out of there. He was being blackmailed.”
    “For fifty million, I’m not surprised.”
    “Well, I didn’t believe the whole diamond story, then. It was just too fantastic. My goal was to get him out and expose the hospital corruption. He wanted to come back to this boat, but I had my doubts there even was a boat. I just wanted the story.” She sighed and looked towards the water. “Maybe help out an unhappy old man along the way.”
    “But here you are,” Hawk pronounced. “Caught up in Pandora’s curse whether you believed in it or not. It is what it is. Here we all are. Tearing across the ocean in one mad, long race to see who gets there first.”
    “Somebody could beat us, you know,” she warned. “While we’re taking a whole month to get across this ocean, whoever stole the chart might decide to fly.”
    Like Scott Evans, who didn’t like boats.
    She could just see the headline: Oregon Reporter Recovers Legendary Jewels , and it would not be D.J. Parker.
    “Sailboat’s the only way to get in there without official permission.” Hawkins broke into her rampant thoughts. “You’ll get boarded for customs when they