CHAPTER SEVEN:

As the memorial wrapped up, the priest encouraged passengers to select a flower and throw it into the sea, with a passenger in mind. Nancy did as he said, selecting a single white rose. As she launched it into the air, she thought of the little children in the third class. She'd seen the pictures of shoes and toys resting on the ocean floor, and those had stuck with her.

"Who was yours for?" Frank asked as he tossed a carnation from the bow.

She explained. "It was for all of them, really. But Eino Panula was only a year old. I think of him the most. He was far too young. His whole family died. It's so sad. But, babies…"

He looked thoughtful. "I didn't take you for the maternal kind."

"Maybe one day." She shrugged. "But they should have grown like old." A smile crossed her lips and she nudged him. "Anyway, I showed you my soft side. Whose was yours for?"

"Whoa. Mine seems trivial compared to yours. I just feel for the captain, you know. He was about to retire. He'd had such a good run. And Thomas Andrews, as well. He seemed to really care about his job. They both did the honorable thing."

"Honor. It doesn't mean much when the lifeboats weren't even filled."

Frank was surprised to see the flicker of anger in Nancy's eyes. But then again, it shouldn't get him off-guard. After all, she could take care of herself. She'd never be able to live with herself if someone offered to sacrifice themselves for her in an act of misplaced chivalry.

"Don't worry, I'll push you out of the way so I can get a seat in a lifeboat first," he teased.

"And I'll push you right back!" She gave him a playful shove.

He caught her arm and they froze, as his fingers gently gripped her bicep. He had her close to him, her face inches away. If they'd been any other people, he would have reached out and moved the strand of hair from her eyes. Then, he would have done as he had in his dream. But they weren't other people. They were Frank Hardy and Nancy Drew. And they'd given their commitment to other people. He knew Nancy adored Ned, despite their differences. And Frank loved Callie. Most of the time. But he was getting exhausted by the whole relationship. It was tiring being devoted to someone who didn't want or appreciate him.

"We're going inside for a nightcap," Joe said loudly, as he sloped up to the pair. "Are you guys coming?"

"Um…" Frank shuddered. He felt like someone else was at the wheel. Where was his control? His restraint? His thoughts and actions were getting away from him these days. He had to get it together! "I could go for a whisky sour. Nancy?"

"Order for me? I'll be in soon."

"Sure. A g&t?"

"You're the best."

As Frank hurried off with the rest of their friends, Nancy lingered at the bow. She curved her hands around the railing and closed her eyes, tilting her head back. She thought about Ned and what he was doing at home. Should she send him a text? It might make her feel less guilty about all the time she'd been spending with Frank Hardy, knowing her boyfriend was probably busy with friends and work. If she messaged first, she'd feel like less of a traitor.

She'd message him. In a minute. She wasn't ready to break the peaceful spell just yet.

She could see the captain talking to a couple of crew members who were putting things away. Passengers were all crowding towards the doors, either in the direction of bed or a warm beverage. She'd join them soon, but she was enjoying the solitude.

Suddenly, the boat bucked beneath her. She noticed the rough movement because the ship had been moving slowly but steadily, throughout the ceremony. They'd left the wreck of Titanic behind some time ago. But they were still on the open ocean.

Nancy motioned to the captain. John Taylor-Smith made his way toward her.

"Did you feel that?" she asked.

He nodded, looking puzzled. "I'm sure it was just a wave." Despite his reassuring tone, Nancy could detect concern on his face. After all, the sea was still. And there weren't any other boats nearby that could have caused the wake.

"If you'll excuse me, I'll just go up to the bridge and see what's going on." He tipped his cap and rushed off toward the stairs.

Nancy leaned over the railing to get a better look at the water. But she couldn't see anything in the impenetrable darkness. She was just about to go inside and join her friends when she heard it: a sickening creaking sound, deep below.

"What was that?" a crew member cried out.

Nancy knew something was very wrong. She immediately began searching for her friends. They'd made it to one of the bars, and Joe was tapping impatiently on the bar as he waited for their drink order. The rest of the group had found a table at the back of the room.

"What's going on?" Frank called out over the sound of rich band music.

"We've hit something," Nancy said grimly. "I'm sure of it."

"Out here? Impossible!" George's face was pale. "We're in the middle of the bloody ocean."

"George is right… right?"

"Shush, Bess. Nancy must be mistaken."

"Joe, you were just saying Nancy is never wrong." Frank stood and went to Nancy's side. "What happened, Nance? Why are you saying we've hit something?"

She explained what had happened out on the bow. And she could see the mood in the group change. It seemed incomprehensible that just moments after the Titanic memorial their ship had collided with something in the dark.

"We have to tell someone," Bess said, voice coming out as a whimper.

"The captain just went up to the bridge. I expect he'll make an announcement any moment," Nancy told her. "We just have to wait to and see. Does anyone have anything important in their cabins?"

The rest of the group shook their heads. Things like electronics and books seemed unnecessary when lives might be in danger.

Joe clenched his fists at his sides and let out his breath in a huff of frustration. "God, I want to let people know they might be in danger," he exploded. "They're all just sitting and drinking, having a good time. But if we say anything, they'll panic."

"We can't tell them. They'll panic and-" Frank broke off, blinking in surprise. "Oh. You got it, Joe. Yeah. That's right. We just have to wait and assist the crew when we know what's going on. It's not easy. But our hands are tied."

Joe looked insulted. "I'm not just a pretty face."

George pushed her drink away, suddenly not interested in getting drunk. "I'll find Louise."

"And I'll find Desmarais," Nancy said. "We'll meet back here as soon as possible?"

"Yeah. I don't want to lose anyone," Bess said fiercely. "We go through this together."

Joe cracked his knuckles. "I'll go with Nan. Frank?"

"I'll come with you both. Bess, maybe you should stick with George."

The three sleuths bid Bess and George goodbye and hurried up to the bridge. They followed a variety of signs past families bustling toward their beds. Joe felt his rage and despair bubbling over. He wanted to grab each and every one of them and shake them. But he knew that wouldn't help. He had to put his emotions to the side. After all, none of them were aware of their potential predicament. He'd meant what he'd said. He could hold it in.

Frank touched his arm. "You're doing the right thing."

Joe shot his brother a grateful smile. Good old Frank, reading his mind as usual.

"Here we are." Nancy knocked once on the door and it was opened by a crew member.

"I'm sorry, ma'am, no passengers-"

"It's alright." Desmarais waved them in. "So, you caught wind of the trouble?"

"Something like that. What is the trouble?" Joe demanded.

Desmarais motioned to one of the large screens. In front of it, Captain John Taylor-Smith was on the phone, but he gave Nancy a nod of recognition as she moved closer. She could see what looked like a sonar image of the seabed. Her heart began to race as she discerned a jagged, darker outline beneath the bow.

"It seems like the autopilot malfunctioned," Desmarais said grimly. "As we were doing the memorial service the ship drifted toward St. Johns. We've gone over a small rock outcrop and it has punctured the bow."

Frank couldn't believe his ears. It was like Titanic all over again! Was the Duchesse going to sink?