Chapter 20
The next few weeks passed with less trouble than Harm expected. After that first, disastrous outing, the others somehow seemed mundane. As did the women. What he'd feared might really be a long, hard struggle with temptation had turned out to be… very little. Certainly the girls were attractive, but that was hardly enough to divert his attention from Mac. Not when she was everything he'd ever wanted.
The cruise wasn't an entirely pleasant situation, but it was manageable.
Truth be told, managing Mac was far harder (though infinitely more rewarding) than dealing with all the rest of the women on the ship put together, including Nikki Upton who was beginning to make Singer seem like a pleasant person.
Harm had come to recognize the constant tug-o-war taking place inside his wife-- trust in him versus a numbing terror that he would betray and abandon her, just like her parents had. On the one hand, he understood that her fear wasn't a reflection of him, or even their marriage-- that it was a byproduct of the home she'd grown up in. But on the other hand, it hurt. Every time suspicion and fear flared in her eyes, he felt like he'd taken a gut shot. Why won't you trust me? was always the first thing that wanted to leap off his tongue, and the one he worked hardest to keep hold of. It wasn't about trust. No that was wrong, he corrected himself. It was about trust. It just wasn't about him.
Sighing softly, Harm opened his eyes. He wasn't going to get any more sleep this morning. He turned his head. Mac lay facing away from him, curled up in a ball with the covers tucked up to her chin, as always. The steady rise and fall of her breath confirmed she was still sleeping.
Rolling onto his side, he reached out beneath the covers to brush the backs of his knuckles along her spine, relishing the simple act of touching her. The warmth of her skin comforted him in a way nothing else could. For a moment he let his eyes close, wondering if he might be able to go back to sleep after all.
After a few minutes, he reopened his eyes. Not today. Moving carefully so as not to wake Mac, he slipped out of bed and padded to the bathroom. A tiny smile lit his features. Not the head, the bathroom. He was getting into the habit of using the "proper" word. For a moment he wondered what would happen if he ever made the opposite mistake while onboard a Navy ship. Probably bust me back to lieutenant, he thought with a grin.
Once inside, he secured the door and spent a few minutes brushing his teeth and splashing water on his face. When he felt reasonable coherent, he turned on the shower, leaving the water set on cold. Then he fished under the sink for the black case containing the satellite phone. He and Mac had accumulated a number of questions over the past couple of weeks-- questions they couldn't answer without reviewing the evidence. There was some risk in using the phone, but they'd searched the confines of the little room several times without finding any sign of bugs, so he was willing to take the chance.
"Good morning, Bud," he said when the lieutenant answered his phone at JAG.
There was a short pause. Harm imagined his friend's eyes widening the way they did when he was startled.
"Good morning, sir. It's good to hear from you." The warmth of the greeting gave way to cautious alarm. "Is everything all right, sir?"
"Everything's fine, Bud." Harm rubbed his eyes, trying to extinguish the last of his grogginess. "I need some information, though."
"Name it, sir."
"I need you to go through the testimony from the two Naval reservists and compare it with Mrs. Antony's statements about the notes she sent them. I want to know when, how many, what each one said, and if there are any discrepancies in their accounts."
Harm could hear the scratch of Bud's pencil in the background. "Yes, sir."
"Also, how is the sorting job going with the tape from the first show?" Before he and Mac left, they'd tasked a couple of ensigns with the unenviable job of going through every single recording made during the first cruise to look for missing segments. Failures did happen, but a blank spot might also be an indication that someone-- namely Ariel-- was doing something he didn't want recorded.
"It's going, sir. It'll probably be at least a week before they're done, though."
Harm kept his sigh to himself. They had the time to spend, but if he and Mac could wrap up the case before the end of the cruise, he would be more than happy to do so. "O.k. I'll check back on that one."
"Anything else, sir?" Bud asked.
"Yeah. I want you to have the rape recording analyzed."
"We've already had it checked for tampering, sir. It's not a fake."
"No, I didn't think it would be, Bud. What I want to know is why the recording quality was so poor. According to all the involved parties, the incident took place in one of the ship's cabins, so the recording should have been as good as anything else used on the show. I'm assuming what you're seeing on t.v. twice a week is a lot higher quality than that footage, right?"
Bud cleared his throat. "Uh, yes, sir."
"Then I want to know why."
"Got it, sir." There was a pause in which Bud was obviously gathering himself to say something forward. "…sir?"
"Yes?" Harm tried to keep the amusement out of his voice. He could all too easily guess what it would be.
"I just want you to know that… we're all rooting for you and the colonel, sir."
Harm grinned, deliberately misunderstanding. "To solve this case? Why, thanks, Bud."
"No no no, sir. I mean… in the competition. The show." Harm was fairly certain the lieutenant was blushing furiously and fought to keep from laughing.
"Ah. Is anyone giving us odds?"
"Lieutenant Singer is running a pool, if that's what you're asking… but, don't ask. You don't want to know what odds she's giving you." A smug note crept into his voice. "Some of us are going to make a lot of money at the end of this thing."
At that, Harm did laugh, though he kept it quiet for fear that the cabin recording system would pick it up. "Bud, I like your style."
"Thank you, sir."
"Is there anything else I need to know?"
"I don't think so."
"How's Sergei doing?"
"Fine, as far as I know, sir."
Harm nodded and ran a hand through his sleep-rumpled hair. "O.k. I'll check back with you in a couple of days."
"Sounds good, sir."
Harm disconnected the call and replaced the phone in its case. He doubted they would find sufficient evidence from the first show to implicate Ariel, if he was indeed guilty. Most likely, it would all come down to his and Mac's ability to set themselves up as candidates for a repeat offense… and that was someplace Harm really did not want to go.
#
"Did you hear?" Carmen asked brightly as Mac and Harm walked up to the table where she, Boothe, and the Washingtons sat together over lunch. Mac watched her warily. There was something… off about her behavior. Something sharp and brittle in her gaze that Mac didn't like at all.
"Did we hear what?" Mac asked while Harm pulled out her chair for her. It was, by now, a familiar courtesy, but eyebrows still went up around the table.
"The Sorensens are out, as of this morning."
"And then there were five," Harm commented quietly as he took the chair beside Mac. With the Sorensons gone, the only couples remaining were the three seated around the table, Jeb and Stacy, and the Moleneuxs, a couple from New Orleans.
Mac picked up her menu, her appetite dimmed. Beneath the table, Harm laid a hand on her thigh and gave her an encouraging squeeze.
"Aren't you going to ask what happened?" Carmen said after a moment.
Mac sipped her water, meeting the other woman's gaze over the rim. "I don't particularly want to know the details."
Delia chuckled. "Good for you, Mac. I don't have that much willpower when it comes to gossip."
Carmen's gaze roamed the table, looking for a more receptive audience. Harm and John were chatting good-naturedly about the hazards of a red meat diet, something Harm believed and John just liked to razz him about. Delia and Boothe had apparently already heard the story, but Mac didn't think that would stop Carmen.
It didn't. "Apparently, Mrs. Sorenson decided she'd had enough of her husband treatin' her like dirt… so she went to the bar, got up on one of the tables, took off all her clothes, and then asked who wanted to take her home."
The table went quiet at Carmen's abrupt statement, or, more likely, the vicious tone with which she'd said it. Mac's nerves began to scream as long buried warning signals came to life in her mind. She fought to keep her expression mild. Beneath the table, she caught Harm's hand in hers, squeezing it tightly. His instincts were good. If something were really wrong he would notice, too. But when she risked a glance at him, all she saw in his eyes was puzzlement and concern.
John broke the silence with a long sigh. "I wonder if it's worth it." He waved a hand. "All this."
"Worth a million dollars?" Harm asked.
John shrugged and looked tenderly at his wife. "Worth anything."
Delia smiled back, a surprisingly shy expression from the brash, outspoken woman.
"Are you guys thinking of withdrawing?" Mac asked. For some reason her heart was fluttering in her chest. With hope for them? For herself?
John's answer was another shrug, but Delia nodded. "Thinking about it," she confirmed.
Harm solemnly offered his hand, and John shook it. "Well, we wish you the best, whatever you decide to do," Harm said, and Mac could hear the sincerity behind his words.
John smiled. "Thanks."
#
"Lieutenant Roberts is here to see you, sir." Tiner's voice sounded tinny on the desk speaker in the Admiral's office.
"Send him in," A.J. replied. He didn't look up from the newspaper that lay on the desk before him as the door opened, then closed with a soft thunk. He heard Bud's footsteps approach, coming to a precise halt in front of the desk.
"At ease." A.J. looked up into Lieutenant Robert's round face. Salt of the earth, he thought as he always did when he saw Bud. If God had made a more humble man than Bud Roberts, A.J. had yet to meet him. And with the growing confidence that age and experience were bringing, the Admiral suspected the lieutenant would mature into a very fine officer indeed.
A.J. sat back with a frown. "Have you seen the paper this morning, lieutenant?"
Bud shook his head. "No, sir."
A.J. picked up the section he'd been reading and handed it to Bud. "It appears Rabb and MacKen--" He paused, struck by the humor in his own slip. "Rabb and Rabb?" He shook his head at that one. Happy as he was for them, it really did complicate things. "The commander and the colonel's identities have finally been discovered by the media."
Bud glanced at the paper in his hands, taking in the gist of the entertainment page's top story in a matter of seconds. "It certainly took them long enough," he said. A.J. had to smile at the assessment.
"Have you talked to Mr. Webb about this yet, sir?" Bud asked.
"Actually, I'm going to let you do that, lieutenant."
Bud nodded, not looking terribly pleased. "Yes, sir." He folded the paper and tucked it under his arm. "I spoke to Commander Rabb today, sir."
Startled, A.J. stared at him. "I trust nothing has gone wrong?"
Bud shook his head. "No, sir. At least, not that I know of. He had some questions and I'm working on finding the answers."
A.J. frowned, then nodded in dismissal. "Very well. Keep me apprised."
Bud came to attention. "Yes, sir."
He watched the lieutenant leave, then turned to his television. He found a midday entertainment show and let it play in the background as he worked. Considering the phone calls he'd been fielding, he would eventually hear something. He wasn't disappointed.
"We have with us today Daniel Steiner, executive producer of the hit reality show, Temptation Cruise II."
A.J. turned. A vaguely familiar, stylishly blond woman looked out from the television screen. The camera panned to Steiner, seated beside her. A.J. noted with a touch of asperity that he was dressed in a suit. But then, Steiner no doubt attached far more importance to appearing on t.v. than to visiting the Judge Advocate General of the Navy. The two exchanged pleasantries and other meaningless chitchat for a while, but eventually the woman asked the question the Admiral had been waiting for.
"Mr. Steiner, can you tell us why two of the contestants on your show are really military officers from the Judge Advocate General's office?"
Steiner's expression remained politely neutral. "They are conducting an undercover investigation with the full cooperation of the production studio as well as the FBI."
The woman's eyebrows rose in feigned surprise. "Is this related to the rape allegations made against two employees of the original Temptation Cruise?"
Steiner nodded solemnly. "Yes, though I really can't say more about that because of legal considerations."
A.J. nodded in grudging approval. Whatever else Steiner might be, he did know how to handle himself in front of a camera.
The woman shifted in her seat. "All right, then. What can you tell us about the two officers?"
Steiner smiled, warming to his topic. "Harmon Rabb is a commander in the Navy. Sarah Rabb is a lieutenant colonel in the Marine Corps."
"They're really married?"
"Yes."
The woman flashed him a smile. "Now, the Judge Advocate General, that's the military's legal division, correct?" Steiner nodded, and she continued. "So the Rabbs are lawyers?"
"Very good ones, I'm told." Steiner leaned back in his chair, radiating casual ease.
The interviewer paused for a moment, either to check her teleprompter or to gather her thoughts. "We here on the Morning Show did a little background checking on the Rabbs earlier today, and were surprised to learn that both have combat experience. Apparently Colonel Rabb served a tour of duty in Bosnia during the crisis there, and Commander Rabb was… and still is… an F-14 pilot."
Steiner nodded. "Yes."
The woman leaned forward. "How is this information going to affect both the ongoing criminal investigation and your show?"
"It's not." Steiner's casual posture didn't change. "The Radiant Heart and its compliment are totally isolated from the rest of the world. No one there will have any idea the Rabbs are anything but what they seem."
The interviewer's eyebrows rose fractionally as she turned to the camera. "Well, I think it's safe to say we will all be watching the remaining episodes of Temptation Cruise II with great interest to see what happens."
A.J. picked up the remote and switched the television off. He could only hope Webb had the situation under control.
