Through Waters Deep (14 page)

“What?” Kaplan cried. “This is ridiculous.”

The FBI agent cocked his head toward his partner, who stood in the corner.

Agent Hayes slipped handcuffs out of his pocket. “Ira Kaplan, you're under arrest.”

“I can't—I can't believe this is happening.” He held out his arms and didn't resist the handcuffs. “I can't believe it. I can't believe it.”

Mary couldn't either, because the devastation on the man's face proved his innocence.

The FBI agents led Mr. Kaplan out, and the noise in the locker room built again.

“All right, men. Enough.” Mr. Fiske made a patting motion with both hands above the men's heads. “Simmer down.
It's over. The saboteur's finally been caught. Now get back to work, all of you.”

After the men filed out, Mary sank to a bench, light-headed. Yes, Kaplan was guilty of framing Bauer, but he wasn't the saboteur.

The guilty party was still at large.

Saturday, September 27, 1941

With creaking of wood and a giant splash, the new Gleaves-class destroyer
Knight
slid down the ways into Boston Harbor and joined her sister ship, the
Cowie
, launched earlier that day.

Jim and Arch joined the applause, the band played “Anchors Aweigh,” and pennants flapped in the sunshine. All around the nation, Liberty Fleet Day was being celebrated. Shipyards were launching the first fourteen Liberty Ships, mass-produced cargo ships designed to be sturdy, reliable, and quickly constructed. At the Boston Navy Yard, two new destroyers had been launched and two others laid down.

Up ahead, Mary weaved through the crowd in her red dress.

Something constricted in Jim's chest. Everything about today—except the weather—reminded him of the day he and Mary had become reacquainted. Had it really been six months? Back in March, he'd barely noticed her, and now he couldn't take his eyes off her. Back in March, he'd thought starting a romance before shipping out would be stupid, and
now his greatest regret was not starting the romance before he shipped out this evening.

More than anything, he wanted to kiss her good-bye at the docks. But not their first kiss. Not in front of everyone. Because he'd tried to be suave instead of bold, he'd have to wait until after they returned. He'd still acted the fool, only a different kind of fool.

“There's Mary,” Arch said.

“Mm-hmm.” Jim hadn't told Arch about his changing feelings for Mary. Why should his best friend know before the lady?

Mary caught his eye over the crowd and waved. How good to see her smile again. The previous Sunday, she'd been dismayed by the arrest at the shipyard.

If only he could have comforted her alone. If only he'd had
any
time alone with her this month, but Arch had accompanied them to church and on Sunday afternoon excursions.

“You're here.” Mary's face lit up. “I thought I'd lost the two of you to Bertha and Edith.”

“Never.” Jim tried to make his voice sound deep and meaningful, but it didn't sound the way he intended. He could never be an actor.

“Done with your responsibilities for the day?” Arch asked her.

“I am.” Mary clasped her hands under her chin. “Oh! Have you seen the Fletchers we laid down this morning?”

“Not yet,” Jim said. “Waiting for you.”

“Listen.” Arch set his hand on Jim's shoulder. “I've had enough festivities for one day. You two go have fun. I'll make sure everything's squared away on board.”

“All right.” Jim put on a stiff smile. Finally he had time alone with Mary, but in a crowd. Fat lot of good that did.

“Good-bye, Mary.” Arch shook her hand, then tapped
his wristwatch. “Get him back by seventeen hundred or he turns into a pumpkin.”

“Seventeen hundred?”

Jim leaned down to speak into her ear. “We're shipping out.”

“Oh.”

Her clean scent scrambled his brain, but he straightened up to see her reaction.

Sadness turned down the corners of her eyes, but she smiled. “They need you out there. So many ships being sunk. It's tragic.”

She cared, but she'd never hold him back.

Jim could have kissed her right there, crowd or no crowd. But a public kiss? For a woman who hated attention more than anything else in the world? Might as well slap her.

He swallowed the impulse. “They do need us.”

“You'll do great, I know it.” She tilted her head. “But may you and your guns be completely bored.”

Time for a joke. “Our guns are always bored.”

“Oh, brother.” Arch bowed to Mary. “I apologize for my friend's bad pun. The bore of a gun . . .”

“I understand.” Mary's twinkling eyes said she didn't mind puns. “So, Mr. Avery. You have four more hours on land. How would you like to spend them?”

With her. Every minute. “I want a hot dog, I want to see those Fletchers, and I'd like you to see me off.”

“I'd be honored.”

“Au revoir.”
Arch lifted one hand in farewell. “Seventeen hundred.”

Jim offered Mary his arm and threaded his way through the crowd. Sailors and shipyard workers mingled on the wharves for the festivities.

Jim followed his nose to a food stand and bought two hot dogs and two Cokes. He took a big bite and savored the
perfect blend of sausage and mustard. The Navy fed them well, but nothing beat a hot dog eaten outdoors.

Mary led him toward the dry dock where the keels for two new Fletcher-class destroyers had been laid down. As much as he wanted to talk about ships, he wanted to hear about Mary more.

Jim swallowed the last of his hot dog and wiped mustard from his lips. “How have things been around here since the arrest?”

“Much quieter. More peaceful.” But she frowned.

“A big uproar in the papers.”

“For a day or two, but now they're more interested in the World Series coming up. Some people aren't happy about that. They expected national outrage, and there isn't any.”

Jim shrugged. “No national outrage when the
Robin Moor
was sunk, or the
Steel Seafarer
, or when a U-boat fired on the
Greer
. I don't know what it takes.”

Mary sipped her Coke. “The uproar over Mr. Kaplan was muted to begin with. The FBI is being circumspect. I hope it's because they doubt his guilt. I pray so, because he isn't the saboteur, and I feel awful that my notes helped put him behind bars.”

He stopped so she'd have to face him. “Why do you say that?”

“The things he said, that I recorded, they sound so incriminating.”

“But you don't think he did it.”

“I know he didn't. Oh, Jim, you should have seen his face. Yes, he tried to frame Mr. Bauer, which was horribly wrong. But he was motivated by a vigilante sense of justice. He was convinced Bauer was the saboteur and needed to be arrested. Once he realized Bauer was innocent, he instantly regretted his actions. You could see it.”

Jim squinted at her. “Which means Kaplan isn't guilty, and our saboteur is still out there.”

“Yes.” Mary's shoulders slumped. “But not one clue since Kaplan was arrested.”

“Looks like you have some detective work to do while I'm gone, eh?” He offered her a smile and his elbow. “Now, show me those Fletchers.”

At Dry Dock 2, they gazed down at the two bare hulls side by side on their wooden scaffolds.

“The
Guest
and the
Hutchins
,” Mary said. “I can see why you sailor boys are so eager to sail in them.”

He laughed at her sarcastic tone. “Just you wait. Our Gleaves-class destroyer is only 1630 tons, but the Fletchers will be 2100 tons and 28 feet longer. They can carry more guns and torpedo tubes, and are more rugged. Sleek design too.”

“Interesting.”

Was it? Was it interesting to a young woman? “I'm boring you, right?”

“Never.” A lock of hair covered her mouth, but not the amusement in her eyes. “Remember, this is my business too.”

A surge of emotion rose inside, and he lifted his hand to brush away her hair, to linger.

But she beat him to it and shook her hair off her face.

He used his raised hand to scratch the back of his neck. Either a drooling fool or a frozen one. He'd chosen his path—why couldn't he follow it?

Mary stayed close to Jim's side. Two hundred men and officers of the USS
Atwood
crowded the wharf, all in gleaming white uniforms, along with wives and sweethearts and children. What an honor to be invited to see Jim ship out.

All around, women cried into shoulders or put on brave stoic faces. She understood their fears. The sea itself was
dangerous, especially the frigid storm-tossed waters of the North Atlantic where everyone knew—but no one could say—the
Atwood
would be sailing.

In those same seas, U-boats sank dozens of ships each month. Only a matter of time until an American warship was sunk, until they went to war.

But the Bible said, “There is no fear in love; but perfect love casteth out fear,” and Mary would rest in that. If she loved Jim—and she was pretty sure she did—then fear had no place. Her fear would only burden him and paralyze her. The Lord loved Jim and would keep him safe, even if safety lay in heaven rather than on earth.

Jim faced her, breathtakingly close in the press of the crowd. “I'll miss you.”

She wanted to drink in the warm expression on his face, to etch it into her memory. “I'll miss you too.”

“It's good to know you'll be here when I get back.”

“
When
is a nice word.” Her voice came out too whispery, whittled away by the intensity of his gaze. Perhaps when he came back, things really would change. If only she could communicate her wish to him without sounding forward or desperate.

Someone jostled Jim and clapped him on the back. Jim smiled at the man. “Hi, Mo.”

“Hiya, Jim.” The officer led a petite dark-haired woman by the hand toward the gangplank.

Jim gestured with his thumb. “Maurice Shapiro, communications officer. That man over there with the four little girls—that's the captain.”

“Lieutenant Commander Durant,” she said.

The man embraced a lady who held a little girl on her hip and a cheerful smile on her face. They kissed, and the captain patted the other girls on their heads and climbed the gangplank.

His wife held up the pudgy hand of the tiniest daughter. “Say good-bye to Daddy, girls. He's off on a grand adventure.”

What a tender scene, and what a brave wife and mother.

“Well, I'll be.” Jim nudged Mary and nodded toward a red-haired officer, who was engaged in a passionate kiss with a pretty blonde. “I'd heard rumors Reinhardt was married, but somehow I never believed them. Glad I was wrong.”

Lieutenant Reinhardt boarded the destroyer, and other officers after him, each kissing someone good-bye. Only Arch and Jim didn't have sweethearts to kiss good-bye. This had to be painful for Arch.

Arch strode to the foot of the gangplank, faced the crowd, and pressed his hand over his heart. “Alas, I have no one to kiss good-bye. Any patriotic volunteers?”

From the edge of the crowd, a feminine shriek rang out, and a young lady pushed her way forward, one of the other secretaries at the Navy Yard. “Me! Me! I'll volunteer!”

“Oh my goodness,” Mary said.

Jim gave her a stunned smile. “Guess he's over Gloria. Or pretending he is.”

The brunette dashed to Arch. He pulled her into an embrace, dipped her low, and planted a quick kiss on her lips.

The crowd erupted in laughter and applause, and Mary and Jim joined in. The patriotic volunteer sashayed away, fanning herself, while Arch swept a bow and climbed the gangplank.

Near the top, Arch wheeled around and leaned forward, bracing himself on the guide ropes. “Your turn, Mr. Avery! Kiss her!”

Mary gasped and shrank back. Oh goodness, no. Already dozens of heads turned to her.

Jim stood stock-still, his hands fisted, gaze cemented on his best friend.

“Yeah, Mr. Avery, kiss her!” another officer shouted from up on the deck.

“Kiss her! Kiss her!”

Mary sucked in a breath, willing away the nausea.

Everyone stared at her, smiling, laughing, chanting, “Kiss her!”

Jim spun to her, eyes wide. “Mary, I—I'm sorry. I'm sorry.”

Her stomach squirmed, not only from the attention, but because Jim didn't even want to kiss her. “It—it's all right.”

Jim swatted at the chanting men on the ship. “Knock it off, fellows. Leave her alone.”

“What's the matter, Mr. Avery? Chicken?”

“Yeah, if you don't want to kiss her, I will.”

Mary's face tingled. They'd keep chanting until he kissed her or left her. In an instant, her concern flipped from herself to him. If he didn't kiss her, the crew would tease him the entire cruise. How could she allow that to happen to him?

Mary tugged his sleeve. “Would it be so bad?”

“Huh?” Jim turned to her again, his face red.

“Would it be so bad? One kiss? Just a friendly kiss.” How could she say such a thing? But how else could she end the attention? How else could she protect Jim from teasing?

Jim stared down at her, his eyebrows twisted. “A . . . friendly kiss?”

Oh, for heaven's sake, the man would never act. Only she could end the shouting, the laughter, the tension.

“Kiss her! Kiss her!”

Mary threw her arms around his neck, drew his head down, and kissed him full on the lips.

He stiffened, but then his arms circled her waist and gathered her close.

Was he? Yes, he was kissing her back.

Around her, the chants melted away and disappeared in a blue haze. All she sensed, all she cared about, was the
gentleness, the firmness of his kiss, his embrace, the way every bone in her body turned to jelly and only the strength of his arms held her up.