The Captain's Lady (19 page)

"Should be here. Told her to be here at 0700, no excuses.” Joe stood up and strode to the door on limber legs. His head disappeared around the corner of the door, then his arm. Soon two people appeared. He held the door for her to pass.

The long dark hair was neatly pinned up. Small and pretty, she was
the girl next door
. The top of her head reached just below Joe's shoulder. Dread filled the china-like face. Her eyes were red rimmed, with gray circles underneath. Visibly shaking, she came to attention and waited for her superiors to acknowledge her presence.

"Petty Officer Jennifer Hampton, sir."

Waving her to an empty chair at the head of the table, Eric remained at the center, watching her every move. Her demeanor was cautious. Her tightly-wound nerves sparked as she warily scanned the room and each of the officers present. “Sit down,” he said sternly. “Petty Officer Hampton, your recent conduct is clearly a dereliction of duty. I want to make it clear to you, charges are being considered against you."

Looking straight ahead, stone-faced, she nodded. “Yes sir, Captain."

"First, I want you to explain yourself. I want to know everything that happened in detail, along with whatever possessed you to flagrantly disobey regulations."

Her eyes darted to Eric's. She licked her lips, her anxiety clear in the way the lump her throat flinched when she swallowed. “Um ... permission to sp-speak...” She cleared her throat. “To speak freely, sir.” Her voice cracked as she spoke.

Feeling somewhat sorry for the girl, he leaned forward, pushing a pitcher and a glass of water across the table. “Go ahead."

Jennifer nodded and poured herself a glassful. She didn't drink any though, just set the glass within easy reach. She clasped her hands together on the table. Her fingers were trembling. Jennifer took a breath. “Two days ago, Gail approached me telling of an incident that happened in sickbay. She told me you had it in for her and since you were friends with her commanding officer, her belief was that her allegations would never see the light of day."

She paused briefly, and met Eric's eyes, her expression reflecting true remorse. “I'm sorry sir, but at the time, um ... well, sir, you've made no secret that you don't like women and have voiced your objection to women in the service. Gail suggested that retaliation by peers was common and you, Lieutenant Saunders, and Commander Reed would most likely block a criminal investigation.” She looked over at Joe with what appeared to be remorse.

As she spoke, she regained some control. “Sir, there have been many reports of abuse in the service. I have met some of these women who suffered harm. Sir, what was worse for them was the retribution from their commanding officers."

Flinching at her words, Eric remained silent.

"Anyway, I just wanted to help her. I thought I was doing the right thing at the time. But I do regret my decision now."

Bud jumped in, the growl in his voice practically rattling the walls. “You damn well should regret that decision; it was a fucking stupid thing to do. If I had my way, you would be bounced right off this ship and out of the navy."

Eric held up his hand to Bud. “Let's all just calm down here.” Looking over, he could not help but notice Joe's calm demeanor. It was a character trait Eric coveted.

Joe stopped making notes on the corner of a manila file folder and looked up. “Did Gail Carruthers at any time indicate to you any of the details of this incident?"

Jennifer's pallor turned even more ashen as she squeezed shut the puffy red eyes. She stuttered, “A-actually.” Her eyes flitting to the captain and then to the silent Joe across from him. She swallowed before continuing, “It was Saturday night in our bunkroom. Gail, well...” She paused with a nervous glance at each of the three men. Her face colored a light pink. “She was really pissed off with you, Sir. She said she wanted to knock you off your high horse."

The three men looked at one another, their eyes widening with curiosity.

"Go on, what else did she say?” Eric harnessed the budding anger with all the control he could muster.

"She said she had a plan to get back at you. I frankly wasn't interested and left right after Mary-Jo, I mean, Petty Officer Johnson."

Joe spoke, leaning forward in his chair. “Petty Officer, just who exactly was there?"

She hesitated.

"I must remind you that you are in serious trouble. I doubt very much you would want filing a false report to be added to the charges you're currently facing. For a young thing like you, you could be looking at confinement and I somehow think you might be smarter than that. As it stands right now, we are prepared to be lenient, depending on how helpful and cooperative you are."

The eyes seemed to grow bigger with the realization that she might be able to alleviate some of the trouble she was in. The eyes narrowed again as she obviously fought the ethics of tattling on her fellow crewmembers. Finally, she relented, detailing for them who was there. But she remained adamant that she had no idea what Gail was planning. Then Jennifer added in her own defense, “At the time, I believed Gail when she came to me for help to get her report filed."

Eric leaned forward, deliberately showing her no compassion. “Did it ever occur to you that the report might be false? I mean, for chrissakes, have I ever acted inappropriately with you or any other female members of the crew?"

Her face colored a deep mottled red as she sheepishly shook her head. “No, Sir, you haven't."

Shaking his head in disgust, he turned to Joe, allowing him to assume control of the meeting. “Petty Officer Jennifer Hampton, what you did may have been done with the best of intentions. Your actions however, showed a total neglect of navy rules and regulations. Gail Carruthers was required to report to her commanding officer; there are procedures to follow when filing a report. I would also like to point out that dozens of servicewomen in the Persian Gulf are saying they were sexually assaulted and they are all investigated. A few have already turned out to be unfounded. Do you have any idea what happens to a man's career, even if charges are unfounded?"

Numb, with tears in her eyes, she shook her head.

"The damage is done the moment the accusation is made and it is damn hard, if not impossible, for a good man to rebuild the dignity and respect he has commanded over the years.” Sucking in a breath Joe expanded his chest, maintaining a steady calm in his voice. “I'm recommending an investigation into your conduct. Until further notice you are relieved of your duties. You'll be confined to your quarters until further notice. Dismissed.” Standing and saluting, Jennifer left, her shoulders slunk forward.

The three men remained seated, assimilating what had just transpired. “Well, well, this is some good news. I'll meet with the three other women and get their statements. Let's hope it's enough to make this go away. One thing we have discovered for sure is that her motives are in question now.” Joe leaned back, his relaxed, calm demeanor showing itself as he assumed easy control of the investigation.

"The JAG investigator will be here tonight. I'll be working with him on the investigation.” Joe's eyes were focused on something on the table in front of Eric.

He let his eyes follow Joe's gaze ... to his hands, clenched into fists on the table before him. He unclasped them and laid them flat on the table, feeling the cool wood on his palms. Once the investigator arrived, the charges would be an in-your-face reminder of the seriousness of the allegation against him. Along with it was the possibility of a suspension of duties. He hadn't needed Joe's counsel about the tainted mark on his career, even if they were able to prove the falseness of the charges against him.

Clearing his throat, Bud pursed his lips as his face softened in sympathy. “Captain, I'm truly sorry for my Petty Officer's actions. Please accept my sincerest apologies. I feel like I dropped the ball."

Eric waved his hand in the air. “Bud, it's not your fault. What's done is done. I just want to see this thing resolved. I have a ship to run. I have no time or inclination for fighting a schoolyard bully who can't fight clean."

Bud stood awkwardly. “You have my full support. Anything I can do to help, please Captain, let me know."

"Thanks, Bud.” His reply was sharp, quick, cutting, relaying that the discussion was over for the time being.

Over but hardly forgotten. What would he do with his life if this ship, this career, were taken away? Abby's face flickered in his mind's eye. No. How could he face her as a failure? She could never respect him. This was all he knew how to do; it was all he wanted to do. What in the private sector would be close to this? His thoughts flashed to Cal Waters of Dark Sea Inc. He had branched out since leaving the military ten years ago, to sea, air, and ground operations, contracted out for their own brand of security, special cargo, and unique transportation. He smiled at the man's brilliance, although some of the international contracts and the way some things were handled were maybe questionable. But they had their own way of doing things that the international leaders had learned not to question. The outcome, well ... let's just say it was generally for the good. He would call if things turned bad and the charges didn't get cleared up. With Cal, he knew there would be no questions, and no mention of his record.

When the door closed, Joe and Eric sat alone in the wardroom. The weight of what faced him began to wear him down. For the first time his shoulders sagged. The pending investigation would probe into his private life, where no one had the right to go. His entire past would be laid bare to everyone—including Abby—because, try as he might to keep it under wraps, these things always came out. The worst part would be if she believed Gail's charges. He'd told her nothing, held all the information inside. Would she think he was holding back because he was guilty? Sure she would. Who wouldn't?

That look of love and trust would quickly turn into hate and disgust. That was enough to make him feel physically ill. Eric sighed aloud, realizing his fists were once again clenched in front of him.

"What is it?” Joe asked.

"Abby. There's no way to keep this from her."

Joe nodded. “Did you get a chance to talk to her yesterday? You know, about her nightmare."

Eric felt his mood softening. “Yeah, I did.” He plucked a paperclip from the folder on the table and turned it over and over. Without looking up, he related what Abby had told him. “I'm a little worried. What she's been through is nothing short of incredible. You know, not just surviving each day, but how she escaped. I'm no shrink, but I think she's handling it pretty damn well. She's definitely one strong young lady."

Eric looked up to see Joe leaning back in the chair, his eyes closed, and let the silence stretch on for a few minutes so Joe could absorb Abby's story. He searched his friend's face for any sign of disbelief.

Finally Joe nodded. “It makes my blood run cold trying to imagine what she's been through."

Eric slammed his fist hard on the solid table, scattering the papers in a discordant mess. “Dammit, I'd love to make her forget what happened, but really, is it possible without facing it? And look at her condition, how much can she take right now?"

"What did Doc say?"

Groaning, Eric stretched up his arms, trying to work out the kinks. “He wants her to have a week of peace and quiet. He feels it's imperative she get through to the end of the week. After that, if she delivers the baby..."

Joe was normally calm in the most stressful of circumstances, but this time he tensed as he sat up straight. “You're not planning on having her stay here to have the baby, are you?"

"No. By week's end I plan to get her to the hospital in Bahrain.” The sense of loss clutched at him like a plague. It rumbled deep in his gut. “No, with everything going on, I want her protected; This is definitely not a good situation here, not right now."

"Good. So, after that, what are you going to do about her?"

Eric pushed away from the table. “Come on, let's get on with things, I've got a ship to run. And don't you have some women to interview?"

He held the door open and waited while Joe picked up his file and followed. “You're right. I need to be prepared for this JAG guy when he shows up tonight."

Eric left feeling guilty for not answering Joe's last question. But this was private. Not only did he not want to discuss it, there were too many sailors lurking about, too many ears listening. On top of that, he really had no idea what he was going to do.

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Chapter Twenty-Three

Unable to sit, he began to pace the width of the bridge, back and forth, bent forward, hands linked behind his back. Eric found himself thinking of Abby—couldn't get her out of his head. She was a continuous distraction in his thoughts, stealing his focus which needed to remain alert and sharp. He huffed out a pent-up groan and decided then to give in to the aching desire to see her.

"Captain, did you hear me?” Jarred from the wayward thoughts, he acknowledged the Deputy Intelligence Chief Monroe. “A British Destroyer was spotted 50 miles offshore, navigating toward a naval gunfire support position."

"Did you notify the Vincent?"

"Yes, sir."

"Okay, notify me when you find out what they're doing there."

Eric gave a quick nod to the Officer of the Deck, who was now in charge, and left the bridge. He told himself as he strode toward sickbay that once he checked on Abby he would be able to concentrate on his duties.

She sat propped up in bed, supported by a mound of pillows, reading a book. She lifted her head, her eyes dancing when she saw him. She closed her book and tossed it to the foot of the bed.

Just the thought of telling her about Gail's lies brought up a sick feeling from inside him. How would she respond? Would she spurn him, turn her back, and walk away? He could not help the way his old insecurities rose up inside. He pulled in a breath, securing the wall of armor that had formed around him such a long time ago. The way she lit up caused a flicker inside the hardened gut. From deep down, and from about the same place as the sick feeling, came the awareness that it was too late for him. As much as he'd tried to block it out, as much as he'd tried to deny it, he knew this beautiful thing was under his skin. How hard it was going to be to move her off the ship.
It's for the best, for her health and safety,
he reminded himself, but for some reason he just could not accept it. Once she was off the ship, on dry land, in a normal lifetime situation, would she go her way and forget him? That infatuation he saw in her eyes when she looked at him would eventually be turned on someone else. God, he couldn't bear the thought of that.