with their life jackets. Most were total strangers. She seemed to be completely over her seasickness. Or she was putting up a good front. She was good at that. She could be hurting inside and still function normally. But he knew. He always knew.
Minutes passed. No announcement came and no crewmen appeared. Instead an ugly black cloud of oily smoke erupted from a vent. He herded the group to the other side of the boat.
Olivia appeared at his side. “What does that mean?” she asked with a worried glance at the billowing smoke.
“Nothing good,” he said with a frown. “A blown engine. A fire in the engine room maybe.”
“Fire?” Her eyes widened. “That means lifeboats.”
He nodded. He knew she’d stay calm no matter what. Other women might have fallen apart, but not Olivia. That was one reason why there’d never been any other woman for him. No one compared to Olivia.
“What about those inflatable rafts?” Olivia asked, pointing to some white capsules. “Aren’t they supposed to automatically inflate when they hit the water?”
“Supposed to, yes. But will they? I hope so.” He spoke quietly. He didn’t want anyone else to hear him expressing his doubts. She was the only one he’d trust not to panic.
“I’ve read stories about ferries capsizing,” she said.
He nodded grimly. He’d read the same stories. The crew gets scared and jumps overboard. Passengers are left on their own.
“Don’t worry,” he said, putting his hand on her shoulder, “I’ll take care of it.”
She nodded. She’d been steady during the cave-in on Thira. She’d even bailed the group out when the site was flooded on Rhodes. Then there were the wild tigers in Ache Province. Whatever happened, he could count on her. While others worried about carbon dating and finding cracked vases, it was the Oakleys who’d handle any emergencies that came up. And they always came up at least once during a dig.
“You can’t take care of this by yourself,” Olivia said. “Where’s the crew?”
“I don’t know. Maybe overcome by smoke. Stay with me.”
Then he waved to the group. “Everybody give me a hand,” he shouted. “We’re lowering the boats.” He ran to the starboard side of the boat and knocked the blocks loose that held a small lifeboat in place. With the help of the eight other men he loosened the other blocks and pushed the first boat out over the side. The ferry was starting to list.
“Get in,” he yelled at the members of the group. “I’ll lower the boat after it’s loaded.”
He helped Marilyn in first then a small Greek woman, then Robbins, followed by his students and the others. He motioned for Olivia to get in.
“I’m waiting for you.”
“No, you’re not,” he told her. “Get in.”
She opened her mouth to protest, but he pushed her into the boat. She clamped her mouth shut and glared at him. He knew that look. She was mad as hell at him. When the boat was full, he pulled the release lever and the boat moved slowly down toward the water.
“What about you, Jack?” one of the students yelled.
“I’ll get off. Just don’t rock the boat. When you hit the water, unhook the winch cables, front and back. Do you understand?”
The guy yelled something that sounded affirmative. Jack caught Olivia’s eye and she definitely didn’t look happy.
“If you don’t do it, the boat will be pulled down with the ferry,” he shouted at her. “This is important. Got it?”
He pointed to the cables. Olivia, looking pale and determined, nodded. Sure, she was mad at him, but she’d do what she had to do. “Good girl,” he muttered under his breath.
The lifeboat hit the water. Olivia was bounced off her seat and came down again with a thud. Damn Jack for playing the hero. He should be in this boat with them. They needed him. As usual, he took charge, did whatever he damn well pleased, thinking he knew what was best for everyone. She followed his directions, struggling with the cable hook until it came free.
She looked up at him. He gave her a thumbs-up and she heaved a sigh of relief. He’d figure out a way to join them. The hook banged against the side of the ferry. She glanced at the college kid to make sure he’d released the cable at the other end. He had.
She looked up again. Now where was he? The deck was engulfed in smoke and flames. Two men had found the oars in the lifeboat and were paddling like mad, putting space between the lifeboat and the ferry.
“Wait,” she cried. Her throat was raw. Her voice shook. “Stop. We can’t leave without Jack.”
“We have to get away before the ship capsizes,” someone next to her said. “If he’s still up there, he’ll jump.”
The lifeboat drifted away from the stricken ferry as a black column of smoke rose into the sky. A second lifeboat appeared from around the ship’s stern. Frantic, Olivia scanned the passengers, but Jack wasn’t among them. Nearly hysterical, she looked up at the ship, which was listing at a terrifying angle. There he was, still on board, helping a straggler with his life vest.
“Jack, jump!” she shouted. “It’s going down. Get off!” She watched as Jack helped the old man crawl over the railing and drop into the water, all in slow motion. Then almost methodically, Jack checked the straps on his own life vest. Her heart in her throat, she watched while he climbed onto the railing and jumped into the water. The deck disappeared in smoke. Furious with him, she felt helpless tears run down her face. He was gone.
CHAPTER TWO
THE HOTEL Argos was doing its best to cope with the arrival of the survivors of the ferry accident, the archaeology team and their usual clientele of summer tourists. Clearly the little hotel high on the hill overlooking the harbor was stretched almost beyond its capability. Though harried, Helen Marinokou, the longtime owner, made everyone feel welcome, and from the kitchen came the comforting smells of roasting meats and oven-baked pastas.
The charm of the wood-paneled dining room and the mouthwatering platters of food were lost on Olivia. She sat at a long table in the corner, surrounded by the members of the group, her eyes glued to the door, her stomach in knots, unable to eat even a bite of the traditional mezedes like green peppers and octopus salad the waitress set in the middle of the table. Yes, they were all there, picked up by a passing fishing boat and taken to the island. All but Jack.
Fred Staples, one of the young grad students from Jack’s university, poured glasses of retsina, the pineresin-flavored wine, for everyone at the table. When Olivia didn’t lift her glass for the toast, he gave her a puzzled look.
“You’re not worried about Dr. Oakley, are you?” he asked. “He’ll be along on the next rescue boat. Or he’ll swim to shore. I’ve been on digs with him before. Never missed a day of work. Blistering heat or hail storm. He’s amazing.”
Olivia managed a weak smile. Amazing, he was. At least to his students. They worshipped him. But he wasn’t indestructible. No one was. Not even Jack. He often said he had nine lives, but
