"Thanks."
Colleen left and Randy Diego entered, dropping into the seat at his own desk. Paul waved in greeting. "Hey, Randy, did you hear what Colleen said? No bomb."
"Really? That's good."
Paul gave Randy a curious glance. "What's up? You seem distracted."
"No. No. Just, you know, busy."
"Sure." Paul bent back to his own work.
"Uh, okay if I ask you something, Paul?"
Paul glanced at Randy again, alerted by his hesitant tone. "What about?"
"Well, I mean, you and Jen, you're both on active duty and you're dating and all." Randy paused, looking into one corner of the stateroom while Paul waited. "I was just wondering how that's working out."
"It's working out fine, Randy. You know we don't see each other nearly as often as we'd like. My ship's out, or her ship's out, or we've got duty or have to work all night or something. You know how it goes. And of course there's the hazards of the job. I guess if my girlfriend worked as a stockbroker on Earth I wouldn't have to worry about that kind of thing. But since Jen was on the Maury I had some real heart-stopping moments." He found it easier to talk about, now. Now that the immediate fears of those awful hours had finally begun receding into memory like the remnants of a bad dream.
"Uh, yeah. But, what about… uh… I mean… you guys must've gotten interested in each other while you were both onboard the same ship, right? While you and Jen were both on the Michaelson?"
Paul frowned, not sure now where Randy was trying to go. "Not really. We were friends. We didn't do anything beyond that until Jen transferred to the Maury." That wasn't strictly true, since they'd actually gotten very personal a few nights before Jen's transfer, but Paul knew the relationship had remained hidden until Jen had left the Michaelson. Hidden from everyone except the Michaelson 's old XO, that is. But Commander Herdez had trusted their professionalism. Randy, on the other hand, isn't a bad guy, but he's not the sharpest tool in the shed, either. No way Herdez would've cut him that slack.
Randy nodded rapidly. "Yeah. Sure. But you got to know each other real well before that, right?"
Alarm bells finally sounded in Paul's mind. Great. Randy's got the hots for one of the other officers. "Not that well. In no way, shape or form. It's a bad idea, Randy. It's also against regulations. Keep it professional until she leaves the ship, Randy."
"I didn't say-"
"You don't have to. Look, maybe she feels the same interest you do. If she does, you can try dating after she leaves the ship. If she's not interested after she leaves the ship, then she's not interested now. Right?" Randy avoided Paul's eyes. "There's no way to hide a real romance inside the wardroom, Randy. Anybody'd be able to see you two making goopy eyes at each other." Jen's phrase, though Paul'd never been sure exactly what "goopy eyes" were.
"But-" Randy interrupted himself this time, still avoiding Paul's gaze.
Paul felt another suspicion arise. "How recent is this?"
"Who said it was recent? Who said anything's recent or anything's going on?"
"Has Isakov been flirting with you?"
Randy jerked his head around, then tried to pretend nonchalance. "A lieutenant? I wish."
"Randy, she's been teasing at me off and on. When she's not acting like I'm someone she's never seen before and doesn't want to talk to. I think it's some kind of weird power game she plays. Stay away from her."
"You know, just maybe there's some good looking female officers out there who don't think you're the only game in town."
"This isn't about my ego, Randy. I don't want anything to do with Isakov outside of work. She's trouble."
"I wasn't born yesterday. I can take care of myself."
Famous last words. "Be careful. Think really hard and don't do anything the crew might find out about." His sailors didn't exactly love Randy from all Paul had heard, which wasn't necessarily a problem except they didn't respect him as much as they should, either. Randy had too great a tendency to insist he was right when he wasn't. If he handed the crew a way to get back at him… "Just think."
"Sure. Right. Fine. Sorry I brought it up." Randy Diego turned away, hunching forward toward his display, his back clearly communicating an end to the conversation. A few minutes later he stood and left the stateroom without a see-you-later.
Paul shook his head. Maybe one of the other female officers can talk some sense into Randy. Why couldn't he get interested in Gabriel if he wants to mess around on the ship? Not that Gabriel's acted interested in him. She's got a load more commonsense than Randy does.
He tried to concentrate on his work again.
"Mr. Sinclair?"
Paul threw up his hands. "I give up. What's up, Sheriff?"
Sharpe looked puzzled. "Something wrong, sir?"
"Just the usual one-damned-thing-after-another. So, what's up?"
"Drug bust."
"Fastow, again?"
Sharpe shook his head. "Nope. She's either scared straight or lucky. This is some bright boys in Mr. Diego's division."
"Dealers or users?"
"Maybe both. I'm going to contact the local special agents to see if they can help run down where our boys are getting their stuff. Commander Kwan told me to 'keep you informed' since you're the legal officer." Sharpe rendered a rigidly correct salute. "I hereby inform you, sir."
Paul casually returned the salute. "Thanks."
"My pleasure, sir. Anything to make your days brighter and more interesting."
"I've had a bit too much of that, lately. How are you at making them darker and duller?"
"Hi." Jen knocked on the hatch to Paul's stateroom. "Hello, Sheriff."
Sharpe inclined his head and touched his brow. "Nice to see you, ma'am."
"Likewise. What're you two plotting?"
"Mr. Sinclair was just complaining he hasn't had enough legal stuff to keep him busy lately."
Paul snorted derisively. "That tells you what a judge of character Sheriff Sharpe is. See you later, Sheriff."
Sharpe moved to leave, but Jen raised a hand to forestall him. "Can you hang around a minute? Something kind of funny happened that you might help me with."
Sharpe nodded. "Of course, ma'am."
"Have you worked with special agents much? The guys in the Naval Criminal Investigative Service?"
Sharpe frowned, but nodded again. "Yes, ma'am. Mr. Sinclair and I were just talking about that, as a matter of fact. I'm a cop, they're cops."
"I just had a long meeting with some of them. About the Maury."
"Your ship?" Sharpe eyed her. "They interviewed you about that?"
"They didn't call it an interview. They just said they wanted to meet with me. But… it was weird." Paul noticed Sharpe's expression grow more intent as Jen continued. "First they made a lot of small talk. Then they finally gave me something to sign before we really talked about the Maury. They said it was all routine and no big deal. I told them I was an engineer and I didn't sign anything without reading it."
"What'd it say?"
She glanced from Paul to Sharpe. "The part I really focused on was where it talked about waiving my rights to counsel. I asked them what that was about and they said it was all routine. Then they started asking why I thought I needed a lawyer." Sharpe began frowning. "I don't like that kind of pressure. I gave them back their form and told them I wouldn't sign it. They didn't get upset, seemed not to care, but they started asking a bunch of questions."
"What kind of questions, ma'am?" Petty Officer Sharpe seemed more concerned every time Paul looked at him.
Jen shrugged, her expression aggravated. "Why I'd gone aft before the explosion. I told them I'd been ordered to do that. Then they asked who ordered me and I said the chief engineer. I told them it was all in the official statements I'd provided. Then they wanted to know if I had any witnesses to that. Witnesses! Of course not. Everyone who witnessed it is dead."