“Yeah, well...” Liam moved his shoulders as if they were tight. “Miller from Marine Studies went out to check.”

“Check on what?”

“On Stephen. He was unconscious on the deck. The waves were crashing over the rails.” Liam didn’t seem to notice DeAnna had turned pale. “Miller touched Stephen, but he was cold, and Miller realized the stain on the deck was blood. The rain kept washing it away, so he turned him over. Stephen had been stabbed in the back.”

DeAnna gasped and put her hand to her mouth.

“Miller rushed into the party and announced Stephen was dead.”

She could only imagine the uproar that created.

“Someone got smart and called the doctor. Who was drunk in his cabin.”

“Figures.” The doctor was the only incompetent on the ship.

“He staggered up on deck and said Stephen wasn’t dead and for us to move him inside.”

“No kidding!” That seemed obvious to DeAnna.

Defensively, Liam said, “We were afraid of internal injuries.”

“Sounds like he had to have internal injuries. Was he in shock?” DeAnna might get seasick, but she knew a few things about first aid from Girl Scouts and some courses before she’d come onboard.

“Yes. We carried him into the mess and placed him on a table. He was waxy white. I thought he was dead for sure.” At the memory, Liam looked ill. “We covered him in blankets. The doctor examined the wound, and he said it looked like he’d been shot with an arrow, then it had been torn out.”

“Does someone have arrows on the ship?” DeAnna doubted that.

“Nope, but you know Gunner from Operations? He came in carrying a boathook. It had come loose from the wall, and he said he guessed Stephen had tripped and fallen on it.”

“Huh.” DeAnna doubted that even more.

Liam nodded. “I agree. Sounds lame. But who would hurt Stephen?”

“You’re right.” Yet she was troubled. Was somebody onboard disturbed enough to try to kill Penderghast? Without him, this ship might never sail again.

The EMTs appeared. Stephen was strapped to a wheeled stretcher. IV lines ran from a bottle into his arm. Oxygen tubes were taped to his pale face. The little DeAnna could see convinced her it would take a miracle to save him. Yet, his eyes were open and alert.

Liam went right to the heart of the matter. “If he dies, what happens to the funding for this ship? I’m in the middle of my weather-influenced current changes study, and to stop now before I have results—”

“Oh, shut up.”

“Like you’re not worried about your undersea geologic features.”

She was, of course. But to talk like that when a man could be dying... How crass. “I’d suggest that you pray that Stephen lives.”

“I’m a scientist. I don’t believe in prayer.”