As Annabelle thought about it, more possibilities came to the fore. She could take the empty rice vials and persuade Otis to collect the samples in Madagascar. More importantly, she could serve as a neutral party in bringing the issue of the tainted applesauce to Good Housekeeping’s attention. As the owner of a rival company, Gray could never appear disinterested, but she could.

And although she didn’t want to admit it, a tiny part of her hoped the enforced proximity over the next week might give the wounds between her and Gray a chance to heal.

“When do I leave?” she asked.

It was barely light at six o’clock in the morning when Annabelle followed Caroline to the Pelican. The ship would sail on the noon tide, but now was the best time to slip aboard without notice. Longshoremen scrambled to fuel the ship, and Annabelle watched the process in fascination. A conveyor belt with metal buckets, much like those used for lifting grain into silos, carried crates of coal up toward an opening on the side of the Pelican. She’d never put much thought into how a ship was fueled, but it was fun to watch.

“Keep moving,” Caroline said impatiently, prodding Annabelle up the gangway leading into the ship.

It was dim inside and a little claustrophobic. Annabelle couldn’t see much beyond the skinny hallway that looked identical in both directions. The ceiling was so low that she could touch it if she stood on tiptoe, and she was short! Now that she was actually on board, doubts began to creep in, but she didn’t let them take root. Gray already despised her, so the only thing she stood to lose was a little dignity if the plan failed, and she could handle that.

“This way,” Caroline whispered, leading her down the passageway. Their footsteps seemed painfully loud in the metal hallway until they finally arrived at a wide doorway that opened into a huge, cavernous space. “This is one of the cargo holds,” Caroline explained. “It won’t be used for this trip, so it will be a safe place to hide until the ship is far out at sea.”

Annabelle peered inside. It could be a ballroom, if ballrooms had steel girders, a dank smell, and barely any light. Stacks of pallets and big wooden casks clustered in one corner, and her breathing sounded unnaturally loud in the metal room.

“Wait until dinnertime to come out,” Caroline advised. “It will be too late to turn back, and Gray will have to live with what we’ve done. A word of warning.” She pointed a finger in Annabelle’s face. “You are to keep your hands off my brother. Don’t get any ideas.”

That pointed finger rankled. “What if he doesn’t want to keep his hands off me?” Annabelle challenged.