Mystery in the Moonlight by Lynn Patrick Page A

a comfortable position.
    Closing her eyes, she convinced herself to relax, only to catch herself from falling off the trunk with the next roll of the ship. Eyes open as she tried to maneuver herself into a more stable position, Caitlin glared at the bunk, wishing all kinds of disasters on its occupant.

Chapter Five
    “Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum, give us a pack of wild women and we’ll all have fun…”
    Eyes opening slowly at the muffled but intrusive sound of the raspy baritone, Caitlin tried to focus on her strange surroundings. The serenade continued.
    “The sharks all dance while I play my drum…”
    Who was singing? And where on earth was she? The platform bunk on which she lay fitted neatly against one wood-paneled side of a compact room whose walls curved gently inward near the ceiling. A large table and several chairs stood opposite the bed. Above the table a row of narrow ship’s windows admitted light from the sunny day outside.
    Ship? Suddenly she remembered. She was being held prisoner…on a pirate ship!
    The details of the preceding night flooded back to her, and Caitlin felt her heart begin to pound. After Bryce had secured her in his cabin, he’d slept for a while, then left for his watch. Hoping it was safe to do so, Caitlin had moved from her uncomfortable position on the trunk into the pirate captain’s bed. But when was he coming back? It was full daylight now. Trying to extricate herself from tangled blankets, Caitlin moved jerkily, her elbow colliding with a warm, furry lump.
    “Meow!” the lump complained vociferously, leaping away into the shadows.
    At the same time the cabin’s outer door flew open to reveal a startling apparition. An old man stood there, his sparse white hair seeming to stand on end, his muscular arms covered with garish tattoos, and his grizzled beard intricately braided with tiny, sparkling beads. He stared at Caitlin as if she were the strange-looking one.
    “Hey, and what’re you doing in here?” he asked with the same gruff tone he’d been using for his singing. “Have you gone and tangled with Calico Jack, then? I warn you, he’s a tough mate to cross, almost as bad as Blackbeard.”
    “Meow!”
    The loud yowl made Caitlin jump. Huddling in the blankets, she turned from the tattooed stranger to confront slanted green eyes glowing near the foot of the bed—green eyes that certainly didn’t belong to Bryce Winslow. Caitlin and the large calico cat stared at each other.
    “Heh-heh. Like old Jack’s fancy hat?” the white-haired man asked. “He always wears one with two ears. Likes bright-colored jackets with tails too.”
    Jackets? Hat? On an animal? Was this elderly guy crazy? When Caitlin moved her feet, the cat gave one last complaint, then jumped to the floor and scurried away.
    “That’s it, go and get them rats, Jack. Round ’em up and I’ll boil ’em in a pan. Or maybe you’d rather have them fried. Just tell me after you catch them. Everybody has to do their job on this ship. Which reminds me,” the old man said, drawing himself up proudly. “I’m Low Tide Lars, the Sea Devil’s sailmaker and cook. You’re to come down to the galley with me. We’ve got fish to clean and beans to cook, maybe some serious rhyming and singing to do. Let’s see…whales, snails, bails, trails, sails…” Chanting and smiling, Lars did a little shuffling dance. “Get up, young lady, get up! There’s no time to waste laying about all day. The captain says you’re to work for your living.”
    “Am I going to be allowed to live, then?” Intending to sound sarcastic, Caitlin was shocked when her voice came out in a pitiful whisper. Coughing, she tried to clear her throat.
    “Oh, the captain never kills women until he makes full use of them.” The old man chuckled. Then, perhaps noting the look of fear that crossed Caitlin’s face, he sobered and said gently, “To tell the truth, the captain’s not much for killing women at all.”
    Was this man