Treasure Page 8

  “So I’ve got commitment issues, like half the single male population.” If he admitted the obvious maybe she’d drop it. “So what?”

  “One year, I even heard about a competition they had going,” she said, chuckling. “To see if someone could get him to break his rules.”

  “So now I have rules, too?” Jake glanced at Simon, futilely hoping for some form of backup. The quiet man sat with his head practically submerged in his bowl of granola as he shoveled one spoonful after another into his mouth. He obviously couldn’t exit the galley fast enough. Jake understood the feeling.

  “Rule number one,” Claire continued. “It lasts three, maybe five months tops. Never much past the World Series. Two—before the holidays hit and diving starts up, they’re history. And three—it’s never, ever, anything serious. Same thing every year.”

  Jake grunted. “I’ve been married. What about that?”

  “Valerie? I don’t know if waking up from an all-day binge and not remembering how a wedding ring got on your finger qualifies as much of anything. Besides, that was over ten years ago and it lasted only a month.”

  “It qualified for plenty as far as the courts were concerned. She took me in a real divorce, didn’t she?”

  “Yeah, but was it serious?” Claire asked.

  No. Women were easy as far as he was concerned, no challenge whatsoever when compared with a treasure hunt.

  “Jake, don’t feel bad,” Ronny interjected. “No one cares. Most people thought it was admirable that you stuck to one woman the entire season. None of the women involved mind. They make out pretty nice.”

  Well, that made him feel much better. “What’s your point, Claire?”

  She swallowed a chunk of toast with a swig of coffee. “That Annie’s not your typical fare. I think it’s best to let her know the score before she jumps into the game midquarter.”

  “Not that it’s any of your business,” Jake said. “But there isn’t going to be any gam—”

  Ronny cleared his throat and jerked his head toward the side window. Annie walked across the deck and into the galley. The conversation switched to the weather and the possibility of the storm interrupting their dives later that afternoon as Annie poured a cup of coffee and exchanged greetings with everyone.

  Typical for him or not, Annie sure looked pretty first thing in the morning. A crease from her pillow marked a cozy spot on her cheek, and recent sleep lent a quiet tenderness to her eyes. She’d be nice to wake up next to, all snuggly and warm.

  She averted her eyes from him. Apparently, she intended on following through with her promise last night to avoid him and, oddly enough, that stung.

  He found Claire studying him. “What are you looking at?”

  “Who, me?” She held out her hands. “Where’s D.W.?”

  “Still sleeping. He was at the helm until one or two in the morning.”

  Two speedboats zoomed too close to the Mañana, causing a rolling wake. Annie reached for a counter. Everyone at the table automatically lifted their coffees.

  “That’s strange.” Jake slid out from the bench, grabbed a set of binoculars from a nearby cabinet and looked out the window toward the landmass barely visible out the port bow.

  Claire, Simon and Ronny followed suit.

  “What’s the matter?” Annie asked.

  “Andros is one of the quietest Bahamian islands,” Claire explained. “The few tourists tend to keep to the east side—”

  “We’re not at Andros,” Jake said. “That’s Grand Bahama.” First the engine, and now this. At this rate they’d never get to that first dive site.

  “How in the world did we get so far off course?” Claire asked.

  “You sure?” Ronny scratched his head.

  “Look for yourself.” Disgusted, Jake handed over the binoculars.

  “I’ll be a son of a gun,” Ronny mumbled. “D.W.’s been navigating a long time. He’s never screwed up this bad.”

  “He’s never screwed up. Ever.” Claire yanked the binoculars from Ronny’s hands. “There’s got to be some other explanation.”

  Jake took off toward the control room with the crew in tow. He shoved open the door, his suspicions building. Everything had been shut down for the night. With the flip of a few switches, the systems booted up, and he studied the control panel. The others peered over his shoulders.

  Ronny said, “Never seen that happen before.”

  Annie pointed at the illuminated GPS screen. “The map shows us at Andros.”

  “The calibrations must be off.” Jake snapped the equipment back offline. “So much for the accuracy of modern navigational systems.”

  “We can set a manual course, right?” Annie offered.

  “Yep.” Claire took out maps and a pencil and began calculations.

  “First, we might as well go into Freeport to get ourselves a new cooling line.” Jake worked to keep his voice calm and nodded at Ronny, Simon and Annie. “You guys go take a break.”

  Ronny and Simon headed to the galley. Annie hung back by the door. “What can I do to help?”

  He shook his head. “Keep out of the way.”

  “I want to do something.”

  Her determination pulled at Jake. Something about her seemed different today. Her shoulders were straighter, her eyes brighter. It was as if he was seeing her for the first time. She was no longer afraid, no longer the inexperienced, inept museum curator. Last night, after discovering her background, respect for her had taken root, and after watching her try to tackle her fear of water, that respect was morphing into admiration. There was only one more hurdle she needed to jump before becoming a full-fledged member of his crew.

  “Go get yourself accustomed to the scuba equipment.” He started the engine, got it idling. “When we finally do get to Andros, we’ll need all the help we can get.”

  “You got it.” She disappeared toward the stern.

  Claire swung the door closed. “What’s going on? First the transmission. Now this. Within twelve hours of each other.”

  “A little too coincidental, isn’t it?” He pulled up anchor, turned the boat around and headed for Grand Bahama and its largest port city.

  “You think someone tampered with the GPS? Westburne maybe, or one of his men?”

  “How could they get on the boat without being seen?”

  “One of our crew left back in Miami?”

  Jake ran a hand over his chin, scratching the stubble. “I don’t know, Claire.” She looked confused and agitated, and he couldn’t blame her for wanting answers. The idea of sabotage more than unsettled him, and there was nothing he could do about it. Unless he figured out who was behind it. “All I know is that the navigation system was working when we got into Miami yesterday,” he said. “Hold the helm for a minute.”

  She took the wheel. “Why would someone do this?”

  “You got me.” He knelt, took off a panel in front of the GPS controls and dug through the mass of wires and circuitry. “Everything looks normal.” Sighing, he snapped the control panel back on. “That doesn’t mean anything. We wouldn’t be able to tell if someone had purposely recalibrated the system.”

  “Jimmy here, from the Lori Lou.” The radio buzzed the incoming transmission. “Anybody there? Over.”

  Jake lifted the radio transmitter. “Jake here. Hey, Jimmy.”

  “Morning, Jake. You watching this storm?”

  “Yeah, I checked the Internet this morning. The system’s changed direction, and it’s heading straight for us. We’ve only got a couple days before it hits.”

  “Well, I’ve got that cooling line you needed. Can’t find you here at Andros,” Jimmy said. “Where the heck are you?”

  “Grand Bahama. GPS malfunction. While we’re here, we’ll get a cooling line in Freeport. You can head back to Miami and pick up where you left off on your surveys.”

  “Not sure that’s a good idea,” Jimmy said. “You don’t want anyone else staking a claim to this dive site, right?”
>
  “Yeah?”

  “Well, the Wild Rose is here. About two miles down the west coast.”

  Westburne at Andros. Jake glanced at Claire, and she raised her eyebrows in alarm. “Did you say west coast?” he asked.

  “Sure did.”

  That proved it. The west side of Andros was one long shoal, too shallow to make any sense for a Spanish galleon to have ever anchored nearby. There was only one reason Westburne would be there. Someone had gotten into Jake’s safe since they’d left Miami, and that someone had messed with the GPS in order to buy Westburne time to locate the Concha. The rumors had to be true. That loan shark had his teeth sunk into Westburne but good.

  “Damn it!” Jake always knew there was a possibility one of his crew would someday betray him. Treasure-hunting was that kind of business with those kind of risks. He never thought it would be someone on his own boat, someone close to him.

  “What do you want us to do?” Jimmy asked.

  “Start diving at the first set of coordinates Harold gave you. We’ll rendezvous with you in a few hours. Don’t leave that dive site. You hear me, Jimmy?”

  “Loud and clear.”

  “How many men you got with you?”

  “Seven.”

  “I want four on deck at all times and the rest diving.”

  “It’d help if we knew what we’re looking for.”

  Jake glanced at Claire.

  She shrugged. “Better tell him.”

  “The Concha.”

  Jimmy laughed. “I figured you’d go off the deep end one of these days.”

  “I’m dead serious, Jimmy. Spread the word for everyone to stay alert. Cover a lot of ground. The sooner we find it, the sooner we can stake a claim to that territory.” He rubbed his hands over his eyes. “Westburne’s sleazy enough to jump through any window you leave open. If we find the Concha first, he’ll head back to Miami with his tail between his legs.”

  “If you say so, Jake. Over and out.”

  Jake took back the helm. “That confirms it.”

  “What?” Claire stepped aside.

  “Our saboteur’s definitely onboard the Mañana.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “After the transmission went out yesterday, I replaced the aerials in my safe with a couple of decoys of the west side of Andros. The only reason Westburne would be diving there is if someone got into my safe and relayed the locations to him.”

  “Jake, you’re scaring me.” Claire bit her lip. “Maybe we’d better call Harold and let him know what’s happening.”

  He shook his head. “Harold might want us to head back to Miami. Besides, we don’t know for sure who’s behind this.”

  “There’re only six of us on this boat.”

  “It’s not you or me.” Jake shrugged. “And it’s not Annie.”

  “She’s the newest crew member.” Claire propped her hand on her hip. “You wouldn’t be letting hormones overcome intellect, now, would you?”

  “Why would she come to us then feed information to Westburne? If she wanted to work with him, she would have gone to him right off the bat.”

  Claire nodded reluctantly.

  “That leaves Simon, Ronny and D.W.”

  “Let’s go talk to them.” She headed for the door.

  “In a minute.” Jake stopped her. “Don’t mention the aerials. I want to keep Westburne busy on the west coast of Andros for as long as possible.”

  “Okay. Then we need to think about this.”

  “I have a hard time believing it could be either Simon or Ronny.” Jake thought of diving with them as a boy. “I don’t remember OEI without them.”

  “Oh, no.” Claire shook her head vehemently. “Don’t you put this on D.W.”

  “He was on board when we lost the Anémona.”

  “So were Ronny and Simon,” Claire interjected. “D.W. would never do this.”

  Jake looked sideways at her, skeptical. “He’s been wanting his own boat, his own business, for a while. You know how much cash it takes to get an ocean exploration company off and running. Westburne could have offered him a huge cut.”

  “D.W. would never betray me,” she continued. “Or you. He may have been friends with Westburne in Texas—”

  “Roommates in college,” Jake interrupted.

  “You were friends with Westburne, too. That doesn’t mean anything. When you split your partnership with him, D.W. came with you for a reason.”

  “Yeah, maybe to send info back to Westburne.”

  “You jerk!” Claire spat softly back at him. “Why did you bring him along if you don’t trust him?”

  “I almost didn’t, but he’s the best diver we’ve got.” Maybe he’d unconsciously put D.W. on the helm last night as a test.

  “D.W. saved your life,” she said. “Doesn’t that count for something?”

  Jake glared at her, long and hard. He’d rehashed this many times over, never voicing his opinions, only watching and listening, not making any hasty judgments. This had been eating at him for months. “If D.W. had brought up the winch line faster he might’ve saved Sam’s life, too.”

  Claire flinched as if he’d slapped her. “That’s not fair.”

  “No?” He reached behind him, took a picture off the wall and handed it to Claire. “Take a good look. There’s plenty like it.”

  She reached out, cautiously examining the framed photo.

  “You in the middle.” Jake pointed. “Sam on one side. D.W. on the other. I bet you can’t find a picture taken with the three of you in it that isn’t situated the same way.”

  “D.W. would never betray us with Westburne.” She set the picture frame down. “He would have never, ever have hurt Sam. I can’t believe you would doubt him. He loves you like a brother.”

  Something snapped in Jake. “My brother’s dead. And your husband, Claire. Where do your loyalties lie?”

  The palm of her hand slapped against his cheek so fast, he didn’t have time to react. “This is my family, too.”

  “You’re being naive.” He rubbed his stinging cheek.

  “I’m not the problem, Jake. You are.” Her eyes pooled with tears. “It’s time you face the truth.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “It’s not D.W.’s fault that Sam’s dead.” She grabbed him by the arms and made him look at her. “Sam made a mistake, Jake. That’s why he’s gone.”

  “My brother didn’t make mistakes.”

  “Invincible, wasn’t he?”

  Jake looked away.

  “Always on the edge. Always pushing to do things better, faster.” Claire sucked in a shaky breath. “Always in competition with you. His older, over-achieving brother.”

  The engine room closed in on Jake. He turned away from her.

  “Did you ever look at his decompression gauge after the accident?” Claire asked.

  “No.”

  “Sam went too deep, Jake. That’s what killed him. You’d gone to thirty meters. Sam had to go to thirty-three. He got sick, delirious, and got caught in that winch rope because he went too deep. Because he had to do one better than you.”

  “No!” Jake spun back around. “Sam drowned because D.W. didn’t bring us up quick enough.”

  “Any quicker and you wouldn’t have made it through decompression,” Claire cried. “D.W. saved your life.”

  “He shouldn’t have worried about me. He should have brought Sam up faster.”

  “Sam was already gone,” she whispered. “D.W. did what he had to do to save you.”

  And there it was. Jake bent his head, closing her out, but the image of Sam’s face in the water as he ran out of oxygen filled the void. Jake was the older brother, the protector. He should have gotten to Sam with his regulator, gotten him some air. He shouldn’t have gotten his foot trapped in the rope. He should have wrenched his leg free, saved his brother.

  Jake should have died that day. Not Sam. OEI, his dad and mom, Claire, they all needed Sam, more than the
y needed Jake. He turned on her, anguish tearing apart his heart. “You ready to run your own boat yet, Claire?”

  In two steps she’d made it to the door. “I’m afraid you’re stuck with me for a while longer.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  “NOTHING TURNS ME ON more than a woman in a scuba mask.” Fried cinnamon roll in hand, D.W. stepped on deck for the first time that morning and winked at Annie. “Except maybe a naked woman in a scuba mask.” He wore a white T-shirt with black lettering reading, Divers Go Down.

  “Maybe you should be telling that to Claire instead of me.” Annie shrugged on a buoyancy compensation vest, snapped the straps in place and lifted an oxygen tank onto her back. Jake had said she should get a feel for the equipment. If a conversation with D.W. helped distract her, all the better.

  D.W. stopped in the middle of a big yawn and wide stretch. “I don’t know what you’re talking ’bout.”

  “Yes, you do.” She closed her lips around the regulator mouthpiece and switched it on, concentrating on breathing in and out, slowly, calmly. This wasn’t too bad. The wetsuit Jake set aside for her had felt a little odd at first. After a few minutes, it’d grown as familiar to her as the driver’s seat in her car. She’d be okay.

  Dejected, D.W. moved to the port side and slumped onto a cushioned seat. “That obvious, huh?” A bite of pastry didn’t seem to cheer him up.

  She popped out the regulator. “Look, D.W. I don’t know what’s going on between you and Claire, but I think you should tell her how you feel.”

  “Humph,” he grunted. “Easier said than done.”

  Unsnapping the straps, she set the tank back on the deck. “What’s so hard about it?”

  “A twenty-some-odd-year habit of keeping my mouth shut, that’s what.” He brushed remaining bits of glaze from his hands. “Not to mention the fact that she’s about approachable as a fire ant these days.”

  There was more to this than a smart aleck wanting to jump a pretty widow’s bones. “Tell me.” She sat on the bench across from him and waited.

  His gaze slipped to the horizon. “You really want to know?”

  Annie nodded.

  He took a deep breath. “I was five years old when my parents got divorced. My mom moved back home to Texas, but my dad had to stay in Miami because of his job. He found a smaller house, near Sammy and Claire, and I met them at a park one muggy June day. Claire was…like sunshine, strong and bright. And Sam? Heck, everyone loved Sam, and he grew up to be a good-looking son of a gun. Smooth as silk.”