Deep Blue (11 page)

“That’s what he said.” She frowned, thinking of the warning he had given her. “It seemed like kind of an odd trip, even for Brad. I mean, he didn’t stay very long and he didn’t seem all that interested in the search.”

“Actually, I was thinking that myself.”

“He said something funny to me down in the galley…something about Hartley House. He made it sound like it was just general advice, a casual bit of conversation, but it sounded more like a warning.”

Conn’s dark eyebrows drew together. “What did he say?”

“He said he’d read my article in the
Midday News,
though he didn’t know I was the one who wrote it. I asked him if he thought the guys who wanted to own the property would do something illegal to get it—like setting the place on fire. Brad, of course, said I’d been watching too many movies. Then he said that if they did have something to do with the fire, guys like that meant business. He also told me I shouldn’t get involved in something I couldn’t handle. It kind of scared me the way he looked when he said it.”

Conn’s frown deepened. “Are you telling me you think maybe Talbot is somehow involved?”

“I don’t know. When you think about it, he’s the guy who got me pulled off the story in the first place. Maybe he’s one of the partners in Americal—they’re the company that’s been after Buddy to sell.”

“It’s possible, I guess. Talbot’s got his nose in a lot of different things. I don’t suppose you’ve heard anything yet from that detective you hired.”

“No, but he hasn’t had much time. If I don’t hear from him in a couple more days, I’m going to call him.”

“Good idea.”

“Of course, I might just be getting a little paranoid. Brad would love nothing better than to play the hard guy, make me think he’s more than just the spoiled playboy we both know he is.”

“True enough. But when you talk to that detective—what’s his name?”

“Jimmy Deitz.”

“When you talk to Deitz, be sure you tell him what Brad Talbot said. He might not think you’re being paranoid at all.”

Hope checked her e-mail again two days later, but found nothing from either Buddy Newton or Jimmy Deitz. She got a message from Gordy Weitzman that included an attachment: a four-year-old article from the real estate section of the
Miami Herald.
It was a feature about Eddie Markham and the plans he had for Pleasure Island.

According to the article, Eddie had bought the expensive piece of property three years earlier. He was a developer by trade, a very successful one, or so the paper said. He had been contacted by the seller, whose not-so-grandiose plans had never come to fruition and wanted to retire. Eddie had flown down to see the island.

According to the
Herald,
Markham had fallen in love with the place, recognized its potential, and become the owner three months later. Since then, he’d spent most of his time developing the property and promoting the sale of his luxury condominiums, villas, and time-share units. But the article was four years old. The island was developing, but there still weren’t many people living there, and there were lots of time-share units still for sale.

Hope couldn’t help thinking that so far, Pleasure Island might not have lived up to Eddie Markham’s high expectations.

Which was undoubtedly the reason he had jumped at the idea of searching for treasure off the coast and welcomed the articles she was writing for
Adventure
magazine.

She glanced up from the computer screen as a shadow moved in front of the doorway. “You about through in there?”

“Just done. Do you need to use the computer?”

Conn shook his head. “It’s another gorgeous day in paradise. Joe’s feeling housebound and so am I. We thought maybe we’d take you and Michael diving. That is, if you’re interested.”

She shot up out of her chair. “Interested! Are you kidding?”

“So you’re up for it?”

“I’d love to go!”

“All right, then let’s get our gear. We can take the Boston Whaler down to that area between the cannon and the reef. Who knows, we might get lucky and find something else off the wreck.”

“I need to change into my bathing suit. I’ll meet you on deck in fifteen minutes.” Hurrying toward the ladder leading down to the cabins in the bow, Hope made her way to her quarters. She put on her conservative purple, two-piece swimsuit—though a wicked little part of her wanted to put on her very tiny yellow flowered bikini—and headed back to the deck.

Conn was waiting. His eyes widened when he saw her padding toward him and she thought he liked what he saw.

She
certainly did. He was wearing just his swimsuit, not diving in his wetsuit, probably because neither she nor Michael had one, but he had told her the suits were great protection from all sorts of things in the water, including the cold deeper down, and he rarely dived without one.

He walked toward her and she tried not to notice how good he looked, but it was almost impossible not to stare at all those rippling muscles.

“Where are Joe and Michael?” she asked, trying to concentrate on anything but that flat, six-pack stomach.

“We’re right here!” Joe called out, breaking into her thoughts, thank God. Michael padded along in his wake, tall and gangly now, but with shoulders that hinted at a powerful build more like his father’s.

“It’s a little shallower up by the reef,” Conn said, “maybe thirty, thirty-five feet, and there’ll be lots of interesting things to see.”

“I can hardly wait,” Hope said.

“You like to dive?” Michael asked.

Hope reached down and picked up the swim fins Joe was hauling out of the gear bin. “I’m pretty new at it, but I liked it the times I tried it before.”

“Cuponya!”
Michael said, grinning. “It means I am surprised and pleased in patois, the language of Jamaica. It comes from a mixture of English, Spanish, and African.” She knew Jamaicans were proud of the language they had developed over the years. It was fun to listen to but difficult to understand unless you were Jamaican.

“You’ll have to teach me sometime.”

Michael seemed pleased. “I will be happy to.”

King appeared on deck to help them get their equipment loaded aboard the Whaler and all of them into the boat.

“You do what Joe say,” King instructed his son.

“I will, Father.”

The big man only smiled. He didn’t seem the least concerned about his son’s safety, and when Joe and Michael went into the water, she understood why. The kid seemed at least half fish, cutting through the water with far more grace than he had on land, and way more at ease in his diving gear than Hope ever would be.

“Just take it easy,” Conn said to her, drawing her attention. “Remember to breathe evenly and not to hold your breath, even if your regulator comes out or if you have a problem.”

She nodded, eager to get into the sea, her lessons coming back to her. They all climbed into the boat and Conn fired up the motor. In the distance, the boats arriving from her article on the Internet had increased to nearly a dozen, some staying only a short while, others having been out there several days. As Eddie had hoped, they usually docked for a while on Pleasure Island before returning to Jamaica or wherever they had come from.

So far, none of them had given Conn any trouble, for which Hope was grateful. Still, she knew he disliked having them out there.

Today the boats were mostly off the south shore of the island, closer to where the
Conquest
was currently searching. It was quiet today along the reef.

“You ready?”

Hope grinned. “If you’re waiting for me, you’re backing up,” she said, quoting Joe.

Joe grinned and Michael laughed. They both seemed equally ready.

“All right, then,” Conn said to Hope. “Just stay close to me and you’ll be fine.”

Two of them sat on each side of the boat, facing inward. Hope pulled her mask down over her nose and put the regulator into her mouth. Conn gave her the thumbs-up sign, and holding their masks in place, they tipped backward into the water.

A barrage of air bubbles rushed past her. Hope felt good right away, light and buoyant, free in a way that could never happen on land. She moved her legs, stroking her fins back and forth, getting the feel of using them again. She turned to Conn and gave him the sign for everything is okay and Conn returned the gesture.

They started down through the water, Joe and Michael swimming a little ahead, taking it slowly, stopping to let their ears adjust to the pressure. Around them, the sea was a soft aqua green, the bright sun dappling the water from above, slanting down and making it easy for them to see.

This close to the main section of the reef, they swam past tall, chunky outcroppings of coral. She spotted a huge orange elephant ear sponge and saw tube sponges in blue and red and orange. High stands of soft gorgonian—sea whips, sea rods, and sea plumes—waved to and fro in the light current, and seaweed wove up through the rocky coral surface, hiding sea urchins, octopus, and an occasional barracuda. Great schools of small glassy sweepers darted past, so close she could reach out and touch them.

It didn’t take long for Hope to relax, to breathe without conscious thought, to be absorbed totally by the breathtaking beauty around her.

A cluster of small, red-and-white jellyfish floated past, far enough away not to be a danger. Several large fish swam into range, but none of them looked like sharks so she wasn’t concerned.

They stayed below for about thirty minutes, Conn pointing out different colorful fish and interesting coral formations. He was completely at home in the water and she could tell he was enjoying every moment down there.

So was she. So much so that it took a while before she noticed the shadow creeping over them, beginning to block out the sun. Conn took her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze, worried as she followed his gaze toward the surface. He made the sign that everything was all right, that she shouldn’t be afraid, but still, for an instant as she realized the huge shadow blocking out the sun was a fish, her heart nearly stopped beating.

A gigantic ray at least twenty-five feet wide, floated past above their heads, the most magnificent creature she had ever seen.

As soon as the ray moved safely away, its great wings carrying it farther out to sea, Conn pointed to the surface. Hope nodded and began keeping pace with his slow ascent. They came up right next to the boat and Conn tipped up his face mask.

Hope did the same. She looked at him, thought of the huge ray they had seen, and let out a big whoop of joy.

“That was incredible! I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Conn was smiling, looking at her with undisguised warmth. “Giant Atlantic Manta. Devil ray, they call it, among other things. They can weigh up to three thousand pounds.”

“Oh, my God!”

“I was afraid you’d be scared. I’m really glad you weren’t.”

“It was wonderful. Amazing! When can we go back down?”

Michael’s wooly head popped up just then, Joe’s an instant later. “Did you see that?”

“Are you kidding?” Hope’s voice still rang with excitement. “I thought we were having an eclipse.”

Conn chuckled and Michael grinned. “That was unbelievable. I can’t wait to tell my father.”

“That’s good,” Joe said, “because I kind of need to get back. What say we do this again tomorrow?”

Hope grinned. “Sounds good to me.”

Joe looked at Conn. “There’s a place a little closer to the reef I think we should try. There’s a chance Mike and I may have spotted one of the
Santa Ynez
anchors.”

“Great. Tomorrow we’ll bring the portable metal detectors. See what else we might find.”

It sounded like fun to Hope. She was here, though not by choice. She was doing all she could to help poor Buddy Newton. She might as well make the best of the situation, enjoy herself as much as she possibly could.

Conn hauled himself up into the Whaler then reached down for her hand. He took a solid grip and pulled her into the boat beside him. Skin brushed skin and a little thrill shot through her. She looked up at him, saw the heated look in his eyes, felt her heart pounding and the blood rushing through her veins.

Conn was here and so was she. Both of them were adults. Surely they would be able to accept their physical attraction for what it was. It was time to do what both of them wanted.

She cast him another glance.

Past time, Hope thought.

Unfortunately, now that she had made her decision—assuming Conn really wanted her as much as she wanted him—sleeping with him wasn’t going to be that easy.

She wasn’t about to invite him into her cabin—not with six sex-hungry men aboard. She amended that, since Andy was married and surely Joe never went long without it. And there was Michael to consider, a curious, impressionable twelve-year-old Hope was growing more and more fond of.

Maybe she and Conn could get together when the boat returned to Jamaica to resupply. The rooms at the Bayside Inn weren’t much, but any one of them would serve the purpose.

She would have to wait and see.

In the meantime, both of them were busy. The search for the
Conquest
was moving ahead, the computer plotting and replotting the grid, the sophisticated GPS system covering each section of ocean along the sandbar running parallel to the shore, but so far there had been no sign of the
Rosa.

In the mornings, while Conn went over search coordinates, Hope checked her e-mail. A note came in from her friend, Jackie Aimes, telling her about a fantastic new man she had just met, but there was still no word from Jimmy Deitz.

Deciding it was past time to call, Hope borrowed the satellite cell and dialed his office number. A young guy answered who said he was Jimmy’s assistant. Hope told him who she was and he put the call through to his boss.

“Hello, Mr. Deitz, it’s Hope Sinclair. I was hoping to hear from you by now but since I haven’t, I decided to call.”

A long pause on Jimmy’s end of the line. “Sorry, but this isn’t an easy case and it hasn’t been all that long. I’m working on it.”

“Have you found anything out about the fire?”

She could almost see him shrug his shoulders. “Could have been arson. Fire captain doesn’t think so.”

“What do you think?”

Another long pause. “Like I said…it could be, maybe not.”

“What about Americal Corporation? Have you found out who owns it?”

“Atlantic Securities, Devcon Development, and the Inverness Corporation are the owners of record.”

“I
know
that much. I also know there’s another layer of companies who own those three. I need you to dig deeper, find out who the real owners are.”

“I told you, I’m working on it.”

“So you don’t know who Americal is. Have you at least found out what the potential buyers plan to do with the Hartley House property?”

“I haven’t got anything solid. If I learn something, I’ll call you.” Jimmy hung up, disconnecting the line, leaving the phone in her hand. She silently cursed and set it back down on the table. It was only a few minutes later that the phone started to ring.

Hope flicked a glance at Conn, who gave the nod to answer it, and she picked it back up. “
Conquest.
”

“It’s Jimmy. I’m calling from a pay phone in the lobby. I got a feeling my phone’s been tapped.”

A little shiver ran through her. “What’s going on, Jimmy?”

A raspy sigh whispered over the line. “The truth is, I’m getting a lot of pressure on this case. A guy came to see me, didn’t give me his name. The people he works for want me to phony up the investigation. And they’re willing to pay me—big-time.”

For a minute, she couldn’t find her voice. “So then it has to be true. Buddy Newton’s getting shafted. The condemnation’s nothing but bull. Somebody’s paying off somebody to make sure he’s forced to sell. It has to be that or they wouldn’t be trying to stop you from doing your job.”

“That’s what I figure. I don’t like the way these guys operate. I’ve never worked both sides of the street and I’m not going to start now. But the smart thing to do is not to let them know. They think I’m working for them and for now that’s the way I’m gonna leave it.”

“You think you might be in danger?”

“I don’t think these guys are kidding around. But I’ll keep after this, just the way I promised. Only thing is, I’ll have to go slow so they don’t find out what I’m doing.”

Her heart was beating, thumping almost painfully inside her chest. “I think Brad Talbot is somehow involved.”

“Talbot Enterprises? The Doormat King?
That
Brad Talbot?”

“Yes. He was down here a couple of days ago. I think he came to give me a warning.”

“Yeah? What’d he say?”

She repeated Talbot’s words, the phrase that kept running through her head—
guys like that mean business…you might want to remember that.
As Conn had suggested, Jimmy didn’t seem to think she was paranoid at all.

“Like I told you. I’ll keep after it, but don’t expect miracles. Tell Newton if he’s determined to fight these guys, he’d better be prepared. Whoever this is, they’re playing hardball.”

Hardball.
The shiver struck again. “Thanks, Jimmy. I’ll let Buddy know what you said.”

“Keep my name out of it. Otherwise, I’ll be dead in the water.”

She hoped he didn’t mean that literally. “If you’ve got something, call me. Otherwise, I’ll phone your office once a week and you can feed me whatever false info you need to.”

“You got it.” Jimmy hung up, ending the call. As she set the cell back down on the table, Hope saw that her hand was shaking.

Conn saw it, too. He caught her fingers and wrapped them tightly in his. “I heard what you were saying. I guess you and Buddy were right all along.”

“I guess so.”

“I don’t like this, Hope. Talbot came out here personally. He obviously has some stake in this and the guy has the kind of power to do something about it. I think you ought to advise the old man to sell. If he doesn’t, something might happen. Someone might get seriously hurt, maybe even killed.”

She bit down on her lip. “I’ll warn Buddy. I just won’t tell him how I know. But I won’t talk him into selling. That place is his home. It isn’t fair that someone should be able to just walk in and take it.”

“Life isn’t always fair, Hope. You’re old enough to know that by now.”

“No, it isn’t. But maybe this time we can make it fair.”

Conn didn’t argue, but his jaw looked hard. “I don’t like this,” he repeated.

And she thought that for once they agreed.

They dived together again the next day and, as Joe had promised, found the ancient anchor, the artifact clearly stamped with the name
Santa Ynez
on one side. As exciting as it was to find something that old, they didn’t bring it up. They had no real use for it and as long as it stayed where it was, the anchor would be preserved.

The time they spent beneath the surface passed quickly. Hope loved prowling the undersea world, swimming part of the time with Michael or Joe, but mostly with Conn. He always stayed close at hand, watching to be sure she was all right, so when Joe tapped him on the shoulder and motioned for Conn to take a look at something he had found, Hope didn’t think much about it.

Michael was swimming nearby and she saw him dart behind an outcropping of coral and turned to follow. Michael made another turn, exploring the reef here and there, then his dive light illuminated what appeared to be an opening in the coral. Michael swam in and Hope followed.

It was a cave of sorts, she realized with awe, shining her dive light around, amazed by the beautiful coral formations and flashing schools of fish. A brilliant yellow angelfish swam past and she followed it with her light.

Michael swam to the opposite side of the cave, which was maybe twenty feet across with rough coral walls that grew together above their heads. She heard a soft sort of rumble, felt the water move around her, fanned the beam of her light again, turned—and saw Michael.

Somehow he had dislodged an outcropping of rock that formed a natural ledge about halfway up the wall. The heavy rock ledge and jagged pieces of coral sitting on top had tumbled toward him, landing on his leg and ankle and trapping him in between the rocks. Worse yet, Michael’s hose had also suffered. In the small avalanche, a hole had been gouged in the tube. The air was rushing out of his tank, the hose filling with water.

For the first time since she had been diving, a tremor of fear went through her. The boy had no breathable air and he couldn’t pull himself free. His dark eyes were wide behind the mask as he motioned frantically for her to help him.

Hope took a steadying breath and started swimming toward him, determined to stay calm, knowing she had to think clearly in such a dangerous situation. Michael took his regulator out of his mouth as Hope took a breath, removed hers, and held it out to him. Each of them remembered not to hold their breath and let a few air bubbles trickle out as they shared the breathing device.

Bending down, she tried to move the heavy rocks, tried to wedge her foot under the pile, tugged and pulled using every ounce of her strength, but she couldn’t even budge them. She tried to remove Michael’s swim fin, even used her dive knife to try to cut it free, hoping that without it he could pull himself loose, but the fin was lodged as tightly as his foot.

She kept looking back through the cave-opening, praying Conn would show up, but he didn’t appear. She set her dive light on a rock pointing toward the entrance, but there was a slight bend in the path leading into the cave and the light didn’t reach the outside.

She glanced over at Michael, who seemed calmer now that he was able to breathe again. He was a good diver and he didn’t panic, and with her there to help him, he was certain he would find a way out of this dilemma.

But minute by minute, Hope was growing more and more nervous. She didn’t want to leave Michael, but they’d already been down quite a while and unless Conn or Joe found them soon, they were going to run out of air. She and Michael passed the regulator back and forth, both of them silently praying help would arrive, but it didn’t look like it was going to happen.

Hope checked her dive computer, and seeing the time she had left, her decision was made. She would have to leave her tank with Michael and swim off on her own. She wasn’t sure how far she would get on one breath of air before she would have to return for another, but maybe Conn or Joe wouldn’t be that far away.

She unfastened the buckles that strapped her tank onto her back, slipped out of the harness, and signaled to Michael she was going to go for help. She would leave the dive light sitting on the rock, hoping it would comfort the boy, knowing it would be light enough to see once she got outside the cave.

Taking a couple of last, lung-filling breaths, she gave Michael’s arm a reassuring squeeze and swam out through the opening.

Conn told himself to stay calm but his heart was pounding, thundering inside his chest. In the past, he’d been in some really tough spots in the SEALs and it was always his cool head and calm thinking that had helped him and his men survive.

But this was Hope, not one of his men—Hope and a twelve-year-old boy—and it wasn’t nearly the same. God, how could he have lost them? He had only swum a few feet away, hadn’t been gone more than seconds. But when he’d looked back, both of them were gone.

He signaled to Joe, who also seemed calm but was inwardly as frantic as he. They should have gone up by now. The cold at that depth was beginning to leach into them. Their dive computers calculated exactly how much time and air they had left and by now it wasn’t much. Both Hope and Michael knew how to use the computers, knew how important it was to pay attention to the time. They had to be in some kind of trouble.

Jesus, he had to find them!

Joe moved off in a new direction and so did Conn, swimming through walls of coral, making twists and turns in the area where the four of them had been diving, fanning out a little, but not getting too far away from the place he had originally lost them. Where the hell were they?

Time slipped past. He rechecked his computer. The air in the tanks was down to the final minutes. They would have to head up to the surface for air, have to start free-diving soon.

His heartbeat pounded in his ears. He usually found the quiet around him tranquil, but now it seemed ominous and deadly. He saw Joe approaching, shaking his head. No sign of either one of them. Joe headed off, swimming even faster, his fear escalating as rapidly as Conn’s. Joe disappeared behind a coral hedge while Conn made another pass through the tall alleys and plateaus in this portion of the reef.

As he swam through the rock-like terrain, his gaze continually searching, Hope’s image appeared in his mind, her face glowing with the excitement of seeing the gigantic ray.

She had to be here somewhere. She couldn’t die, he thought with renewed determination.

Not when he had only just found her.

Hope returned to the cave for several more breaths of air but their supply was rapidly being depleted and she still hadn’t spotted Conn or Joe. They were searching for her and Michael, she knew, doing everything in their power to find them, but the cave was hard to spot and they had probably spread out to widen the search.

She swam back to Michael and saw that he knew how little time they had left. For an instant, their eyes met and held. She saw the fear in them, the heartbreaking resignation. His gaze remained on her face as he held out the tank to her, telling her to take it and return to the surface before it was too late. Telling her he was resigned to his fate.

Behind her mask, tears burned her eyes. She didn’t need the tank, she told him, shoving it back into his slim hands. She could make it to the surface on her own. But she wasn’t going up—not yet. She was going to find Conn this time, no matter what it took.

She reached for Michael and caught his face between her hands, letting him know she wasn’t going to abandon him. That she was going to save him. But both of them knew time was up. One last chance was all she had.

She breathed in a lungful of air, whirled and started swimming. Conn was out there. She would look as long as she dared, then head for the surface for another breath of air. But she would have to decompress along the way and that would take time, and time was something Michael did not have.

Figuring her best chance was to return to the spot where the four of them had last been together, she pushed down hard with her legs, the big fins propelling her forward, and swam as hard as she could.