Storm Winds (69 page)

Something was wrong.

Susie and Pete were both squeaking and clicking frantically as they approached the net. A shark on the other side?

She tensed.

The net was down.

What the hell … No one could unfasten the net unless they knew where it was connected. “I’ll take care of it. Go back home, guys.”

The dolphins ignored her, swimming around her protectively while she examined the net. No cuts, no tears in the strong wire. It took her only a few minutes to fasten the net again. She set off back to the cottage, her strokes strong, purposeful—and wary.

It didn’t have to be a problem. It could be Phil back from his latest journey. Her foster father had been gone for nearly seven months this time, with only an occasional phone call or postcard to tell her if he was alive or dead.

But it could be trouble. Phil had been forced to go on the run almost two years ago and the threat was only partially eliminated. There could still be people out there who wanted to get their hands on him. Phil wasn’t the most discreet person in the world, and his judgment wasn’t as keen as his intellect. He was a dreamer who took more chances than—

“Melis!”

She became still, paddling in place, her gaze on the lanai a short distance away. She could see a man’s silhouette
outlined against the lights of the living room. It wasn’t Phil’s small, wiry frame. This man was big, muscular, and vaguely familiar.

“Melis, I didn’t mean to scare you. It’s me, Cal.”

She relaxed. Cal Dugan, Phil’s first mate. No threat here. She had known and liked Cal since she was sixteen. He must have moored his boat at the pier on the other side of the house, where she couldn’t see it. She swam toward the lanai. “Why didn’t you call me? And why the devil didn’t you put the net back up? If a shark had gotten to Pete or Susie, I’d have strangled you.”

“I was going to go back and do it,” he said defensively. “Nah, I was going to persuade you to do it. I’d have to know Braille to be able to hook it up in the dark.”

“That’s not good enough. It only takes a minute to pose a threat to the dolphins. You’re just lucky it didn’t happen.”

“How do you know a shark didn’t get in?”

“Pete would have told me.”

“Oh, yeah. Pete.” He dropped a bath towel on the lanai and turned his back. “Tell me when I can turn around. I guess you haven’t taken to wearing a swimsuit?”

“Why should I? There’s no one to see me but Pete and Susie.” She hoisted herself onto the tiles and wrapped the large towel around her. “And uninvited guests.”

“Don’t be rude. Phil invited me.”

“Turn around. When’s he coming? Tomorrow?”

He turned around. “Not likely.”

“He’s not in Tobago?”

“He was setting sail for Athens when he sent me here.”

“What?”

“He told me to hop on a plane out of Genoa and come and give you this.” He handed her a large manila envelope. “And to wait here for him.”

“Wait for him? He’ll need you there. He can’t do without you, Cal.”

“That’s what I told him.” He shrugged. “He told me to come to you.”

She glanced down at the envelope. “I can’t see out here. Let’s go inside where there’s light.” She tightened the towel around her. “Make yourself some coffee while I take a look at this.”

He flinched. “Will you tell those dolphins I’m not going to hurt you and to stop screeching?”

She’d barely been aware they were still beside the lanai. “Go away, guys. It’s okay.”

Pete and Susie disappeared beneath the water.

“I’ll be damned,” Cal said. “They do understand you.”

“Yes.” Her tone was abstracted as she went into the cottage. “Genoa? What’s Phil been up to?”

“Search me. A few months ago he dropped me and the rest of the crew off in Las Palmas and told us we were on vacation for three months. He hired some temporary help to sail the
Last Home
and took off.”

“Where?”

He shrugged. “He wouldn’t say. Big secret. It wasn’t like Phil at all. It was like that time he went off with you. But this was different. He was on edge and he wouldn’t say anything when he came back and picked us up.” He grimaced. “It’s not as if we haven’t been with him for the last fifteen years. We have shared a hell of a lot together. I was there when he brought up the Spanish galleon, and Terry and Gary signed on a year later. It kind of … hurt.”

“You know when he becomes focused on something he can’t see anything else.” But she had seldom known him to close out his crew. They were as close to family as Phil would permit near him. Closer than he would let her come.

But that was probably her fault. She found it difficult to be openly affectionate with Phil. She had always been the protector in a relationship that had sometimes been both volatile and stormy. She was often impatient and frustrated with his almost childlike single-mindedness. But they were a team, they fulfilled each other’s needs, and she did like him.

“Melis.”

She glanced at Cal to find him gazing awkwardly at her. “Would you mind putting on some clothes? You’re one gorgeous woman, and even though I may be old enough to be your father, it doesn’t mean I don’t have the usual responses.”

Of course he did. It didn’t matter that he’d known her from the time she was a teenager. Men were men. Even the best of them were dominated by sex. It had taken her a long time to accept that truth without anger. “I’ll be right back.” She headed for the bedroom. “Make that coffee.”

She didn’t bother to shower before she put on her usual shorts and T-shirt. Then she sat down on the bed and reached for the envelope. It might be nothing, totally impersonal, but she didn’t want to open it in front of Cal.

The envelope contained two documents. She took out the first one and opened it.

She stiffened. “What the hell …”

“Stop arguing. I’m coming to get you.” Melis’s hand tightened on the phone. “Where are you, Phil?”

“At a tavern on the waterfront. The Delphi Hotel,” Philip Lontana said. “But I’m not going to involve you in this, Melis. Go home.”

“I will. We’re both going to go home. And I’m already involved. Did you think I was just going to sit around doing nothing after I got that notification that you’d deeded the island and the
Last Home
over to me? That’s the closest to a last will and testament I’ve ever seen. What the hell’s happening?”

“I had to turn responsible sometime.”

Not Phil. He was as close to Peter Pan as a man in his sixties could be. “What are you afraid of?”

“I’m not afraid. I just wanted to take care of you. I know we’ve had our ups and downs, but you’ve always
stood by me when I needed you. You’ve pulled me out of scrapes and kept those bloodsuckers from—”

“I’ll pull you out of this scrape too, if you’ll tell me what’s happening.”

“Nothing’s happening. The ocean is unforgiving. You can never tell when I’ll make a mistake and never—”

“Phil.”

“I’ve written it all down. It’s on the
Last Home.”

“Good. Then you can read it to me when we’re on our way back to the island.”

“That may not be possible.” He paused. “I’ve been trying to get in touch with Jed Kelby. He’s not been answering my calls.”

“Bastard.”

“Maybe. But a brilliant bastard. I’ve heard he’s a genius.”

“And where did you hear it? His publicity agent?”

“Don’t be bitter. You’ve got to give the devil his due.”

“No, I don’t. I don’t like rich men who think they can make toys of everything in the whole damn world.”

“You don’t like rich men. Period,” Phil said. “But I need you to contact him. I don’t know if I’ll be able to reach him.”

“Of course you will. Though I don’t know why you think you have to do it. You’ve never called in help before.”

“I need him. He’s got the same passion I have and the drive to make it happen.” He paused. “Promise me you’ll get him for me, Melis. It’s the most important thing I’ve ever asked of you.”

“You don’t have to—”

“Promise me.”

He wasn’t going to give up. “I promise. Satisfied?”

“No, I hated to ask you. And I hate being in this spot. If I hadn’t been so stubborn, I wouldn’t have had to—” He drew a deep breath. “But that’s water under the bridge. I can’t look back now. There’s too much to look forward to.”

“Then why make out your last will and testament, dammit?”

“Because they didn’t get a chance to do it.”

“What?”

“We should learn from their mistakes.” He paused. “Go home. Who’s taking care of Pete and Susie?”

“Cal.”

“I’m surprised you’re letting him do it. You care more about those dolphins than anyone on two legs.”

“Evidently I don’t, if I’m here. Cal will take good care of Pete and Susie. I put the fear of God in him before I left.”

He chuckled. “Or the fear of Melis. But you know how important they are. Go back to them. If you don’t hear from me in two weeks, go get Kelby. Good-bye, Melis.”

“Don’t you dare hang up. What do you want Kelby to do? Is this about that damn sonic device?”

“You know it’s never really been about that.”

“Then what is it about?”

“I knew it would upset you. Ever since you were a child, you’ve always had a thing about the
Last Home.”

“Your ship?”

“No, the other
Last Home
. Marinth.” He hung up.

She stood there, frozen, for a long moment before she slowly closed her phone.

Marinth.

My God.

“What the hell is Marinth?”

Jed Kelby stiffened in his chair. “What?”

“Marinth.” John Wilson looked up from the pile of letters he’d been scanning for Kelby. “That’s all that’s written in this letter. Just the one word. Must be some kind of prank or advertising gimmick.”

“Give it to me.” Kelby slowly reached across the desk and took the letter and envelope.

“Something wrong, Jed?” Wilson stopped sorting the letters he’d just brought on board.

“Maybe.” Kelby glanced at the name on the return address of the envelope. Philip Lontana, and the date stamp was over two weeks old. “Why the hell didn’t I get this sooner?”

“You might have, if you’d stay in one place more than a day or two,” Wilson said dryly. “I haven’t even heard from you in two weeks. I can’t be held responsible for keeping you current if you don’t cooperate. I do my best, but you’re not the easiest man to—”

“Okay, okay.” He leaned back and stared down at the letter. “Philip Lontana. I haven’t heard anything about him for a few years. I thought maybe he’d quit the business.”

“I’ve never heard of him.”

“Why should you? He’s not a stockbroker or banker, so he wouldn’t be of interest to you.”

“That’s right. I’m only interested in keeping you filthy rich and out of the clutches of the IRS.” Wilson set several documents in front of Kelby. “Sign these in triplicate.” He watched disapprovingly as Kelby signed the contracts. “You should have read those. How do you know I didn’t screw you?”

“You’re morally incapable of it. If you were going to do it, you’d have taken me to the cleaner ten years ago when you were tottering on the verge of bankruptcy.”

“True. But you pulled me out of that hole. So that’s not really a test.”

“I let you flounder for a while to see what you’d do before I stepped in.”

Wilson tilted his head. “I never realized that I was on trial.”

“Sorry.” His gaze was still on the letter. “It’s the nature of the beast. I’ve not been able to trust many people in my life, Wilson.”

God knows that was the truth, Wilson thought. Heir to one of America’s largest fortunes, Kelby and his trust fund had been fought over by his mother and grandmother from the time his father died. Court case had followed court case
until he’d reached his twenty-first birthday. Then he’d taken control with a cool ruthlessness and intelligence, jettisoned all contact with his mother and grandmother, and set up experts to manage his finances. He’d finished his education and then taken off to become the wanderer he was today. He’d been a SEAL during the Gulf War, later purchased the yacht
Trina
and started a series of underwater explorations that had brought him a fame he didn’t appreciate and money he didn’t need. Still, he seemed to thrive on the life. For the past eight years he’d lived hard and fast and dealt with some pretty unsavory characters. No, Wilson couldn’t blame him for being both wary and cynical. It didn’t bother him. He was cynical himself, and over the years he’d learned to genuinely like the bastard.

“Has Lontana tried to contact me before?” Kelby asked.

Wilson sorted through the rest of the mail. “That’s the only letter.” He flipped open his daybook. “One call on the twenty-third of June. Wanted you to return his call. Another on June twenty-fifth. Same message. My secretary asked what his business pertained to but he wouldn’t tell her. It didn’t seem urgent enough to try to track you down. Is it?”

“Possibly.” He stood up and walked across the cabin to the window. “He certainly knew how to get my attention.”

“Who is he?”

“A Brazilian oceanographer. He got a lot of press when he discovered that Spanish galleon fifteen years or so ago. His mother was American and his father Brazilian, and he’s something of a throwback to another age. I heard he thought he was some kind of grand adventurer and sailed around looking for lost cities and sunken galleons. He discovered only one galleon, but there’s no doubt he’s very sharp.”

“You’ve never met him?”

“No, I wasn’t really interested. We wouldn’t have much in common. I’m definitely a product of this age. We’re not on the same wavelength.”

Wilson wasn’t so sure. Kelby was no dreamer, but he possessed the aggressive, bold recklessness that typified the
buccaneers of this or any other century. “So what does Lontana want with you?” His gaze narrowed on Kelby. “And what do you want with Lontana?”

“I’m not sure what he wants from me.” He stood looking out at the sea, thinking. “But I know what I want from him. The question is, can he give it to me?”