Deeper Than The Ocean by Julie Ann Walker

 

 

Chapter 35

 

Two weeks later…

 

And I thought underwater excavation was tedious, Wolf thought wearily as he waved his metal detector over the sand like he’d been doing for the last two weeks.

They’d searched the entire island and had come up with the usual culprits, some lost coins, some metal fishing gear, and two antique glass bottles with metal caps. But they’d found nothing of real import until they’d stumbled upon the campground.

Or…at least that’s what Alex was calling it.

In the center of the island, in a small circular area, they’d unearthed a trove of items that dated back to the seventeenth century. A bone-handled dagger, a copper sundial, a small brass bell used to summon servants, and the pièce de résistance…two metal buttons stamped with the captain of the Santa Cristina’s family crest.

Bartolome Vargas had survived the wreck of the grand galleon and had been on the island. By the looks of the other items they’d found—an old trash pit filled with fish bones and a circle of stones that appeared to have been a fire ring at one point—so had some of his crew.

At first, the Deep Six guys and gals had celebrated the news as if they’d found the treasure itself. But after days of meticulously searching the campsite and the area around it, they’d failed to locate the mother lode.

As had happened when they’d come to the end of excavating the Santa Cristina’s water-logged remains, disappointment and dejection were setting in. And even though it was barely past noon, LT sighed and said, “I think we’ve officially done all we can at this site. Let’s pack up and head back to the house for lunch.”

“On guard!” Bran lifted his metal detector like a sword and challenged Doc.

Bran used humor to deflect during more serious moments, and usually LT didn’t seem to mind. But their former commanding officer was having none of it today. “Yo, Brando. Let’s keep the dumbfuckery to a minimum.”

Bran lowered his metal detector. “Don’t get your knickers in a knot, LT. It only makes you walk funny.”

LT frowned. “You know, sometimes you remind me of a pizza burn on the roof of the world’s mouth.”

“You have a right to your opinion.” Bran sniffed. “And I have a right to ignore it.”

“Let’s all stop screwin’ around and get back to the house,” Wolf grumbled. “I’m hungry and I’m tired of wavin’ this damned thing around.” He indicated his metal detector.

Bran frowned at him. “You have been a little ray of absolute darkness ever since you got back from Key West. I mean, I get things were bad there. But is there something you’re not telling us?”

“You think I’ve been a little ray of absolute darkness?” Wolf shot back. “Well let me be the first to tell you, nothin’ would brighten up my day like your absence from it.”

Bran sucked in a dramatic breath and faked insult by pressing a hand to his chest.

“Gentlemen, please,” LT interrupted. “We’re all tired and hungry and disappointed. Let’s go eat and start talkin’ next steps.”

“I think the next step is ground penetrating sonar.” This from Alex. Even though they’d been working in the shade of forest all morning, she still wore zinc oxide over her freckled nose. A big glob of sand was stuck to one side of the white goo.

Mason wiped it off before putting a hugely muscled arm around Alex’s waist and pulling her close to whisper something in her ear that made her beam up at him.

Two things to understand about Mason McCarthy. One, before Alex he hadn’t exactly been the touchy-feely sort. And two, he rarely spoke. Except to Alex.

Wolf could feeltheir affection spilling into the clearing. And he was happy for Mason. He truly was. The guy had suffered a terrible divorce and had sworn off women completely until Alex convinced him otherwise. But if Wolf was being honest, he was also jealous.

Mason wasn’t able to shake Alex once she set her sights on him, and I can’t even get Chrissy to spend more than one night with me. For shit’s sake!

To make matters worse, he hadn’t seen Chrissy in two weeks. Since they were no longer diving down on the wreck, there was no reason for her to bring her customers out to Wayfarer Island.

Chrissy had called the satellite phone twice. The first time to pass on the good news that the doctors had awakened Winston from his medically induced coma. And the second time to let them know Winston had been taken off the ventilator and was looking to make a full recovery. But neither of those times had Wolf been the one to answer the phone.

He didn’t know if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

I mean, what is there to say?

He couldn’t rightly tell her the truth, which was that he missed her. Missed her every second of every day. Because that’s not what friends did. And that last day on Key West, which had been filled with tense moments while Winston was in surgery and then again while they were each taken into separate rooms at the police station to give their statements, that’s exactly what Chrissy had told him she wanted.

“Let’s go back to the way it was before, Wolf,” she’d said. “We had a good thing going, didn’t we? I don’t want to ruin that. I want us to stay friends forever.”

He hadn’t argued. Not because he hadn’t wanted to, but because he had too much dignity to beg her to love him like he loved her.

He’d hoped once he returned to Wayfarer Island, the acute, agonizing ache in his chest would lessen.

But whoever coined the phrase “out of sight, out of mind” was nuttier than a squirrel turd.

Out of sight was one thing. Out of mind was something else entirely. Something else that was entirely impossible.

“Why ground penetrating sonar?” LT asked Alex now. As a group, they’d started down the path that connected the campsite to the beach house.

“The metal detectors are only good for about eighteen inches,” Alex explained. “I originally figured that would be plenty to locate the mother lode if, indeed, it was buried here. But maybe I was wrong. Now that we’re pretty positive Captain Vargas survived the wreck, I’d say it’s possible he instructed his remaining crew to bury it eighteen feet deep. From everything I’ve read about the man, he was a tenacious sonofagun.”

“She’s right.” Mia was somewhere in the middle of the pack, so everyone held their breath to hear her. “I know this all feels discouraging. But take it from someone who’s done countless excavations and studied numerous historical sites. If the Santa Cristina’s mother lodehad been found, someone would’ve talked. It would be recorded somewhere. It wasn’t possible to hide that much wealth, even in the sixteen hundreds. And since it hasn’t been recorded anywhere, and given all the clues we’ve found, it’s my professional opinion it’s still here. Somewhere.”

Even though Wolf wasn’t in an optimistic mood, Mia’s words gave him a glimmer of hope.

They must’ve done the same for LT because he sighed and said in that slow, Louisiana drawl, “So then we try to scrounge up the money required to buy some damned ground penetratin’ sonar.”

“I can put out feelers with my contacts at the Agency,” Olivia offered. “Quite a few people still owe me favors. Maybe one of them could pull a string and let us borrow some government equipment.”

Olivia no longer worked for the CIA, but once a spook, always a spook. There was allegiance and fealty within the ranks there same as there was in the Navy.

“And I can sell back the metal detectors to the shops,” Romeo added. “A couple proprietors said they’d buy them back at half price if we returned them in good condition.”

“I guess that’s the plan then.” LT was at the front of the line of people snaking their way through the forest. Which meant when he came to a stop on the trail, the entire train screeched to a halt behind him.

Wolf brought up the caboose and had to lean sideways to see what’d caused the sudden lack of forward motion.

Uncle John, wearing his most eye-bleeding hula shirt, sauntered down the path toward them with Meat and Li’l Bastard in tow.

“John,” LT said, “we were headed your way for lunch. What is it today? Tuna casserole or tuna casserole?”

LT’s uncle only knew how to make one dish. When it was his turn to cook, they all knew what they were in for.

“You’ll be pleasantly surprised,” Uncle John said. “I ran out of saltines so I added cornflakes to the top. I think it adds somethin’.”

Romeo, who was in front of Wolf in line, turned and made a face of revulsion.

Wolf whispered, “PB&Js it is,” and Romeo nodded emphatically.

“But that’s not why I came out this way,” John said as Meat made his way down the row of people, sniffing feet and giving the occasion shin lick as he passed. Fresh on his stubby tail was Li’l Bastard. No sniffs or licks from the rooster, but he did ambush a palmetto bug that crawled near Wolf’s flip-flop. “I took a phone call from Winston Turner of all people,” John explained. “He was callin’ for you, Wolf.”

Wolf was still leaned far to the side, so he had a perfect view of everyone turning to stare at him. “Me?” he asked in confusion. “Did he say what he was callin’ for?”

John nodded. “Said he hoped you’d come visit him in the hospital this afternoon. Said around three P.M. would be good if you could make it.”

“I’ll fly you,” Romeo volunteered after a quick glance at his diver’s watch. “While you’re visiting with Winston, I can go around reselling the metal detectors. And then we can pick up fresh supplies before heading back.”

“That’s a good idea. Add saltine crackers to the list.” LT smirked and then motioned for John to turn around so they could all start moving again.

As the line trudged toward the beach house, Wolf’s mind kept coming back to the same question. What in the world does Winston want with me?

He hadn’t a clue. And reckoned he wouldn’t get one until he talked to the man.

Thirty minutes later, after having loaded up the gear, he and Romeo were inside the Otter, taxiing out into the lagoon. Alex had packed them PB&Js for the flight, but Wolf’s appetite had vanished with thoughts of possibly seeing Chrissy again.

Romeo must’ve read his mind. His voice sounded through the headset Wolf wore. “You think Chrissy will be at the hospital?”

“Don’t know.”

“If she is, what’ll you say to her?”

“Nothin’.” He shook his head. “I’ve said it all. Can’t make her love me by sayin’ more of what she already doesn’t want to hear.”