A CRY FROM THE DEEP (32 page)

“Right, I figured as much.” She regarded him while he took a forkful of eggs. “That’s why I didn’t tell Frank. I was afraid he’d get excited and tell someone. It could get back to Hennesey.”

He looked surprised. “Maybe that’s a good plan for now. Hennesey could be holding back other antiquities.”

The waitress arrived with Catherine’s order of toast.

While she was putting jam on her toast, she glanced at Daniel. He was gazing out the window as if the answers to their dilemma were somewhere else. The light from outside played on his chiseled cheeks, his mouth. She recalled the warmth of his lips on hers, and once again, desire coursed through her.

He turned to her, and looked as if he was going to say something but changed his mind. He ate some of his sausage before saying, “Did you know the divers who dove beneath Hagia Sophia in Istanbul had to undergo a full body x-ray to prove they hadn’t taken any relics off site?”

“What was there that was so valuable?” She was glad he’d changed the subject, pushing the photos to the back burner for now.

“A graveyard. The Turkish government wanted to preserve the children’s bones that lie there as well as the burial chamber of the first priest. Before it became a Muslim museum, it was a Greek Orthodox cathedral.”

“Of course. Back when the city was called Constantinople.” She drained her cup of coffee. “Full body x-rays. That’s extreme.”

Re-filling their cups from the carafe, Daniel said, “From what I’ve read, the divers wanted to stave off suspicion and rumors, so they agreed to as much openness as possible.”

“Private salvagers wouldn’t put up with that. There’d be such a hue and cry.”

He folded his arms and leaned back. “UNESCO has been fighting a losing battle for years. They now have charters outlining how countries can preserve any submerged cultural heritage. But until we can get universal adoption of these charters, the destruction and pillaging of our underwater history will continue.”

“It takes so bloody long to get anything done right.”

“Maybe we can’t stop everyone, but if we do our job, maybe we can at least stop Hennesey.”

“The operative word is maybe” said Catherine, frowning. “Sometimes I think what we do is akin to putting a finger in a dike when a tsunami is coming.”

“Let’s hope you’re wrong.”

While Daniel signed for breakfast, Catherine thought about what he`d said. They were both drawn to their work, like moths to a flame. Except moths didn’t get burned.

~~~

She waited for him in the lobby while he went to his room to call Sean. He could’ve used his cell phone, he said, but the reception was bad. Apparently, another wedding emergency. He wasn’t gone long. “Thanks for waiting, ” he said, as he walked towards her.

“No problem.” She was glad for the interruption. It had given her a chance to get her thoughts in order. It was stupid of her to be pining for a man whose mind was on another woman.

He looked at his watch. “We’ve got a little time. Do you mind going for a walk before we head to the boat?”

“Sure.” He looked serious. She wondered if it had to do with her or Sean.

They walked down the street, away from the marina. More boats were casting off. The town was quiet. The tourist crowd was probably sleeping in after their late night at the pub.

They hadn’t gone far when he said, “I’m still puzzled over yesterday. You were so distant.”

So, he had noticed after all. But he was the one who’d been distant. She avoided his inquisitive face and looked at the beach ahead. “You were preoccupied with Tom, I -”

“It wasn’t only that.” He stopped walking and grabbed her arm.

She talked fast. “It doesn’t have to mean anything. In a few weeks, we’ll both be back -.”

“Catherine,” he said, interrupting. “Will you be quiet for one minute?”

Her chest tightened. She was afraid of what he was about to say.

“Look, I didn’t mean to move in on you like that.” He paused and looked deep into her eyes. “God, you are one beautiful woman.”

Aware that her cheeks were reddening, she tugged at the sleeves of her sweater, pulling them down over her hands, as if covering them would make her more comfortable. Though she had no evidence, she held onto a glimmer of hope he was going to confess his love for her.

“But you’re right,” he said. “I am engaged and it wasn’t honorable of me. It wouldn’t be fair to you if I carried on as if Sean didn’t exist. Wouldn’t be fair to her ...” His voice trailed off.

Disappointed, she turned away and stared out at the choppy waters. Its turbulence underscored the turmoil in her mind. She didn’t know what he was going to say next, but she was already sure she wasn’t going to like it.

He turned her to face him. “Dammit, Catherine, I was attracted to you right from the start.”

Though there was sadness in his eyes, she couldn’t get past what had happened between them. He shouldn’t have kissed her, not like that, not like it meant something. Her chest ached as if some piece of her heart had been ripped out. She forced herself to swallow. “You’re right. It wasn’t fair.”

“Catherine, I don’t know what to say. All I know is I have to sort out what’s going on at home first.”

Nodding, she bit her lip and tried to smile. “It’s these damn leprechauns, making mischief.”

“I never meant…” He turned away.

Were his eyes wet, or was she imagining it? She found it unbearable being so near him, knowing there could never be anything between them. He’d go back to Sean, and she’d go back to her farm.

“Do you mind walking back on your own?” she said. Her tears were just below the surface. She didn’t want him to see her cry. He left her standing on the shore. She was sorry she hadn’t told him to go to hell.

THIRTY-TWO

Catherine did watch her step, just as Hennesey had advised. She started leaving her laptop and the SD card with the telling photos in Doreen and Adam’s safe. She then put a new card into her camera. From now on, she planned to keep her camera by her side at all times.

She hated feeling paranoid, but better paranoid than sorry. On the boat, she double checked all her equipment before diving. Daniel did the same with his. Underwater, there were a few more finds but nothing like the one she’d captured covertly with her camera.

Back on shore, she thought again about sending Frank the photos. The fact that Daniel had agreed with her hesitation cemented her decision. What eased her mind was the fact she was almost done. She’d be in New York in a week. Once there, she could review what she had with Frank. Hopefully, she could hold it together until then.

~~~

The next few days were similar. Although the technical challenges of underwater photography were now manageable, frustration continued to rule. There was only so much she and Daniel could do to ensure an ethical approach to any relics found. They’d considered telling Tom about Hennesey’s secret grab, but in the end, decided it was too risky to trust him. Tom was new to the field, and an unknown, regarding his morals. Their only recourse was to monitor Hennesey, Raul or Jerry as best they could, but sometimes even that wasn’t possible. Hennesey kept changing the schedule, a clever way to thwart them. Suited up, they’d discover too late they were diving with Alfredo and Patrick instead, the ones they had no worries about.

At the end of one grueling day, she was about to go down the steps to the galley to get her bag, when Daniel and Hennesey’s laughter from below took her by surprise. She snuck a peek at the two of them sitting around the table, acting as if they were old friends.

She backed up the stairs. While doing so, she caught snippets of their conversation.

“I wouldn’t be concerned,” said Daniel. “She’s … and I’ll…” Catherine couldn’t catch everything he was saying.

And then, Hennesey in a low voice, “I’m counting on …”

Then, Daniel saying, “… it’s not like Catherine …”

She wished she could make out the conversation, to hang around any longer would risk getting caught. She left as quietly as she had come.

As she stood in the bow, she struggled with what she’d witnessed. Daniel seemed way too comfortable with Hennesey. And yet he was the one who had testified against the old salvager at one time. Had something changed? And what did Hennesey mean when he said,
I’m counting on …?
Odd. What was he counting on Daniel for?

She stayed on deck while Olaf and Mark tied up the boat. The traffic in the marina was slow. Most of the fishermen in Killybegs had called it a day. Not being able to put it off any longer, she went down to the galley to get her bag. This time, Daniel was alone, pouring over some documents on the table.

He looked up when she went by and smiled. “Can’t believe you’re going home soon.”

“Yeah.” They locked eyes for a moment. Then he lowered his head again over his papers. He didn’t say anything more; neither did she. Had she been taken advantage of? When she’d revealed the photos to Daniel, had he passed the information on to Hennesey? Was Daniel in on whatever Hennesey was trying to get away with? Her world had turned upside down.

~~~

When Catherine opened the front door of the B & B, she found Doreen in the living room reading a book. Much as she liked her hostess, the last thing she wanted to do was make small talk. Not after the day she had.

As Catherine tiptoed to the stairs, Doreen looked up and said, “A package came for you today. It’s on the hallway table.”

“Thanks. You were reading and I didn’t want to disturb you.”

“No problem. Oh, a man called. He said his name was Richard and you had his number. He said to call when you got in.”

“When did he phone?”

Doreen looked at the clock on the mantle. “About a half hour ago.”

Her panic rose when she remembered she’d forgotten to turn her cell phone on. Maybe he’d tried a number of times to get her. “Well, I’m going to head up. Tired.”

“Good night.”

Catherine was on the first step, when Doreen called out. “Don’t forget your package.”

“Right.” Catherine returned to the hallway to pick it up. Anxious to phone Richard, she only glanced at the return label on the way up the stairs. It was from that out of print books website. With everything that’d happened in the last few days and the spirit nowhere to be seen, she’d forgotten about her order
.

As soon as she got in the door of her room, she put the parcel on the night table and called Richard. She’d talked to Alex the day before, but with kids anything could happen.

He answered on the third ring. “Hi, Catherine. We were almost out the door, so glad you caught us. We’re going into the city to see a revival of Oklahoma.”

His tone was calm.
Thank God.
Relaxing, she sat down on the bed and said, “Wish I was there to see it with you guys.”

“Wish you were, too.” There was a yearning in his voice she hadn’t heard in awhile. “You phoned. Is there anything urgent?”

“No. Alex wanted to talk to you. She’s counting the days ‘till you come home. On the calendar, there’s a big star marking the day you return.”

“That’s sweet.”
Home.
It sounded good right now
.
She wanted to say,
I’m scared, Richard. I think I’ve bitten off more than I can handle.
But how could he help, thousands of mile away? Instead, she swallowed and said, “Can I talk to Alex?”

While she waited for Alex to come to the phone, Catherine closed her eyes and pictured her little girl. It wasn’t long now.

“Hi Mama. Five more days and I’m going to see you.”

“I can’t wait, too. I’m so excited I’m jumping up and down. Oh-oh. I just hit my head on the ceiling and now I have a big bump.”

Alex laughed. “Well, don’t jump so high next time. Sorry, I have to go.”

“Okay, have fun.” When Catherine hung up, she held on to her phone for a few moments, as if Alex was still there. “Damn it!” She stretched out on her bed and buried her head in her pillow. That was too short of a call. With how she was feeling on the boat these days, she wished she was back on her farm, out in the fields with the smell of lavender for comfort. Life was simple there, and safe.

~~~

She had trouble falling asleep. She kept thinking of Daniel with Hennesey. Rather than tossing, she put the light on. She thought of digging out the pocket book from her suitcase, the one she`d brought and hadn’t read. It was then she noticed the package on the night table. She’d forgotten to open it. Propping up two pillows for her back, she sat up in bed and unwrapped the parcel, revealing the book,
The Curse of the Stones 
by Liam Athol. Its cover was striking—a colored aerial photo of a makeshift altar on top of a hill overlooking the sea.

The author began by mentioning he’d become a Roman Catholic priest partly to atone for the sins of his family. He then went on and shared a bit of his childhood.