A CRY FROM THE DEEP (7 page)

BOOK: A CRY FROM THE DEEP
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Catherine smiled back. “Frank was there at the beginning of my career. And at the end.”

A family walked by, arguing about where they were going to go next. Frank waited until the family had moved on before saying, “Catherine was doing an assignment for me nine years ago. She was out in the Mediterranean, thirty fathoms deep, and got caught in a crevice. Her hose was severed, she nearly drowned. It was a freak accident.”

“It was more than an accident,” said, Catherine, feeling her body tense up.

Daniel’s eyes were sympathetic. “I’ve had some close calls myself.”

“There are more precautions now,” said Frank, clearing his throat. “You’d buddy with Daniel, and with a decent crew, you’d be in good hands.”

Daniel sat down on the bench beside her, so close that she couldn’t help but catch a whiff of his lime scent. It was enough to stir her desire once more, and she squeezed her thighs to suppress it. Silently reprimanding herself for being so weak, she placed her bag between them hoping he wouldn’t notice her move. She also told herself that men who used scent could be full of themselves.

“I’ve worked with divers who’ve lost their nerve. A few lessons and they’re back to form. I can get you up to speed, if you’re willing to give it a go.”

“That’s very generous of you.”

He smiled broadly. “A one-time offer. It expires at midnight, like Cinderella’s ball gown.”

She couldn’t help but laugh. Stealing a look at Frank, she could see him beaming. He’d known that meeting Daniel would weaken her resolve. The man inspired confidence, and with his help, maybe she could conquer her fears. “You guys are making this hard...” She said to Frank, “You mentioned Hennesey hopes to find a ship as rich as the
Atocha
. Would he be able to keep any Spanish treasure he finds? I read the Government of Ireland can lay claim to any shipwrecks fifty meters from shore.”

“I think he’s hoping the ship he salvages will be outside Ireland’s limits. Does your question mean you’re interested?”

“I’m working on it.”

Daniel regarded her as if there were only the two of them in the room. “Like I said, the offer expires at midnight.”

She looked away, hiding her jelly-like feelings. She’d been fooled before. Attraction was like icing. It wasn’t enough to make a cake delicious.

A crowd of boisterous students entered the main hall. Daniel said, “Let’s go upstairs. It’ll be quieter.”

 

~~~

 

The office on the upper level had a high ceiling and wide windows overlooking Central Park. It was a welcome change from the throngs on the main floor.

When they were seated at a round table, Daniel asked Frank, “What does Hennesey understand about your proposal?”

“He knows we want to do a feature on his next expedition, but that’s about all.”

“Interesting. What makes you so sure he’ll have me along?”

“With your expertise in maritime history, you’ll be able to help with any location problems and with the identification of any Spanish artifacts he might find. He also needs our funding, so he’ll go along with any recommendations I make.”

Daniel guffawed. “Don’t be so sure about that. I didn’t exactly do him any favors when I testified against him in court last year.”

Catherine was stunned to learn it was Daniel who’d succeeded in getting Hennesey to finally pay for some of his crimes. She’d read about the case in a maritime news journal. The fine for illegally plundering a site off the shore of Spain had been hefty. It had looked as if Hennesey was going to be stopped once and for all, but in the end, his lawyer found a loophole and Hennesey’s fine was reduced significantly.

Daniel stared at Frank. “Did you tell her about Columbia?’

Frank shot Daniel a look, shaking his head. Obviously, Daniel had revealed more than he should have.

Catherine’s brow tensed. “What about Columbia?”

Frank sighed. “There’s one thing I didn’t tell you.”

“Oh, great. He’s a drug smuggler, too?”

Daniel didn’t smile. “Hennesey is still battling the Columbian government over another ship he found loaded with loot. He flew the treasures home before the authorities got wind of his discovery. Where they’re hidden, no one knows.”

She thought about it for a moment. “They’re probably in a number of private collections by now. What proof do you have that he did any of this?”

Frank shifted in his chair. “One of the divers working with him confessed to the authorities, but unfortunately there was no recording and on top of that, he’s since died of a heart attack.”

“How convenient,” said Catherine.

Daniel nodded. “You might say that.”

She arched her eyebrows. “What about the other divers that were with him?”

Frank snorted. “There were no other witnesses, at least none that were willing to testify. But based on what they suspect, the Columbian government is going ahead anyway. The way it looks, I’m afraid our pirate is going to win this case, too.”

“Why didn’t you tell me any of this before?”

Frank looked contrite as he said, “I was afraid you wouldn’t have come if you knew.”

“So why tell me now?”

Daniel exchanged glances with Frank before saying, “You need to know what you’re up against.”

Catherine looked at both men. “Hennesey won’t want any photos or videos that could incriminate him, so he’s not going to be sloppy.”

“You’re right,” said Daniel. “It could be dangerous. He could have a number of unscrupulous criminals standing by, waiting for any gold antiquity he uncovers.”

Catherine’s brow furrowed. “I don’t get it. If you know all this, why are you going along with this dive?”

“Good question,” said Frank, folding his arms. “With or without coverage, Hennesey would be out there plundering. At least this way, we’d have a chance of exposing him.”

Daniel added, “With our involvement, there’s at least a small chance we could keep him on an honest path. Either way, you’ll get some sensational photos, Frank will get his story, and I’ll have assurance history will be preserved.”  

Catherine leaned forward. “But if we go along with this, I mean, work alongside of him, aren’t we being complicit in any crime he commits?”

“It’s a slippery slope,” said Daniel. “All we can do is hope it won’t come to any criminal proceedings where we’d have to testify. Not that I’d be afraid to. I’ve done it before. But if I’m right, and there are some creeps waiting in the wings, it could be daunting coming up against high-paid lawyers who know all the angles. I only hope Frank’s wrong and Hennesey is above board for once in his life.”

She frowned. “So the bottom line is you’re there to make him look good and I’m there to give him
National Geographic
’s seal of approval. Lovely.”

“It’s not how I’d phrase it,” said Daniel, “but it’s probably what Hennesey thinks. He likes the publicity we can bring to the game, and publicity brings buyers, crooked or not.”

“Jesus, Frank. You should’ve told me.”

“I know.” He looked sheepish, but added, “How about it, Catherine?”

A ping-pong match between
yes
and
no
was going on in her head. She hesitated and then said, “When is Hennesey scheduled to go?”

“In a couple of months.”

Could she be ready by then? There was no guarantee about her personal safety, but she could at least rely on these two men for support. Frank was the father she’d always wanted. And Daniel, well, there was something about the way his black hair curled at the nape of his neck that made her want to run her fingers through it.

She exhaled deeply. “When do we start?”

 

 

 

 

 

 

SIX

 

Daniel had Catherine on his mind as he walked across the vast lawn of the Hampton estate towards the party tents set up for the charity fundraiser. She wasn’t what he’d expected. He’d found her nice enough but the idea of buddying with someone who could panic at any moment was bad news for any diver. Still, he reminded himself he’d worked with other divers who’d dealt with near tragedies. Maybe she could come through after some practice dives.

He scanned the well-heeled crowd ahead but couldn’t see Sean. She was probably angry with him for being late. And then he spied her—a cool blonde, the kind he would’ve avoided in the past. She stood behind a white wooden arch that had
Kissing Booth
written on top of it in large red letters. Watching her set up, he admired her form. In a red, figure-clinging sheath dress, she was a knockout—tall and slender with ample breasts. In six months, they’d be married. He thought he loved her, but then why did he find so many things that she did so irritating? Like what she was doing at the moment. It had been her idea to sell kisses for charity.

When she noticed him, she waved and puckered her lips. There were a couple of guys already lined up, and for fifty dollars, Sean wasn’t about to disappoint. Her low-cut neckline exposed her cleavage, and when she kissed the guy Daniel recognized as captain of the local polo team, she pressed against his chest and stayed there longer than necessary.

He waited until she was finished. After the polo guy left, he said, “You were liking that a little too much.”

She giggled. “Can’t blame a girl. Now that I’m out of circulation…”

“Doesn’t seem to be holding you back.”

“Don’t tell me you’re jealous?”

She responded with such gleeful abandon that Daniel instinctively knew she was playing him. He tried to shrug it off. Perhaps he was jealous. He’d been drunk at the time he proposed, but he’d had his eye on her for awhile. She did excite him and as far as being a desirable catch, she had it in spades. Looks, money, and intelligence. He didn’t think he could do any better.

Bart, another jock, was next in line. “Hey, Daniel! Just because you’re engaged to her, doesn’t mean you can skip the queue.”

“Right.” Daniel said to Sean, “I’ll catch up with you later.” As he left, Bart stepped forward and bussed Sean. Daniel didn’t even look back. Instead, he kept walking past other booths, one for darts and another for raffle tickets to win a vintage green Jaguar.

When he passed yet another booth, a woman with a Slavic accent called out, “Meester, would you like fortune?”

Daniel turned in her direction. A heavy-set fortune teller in a flowing, flower-printed skirt was standing in front of a table advertising tarot card readings. She crooked her finger at him and said, “Yes, you.”

“No thanks.”

“Go for it, Daniel.” Someone punched him lightly on the shoulder. “Can’t be chicken shit all your life.” Daniel turned to see his old friend, Brian, with his wife Marjorie. Brian had been a classmate of Daniel’s at the University of Miami. He was now an environmental engineer for the state of New Jersey. Sean had managed to get both Brian and his wife involved with fund-raising.

“I don’t see you lining up,” Daniel said with a smirk on his face.

Marjorie said, “C’mon Daniel. It’s only fifty bucks. It’s for a good cause.”

“I know,” he said, reluctantly. The New York Philharmonic was in trouble again. With one conductor after the other quitting, they were losing their audience.

The woman with the Eastern European accent shouted, “Come, I tell you your life.”

Daniel frowned. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

Brian turned to Marjorie. “The Catholic nuns spooked him when he was a kid. Anything paranormal, and Daniel flips out.”

Daniel wasn’t amused. Brian had always been a troublemaker. “He’s exaggerating.”

“Yeah?” Brian looked incredulous. “What about that time when we stayed at the place on the point? You were pretty freaked out when we went through that graveyard at night—”

“We were fourteen at the time.”

“Fourteen? I don’t—”

“Sixteen, tops. We were kids.”

“So, I tell fortune?” Her hands on her hips, the tarot card reader beckoned again.

Marjorie steered him to the chair by the psychic. “It won’t hurt. We’ve all done it.”

“I haven’t,” he said, sitting down.

“Then there’s always the first time.”

Daniel reluctantly took out his money clip and put two twenties and a ten on the table. The psychic unwrapped the thin black cloth covering the tarot cards and shuffled them a few times. “Please, cut the deck. Then put in three piles.”

Daniel had always been suspicious of fortune-tellers. As a man of science, he had no patience for anything that couldn’t easily be explained by some mathematical formula or rational thought. He couldn’t understand how anybody could be taken in by these phonies, but he played along, if only to appease Marjorie. She was invaluable as a fund-raiser, and he didn’t want to appear obstinate or cheap.

After he combined the three piles as instructed, the psychic spread the cards in a cross formation. Among them were the Six of Swords, the Fool, and the Lovers card. Her head was bent over the spread as she studied them, one at a time. 

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