by Kimber Davis
He needed to remember that when they were out there searching. If he thought she was in this for the money only then he would lead her astray, keep her from finding the treasure. If he thought she was doing it to honor Tuck’s memory then he would do his best to help her.
Of course that was supposing there was a treasure. There was always a big part of him that thought Tuck had been blowing smoke when he’d talked about finding the chest containing jewels “just like those in the pirate stories.”
If he had it, why hadn’t he used it? Not that he needed the money. The business had always done well, and Tuck had a very nice boat, which he’d been kind enough to leave to Dylan. And Tuck had never been about material possessions. He had a few things, books that he read, and then reread, and a few trinkets that he’d said had belonged to his mother. They were downstairs, in Tuck’s cabin.
Maybe he should give them to Charlene. Then he decided that he’d wait and see how things played out. If she proved that she wasn’t here just for the dough then he’d give her the jewelry, knowing it should be kept in the family. If she were here only for the money then it would stay in his possession until he decided what he should do with it.
He wished he’d kept the map, give him a chance to study it before tomorrow. The look that he’d had showed an island about a day’s journey from the Keys. There were no other instructions on it, like where to find the treasure once they’d found the island. And who was to say that this island wasn’t private, that the owners would greet them with shotguns when they put in? And, in the same vein, who was to say that the so-called treasure hadn’t already been found?
He tried to remember Tuck’s story about finding it some ten years back while he was taking a group of businessmen diving. They’d wanted something exotic, something away from the norm and they’d found the little island, and gone from there.
Tuck hadn’t told his fare that he’d found the treasure one morning when he’d gone swimming while they were sunning themselves. He’d found the chest close to shore, the wood rotten and the contents covered with slime and sand.
When the trip was over he’d gone back by himself and brought the chest up on deck. After cleaning the jewels he’d buried them on the island, he’d said, because he didn’t want to take it back with him. He’d never really given a clear reason why.
But now here Dylan was, about to go on what could possibly be a wild goose chase. He didn’t think Tuck would lie about finding the treasure, but Dylan was confused about why he’d left it on the island all these years.
Now was the time when he wished he could Tuck questions and he could answer them. His friend’s death had been sudden, and had shocked Dylan. He had told no one about the trip out to sea, where he’d shared the bottle of rum with the ocean, thinking about his business partner and the fact that his life was over.
When she’d started to describe it, chills had run up his spine. Had Tuck watched the strange ritual? Had he seen Dylan break down and cry like a baby because his father figure and friend was gone. Obviously, he had. There was no other explanation for how she could have known that. Dylan had made sure there was no another boat in the area when he’d picked his spot.
“Tuck?” No answer came to the greeting, but then again Dylan hadn’t really expected one. It would be nice, but it was not really plausible. Dylan shook his head at the thought. If it wasn’t a reasonable idea that Tuck was watching him, then how had he known about the rum?
“Damn it, Tuck, give me a break here. Answer some questions. Once we get to this island how do we find the treasure? Does X mark the spot? Or will this be some sort of scavenger hunt? Did you leave clues there? Will I need a shovel? Will I need to mark off paces? And, why did you leave it there all these years?”
Silence greeted his words and Dylan slapped his hand against wheel, then plopped himself down in a nearby chair. “Thanks a lot, Tuck, thanks a lot.”
Maybe this trip would provide him with some of the answers that he sought. And it wouldn’t be too bad, really. Charlene Tucker was a beautiful woman, curvy in all the right places. He loved a woman who wasn’t a stick figure, and she definitely wasn’t one. The fact that she hadn’t run when he’d tried to shock her made him smile.
That made her a Tucker, all right. Tuck never backed down from a fight, and it was obvious that his niece didn’t either. Even if she’d had little contact with her uncle during his lifetime she still had some of his traits, and that made her okay in Dylan’s book.
Yeah, this might turn out to be an interesting trip after all.
Chapter Two
Charlene slowly made her way toward the boat, wondering if she’d ever been up this early in her entire life. The sun was up, making the day seem warm already. As she neared the boat, sounds of U2 reached her ears. She wondered if Dylan’s neighbors were angry about his early morning musical choices, then decided there probably weren’t that many people on the boats moored nearby.
But then again maybe there were. This was Florida, after all, and some of the boats could be used by tourists who let them double as hotels; or it could be locals who lived on boats. She wondered if Dylan lived on this one, or if he’d gone home last night and come back early this morning.
She was well past his deadline for when he’d expected her, but she didn’t care. She had an excuse. Not that she would tell him about it. His taking her out was tenuous enough. If he’d known who her early morning visitor had been he’d probably scrap the whole trip.
Max Ives showing up when she’d just opened her door this morning had startled her more than just a little bit. The older man had smiled warmly, then offered her a paper cup filled with creamy coffee.
His innocent, “Going somewhere?” had made her smile. He knew damn good and well where she was going, and it was why he was there. He’d met her outside the lawyer’s office, trying to buy the map from her. She’d refused, and when she’d seen him that morning she’d half expected him to show up with goons, who would throw her to the ground and search her belongings to see if they could find the map.
It wouldn’t do them any good, though, just having the location to the island. Tuck, in his infinite wisdom, had given her two sheets of paper, one with directions to the island, the other with directions to exactly where the treasure was hidden.
She was pretty sure Max didn’t know that. Of course neither did Dylan. He would find out in good time, but Max would be left in the dark. Hopefully. Unless he tried to follow them. She remembered back to his pleasant smile from this morning. He’d offered her money for the map and she’d refused.
At first the amounts had gone up, until he was at twenty thousand dollars. When she’d refused even that his face had turned ugly and his eyes had narrowed in anger.
“Young Mr. Cray is an ass, Ms. Tucker. You can’t trust him.”
“Why should I trust you? I know nothing about you, Mr. Ives, and I know that my uncle trusted Dylan Cray.”
The anger blossomed on Ives’ face and he stalked off without even saying goodbye, something which didn’t really surprise her.
Still, she’d been cautious as she’d driven to the pier, wondering who was behind her, waiting to see what they would do to try and get the map. No violence had occurred though, which made her very happy. That didn’t mean it wouldn’t happen later, though, so it was probably best if they could get underway as soon as possible.
“You’re late.” Dylan’s reprimand broke into her musings and she smiled at him, hoping to sooth the annoyed look that was on his handsome face.
“Sorry, I overslept.”
“Hum, well, let’s go.” He offered her his hand and she took it, stepping onto the boat. “Where’s your bag?”
“Bag?” She indicated the backpack that she held. “Right here.”
“You got enough clothes and things in there for two days? At least?”
“Two days?” She hoped her voice didn’t sound as shrill as what she thought it did. “We’re not coming back tonight?”
<
br /> He snorted out a laugh, then headed toward the wheel.
“Well, are we?”
There was a clicking noise and then the motor churned to life.
“Answer me.”
“It’s doubtful,” he said, messing with the gears. “Hang on, land lubber and we’ll get underway.”
“Wait!” She wanted to tell him to give her a little more time to go back to the hotel and get some things, a few changes of clothing at the least. Her pack held her bathing suit and a towel, but nothing that would last her for two days at sea. The boat moved and she toppled, falling on the seat next to her.
His soft laugh infuriated her and she glared at him. “Go back.”
“Nope.” He was navigating slowly through the other boats, taking his sweet time about heading out to sea. “You were late already, and it’s not my fault you didn’t realize we’d be gone for more than a day. You’ll just have to make do with what you’ve got.”
“Jerk.” She tried to stand but he picked that moment to ease the throttle forward. The boat surged, even if it was just a little, and she fell back on the seat again. When he laughed this time she glared at him, which only made him laugh more.
“If the only reason you’re taking this trip is to annoy me turn back now. I can find other means of transportation.”
He was silent for a few minutes and she thought he would do exactly as she’d asked. Then he shook his head slowly. “Tuck sent you to me, so that’s the plan we’ll follow. Or did you have someone else in mind to help you?” He’s spoken the last sentence after a bit of a pause and she wondered if, somehow, he knew, that Max Ives had been to see her; that he, too, was after the treasure.
“I’m waiting,” he said when she didn’t answer. “If you’re keeping something from me you need to remember that we’re going out into the ocean, and I’m the captain. If I choose to make you ‘walk the plank’ so to speak, then that’s exactly what will happen. Either that or I’ll leave you abandoned on the island for someone else to find.
Unease swept through Charlene. She wasn’t sure if he was telling the truth, or if he was just trying to scare her. He’d definitely done the latter; making her wonder if she’d made the right decision. Yes, she was following her uncle’s will, but if this man left her stranded…no, he wouldn’t do that.
“Just drive,” she said, making herself more comfortable in the seat. “And let me know when we get there.”
* * *
Dylan glanced back at his passenger, then stifled a yawn. It was early in the afternoon and he was tired. Getting to the tiny island Tuck had pointed out wouldn’t take more than a few more hours, but he’d like to stop and take a nap.
When Tuck was alive, the two of them had shared time at the helm. Now it was just him, and standing this long, with just a few short breaks for trips to the head and the galley was not enough. They needed to stop so he could sit for a while, rest his aching back.
Charlene sat on the seat, ignoring the ocean around her. She’d been reading a book for the last few hours and Dylan had watched as she’d made her way through it, the pages moving from one side to the other.
How could anyone sit and read when they had the ocean to look at? The thought made him snort in disgust. The scenery here was absolutely beautiful, and to sit with your nose buried in a book was, to him anyway, a travesty.
“Are we there yet?” Those words made him smile. She’d spoken very little since they’d left, and he knew she was angry with him for what had happened that morning. That was just fine with him. He didn’t want to be friends with her. He just wanted to know what Tuck had left on the island, and if he needed her to do that, then so be it.
He’d kept his music loud all day, figuring that, at some point, she would express her discontent, ask him to turn it down. That would at least be an inroad to a discussion. But it hadn’t happened. She’d just kept her nose buried in the book and basically ignored him.
He slowed the boat, which made her fold up the book and finally look out at her surroundings. It was the first real movement she’d made since he’d asked her for the map not long after they’d left. It was obvious they wouldn’t get the best of friends. Too bad, since she was a very pretty woman. Her red hair gleamed in the sunlight and her green eyes sparkled when she was mad, which seemed to be quite a lot when he was around. That is when they were talking, and she wasn’t ignoring him. He watched as a look of awe came over her face; a look that quickly turned to confusion.
“Why are we stopping? I don’t see an island anywhere nearby. All I see is water.”
“Do you stop gas when you’re on a car trip?” He fought back a smile at the shocked look that took over her features.
“Are we out of gas?”
“No, we’re not. But I need a break.”
“Do we have enough gas to get to where we’re going?”
“Yes, we should.” He laughed when her mouth opened in shock.
“We should?”
“If we use more than I have we have sails that will work just fine. Relax, I don’t want to be stranded out here anymore than you do.” He cut the engine then moved toward the stairs.
“Where are you going?”
Stopping on the top rung he winked at her. “The galley. We’ve had snacks, but I need something with a bit more substance. Sandwiches? And chips? Are you hungry?”
Dylan went down the stairs without waiting for an answer. In the galley he pulled open the refrigerator and took out several packages of lunchmeat, some cheese and sandwich spread. When he heard her steps on the stairs he smiled. He waited until she stepped foot below before grabbing the bread.
“Food you get, service you don’t. You can make your own sandwich. That way you can control what goes on it.” She didn’t answer and he opened the package, taking out four slices of bread and spreading them two by two on the counter. “How is it that you’re Tuck’s niece, but you seem to know nothing about boats?”
“I haven’t seen Tuck in years.” She sat down on a chair, watching him intently. He spread mayo on the bread, then piled on meat and cheese, pressing them both together then putting them on a plate. He grabbed a bag of chips then sat in the chair opposite her.
“Your turn.” He took a healthy bite of food and watched as she made herself a sandwich. When she was done she sat down again and took a dainty bite. He polished off his first sandwich, then opened the chips.
“So, you have a map to the island. What happens once we get there?” He watched indecision pass over her face and knew that she had other instructions, ones that she wasn’t sharing with him. She was definitely not keeping him in the loop.
For the first time since meeting her he wondered if this was some sort of sham. He hadn’t called the lawyer to check her out. She could have been sent by Ives, to take her out on a charter, then scream rape or some other disgusting idea when they got back to shore. That could possibly land him in jail, ruin his business and leave everything open to the greedy Ives.
He wanted for her to answer and when she didn’t he started in on his second sandwich. He took two bites, then said around a mouthful of food, “Spill it.”
Unlike him she waited to speak until after she’d swallowed her food. “Spill what?”
“What else did Tuck give you?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He finished his second sandwich, then stood up to make another. “You expect me to believe that Tuck gave you a map to the island with no other directions? Did he just expect us to roam around until maybe, just maybe, we found wither X marks the spot?”
“How would I know what he thought? I didn’t know him that well, remember?”
Dylan finished putting together his third sandwich, then stood at the counter, staring at it. She was lying to him, and it pissed him off to no end. He waited for a few minutes, giving her the chance to say something. When she didn’t he picked up his sandwich and sat down, taking a huge bite.
They finished their mea
l in silence, and then sat there, looking at each other. Finally, after a few, long moments, he lifted his chin slightly. “Tell me what else Tuck left you.”
“He left me the map.”
“Okay, I’ll go for that. But the map included instructions as to where to go once we got to the island, didn’t it?” Her face was so expressive. She couldn’t hide the fact that he’d hit the nail on the head. Still, she didn’t tell him anything, which didn’t surprise him.
“Tell me what it said, or I’m turning back. You will have wasted a day, and then you’ll waste even more time looking for someone else to take you on your little treasure hunt.”
Indecision played over her features, and only when he stood did she say, “Fine, I’ll tell you. Sit down.”
He sat back down and crossed his arms over his chest, giving her what he hoped was a scathing look. In actuality he was enjoying himself. Being at sea was great fun, and he didn’t have any fishing charters scheduled until next week. That meant he had a few days to spare. Why not spend them with a beautiful woman. Unless that beautiful woman meant him harm, that is. If she did it was best to find out right now.
“Well?”
“The map indicates that the treasure is buried under the largest tree on the island.”
He snorted out a laugh. “Did you bring a shovel?”
“No, I figured you…”
“Would have one on the boat,” he finished for her. “Why would I have one on the boat? Why do you need a shovel at sea?
He did have one, but there was no sense telling her that. He was way too much fun playing with her now.
“For digging in the sand? Tell me you…”
“Yes, I have a shovel.” He sat forward, clasping his hands together and putting his elbows on his knees. “Has it occurred to you that this island might be huge? How are we going to decide which tree is the largest? Tuck’s been telling this treasure story for ten years. Trees grow, you know. One of them might have overtaken another and become the largest tree. Have you considered that?”
