by Lisa Kessler
Heather sighed. “He’s not coming through clearly.” Her gaze went distant again as she whispered, “Two identical boxes. Always on the move.” She rubbed her forehead. “I lost him.” She lifted her gaze. “Sorry, David. I’ll let you know if I connect with him later.”
He leaned back on the couch, his mind chewing on the new information. “At least they haven’t taken a drink.”
Her ice-blue eyes locked on his. “Be careful tonight.”
David nodded, his mind already working through possible scenarios for the meeting. “I’m always careful.”
She shook her head as she got to her feet. “Those herbs you keep in your pocket won’t heal you forever.”
He went to the door. “Maybe not, but they’ll get me through tonight.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Don’t forget your invoice.”
On the way back to his car, he checked his email on his phone, scanning the senders for Kingsley. Nothing. Agent Bale frowned.
Next problem. What was the historian hiding?
…
Charlotte left the newspaper archives convinced that Keegan must’ve been Rachel Darby’s anonymous benefactor. Most girls didn’t get to attend college back then, even when they came from good families.
An orphan girl attending Wesleyan Female College, as it was known in the 1800s, was definitely a news story, and the mystery of her tuition money made the article even more enticing.
But the story itself didn’t give her much to go on. The girl was grateful and graduated with a liberal arts degree. There were no other mentions of Rachel Darby in the archives. Dead end.
Instead of driving to her mother’s house, she headed for River Street. Plenty of tourists filled the sidewalk along the Savannah River. After she found a parking spot, Charlotte headed toward the large sails in the distance. The Sea Dog.
She nearly turned back twice, but the concern in her mother’s voice pushed her onward. It seemed impossible, but what if her poking around to help Agent Bale really did lead the Serpent Society to her door? She didn’t have children or a spouse, and no real friends to speak of.
Her only weak spot would be her mother.
Crazy. Her mom probably just needed money for the electric bill again and couldn’t take a rain check on dinner for fear they’d turn off her power.
But she could’ve asked for money over the phone.
“Dr. Sinclair?”
She flinched, freezing as she looked up at the ship. “Colton?”
“Aye!” he shouted from the deck. “What are you doing here?”
“Can I come on board?” Asking to come on board a ship was something she’d never imagined she’d say. Acid bubbled in her stomach.
“Come on up.” He crossed to the opening on the deck and removed the chain across the gangplank.
Charlotte forced herself to move. When she’d visited before, it had been dark, and Keegan had hustled her aboard with his gun drawn. No time to think and no light to see the water below.
After a couple of tentative steps, Colton took her hand and helped her onto the deck. “Welcome aboard.”
“Thanks.” She glanced around and back up to Colton. “Any idea where I can find Keegan?”
He raised a brow. “You don’t have his number? I thought you two were—”
“No. We didn’t exchange numbers.”
Colton patted his pockets and cursed under his breath. “Damn phone. Bane of this era.”
Another man came up the stairs from the lower deck. He was taller than Charlotte but a couple of inches shorter than Colton. His dark hair was slicked back and a little long, just past his collar.
His brown eyes met hers, and a smile curved his lips as he approached. “You must be our historian.” He offered his hand.
She shook it slowly, cataloging his features. “You’re part of the Sea Dog crew?”
“John Smyth at your service.” He tipped his head.
Her pulse raced. This was the boatswain. In her research, the Sea Dog had no trouble recruiting crew because their boatswain had a reputation for honesty among pirates. He was known for being fair and making sure every man got his cut from every boon.
She released his hand. “Sorry. I’ve spent my life researching the privateers in this area. Meeting you in person is…amazing.”
He chuckled, then looked at Colton. “I’ll help the historian so you can finish tying the ship down for the night and get home.”
“Thanks, John.” Colton focused on Charlotte. “Good to see you again.”
He walked away, and she turned to John. “I need Keegan’s phone number.”
He smiled but didn’t reach for his cell phone. “What would you like to know about our ship’s pilot?”
She raised a brow. “I just need to call him.”
“You like learning about the past, right?” John’s expression sobered. “I was hoping you might have done some digging into the past today.”
She raised a brow. “Into what exactly? My part in this is helping to find the Grail.”
“All well and good, but my mate Keegan has taken a shine to you, and that could be dangerous for him. It’s my job to look after the crew.”
Charlotte rested a fist on her hip. “Are you saying I’m a danger to Keegan?”
“No.” He dug his hand into his pocket and pulled out his phone. “But he’s a mite older than you, lass, and if we get that cup, he’s likely to continue sailing the seas long after you’re gone.” His gaze locked on hers. “And that can be dangerous.”
Charlotte groaned, dropping her hand to her side. “I don’t have time for riddles. Either tell me to back off or give me his number. I need to talk to him.”
John scrolled through his phone. “We almost lost our pilot to madness once. I can’t let that happen again.”
Charlotte frowned. What was with this guy? Then his comment about digging into the past clicked. “Does this have to do with Rachel Darby?”
His head snapped up. “You did get the records.”
“Yeah, a courier left them on my desk this morning.” Charlotte crossed her arms. “Mind telling me what the hell is going on?”
John sighed. “I sent the courier from my office. Keegan told me you’re intelligent. I figured you would find what you needed to, and I’ll get the file back to the diocese before they ever realize it was gone.”
Her head was spinning, desperate for some logical explanation. “The diocese doesn’t allow anyone to see the records unless the request is from one of the children who lived there.”
“That’s why I stole them, lass.” He winked. “We’re still pirates, remember?”
Charlotte rubbed her forehead. “Why steal the records and give them to me? You obviously know where I work. You could’ve just come in and told me about the girl from Keegan’s past.”
“I made a promise to him that I would never speak her name again, and my word is my bond.”
“Was Rachel Darby his daughter?”
“No.” John shook his head. “But he loved her and her mother. When yellow fever took her mother, Samuel went mad with grief. Imagine wanting to die, to end the pain, and having no means to do it.” John stared out at the water. “Decades went by before his head cleared.”
“If immortality is such torture, why is he so eager to take another sip from the cup?”
“Because he is loyal to his crew to a fault.” John cleared his throat. “I wanted you to understand why I need you to stay away from him. Love destroyed him once. He wouldn’t survive again.”
She stared into the twilight sky. This was why he freaked out after they had sex. That’s all it could be for him. Just sex. No emotional attachments. Anything more risked his sanity.
Charlotte focused on John again. “Skye told me Colton’s not going to drink this time. He’ll age, and someday, he’ll die.”
John nodded. “And our pilot is already grieving him like he’s six feet under.” He sighed. “Please, lass. Finish your work and walk away.”
; “I’m not in love with Keegan.” She crossed her arms.
His knowing gaze bore into her. “It’s not you I’m worried about.”
Chapter Eleven
Keegan showered and dressed in all black. He slid his Glock into the shoulder holster and his dagger into the sheath at his calf. He glanced at the clock. Four hours until his rendezvous with Agent Bale. The agent had an ace up his sleeve, some kind of informant inside the abandoned warehouse where Keegan was meeting the fanatics about purchasing the Grail.
But Keegan planned to scout the building on his own first. Now that he and his crew weren’t sure they could count on healing immediately, he wasn’t going to risk his life blindly.
His phone lit up with a text.
It’s Char. Please call me back.
He stared at the message. Shit. He should ignore it. The longer he spent with her, the more he wanted. The cycle led to an abyss he had no desire to stare into.
What if she was in danger?
He cursed under his breath and pressed the number to call. “Char?”
“Hey, Keegan. Sorry. I didn’t know who else to try.”
He frowned. “Are you safe?”
“I’m fine. It’s my mom. Something’s off. I don’t want to go alone, but…” She paused. “Honestly, I don’t have anyone else to take with me.”
His chest warmed. While his head screamed to run, his heart told it to shut the fuck up. “I’ll go. Where are you?”
“Parked in front of your place.”
His eyes widened as he crossed to the window. “How did you—”
“John. I owe him a big favor.” She looked up at his window from her car. “I don’t want to talk about it. Can you come with me? Now?”
“On my way down.” He stuffed his phone in his pocket and grabbed a denim jacket to cover his weapons.
Once he was in the car, Char pulled into traffic without a word. He glanced her way, fastening the seat belt. “What has you so desperate you’re willing to take a pirate to meet your mum?”
Her lips twitched. The first hint of a smile. “She’ll never know you’re a pirate.”
“Fair enough.” He stared out the windshield, sobering. “Why do you think she’s in danger?”
Char sighed. “We need to set some ground rules.”
Keegan chuckled. “This is why no other friends would come with you.”
She shot a glare in his direction. “Are we even friends?”
He raised a brow. “We’ve both put our lives on the line for a common goal. If you were on my ship, I’d call you ‘mate.’”
Her expression softened, her grip easing up on the steering wheel. “I’ve also seen you naked.”
He smiled, staring out the windshield. “Makes us lovers, not mates.”
“Can we be both?”
Dangerous territory. “I wouldn’t know.”
Char made a right turn. “I’m with you there.” She cursed under her breath at the bumpy graveled drive of the Sunshine Mobile Home Park. “This damn place keeps promising they’ll pave the driveway, but they never do.”
He couldn’t help but admire the way her breasts bounced as she plowed through the potholes. Maybe the road wasn’t all bad.
He forced his brain to engage. “You grew up here?”
Her grip tightened on the wheel. “I got out the second I could.” She pulled into a space marked by a sizable rock with Visitor painted in red. She killed the engine, her gaze meeting his. “I don’t mean to be a bitch. This isn’t a happy place for me.”
“Then I’m glad you didn’t come here alone.”
She reached out, taking his hand, and his mutinous heart leaped into his throat as her dark eyes searched his. He had no idea what he was about to walk into. Char was like a slippery fish he couldn’t quite grasp.
He should stop trying.
Her voice was barely a whisper. “Thank you for being here. I just need to be sure she’s all right. If someone in a serpent ring found out I was helping Agent Bale, she’s the only leverage against me.”
“No need for thanks, lass.” He lifted her hand to his lips. “Promise me a kiss later and we’ll be even.”
A sexy smile curved her mouth. “You drive a hard bargain.”
He released her hand with a grin. “Half of me was hoping you’d make me steal it.”
Her eyes sparked. “Who says I won’t?” She got out before he could reply.
Damn, he enjoyed her company. Too much.
He followed her to her mother’s trailer, her brow furrowing as they got closer. He caught her arm, holding her back as he pointed to a black town car with tinted windows. It was parked beside a faded blue VW Bug with a license plate frame that read, Proud Mom of an UGA Graduate.
“Your mum has company. Do you recognize the car?”
“The VW is Mom’s.” Char shook her head. “I’ve never seen the black one before.”
She started for the worn stairs leading up to the door, but he didn’t let go of her hand. “Give me a second. Let’s be sure it’s not a trap.”
She swallowed and nodded.
Keegan drew his Glock and walked around the back of the mobile home. Being that her mom’s house had wheels, the windows were high, even for him, but he managed to peer inside.
A couple sat around a small dining room table, talking in hushed voices. No sign of weapons or anyone else. He couldn’t make out what they were saying, but the way they clenched hands across the table, their nerves were palpable.
He glanced down at Char. “Could your mum be introducing you to a new bloke in her life?”
“No.” Char’s eyes widened. “No way. My mom doesn’t date.”
He shook his head, holstering his gun. “She’s holding a man’s hands right now, nervously waiting for her daughter to arrive.”
“You have got to be kidding me.” Char grabbed Keegan’s arm, practically dragging him to the door. She jogged up the steps and knocked.
Keegan stood on the step below her as the door opened.
“Magpie!” Her mother embraced her tight, but her gaze locked on Keegan’s. She pulled back with a hopeful smile. “And who is this with you?”
Char turned on the small porch, meeting his eyes. “This is Keegan. He’s the lead singer of The Scallywags.”
Her mother took his hand in both of hers. “Good to meet you. I’m Kelly. Charlotte didn’t tell me she was bringing a guest.” She sobered as she focused on her daughter. “I should have told you about this over the phone, but I thought we should talk in person.” Color flushed her cheeks. “This probably isn’t a good time for guests.”
Char took his hand, her fingers lacing with his. “Keegan is my boyfriend, Mom. We don’t have any secrets.”
The corners of Keegan’s mouth twitched. His historian was a terrible liar. He froze for a second. His? Before he could lose his cool, Kelly took a step back to allow them to pass into the mobile home.
She closed the door behind them. “I’m not sure how to tell you this, Charlotte, but please know, every choice we made was to protect you. It was the only way.”
“We?” Char frowned. “What the hell are you talking about?”
Keegan glanced around for the man he’d seen through the window, but there was no sign of him. Char’s words echoed through his mind. Something was definitely “off.”
He wanted to investigate, but he also didn’t want to set off a panic. “Excuse me, Kelly. Is there a restroom I could use?”
“Yes. It’s down the—”
As he suspected, the hidden male came out from the hallway. Keegan instinctively moved toward Char.
The color drained from Char’s face in an instant. “Daddy?” Her tone strangled on a sob, dropping to a whisper. “But you’re…”
Her words trailed off as her eyes fluttered.
Keegan readied to catch her, but Char didn’t crumple like the corseted ladies of his day. Instead, her hands clenched into tight fists as she spun around toward her mother. “You lied to me.
You both lied to me.”
Her voice wobbled, taking on a strident tone through clenched teeth. “How could telling your daughter her father was driving drunk and plunged to his death in the river possibly be protecting me?”
Kelly gaped, glancing at the man in the hallway. Keegan stared at Char’s father. His eyes were red, the stench of alcohol surrounded him, and his hands carried the telltale tremor of a man who would sell his soul to the devil for one more finger of rum.
Her father took a tentative step forward. “I’m sorry, Charlotte. If there was any other way—”
“No.” Char put her hand up, silencing him. “I don’t want to know how you justified lying to me for twenty years. If any of it was true, you wouldn’t be standing here right now.”
Her father rubbed his forehead, his British accent barely slurred, a testament to his ability as a functioning alcoholic. “I have so much to tell you and no time to do it.”
“Save your breath. I don’t want to hear it.”
Her father’s gaze locked on Char’s face. “I know you’re working with Agent Bale.” His eyes flicked up to Keegan. “And you and your crew tasted the Lord’s cup.” He pointed to the table. “You’re angry, and you’ve got every right to be, but you’ll have to do it later. Right now, your life is on the line. Sit down and let’s get started.”
Char grudgingly took a seat at the table, leaving Keegan standing with her father.
Her father turned and offered his hand. “Keegan, I’m Kingsley, Kingsley Pratt, and this is your chance to walk away. What I’m about to tell you tonight could get you killed.”
Keegan pulled out a chair beside Char without hesitation. “Such is a pirate’s life.”
…
Charlotte wanted to vomit, scream, and cry. All at once. Her head was going to explode. But she’d have to hold it together. Right now, her life was on the line.
She stared at her father as he talked about his job with Agent Bale’s Department 13. He was older than in her memories, like he’d suddenly flashed forward twenty years. The lines were deeper around his mouth and eyes. They were still red and puffy. She didn’t have to be close to him to know his breath reeked of breath mints mixed with the sweet scent of whiskey. Too much whiskey. No mint could overpower it completely.
