by Scotty Cade
Dax rolled over onto his stomach and punched his pillow. He closed his eyes and immediately saw Jack standing on the bridge. He saw himself walking toward Jack, never breaking eye contact, his strawberry-blond hair reflecting the morning sun’s glow brighter than the sun itself. And when he finally got on board, Dax was literally speechless. Jack must have thought he was a complete idiot for not accepting his hand when he’d offered it for a shake. I’m a hard-ass all right, but I’m not rude. Jack’s crystal-blue eyes were like the most beautiful sapphires he’d ever seen, and that body… not the over-the-top bodybuilder type, but the naturally muscular type that signals discipline and strenuous workouts.
Jack was arrogant as hell, all right, and Dax knew all about being arrogant, but he reminded himself that that’s how he got shit done, no matter what people said about him. But at the same time, the smug and confident way Jack had interacted with him and Dona challenged him, and he sure liked a challenge. He was certain Jack was straight, and of course business was business, so he’d have to put his infatuation aside and get the job done. If he didn’t get control of himself, Jack would torment him for the entire trip, and Dax prided himself on being the tormentor. He’d need to keep his tough shell intact and keep Jack at a distance, or he would certainly be doomed.
He lay there, trying to put Jack out of his mind. He forced himself to think about how lucky he and Dona had been to stumble on the documents about the Anna Wyoming. They had been in the Library of Congress in Washington, DC, further researching the Sarah Maria and coming up empty-handed, when he’d opened one last journal, hoping it would contain some new information. But after reading the entire journal, he again came up with nothing. As he was about to close the journal, he spotted the corner of a piece of parchment paper sticking out of what appeared to be a false lining on the back cover of the journal. He gently tugged the page from its cocoon, hoping it was more information about the Sarah Maria, but lo and behold, it was not one, but two pages from a wreck called the Anna Wyoming. He remembered briefly reading about that wreck a few years back when he was trying to decide on his next expedition, but too little was known, and every attempt to find the wreck had been unsuccessful despite the exact coordinates recorded by eyewitness accounts.
The first of the two pages was actually the last page from the handwritten ship’s log, describing the ship’s direction and approximate location and that she was taking a pounding and going down in heavy winds and rough seas. The second, much to his delight, was from the chief purser’s journal detailing the contents of the purser’s safe, which included eight seven-ounce pouches of gold powder, a few pieces of jewelry, and six-thousand-one hundred-and-thirty-two dollars in cash. As a footnote to the inventory of the safe, the journal also eluded to other valuable cargo held in the cargo hold in the center of the ship’s hull.
Dax remembered his research, and by all accounts, there were no survivors. But if these records were real, someone must have survived. Dax folded the two pages slowly and slipped them into his pants pocket, then he closed the book and told Dona it was time to go. When they got outside and he was able to tell her what he’d found, she was just as surprised and elated as he was.
That had been four months ago, to the day, and they’d spent every second of that time rereading and researching every detail of the wreck. They further researched the weather conditions of that deadly night, to determine things like which way the winds were blowing and if it was low tide or high tide. The tidal conditions would tell them the direction of the current, which would in turn indicate how far from the original coordinates the ship would have drifted as it went down. The one thing they knew for certain was that the original eyewitness accounts of where the ship went down were nowhere near the location of the wreck, according to these new documents.
No detail was too small, and every bit of information played an important part in the expedition. They had again searched the Internet endlessly and exhausted every journal and newspaper article they could find. They felt like they were as prepared as they could be and were ready to get the expedition started. The most important thing now was to fly under the radar. There is a very small circle of treasure hunters, and they usually kept an eye on one another, hoping to get a scoop or stake a claim on someone else’s find.
Dax’s mind continued doing backflips. He knew the next few days would prove to be very busy, trying to get their equipment into Skagway harbor unnoticed and then eventually loaded onto the boat. Exhausted, Dax finally shut his mind off and hoped for sleep. His last thought before he drifted off was of the handsome Captain Jackson Cameron.
IN HER bedroom, Donatella lounged on the fainting couch in her favorite silk pajamas, with a copy of Out magazine on her lap and a vodka martini straight up with extra olives in her hand. She’d been trying to concentrate on the latest plans for Ellen DeGeneres and Portia de Rossi’s wedding, but her mind kept wandering back to the earlier meeting.
As soon as they’d driven up in the taxi and Dax had spotted Jack, Donatella had immediately noticed the gleam in Dax’s eyes, and it didn’t sit well with her at all. Her twin brother on an expedition was a pain in the ass at best, but he knew his stuff better than anyone she’d ever known. He seemed to be able to sense a wreck by simply floating hundreds of feet above it, and until the Sarah Maria, he’d had a hundred-percent success rate. She’d known his pride had been badly wounded when he’d failed at finding the Sarah Maria and had lost the Hunter’s Instinct. She assumed that he was probably looking for a male conquest to get his pride back in shape, but as far as she was concerned, he needed to suck it up, get over it, and get his head back in the game. They needed this purse, and didn’t have time for one of Dax’s flash-in-the-pan romances to screw things up.
In all their years of treasure hunting, she’d never had an onboard fling or brought any of her girlfriends along on an expedition. Dax, on the other hand, always said that he didn’t mix business with pleasure, but he had a very short and convenient memory. What gives him the right to carry on like a sex-hungry teenager? He’s had more onboard romances than a cruise ship gigolo. Her one consolation was that Jack wasn’t normally Dax’s type. Jack appeared to be at least thirty-five, and Dax usually liked the young, starry-eyed boys who worshipped him and hung on his every word. And if Dax hadn’t already realized that the starry-eyed-boy description clearly didn’t fit Jack in any way, shape, or form, he would, soon enough. In fact, she thought that if you took the potential of an affair away from the equation, they just might butt heads, which would create another whole set of problems.
Weighing the two evils—onboard romance or constant conflict—she thought that maybe she should encourage the romance and try to keep Dax happy as long as she could, but she didn’t know if Jack was even interested. He looked and acted pretty straight, but her gaydar was telling her otherwise. She would just wait it out and see what happened. Maybe, just once, it would all work out.
She downed the last of her martini and eyed her bed, all dressed in silk linens and awaiting her return. She’d always been considered a lipstick lesbian because she wore makeup, dresses, and high heels. She liked the term, because she really enjoyed being a woman and all the frilly things that came with it. It was such a dichotomy, because while she and Dax were on expeditions, she was as tough as the next guy, always pulling her weight and never needing any special treatment. But when she was at home, it was a totally different story. She decided before she turned in that she would draw a hot bubble bath and soak for a little while, to give the martini time to kick in before she tried to sleep.
As she soaked in the glorious lavender bubbles, she replayed the meeting with Jack in her head. She and Dax had almost blown the deal. In fact, when six o’clock came and went, she’d felt certain that Jack had decided to pass on their offer. The only option she’d had at the time was to bluff about meeting the other boat captain. It was easy enough for him to verify if she’d actually talked to him or not, but she didn’t think he’d gone
that far. In the end, it all worked out, so there was no sense worrying about it.
Tomorrow would be a very busy day for both of them. Their normal crew had taken temporary jobs while the new boat was being built, so that meant they would have to start packing all their equipment and get it ready for Skagway on their own. Their equipment was a mixture of new and old. Once the weather had cleared in Cape Horn, they’d salvaged most of the equipment from the Hunter’s Instinct and were able to save some of it, but a great deal of it was ruined and had to be replaced. New equipment always presented problems, which drove Dax crazy, and that in turn drove her crazy. So just for tonight, she would forget the issues at hand and relax, probably for the last time in a long while.
Chapter 4
THE next few days flew by very quickly for everyone. Jack’s charter group had departed as planned, and the Lindsey C was due back into port by late morning. Mac and Brad had flown in from Hiline Lake by floatplane earlier that morning, rented a truck, and headed into town to buy provisions. And last, but not least, Dax and Dona were making the two-day drive with all their gear loaded in their rental truck. If everything went as planned, everyone would meet at the dock no later than two o’clock, fuel the boat, load the gear and provisions, and cast off by first light the next morning.
Mac and Brad were the first to reach the dock, with enough provisions for two months. They had spent the better part of the last three days putting menus together, making grocery lists, and writing down everything they might need, such as batteries, flashlights, and medical supplies to complete the inventory. If the expedition ran longer than that, they would need to make a trip back to port to restock.
Mac saw the unmarked rental truck first and said, “It looks like we have company.”
“I think you’re right,” Brad said as they both turned and watched the truck pull up to the dock.
Dax and Dona got out of the truck and nervously checked out their surroundings. They slowly made their way to where Mac and Brad were sitting and had started introducing themselves to one another when they saw the Lindsey C enter the harbor. So far so good, Dona thought.
Jack docked, settled the bill with his charter, and said his good-byes. He walked over to where his crew was standing, hugged Mac and Brad, and shook hands with Dona. He looked at Dax; this time Dax was the first to offer his hand, and Jack accepted it. They all looked at each other with crooked smiles and an unspoken sense of excitement.
Dona finally said, “Let’s get moving, gentlemen, we don’t have all day.”
Everyone took a hand in loading the boat while Mac met the fuel truck he had requested earlier that day. When the boat’s main tanks were full, he moved aft to the reserve tanks and filled them as well. It took four hours to get the boat fueled, loaded with provisions, and ready to depart.
“Do you guys want to leave tonight?” Jack asked. “Or would you rather wait until first light?”
They had a lot to discuss, so they decided to wait until the morning. “Let’s sit down and discuss the expedition over a cocktail,” Dona suggested.
“Perfect,” Brad said.
Everyone settled in the salon and started making small talk. Brad and Mac seemed to hit it off with Dax right away.
He’s not such a bad guy, Mac thought. Maybe his reputation is all hype. Time will tell.
Jack and Dona were pleasant to one another—a little reserved, but cordial. Unfortunately, Jack and Dax were a completely different story. Both men seemed to eye one another from the minute Jack docked the boat. Jack took every opportunity to sneak a peek at Dax and Dax did the same with Jack. Even while everyone was conversing, they seemed to keep their distance and occasionally glare at each other. Jack couldn’t figure out why Dax held his attention or why Dax seemed to be keeping an eye on him as well. The guy runs hot and cold, Jack thought. One minute he’s shaking my hand and the next he’s glaring at me.
Because they had so much to talk about before they pulled away from the dock the next morning, they all pitched in and made spaghetti, garlic bread, and a salad and decided to have a working dinner. Dax spoke first to explain the mission.
“On the afternoon of February 5th, 1898,” he said, “the Anna Wyoming entered the Lynn Canal, heading for Skagway from an unknown destination with an unknown number of passengers. The Lynn Canal is not really a canal, but more of an inlet that runs ninety miles from the inlets of the Chilkat River south to Chatham Straight and Stephens Passage. The most reliable reports put the number of passengers between twenty-five and forty, although accounts written years later inflate that figure to as many as one hundred fifty. It was said that most of the passengers were transporting large amounts of gold, but until now, that was just a theory. Within a few hours, a heavy wind developed from the north. Various observers on land estimated the winds at fifty to eighty miles per hour, with the higher figures more common. I’m sure Jack can speak to this more thoroughly than I can, but I’m told that during a northerly blow, the mountains alongside the Lynn Canal form a long tunnel that can substantially increase the force of the wind.”
Jack nodded his head in agreement.
Dax continued. “Sometime during the night, the southbound steamer struck an uncharted, submerged pinnacle a few hundred yards north of Eldred Rock. Newspaper accounts report a flash seen from the shore some eight miles away. These reports may not be reliable, but they did fuel speculation about the nature of the wreck. According to official accounts, no one survived the wreck. Given the high winds and waves, the steep and sharp outcropping of nearby Eldred Rock, and the icy weather, survival would have been a miracle. Despite these facts, rumors and circumstantial evidence have given rise to a popular theory that the vessel was wrecked on purpose as a cover-up for an attempt to steal the large amounts of gold hidden on board. If true, this would make the wreck of the Anna Wyoming the greatest mass murder in Alaskan history.”
Everyone was on the edge of their seat, especially Brad and Mac. They wanted an adventure, and by God, an adventure was what they were getting. Brad couldn’t contain himself any longer. “I’m so excited, I think I’m peeing down both legs,” he said with a grin. That broke the ice, and everyone, including Dax, had to chuckle at that. Mac nudged and shushed him and motioned for Dax to continue.
He next explained that they would start the search at the actual coordinates the captain had recorded just before the ship went down, which were very different from the eyewitness accounts, and work their way further south from there. It would be endless days of crawling along at idle speeds up and down, back and forth along imaginary grids, stopping only to mark a potential spot for a reconnaissance dive. He handed Jack the general coordinates and asked him to chart the imaginary grid and commit to navigating it as closely as possible. This would allow the sonar to do its job and cover every inch of the target area.
Dona spoke next. They would all work together during the day, but at night they would work four-hour shifts to make sure every station was covered. She began to outline their responsibilities. Since she and Dax had the most experience identifying structures that would indicate a possible wreck site, they would share responsibility for monitoring the sonar equipment. Jack, along with Dax and Dona, were the most-trained divers, so they would share responsibility for reconnaissance dives. Since Brad and Mac were certified divers, after their crew responsibilities they would be in charge of maintaining the dive equipment and assisting on dives when needed. Mac, being a pilot, would also share responsibility for captaining the boat when Jack was taking his four-hour break, and Brad would act as a floater wherever he was needed.
By the time dinner was over, everyone knew their role and felt energized to be part of the expedition—everyone except Jack. He knew he was being petty and that this was Dax’s expedition, but he wasn’t happy that Dax was running the show on his boat. He decided that he would roll with it for now, but if Dax continued to treat him like crew on his own boat, he would put his foot down.
After dinner and brief
ing, everyone helped clean the galley and talked about turning in early. Jack took the lead and retired to his master cabin. Mac and Brad took the V-berth, and Dax and Dona each had their own cabin next to one another. They would use the fourth crew berth as home base, and set up all the equipment in the smaller cabin.
Jack sat at the tiny desk in his cabin, toed off his deck shoes, and for the next thirty minutes listened to the comings and goings of everyone getting settled in their cabins. Eventually, the crew settled down, and all he heard were the gentle waves lapping along the hull and the slight whistle of the breeze through his cabin porthole.
He started to review the navigational charts and the coordinates Dax had given him, and he found his mind wandering. Dax Powers, what an ass. The man sure has a lot of nerve. Yeah, he’d chartered my boat, but he hasn’t spent a penny. Mac and Brad and I are sharing the cost of fuel and provisions, and if we find nothing, together we’ll be out half the expenses. Maybe I was too hasty and should have passed on this charter.
But then a gleam entered his eye. On the other hand, what if we do find the wreck, and what if there is ten million dollars worth of gold on board? I’ll have a couple million dollars in my pocket after I cover expenses and pay Mac and Brad. I can certainly live with that.
He stared at the charts, not really paying attention. He just couldn’t stop thinking about Dax and Dona. What was it about Dax that rubbed him the wrong way? Why was he so fixated on him? Jack didn’t know the answer, but he knew there was something that just didn’t sit right with him. Dona, on the other hand, was an impressive woman, and a looker too. She technically knew her stuff, but his mind wandered back to Dax. It was very clear that Dax had the passion for treasure hunting, by the way his eyes lit up when he talked about every minute detail of the wreck.
