Treasure Island SEAL: Pirate SEAL Rescues his Mermaid (Sunset SEALs Book 3)

by Sharon Hamilton

  Madison’s ears buzzed every time she looked at the handsome singer perched on the stool on the patio, who had the ear of everyone in the room, including just about all the ladies, both young and old. If there ever was a troubadour, who could wiggle women out from behind their wedding vows, he was the right kind of sweet-sounding, buttery-tongued devil well practiced at it. It was such a welcome change.

  She counted her lucky stars. She was about to take on a new adventure and perhaps a new adventure with her heart as well. Things were beginning to feel exciting. Instead of regretting her threshold of thirty—when the doorway between youth and the beginnings of aging begins to sound alarms—she was headed right into a storm, willing to tether herself to the mast of a handsome, perhaps dangerous, stranger.

  Their eye contact was smoldering but infrequent. He was good at giving the same look to several other ladies in the audience, too, and that became less attractive as the second and third hour passed. It didn’t preclude some experimentation. However, she wasn’t going to chase.

  Noonan sauntered in, wearing a fresh pair of jeans and a long-sleeved, even ironed shirt with snap buttons on the cuff and cowboy boots. It was not the beach vibe she was used to seeing him in and it made Madison convinced her mother must have called him. He was definitely dressed up.

  Even his patch was clean.

  “Hey there, dearie. Your mom been by yet?”

  “So she called you?”

  “She left a message. I was indisposed.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “Can I have a beer? My usual.”

  “Sure, Noonan. Shall I put it on your regular tab too?”

  “Nah, I brought money tonight. I’m going to try to talk your mother into having dinner with me.”

  Madison checked her cell. “At eleven o’clock? She doesn’t eat that late.”

  “Says who?” Madison heard her mother’s voice from behind. “When I was your age I ate all the time, it seems.”

  She looked gorgeous. Reds and oranges were her best colors. Her grey hair, streaked with light and dark patches, was confined to a neat, French roll at the back of her head. She wore turquoise jewelry she’d bought once in Arizona, the squash blossom pieces looking opulent and over the top as they contrasted against the rose reds and oranges of her oversized silk scarf, covering a black top over black jeans. Neither one of them looked like beach people. They looked like tourists.

  Or people on their first date.

  Her mother flashed the one-eyed pirate a wide smile Madison hadn’t seen since this morning. Whatever had happened with the news about the “special person,” she was over it and moving on with gusto.

  “Hello, Noonan.”

  “Amberly. Looking mighty fine.” He watched to see if she liked his comment before he followed it up with a sexy smile.

  “As do you,” she said as she looked away quickly. “Maddie dear, can I have a beer?”

  Madison gave her the same Red Flamingo beer Noonan preferred. The two aging, former lovers clinked glasses and moved to a table out of earshot of Madison. It didn’t take more than thirty seconds before her mother reached out across the table and gripped Noonan’s hand. Their bodies leaned across too for a private chat. She had never seen Noonan so attentive or sober.

  As the evening drew to a close, her mother and Noonan were still talking. Neither one of them had eaten much of their dinners and finally directed them to be removed. The rowdy crowd had started to arrive. The music was coming to a close, soon to be replaced with some canned country greatest hits that the crowd could dance to under the warm Florida night.

  And, probably because she’d been distracted with the steady stream of drinks she was pouring for the thirsty crowd and straining to hear whatever was being discussed between her mother and the Pirate, Garrison Cramer was chatting up two very young lovelies. Their eye contact had ceased, and it was clear her vision for a night of awesome sex was completely out the window.

  He did give her another one of those sexy smiles as he rounded the bar, his arm over both their shoulders on his way out. “You workin’ tomorrow?”

  “Maybe,” she said, making a fake attempt at stubbornness.

  “Then maybe I’ll see you. Until then, be good.”

  She watched the three of them exit the bar area with envy. After their car left the parking lot, she noticed she’d been grinding her teeth.

  Noonan appeared at the bar with his arm around her mother’s waist. “Hey, kid. I just wanted you to know that I paid my bill this time.” He winked. His nose had turned bright red, and she hoped, wherever they were going, although she had a pretty good idea they might be headed to her mom’s cottage at the beach, that her mother was driving.

  “You even left a tip. Iris told me,” she answered.

  “And he didn’t use my credit card, either,” added her mother.

  “Maddie, I got the official word about the dive. We start Wednesday, so get two, maybe three days off if you can. I’m putting together a crew now.” He smiled down on her mother’s face and then added, “I think you’ll like who I’m going to invite to come along.”

  “James Bond?”

  “Nope. It’s a secret.”

  “Great. I’ll let Monty know tonight. Where is it?”

  “It’s a barge. Went down about two hundred years ago, delivering molasses and staples en route to Tampa Bay from Cuba.”

  “A barge? No passengers?”

  Noonan winked. “We’re not looking for passengers. We’re looking for the cook’s dog.”

  “After two hundred years?”

  He smiled. “Well, not exactly the dog. The dog’s collar. That’s the prize.”

  Chapter 7

  Ned’s mother called him the next morning letting him know that the memory care facility had an immediate opening for Aunt Flo and wondered if he could help move her.

  “Normally, the wait time is over six months. But they just had someone leave, and it’s ours if I can get her over there by five.”

  “Will she cooperate?” he asked.

  “It depends on how it’s done. That’s why I want you there. She still remembers you rather vividly. For me, sometimes, there can be a tug of war. She knows I control most of her finances and her life. When she’s conscious to understand that, the bits and pieces that come through are sometimes scrambled.”

  “Okay, I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  “I have the board and care home collecting her things, boxing them up discreetly.”

  “I’m on my way.”

  When he arrived, all Hell had broken loose. When Flo came back from lunch and scoped the boxes and all the packing, she left the facility, heading out a rear exit door that had remained unlocked. The staffers had searched everywhere, hoping to find her nearby.

  Ned looked for some trace of where she’d gone, assuming she’d left by the exit.

  “Isn’t this close to your house, Mom?” he asked.

  “It is. But it’s still about twenty blocks away. That’s a half mile.”

  “I’m wondering if she’s trying to make it back to your place.”

  “I’m not thinking she could ever figure that out. Not sure I could either,” his mom said.

  “What exactly happened?”

  “It was the packing, all the boxes and stuff,” one of the staffers said.

  “That must’ve totally freaked her out. How could you have let that happen?” he asked.

  “You know how it goes. They were supposed to hold her in the dining hall then take her to her mailbox and the library for a short film. Instead, she got loose, walked in here, grabbed her coat and gloves, and was out the door before we could catch her.”

  “That’s why she needs a facility more for her memory than anything else,” said his mother, worry laced in her voice. “She’s very mobile and strong. And she looks very normal. If somebody didn’t know better, they might even let her drive, you know?”

  Ned’s alarm bells went off like a fire station. “Yeah, that would be a danger to
her and everyone else.”

  “The problem for me, of course, is that I’ve always sort of been the one to look over her, and I’ve had to come to the conclusion that there’s a limit to what I can do. I have to face the fact that she needs expert help, something way beyond what I’m trained for.”

  “You’ve got no argument from me.” Ned turned to the two male attendants. “You got any ideas?”

  “If she went out the back, I’m thinking she’d stay off the road. But all the yards are fenced on this side.”

  “What about beyond the yards?”

  “Nothing?”

  “As in what?”

  “No houses. Just a thick brush. Weeds. Deer and raccoons, that kind of stuff.”

  Ned and the male nurses wandered up and down the back of the large property. Then he remembered that there had been a small creek running by his mother’s house and wondered if it also ran behind the board and care. He directed the two staffers to follow behind.

  They scaled a chain-link fence, walked through dense brush, and came upon a homeless encampment set up under the trees, tucked away so that it was invisible to any neighbor or street nearby. The encampment had tents, bicycles, and even a patio umbrella. He heard a radio playing in the background.

  In the middle of a semi-circle of several transient males was Aunt Flo. She was decked out to the nines, wearing her Sunday best, including white gloves. It was a scene he never thought he’d see. He walked up behind Flo, put his finger to his lips so that the other men seated at the circle wouldn’t reveal his approach.

  “Hey, Aunt Flo, it’s great to see you!”

  Just when she turned, he put his hand gently on her shoulder and gave her a big grin.

  “Oh, Ned!” she said as she rose. “We were looking for you everywhere! Your mother was worried sick!” She extended her hand toward the group of males in an attempt to begin introductions. “My memory sometimes fails me fellows, so could you tell me your names again, please?”

  The group stared at each other and, one by one, began to rise slowly. One of them was on crutches, and another had an artificial leg from the mid-calf down.

  “Kennie.”

  “I’m Regis.”

  “I’m Army Daniels. From San Diego.”

  “My name is Boris, and I am from Russia. Nice to meet you.” He gave a quick bow, then added, “We weren’t quite sure what to do, but we figured someone would come along looking for her. We were prepared to take her to the police.”

  Ned reassured them. “No problem, gents. You guys did the right thing. I’m glad you didn’t get her scared.” He put his hand on Flo’s shoulder again “Sometimes she gets scared, doesn’t remember where she is. Isn’t that right, Aunt Flo?”

  Flo rolled her eyes, swatted the air in front of her face and addressed her group of comrades still standing in the circle. “Isn’t it just like a man? You look all over for them, and when they finally pop up, they act like you’re the one who was lost!”

  Several of the men chuckled. One spat a black gob of phlegm. Boris didn’t say anything.

  The peg-leg homeless man said, “You go with your nephew now, Flo. I’ll let the two of you work things out, okay?”

  His reaction seemed to please her. “This has been a lovely visit, gentlemen. Next time I will bring you all some of my very best lemonade and chocolate chip cookies. Will you guys be here tomorrow?”

  They looked between themselves, and all five of them nodded their heads.

  Ned raced with the two women north to Flo’s new home, hoping to reach it by five o’clock. They had brought as much as he could carry in the back of the truck, covered by a tarp. The rest of her things, he would pick up later and have delivered.

  Flo went without incident. She loved road trips and excitedly talked about her new friends and what a nice garden they tended. Ned was never surer that his mother was doing the right thing, even that perhaps it was long overdue.

  About five miles outside San Diego, his aunt fell asleep against the window, on the driver’s side behind Ned. He thought about bringing up the poetry book he’d studied last night and decided against it. The air was already thick with things unsaid.

  His mother broke her silence first.

  “Ned, you’re going to get a call from a friend of your father’s. His name is Noonan LaFontaine, the former Navy diver your dad served with and spent some time with in the Florida Keys before you were born.”

  “The guy who was with him when he found this,” he said as he held out the pendant.

  “The very same. He wasn’t able to attend the funeral, but he wanted to express his condolences, and he’s invited you to come out and spend a week or two with him in Florida.”

  “Not sure I can get the leave, Mom.”

  “Well, you think about it. I gave him your cell.” Before he could protest, she’d already given him the palm of her hand. “I know. But in a way, he’s family. Not by blood, but he and your dad had a bond.”

  Ned wasn’t sure he wanted to spend any time around someone who was close to his father. But he was more than curious if this fellow was one of the little groups in the picture from that poetry book. He also considered the possibility that his dad was someone different in Florida than he was in San Diego.

  “Don’t do that anymore, Mom. You know you’re not to give out my phone, my picture, or anything about me.”

  “Yes, yes, I know. This is different.” She continued. “I think you should go, that’s all. Flo will hopefully be settled. You’ve helped me. You’ve just gotten back from overseas. Take a little time, a little beach time. Your dad always drew a great deal of strength from the beach.”

  “Are you talkin’ about my dad? The pirate bastard?”

  “He wasn’t always that way. We were so happy when you came along. Everything was perfect. We laughed at your antics. He was a different man then.” She watched the countryside stream by, the gentle rolling hills, still brown and unrecovered from the hot summer. Between expanses of dead were bright green rows of tended gardens. It was a huge flower-growing region with peaceful, uncluttered farmland, looking the way it probably did a hundred years ago.

  “This isn’t going to be one of those surprises like, ‘Hey, he’s your dad’ or anything is it?”

  His mother in profile smiled, shaking her head. Then she turned to face him. “I’ve only ever slept with one man, and that man was your father.”

  “The Pirate bastard, not this Noonan guy, right?”

  “Right.”

  “Okay, I’ll talk to him. Just trying to get my bearings here.”

  She chuckled. “He used to say that all the time. I used to laugh every time he’d say it, because for all his planning and calculating, when he was sailing in those days, he always managed to get lost. It was sort of our joke. He planned so hard only to get lost, whereas everyone else on the planet just got lost.”

  He could feel the lid on her personality curling at the edges as if she was gradually releasing something she’d kept bottled up. In another place, in another lifetime, she might have been a completely different person.

  Later that night, Ned got the call he’d been expecting.

  “I’m a friend of your father’s,” said the crusty voice of someone who could have been his father’s twin.

  “I’ve heard some of the stories, Mr. LaFontaine. I’m just—”

  “Oh, this is far more than about your dad, Son. I’ve been contracted to do a special dive for a private individual to look for an artifact that was sunk some two hundred years ago off the gulf side of Florida. I’m hiring a team, and as a former SEAL, I know you’ve got some great experience. That’s what I need.”

  “I’m still active, Mr. LaFontaine, but I’ve never done anything like that. The equipment is all different.”

  “No, it’s not. Mine just has more stickers and stuff. It’s more beat-up because I don’t have a rich Uncle Sam. And of course, you wouldn’t be bringing yours. You’d use mine, Son.”

  “
When are you going out?”

  “We start Wednesday.”

  “You have full permission?”

  “Yup. Florida’s signed off. We’re below the monetary limit anyway. We’re looking to get something more sentimental than valuable.”

  “How deep?”

  “It’s shallow. Way less than a hundred feet. Probably sixty to eighty. Lots of people have gone after things there, but the storms this year really pushed things around, scrambled the wrecks, so it could be deeper, but not by much that close to the coastline. It will be warm, so we’ll wear our shorties. I’m not bringing anyone on who doesn’t have a lot of experience. And, in case you’re wondering, I don’t dive any longer. I’m the captain.”

  “Have you calculated the weather for next week?”

  “Are you kidding? It’s gorgeous this time of year. Not a hurricane in sight, not yet. We’d have lots of warning. And this isn’t the Caribbean, you know. Not that unexpected stuff. You’ve been there, of course.”

  “I have.”

  “Well, this will be like diving in a nice, warm swimming pool. Crystal clear water and not mucked up with overpopulation. Just all the things you like about the ocean. We’re keeping to all the rules. This isn’t a pirate mission, despite what you may have heard about me.”

  “Yeah, I heard so many stories I stopped believing in them long ago.”

  “That’s a shame. Your dad was a helluva guy and an even better storyteller.”

  “Said no one ever in California.”

  Noonan chuckled, which led him into a coughing fit. “Sinuses,” he said by way of explanation. It sounded like full-on bronchitis to Ned.

  “So you and Mom kept in touch, then?”

  “No, not really. I never met her. I kept in touch with your dad, but the last time I talked to him was from the hospital. He’d borrowed someone’s cell. He told me all kind of nice things about you. But come out here, and I’ll tell you all about it, if you’re interested.”

  Ned had to admit he was. Although he had no burning desire to know more about his dad’s past, he was interested in the area. He too had loved the Florida weather, the coast, and the vibe of the little beach towns he’d visited on the Atlantic side, where they’d done most of their training. He decided to test for Noonan’s sense of humor.