Sunken Seas (A Rowan Gray Mystery Book 4)

by Lily Harper Hart

  Table of Contents

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twenty-One

  Mail List

  Acknowledgments

  Books by Lily Harper Hart

  Sunken Seas

  A Rowan Gray Mystery Book Four

  Lily Harper Hart

  HarperHart Publications

  Copyright © 2017 by Lily Harper Hart

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  1. One

  2. Two

  3. Three

  4. Four

  5. Five

  6. Six

  7. Seven

  8. Eight

  9. Nine

  10. Ten

  11. Eleven

  12. Twelve

  13. Thirteen

  14. Fourteen

  15. Fifteen

  16. Sixteen

  17. Seventeen

  18. Eighteen

  19. Nineteen

  20. Twenty

  21. Twenty-One

  Mail List

  Acknowledgments

  Books by Lily Harper Hart

  1

  One

  “Again? You’re going to kill me, woman.”

  Rowan Gray looked up from the sandcastle she toiled over and fixed her boyfriend Quinn Davenport with a mischievous smile as he offered up a mock growl and joined her on the beachy expanse.

  It was early in the day, the sun low in the sky and the heat far from blistering, and Rowan was happy to have some quiet time. Since she worked on a cruise ship – something that was a relatively new experience – she’d found that she enjoyed her down time far more than she used to when she worked as a photographer for a Detroit newspaper.

  “Did you find my note?”

  Quinn, his short hair fresh from a shower, offered up a rueful grin. “The rather elaborate note that told me exactly where you were going to be and what you were going to be doing? The one you put on the pillow next to my head so I wouldn’t wake alone? Yeah, I found it.”

  Rowan’s stomach did a little jig at his playful expression. They’d only been dating a couple weeks – finally taking the plunge and spending “clothing optional” nights together after a rather tense and sexually heightened stretch – and they were in that heady new part of the relationship that often left them both breathless and excited whenever they were in close proximity to one another. “You could’ve just said you were on the beach. I particularly liked the little sketch you did of what you would look like on the beach so I would be sure to recognize you.”

  Rowan was sheepish. “Sorry. I couldn’t sleep.”

  “You should’ve woken me.” Quinn snagged Rowan’s hand and gave it a squeeze as she worked on her project. “You didn’t have to come out here and build a sandcastle to distract yourself from the temptation of my naked body.”

  Rowan blinked several times in rapid succession as his words slipped into place. “You’re kind of full of yourself.”

  Quinn bobbed his head. “I am.”

  “It’s kind of cute.”

  “That’s what I was going for.” Quinn leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to the corner of Rowan’s mouth. Before her arrival on The Bounding Storm, the ship where he served as security chief, he fancied himself a footloose and fancy-free bachelor for the immediate future … if not forever. From the moment she arrived, though, he was drawn to her. He couldn’t explain it and, ultimately, he couldn’t fight it. He wasn’t much of a relationship guy before Rowan hit the ship, but now he couldn’t imagine how he made it before her … and they’d only been together for a few weeks. It was altogether frightening and exciting at the same time.

  “What are you thinking about?” Rowan asked curiously, catching the shift in his demeanor as she worked on a turret.

  “You.” Quinn saw no reason to lie. “I seem to think about you a lot these days.”

  Rowan’s cheeks burned as she focused on the castle. She was afraid if she met his steady gaze that she would end up ripping his clothes off with her teeth as they played at plundering the castle. “Oh. That’s sweet.”

  “No, what’s sweet is how red your face gets when you’re embarrassed.”

  Rowan pursed her lips. “I wasn’t embarrassed.”

  “Yes, you were.”

  “Was not.”

  “Was, too.”

  Rather than let the conversation devolve into something that would require a lot of energy, Rowan merely shrugged. “Fine. Maybe I was embarrassed. I still think it’s a sweet sentiment.”

  “I can live with that.” Quinn shifted so he was closer to Rowan, their knees touching as they sat cross-legged. “How come you always want to build a sandcastle when we’re at port?”

  “Honestly?”

  Quinn nodded.

  “I find it relaxing,” Rowan replied. “I’m not sure how to explain it. “I like the sound of the ocean, the breeze in my hair. I like the sun before it gets too hot. I like the way the cool sand, the sand underneath the top stuff, feels when I’m working with it. It’s weird but … it’s kind of like meditating or something.”

  “I don’t think it’s that weird,” Quinn countered. “I think it’s fairly sweet and cute.” He dug in the sand and came up with a handful of damp mud. “I was thinking I might build the castle’s official garage.”

  Rowan giggled, amused. “You could do that.”

  “Cool.” Quinn set to work. He wasn’t yet familiar with all of Rowan’s moods – although he was getting there – and he was certain something else was behind her need to build a sandcastle whenever they hit port.

  The first several times she did it he thought it was absolutely adorable. It wasn’t until the third time he started noticing a pattern. By the fifth time, he could track her moods by the castle she built. He was both fascinated and troubled by the phenomenon.

  “Did you spend a lot of time at the beach when you were a kid?” Quinn asked after several minutes of silence.

  Rowan shrugged. “We spent a lot of time by lakes. We had a cottage in the Thumb – that’s the Michigan thumb – and we spent most of our summers there before … well, before my mother died.”

  Quinn nodded. He knew Rowan remained troubled by her mother’s death even though she was barely into her teen years when it happened. Worse than her mother’s death, though, was the disappearance of her father when she was eighteen. Rowan could grasp that her mother was gone and didn’t leave of her own volition. What happened to Rowan’s father – the only parent she had remaining – was a mystery. Did he pick up and leave on his own? Was he dead? Did something else happen to him? These were the questions that plagued Rowan even though she was determined to put everything behind her. Quinn wanted to help her find answers, but he had no idea where to start.

  “Did you make sandcastles on Michigan beaches?” Quinn asked.

  “I did.” Rowan smiled at the memory. “My mother used to help me. We’d make these huge castles.” She held her arms up and out for emphasis
. “They were extremely elaborate. My father thought it was a waste of time and yet he always took photographs of them. I have an entire collection of sandcastle photos from when I was younger.”

  “I would like to see them.”

  Rowan snorted, genuinely amused. “Why?”

  Quinn opted for honesty. “Because they’re important to you. That means they’re important to me.”

  Rowan’s heart melted. If she wasn’t already desperately smitten, that would’ve tipped her right over the edge. “How come you always know the right thing to say?”

  “I think that’s only your perception,” Quinn said dryly. “If you ask my mother – heck, if you ask anyone else in my family – they’ll tell you I’m a ‘speak first and think about it second’ type of person.”

  Rowan smiled, the expression lighting up her pretty face. Quinn loved watching her on the mornings when she chose to hit the beach. The way the sun set off her auburn hair made him think of a wildfire.

  “I still think you always know the right thing to say to me,” Rowan pressed.

  “Maybe you bring it out of me.” Quinn gripped Rowan’s hand and took her by surprise when he pressed a kiss to her knuckles. It was a schmaltzy and yet heartfelt moment and she knew she would remember it for a very long time. “I’m just trying to understand why you like building sandcastles. I enjoy it. I think it’s fun. You seem to need to do it, though.”

  “I told you. It relaxes me.”

  “There’s something more.” Quinn knit his eyebrows as he tried to draw the answer out of her. Finally, he gave up. “When you’re ready, you’ll tell me.”

  Rowan balked. “I just like building them and think it’s relaxing.”

  Quinn tilted his head to the side, considering. “Maybe you don’t even understand why you’re doing it. I guess we’ll have to discover that together.”

  Rowan had no idea how to respond to that so she merely shrugged. “I guess.” Desperate to change the subject, she glommed on to their upcoming trip. “So, what can you tell me about this treasure-seeking group we’re going to be taking on?”

  Quinn knew exactly what she was doing – and why – but he opted not to call her on it. She didn’t want to be pushed and he understood the inclination to keep certain things to herself. He could wait her out on the sandcastles, and he’d learned his lesson several times over when it came to pushing her.

  “I don’t know if I’d call them treasure seekers,” Quinn hedged. “You probably shouldn’t say that in front of them.”

  “I’m sure I can refrain,” Rowan said so dryly Quinn could do nothing but laugh.

  “It’s a big deal,” Quinn said after a beat. “The Conqueror was originally supposed to travel between Europe and Florida during the Revolutionary War. It had additional troops – although nowhere near what people thought the Americans needed to win – and it had money stored on it.”

  “Do you know much about the history?”

  Quinn shrugged. He was something of a history buff but wanted to remain “cool” in Rowan’s eyes so he worked overtime to tamp down his enthusiasm. “I read up about it when I heard they were coming.”

  Rowan stared at him for several moments, internally debating how she should respond. Finally, she could do nothing but laugh. “I saw the history books in your cabin long before this trip came about. I know you’re a history geek.”

  Quinn scowled. “I don’t like the word ‘geek.’”

  “I’m sorry.” Rowan was instantly contrite. “I know you’re a history stud. Please continue.”

  “That’s better.” Quinn attempted to remain stern but lost the battle when he saw the way Rowan’s lips curved. “You think you’re funny, don’t you?”

  “I think you always make me smile these days and I’m grateful.”

  The heartfelt declaration was enough to cause Quinn’s heart to stutter – something he wasn’t prepared for – and he merely shook his head to dislodge the lovey-dovey thoughts invading his brain. “You steal the breath from me sometimes.”

  “Right back at you.”

  Quinn grinned as he regrouped. “Anyway … what was I saying?”

  “You were being a history stud and telling me about The Conqueror.”

  “Oh, right.” Even though part of him was in the mood to be romantic, Quinn was happy to share his ship knowledge. He figured he could romance Rowan as soon as she was done with her castle, which left him plenty of time to talk about what he considered to be one of the greatest ship finds … well, ever.

  “So, The Conqueror set sail from Portugal in 1777. It was supposed to take several months to arrive. The men on board were mercenaries rather than troops, but I believe the rationale for sending them was that it would be impossible for the Americans to win, so why not send people they didn’t care about surviving for the cause.”

  Rowan made a face. “That’s … delightful.”

  “Well, it happened a long time ago, so don’t get worked up.”

  “Yeah, yeah.”

  Quinn smirked. “Anyway, like I said, the ship never arrived. It was believed to have sunk in the middle of the ocean, someplace it would be lost for all time. Two months ago, though, divers filming one of those documentaries for Shark Week happened upon something they couldn’t explain.

  “When they got closer for inspection – and that took some time because they had to bring in more heavy duty equipment – they found a handful of coins and a desk plate,” he continued. “They also found a reef that looked suspiciously like the remnants of a ship.

  “The area has been cordoned off for two months while the coins and plate were researched, but about a week ago information came back,” he continued. “The coins were Portuguese in origin … and the desk plate belonged to the captain of The Conqueror.”

  Rowan furrowed her brow. “And it was found where again?”

  “Between Miami and the Bahamas. There’s a small island out there – very small, by the way – and we’ll be docking there.”

  “What’s it called?”

  “El Demonio.”

  “Isn’t that Spanish for demon?”

  Quinn nodded.

  “So we’re going to Demon Island?”

  “I guess. I never really thought about it.” Quinn’s grin was impish. “Does that frighten you? If so, I think I can arrange it so you won’t be alone when you go to sleep during the trip. In fact, I know the perfect guy to act as your bodyguard.”

  Even though she was interested in hearing more, Rowan couldn’t stop herself from smiling. “Is that so?”

  “Yes.”

  “We’ll negotiate terms on that later,” Rowan said. “For now, go back to The Conqueror. How is this going to work? I mean, I know we have a lot of historians and professional divers hitting the ship tomorrow, but I’m not sure what to expect once they get here.”

  In truth, Quinn wasn’t sure what to expect either. “My understanding is that everyone will start arriving in the morning. It’s not going to be a full load, but the excavation company in charge bought out the entire ship. It’s more like a quarter load when you add up everyone.”

  “But they all won’t be diving, right?”

  Quinn shook his head. “The dive team is relatively small. I believe the primary team, those with the most clearance, is only about twenty people. The extended team is about a hundred people. They’ll oversee setting their own schedule so we’ll just have to watch and get vicarious thrills through them.”

  “And the other people?”

  “They’ve got people trained to clean whatever treasure they find. They’ve got map experts, ship experts, and a bunch of historians. This could be a huge find.”

  “And you’re excited because you’re a history geek.”

  Quinn extended a warning finger. “Stud. I’m a history stud.”

  “You’re definitely a stud. I … .” Rowan didn’t get a chance to finish what she was going to say because Quinn picked that moment to tackle her into the sand, rolling her so
his body was on top and she was pinned between him and the ground. “Well, I see you’re about to demonstrate your stud factor,” she said when she caught her breath.

  Quinn’s smile was so wide it almost swallowed his entire face as he leaned over. His lips were mere inches from hers and he was desperate to press them together. He wasn’t done playing yet, though.

  “Have I ever told you about my dreams of being a professional swashbuckler when I was a kid?”

  The question caught Rowan off guard. “I don’t believe so.”

  “When I was a young man – still a stud, mind you – I didn’t know a swashbuckler wasn’t a real thing. I thought it was just another form of pirate … but a good pirate who gets the girl and doesn’t do anything illegal.”

  Rowan snorted. “You were a rule follower even as a kid, weren’t you?”

  Quinn shrugged, unbothered by the challenge in her voice. “I like a bit of order to my day. That’s why I joined the military. Sue me.”

  “No. I like a little order in my day, too. That’s why we get along so well. I especially like it when you decide to organize everything – including your socks – and go on a mission to make sure they’re all paired before we go to sleep.”

  “Ha, ha.” Quinn wrinkled his nose. “I like things a certain way. I’m not going to deny it.”

  “I like things a certain way, too,” Rowan admitted. “I like them this way.” She planted her dirty hands on either side of Quinn’s face and then raised her head so she could smack her lips against his. “I like this a lot.”

  Even though he wanted to be in charge of the game, Quinn couldn’t stop himself from smiling. She was far too appealing to restrain for long periods of time. “I like this a lot, too. I was in the middle of a story, though.”

  Rowan was contrite. “I’m sorry. Continue with your swashbuckling story.”

  “I always wanted to find hidden treasure,” Quinn explained. “You know the movie The Goonies? That’s my idea of perfection.”

  Rowan smiled at the admission. “I absolutely love that movie. I wanted so badly to go on an adventure during rainy days when I was a kid. It never happened, but that didn’t stop me from dreaming.”