Found at Sea

by Anne Marie Duquette

  “I need this boat,” she said again, her face, like his, tilted back and watching for the Coast Guard.

  “Aurora, you can’t use any boat if you’re dead!”

  Aurora’s hand flew to her mouth, the radio mouthpiece still grasped tightly in her fingers. Jordan pressed his advantage.

  “If we can save this ship, fine. If not, so be it. But Dorian needs you safe and sound. Abandon ship!”

  Aurora checked her watch. She glanced up at the sky and then examined the waterline on the hull, her hair blowing every which way. “No. You said I had five minutes. I have two minutes left.”

  “Do you know how fast a ship can sink?” he asked angrily. “Not minutes—seconds. I saw our fleet go down and take my family with it. I won’t watch that again.”

  “I’m sorry, Jordan.”

  “Doesn’t matter. You can’t win a fight with a sinking ship, Aurora. We’ll be under in five minutes, if that. Now, abandon ship.”

  “Two more minutes,” she agreed. “Two more minutes, and we ditch.”

  Jordan checked his own watch. “Two minutes it is, then ready or not, I drag you off this deck.”

  Aurora closed her eyes for the briefest second; when she opened them, she stared up at the sky once more. Jordan kept his attention on the water level, his hands already working to loosen the single tie keeping the Zodiac attached.

  He glanced at Aurora...and noted the determination—the stubbornness. But no fear. No panic. For the first time Jordan understood why she’d been able to find the San Rafael when no one else could. She never gives up—never. Not even when disaster stares her in the face. But strength of will won’t keep this ship floating.... Still, her strength of character had raised his already high opinion of her. He felt emotionally drawn to such a woman, despite being in the middle of an emergency. I’m falling in love with Aurora. He had to fight to keep his mind on the business at hand.

  Jordan checked his watch again. Time was up. His fingers moved to cast off the last Zodiac line just as the speck of an orange-and-white Coast Guard helicopter appeared in the distance.

  Aurora fired a flare. Jordan breathed a sigh of relief as the helicopter approached to hover nearby. A male diver signaled from the chopper and then, at their assurances of no injuries, made a jump into the water. After giving a thumbs-up diving signal, he went underwater to examine the hull. As the diver prepared to locate any hole and temporarily patch it, the helicopter contacted Aurora via radio.

  “We’re going to lower a line to you. Copy?”

  Aurora waved her response. “Watch the line,” she told Jordan. “It’s on your side.”

  Jordan was able to capture the free line easily enough. Aurora signaled his success to the helicopter, and the crew hefted the pump inside its metal basket, attached to a winch, outside into the open air. The pilot slowly lowered the basket, while Jordan guided the machinery to the deck, ready to catch and secure it when it touched down.

  “Got it. Unhitch the winch line,” she yelled into the radio above the noise of the whirling blades.

  Jordan secured the pump. “Help me get this thing started,” he called.

  With help from Aurora and a few terse instructions over the radio, he soon had the pump operating. The diver eventually emerged above the water to let them know via hand motions that he’d found and temporarily plugged the hole. He left in the same basket and winch that had lowered the pump.

  A mere ten minutes later, radio traffic between vessel and aircraft concluded. Thanks were given; the risk of capsizing was gone. The Coast Guard helicopter followed the Silver Dollar back to port, the gas-powered borrowed pump and the ship’s bilge pumps working hard to expel the water belowdecks. With Aurora at the controls and Jordan babysitting the high-powered pump, the ship slowly limped back to Oceanside Harbor.

  * * *

  THE MASSIVE CRANE carefully lifted the crippled vessel out of the harbor, seawater streaming down from the loaner’s damaged hull. Once on land, Aurora returned the pump to the Coast Guard, again expressing her gratitude. The Coast Guard had notified Harbor Patrol, but neither they nor Aurora needed to be told that the hole in her hull had been deliberately made.

  “Looks like they pulled the seal away from the through-hull,” Jordan observed, “and that pulled away part of a wooden plank. I think...I think they wanted a slow leak, Aurora. We lucked out.”

  Aurora nodded. “We would have been below water, diving, in an hour and a half,” she said.

  Jordan’s jaw tightened. “Enough time for John Doe to find the San Rafael’s general location and to watch the Silver Dollar join her at the bottom. Along with us.”

  Icy coldness swept her skin, causing her to shiver in the noonday sun. Jordan’s arm immediately swung around her shoulders as he hugged her tight and gently drew her back from the water that dripped steadily from the boat above her. It seemed a logical move to keep her dry. But Aurora felt much more than gratitude for simple chivalry. His arm did indeed warm her skin, even as his nearness dispelled much of the gloom caused by the near-sinking. She found herself moving even closer, stepping back at the approach of a man carrying a sheaf of documents. Jordan signed papers for the Coast Guard, more papers for the Harbor Patrol and still more, provided by the dry dock to authorize repairs.

  Officer Elliot from the Harbor Patrol shook his head. “Someone’s definitely got it in for you, Ms. Collins. We’ll keep a close eye on this vessel and the dry dock while she’s here.”

  “Can we get our dive equipment?” Jordan asked.

  Elliot held up a restraining hand. “That’ll have to wait until our investigation’s complete. Give us a couple of days.”

  Aurora nodded again, not trusting herself to speak.

  “We should head back to your sister’s,” Jordan suggested. “And then we need to talk.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Dorian’s house, Oceanside

  Same day, 2:00 p.m.

  “HERE WE ARE,” Aurora said to Jordan, sounding as casual as she could manage. “I didn’t think we’d be back so soon.” She unlocked the door. “Do you want something to drink? I think I saw some sandwich fixings in the freezer the other day....”

  Aurora started toward the kitchen. Jordan’s light grasp on her arm stopped her.

  “Aurora, skip the hostess routine. We need to talk now.”

  Aurora nodded weakly as she moved toward the living-room couch.

  “We’ve got to call off the salvage operation,” Jordan said. “Or we’re going to end up in Davy Jones’s locker.”

  “Now who’s being superstitious?” she asked irritably. “If you mean dead, say so.”

  “I’m calling off the salvage, Aurora. This is the third time someone’s tried to stop us, your boat last week and today with the loaner. And don’t forget what happened to me at the pier.”

  “I haven’t forgotten anything.” Her voice sounded brittle, even to her own ears. Shaken, she rose from the touch. “I’m gonna eat. I’m hungry. Are you coming?”

  Jordan rose, too. “Wait—sit down and listen.”

  Aurora recognized the full strength of a captain’s order in Jordan’s tone. She also remembered how he’d refused to let her lose her head earlier. “I’m listening,” she said quietly.

  Jordan nodded. He ran his hand through his hair, then exhaled on a slow breath. “Have you ever buried a loved one?”

  Aurora shook her head. “I’ve been lucky.”

  “You know I haven’t. A day doesn’t go by that I don’t think of my missing brothers. My father... I won’t have your family go through what I did. I won’t have them mourning you—and blaming me for it.”

  “But they’re in jail, Dorian and—”

  “Yes, but they’re alive, and despite your sister’s illness, I’m betting they have a better chance of remaining that way than you do.” He drew her hands into his. “Aurora, we can’t risk going on with this salvage. Your judgment is impaired—your actions today prove it.”

  “But I n
eed the money,” Aurora insisted. “I’m willing to take my chances.”

  “Money isn’t going to bring you back from the dead. We’re partners—we’re in this together. I’m not willing to risk your life. Or mine.”

  Aurora jerked her hands away from his. “Then we’re no longer partners.”

  Jordan’s eyes narrowed. “What?”

  “I need Dorian out of jail soon. She’s sick—maybe dying. Money may just save her life. I can’t afford to wait any longer, and if you won’t help me, I’ll offer my rights to the San Rafael to the highest bidder.”

  “No, you won’t.”

  “You heard me.” Aurora sprang up and paced the room nervously. “Don’t push me, Jordan. I have no other choice.”

  “And who do you think will show up at your door?” Jordan demanded. “John Doe—or perhaps Tom, Dick and Harry from the pier?”

  Aurora stopped her pacing. “Which, come to think of it...may not be such a bad idea. We could let Donna handle this. She’s used to undercover operations. With half my rights on sale—though it would be better with yours, too...”

  “Aurora, I can’t afford to buy you out. Even if you could find someone tomorrow—which I doubt—I don’t want anyone else as a partner. We make a good team, you and I.”

  Their eyes met. Suddenly the word team held more meaning than she’d considered—or wanted—with Jordan Castillo. Before she lost the impulse, Aurora leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. She considered that kiss inadequate and, despite the desperation of her present circumstances, found herself wishing for more.

  “Yes, we do.” She sat down again, her anger gone. “What if we don’t really sell our rights, Jordan? What if we pretend to sell to smoke this guy out? We can’t go salvaging if the bad guys keep sinking our ships,” she added with a hint of acerbic humor.

  “No,” he said with no humor at all. “It’s too dangerous.”

  “You don’t have to be part of it. Just don’t stand in my way.”

  “I won’t have anything to do with a scheme like this—nor will you.”

  “Oh, yes, I will.”

  “You want to get killed? Look, our saboteur isn’t stupid enough to fall for your amateurish ploy. Except for the actual galleon location, he’s been ahead of us every step of the way. This idea stinks. And if you don’t believe me,” he said before she could interrupt, “call your friend Donna. She’ll tell you the same thing.”

  Aurora immediately picked up the phone and dialed. She hung up after just a few minutes of conversation with her friend, a conversation that included the bare outline of today’s incident.

  “See? What did I tell you?”

  Aurora’s eyes turned winter-ocean cold. “Then I’ll break them out of jail myself. And there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”

  * * *

  HE REASONED. He yelled. He cajoled. He tried to change her mind while she fixed them the long-delayed sandwiches for lunch. He tried while she ate. By the time she’d finished eating—he’d ignored the food on his own plate—and washed the dishes, Jordan had given up.

  She left a message for Roberto, asking him to meet her in Mexico tomorrow and if possible to call her tonight.

  “What am I supposed to do while you’re planning the Great Escape? Stay here and change your sister’s shelf paper? Or should I start getting your bail money ready? If Mexico will even let you post bail.”

  “You do whatever you have to do,” Aurora said. “Hire your own boat. Find your own crew. Salvage the payload. Play cops and robbers with John Doe and his three thugs—whatever. Just leave me out of it. I’m bringing my sister home.”

  “This is dangerous! Crazy. Do you know what you’re doing?”

  Aurora shrugged. “I’m showering, making some phone calls and going to bed. I have to get up early.”

  “Aurora...” He followed her down the hall, only to have the bathroom door closed in his face.

  Jordan hovered in the hall, uncertain where to go and what to do, when the phone rang.

  He picked it up.

  “Hello,” he said and listened as the operator asked if he would accept a collect call from Mexico. “Yes,” he said immediately.

  “Señorita Collins, por favor.”

  Jordan recognized Roberto’s voice and switched to Spanish. “She can’t come to the phone right now. This is Jordan Castillo.”

  “Gracias a Dios.” Roberto’s hurried words of explanation alarmed Jordan even more than Aurora’s declaration had.

  “Let me get this straight,” Jordan said after a few minutes. “Tanya thinks she’s found a way out of jail, and she intends to break her mother out on her own?”

  “She says she will. The mother is muy enfirma, and the daughter—señor, she is loca. She wouldn’t change her mind.”

  “Takes after her aunt,” Jordan murmured.

  “Pardon?”

  “Aurora’s decided on her own jailbreak. The whole family thinks alike. How sick does Tanya say Dorian is?”

  Jordan’s face fell as he listened to Roberto’s response. “She’s that bad? Yet Tanya plans to take her mother with her?”

  “She will fail, Señor Castillo. And the madre will pay the price of the hija’s stupidity once again. What should I do? Señorita Collins must know of this.”

  “Aurora and I are coming down to Tijuana. Tell Tanya to sit tight until we get there. Don’t let her move one inch until we talk to her first. Got it?”

  “So...you are going to help the señorita with this jailbreak?”

  He sighed. “I guess I am. Later, okay?” Jordan hung up and headed for the kitchen.

  I’m as insane as she is—or more in love than I thought. What is that woman dragging me into this time? The San Rafael’s bad luck is still holding. I almost wish I’d never heard of her. That stupid galleon—and a woman I don’t know whether to shake or kiss—may get us killed yet....

  Tijuana

  Next morning

  THE SUN SHONE HOT over the land. The cool ocean breezes stayed only over the water, offering no relief. Inside Aurora’s truck, the air conditioner tried to keep pace with the heat and failed. She drove in silence, grim-faced and uncomfortable. Jordan rode next to her, idly counting all the boats lucky enough to be out on the water. He wished he was in one of them, with Aurora at his side on the flying bridge—or better yet, in his arms...

  “Check those directions for me, will you?” Aurora asked him. “The turn to Roberto’s house should be somewhere around here.”

  Jordan flipped open the hand-drawn map he’d made last night during his phone conversation with Roberto. “We should see a carniceria in a few miles. Go left at the meat market, follow the road past two dirt turnoffs, take the third and bear right.”

  Aurora nodded, then took her eyes off the road for a quick glance at him. “It’s not too late to back out,” she said.

  “I won’t unless you do, and this is the third time you’ve said that since we crossed the border.”

  “I want you to be sure. They’re not your family.” She returned her attention to the road. “You still haven’t told me why you’re helping me. You’re not a rule breaker.”

  No, he wasn’t. Except for her devotion to family, this woman was his complete opposite. But he wouldn’t abandon her. She hadn’t abandoned him when he was beaten and thrown into the ocean to drown. She could have been hurt—killed—herself. I think that’s when I started to love her. If anything happens to her... No, he’d never let anything happen to her. He’d lost too much already.

  “Let’s just say I owe you, okay?” Now wasn’t the time to tell her how he felt. She had enough to worry about without a lovesick suitor who didn’t have enough sense to walk away from certain disaster. And he used to be such a sensible guy.

  “You what?” she echoed.

  “For the pier.”

  “But you don’t. Anyone would have helped.”

  “I doubt that. Not against three men, not in the dead of night, not against those powerful c
urrents. Only a woman as strong as you, emotionally, mentally, physically—with a heart as big as the ocean—would have tried.” He meant every word.

  “Jordan, I didn’t do it to put myself in your debt. Jailbreaking is not the way to pay me back, even if I did think you owed me. I don’t want you ending up in jail.”

  “Or you, either, which means this better be one well-planned jailbreak. And that’s almost as crazy an idea as you trying to smoke out John Doe by selling your salvage rights. I think that’s the butcher store ahead,” he said. “Take a left.”

  The semipaved road became more dirt than pavement, and then the pavement disappeared completely after another mile. Scraggly vegetable patches lined the dry fields on either side of them, with the occasional bony goat or two tied among the scrub. How could anyone beat starvation living off those sparse fields? A bumpy fifteen minutes later, they drove onto the third dirt road that led to Roberto’s house.

  Jordan blinked. “This can’t be it,” he said, gazing at the wood scraps and tin parts that made up a boxy shape, the holes serving as windows covered by cardboard. Obviously no running water or electricity would be found here, judging by the rain barrel and the stack of spindly firewood.

  “Welcome to south of the border,” Aurora said, parking the truck. “Don’t get out yet. Mexico is full of stray dogs.”

  Jordan paused in midreach for the truck handle. “I don’t see how a dog could survive here, let alone people.”

  “Sad, isn’t it?” Aurora shut off the ignition and rolled down her window. “At least you actually care about things. Animals, people... I respect that. I wish there were more men—and women—like you.” She leaned over and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, then pulled the keys out of the ignition. “Here comes Roberto. And I was right. There is a dog—and Roberto’s little brother, maybe? I didn’t know about him.”

  She climbed out of the car before Jordan could get her door. The scruffy tan-and-white dog, obviously some kind of small terrier mix, yipped as they all greeted each other, the boy clutching Roberto’s leg.