by Melissa Good
Dar paused and looked over her shoulder, her eyes hidden behind sunglasses despite the rain. Ah. DeSalliers himself was trotting down the dock after them, his blue blazer getting spotted with rain. Dar turned fully and waited, having gotten what she’d asked for. “Yes?”
“Ms. Roberts, Ms. Roberts.” DeSalliers sighed. “You know, I think we really did start off on the wrong foot.” His attitude, completely reversed from the morning’s, was almost friendly. “All we do is keep getting more and more hostile. Can’t we turn this around?”
Dar regarded him warily. “You’re giving me bullshit whiplash.”
“Please,” DeSalliers continued, “let’s just go inside, out of this blasted rain, and talk.”
The risk seemed acceptable, Dar reasoned, considering everything. “All right,” she agreed.
“Great.” He started to lead them back toward his boat. “I’m sure we can come to a better understanding of each other, if we just put a little effort into it.” Only then did he seem to notice Kerry’s continued presence. “Sorry. I don’t think we’ve met?”
Kerry promptly extended a hand. “Kerry.”
“Ah.” DeSalliers took it and pressed it briefly. “And you are?”
“Dar’s American Express card,” Kerry replied smoothly. “She never leaves home without me.”
Dar had to bite the inside of her lip to keep from smiling.
“We’re partners,” she supplied succinctly.
They passed the two guards, both of whom glared at Dar as she brushed by them. Dar ignored their attitude and followed DeSalliers up the long gangplank to the deck of his boat, stepping neatly down after him onto the vessel.
Kerry eased off after Dar, looking around the deck of the big boat as they moved around toward the cabin. The deck floor was covered in plush-looking, all-weather Astroturf, and there were two more guards who were braced on either side of the deck, hands clasped behind their backs. They were big and healthy looking, and reminded Kerry irresistibly of cattle. “Moo,” she uttered, under her breath. She saw Dar’s shoulders twitch in a silent laugh.
They followed DeSalliers inside the cabin and found a space as ostentatiously well-appointed as the exterior deck suggested. It was full of dark leather furniture and teak wood, and smelled very masculine. On one side there was a bar, complete with a ceiling-mounted glass rack with pivots. Across from the bar was an entertainment center with a circular viewing lounge. Toward the rear was a spacious galley, and behind that, a closed door that led to the more private areas of the boat’s cabin.
The windows were so tinted that light barely penetrated. Most 156 Melissa Good of the illumination was provided by recessed fixtures near the walls, and one searingly bright beam that splashed over the dining room table, highlighting a crystal vase with a single, perfect red rose in it.
“Please, sit down,” DeSalliers said as he crossed to the bar.
“Can I get you both a drink?”
“No thank you,” Kerry replied. She waited quietly near the door, looking around.
Dar was circling the cabin, examining the oriental-themed, framed mats on the walls. “Nothing for me, thanks.” She stopped in front of a small painting near the galley, leaning forward a little as she recognized the style. Her eyebrows rose behind her glasses.
“Nice piece, isn’t it?” Their host spoke up behind her. “I have a much larger one in my home. Truly captures the majesty of the sea.”
Dar straightened. “Very nice.” She pulled off her sunglasses and turned, chewing on the earpiece as she regarded DeSalliers.
“I’ll pass your compliments on to my mother.”
The man froze in place. His brows contracted fiercely, giving him an almost comical look as he paused in the act of pouring himself a glass of what appeared to be scotch. “Excuse me?”
Dar’s thumb gestured over her shoulder at the small painting.
“That’s my mother’s work,” she replied mildly. “Seascapes are a favorite theme of hers.”
DeSalliers put down the glass and rested his hands on the bar.
“Well, well,” he murmured. “You are a veritable Pandora’s box of surprises, aren’t you, Ms. Roberts?” He picked up his glass and swirled the contents, circling Dar. “I send out an inquiry expecting, at best, some rich brat tooling about the Caribbean, and what do I come up with? The CIO of the largest computer services organization in the world.” He paused. “What a surprise.”
Dar shrugged. “We’re even. I go out tooling about the Caribbean on a simple vacation, and what do I come up with?
Assholes chasing my boat, breaking and entering my hotel room, and vague, useless threats sent by courier,” she countered. “What a surprise. All I was expecting was reasonable weather and a few spiny lobster.”
DeSalliers sighed. “I thought we were trying to get on a better footing.”
Dar spread out her hands, both of her eyebrows lifting. “I come up from a damn dive, and the next thing I know, your half-witted goons are chasing my ass down.”
“Now, Ms. Roberts…” The man held a hand up soothingly. “I realize now we came at you the wrong way.”
“You mean, after the intimidation tricks didn’t work, then you decided to find out who you were chasing?” Kerry commented from Terrors of the High Seas 157
her spot near the doorway.
DeSalliers shot a glance at her and apparently decided the gracious host scam wasn’t working. “Let’s cut to the chase.”
“Finally.” Dar chewed on her sunglasses again, then she sauntered over to the nearest comfortable leather chair and sprawled in it. Kerry caught the almost imperceptible signal and joined her, perching on the chair’s arm.
“Okay.” DeSalliers adapted again, taking the chair across from them. “Here’s the deal.” His entire attitude changed, becoming tough and businesslike. Almost like Dar, in fact. “I have a piece of ocean on which I own the rights of salvage. You dove that piece of ocean and removed something from it. I want it.”
Kerry took the lead. “Okay. First off, you didn’t mark the salvage site.” She ticked off her fingers. “You didn’t post a buoy, you didn’t put up a diver flag, and there were no tags on the wreck.”
He took a sip of his drink. “We were about to.”
“But you didn’t,” Kerry said. “So how were we supposed to know you were going to salvage it? ILS doesn’t hire psychics.”
“That’s not the point,” DeSalliers said with a frown. “The fact is, you were down there.”
“What’s so important about this wreck?” Kerry asked. “I saw it.
It’s an old fishing freighter with more coral than steel.”
“That’s none of your business.”
“Then,” Dar picked up the conversation, “for your records, we picked up a conch shell and brought it topside. You don’t have salvage rights on marine invertebrates or their calciferous exterior structures.”
The man’s fingers drummed nervously on his knee, which jiggled slightly with tension. “I’m very sorry,” he remarked quietly,
“but I don’t believe you.”
“Why not?” Kerry asked suddenly. “Excuse me, but what the hell would we care about marine salvage? We’re nerd sport divers.”
She stood up and paced. “That’s what I don’t understand about this entire scenario. What makes you think we give a rat’s patootie about whatever junk you’re searching for?”
DeSalliers gazed at her through hooded eyes. “Who are you?”
Dar leaned forward and caught his attention. “What are you looking for?” she asked in a low, vibrant tone. “If it’s what we took from the sea, we’ll tell you.”
His dark eyes bored into hers. They stared at each other for a long moment. “I can’t tell you,” DeSalliers finally said.
Dar started to get up. “Waste of time.”
“Ms. Roberts,” he also stood, and held up a hand, “I mean it. I can’t tell you, not won’t.”
“You don’t know what it is,”
Kerry realized. “You have no idea 158 Melissa Good what you’re looking for, do you?”
DeSalliers relaxed back into his chair with a disgusted sigh.
Dar settled back and crossed her ankles. “I’m not getting this.”
She shook her head. “How the hell can you stake a salvage claim on an unknown object?” she asked their host.
He rubbed his temples. “Did you ever get hoisted on your own petard, Ms. Roberts?” he inquired. “Hung out to dry by your own reputation?”
Dar considered the question. “No,” she replied. “Not yet, anyway.”
Kerry walked over and knelt next to his chair, resting her arm near his. “Talk to us, Mr. DeSalliers. Tell us what the heck is really going on. Maybe we can help.” She gave him a quiet, sincere look.
“We’re better friends than enemies, believe me.”
He hesitated, then took a breath, as if to speak.
The door slammed open and one of the guards rushed in. “Sir!
Sir! He’s out there! They’re diving the wreck!”
“Shit.” DeSalliers jumped to his feet. “I’ll kill that little bastard.
Cast off!” He started to leave the cabin, then apparently remembered his guests. “Sorry. Hope you enjoy the ride.”
Dar and Kerry were both on their feet and heading for the door.
DeSalliers popped through it before they could reach it, and the guard slammed it shut, facing them with an air of muscular menace.
“You ladies better sit on down,” the guard said gruffly.
Dar handed Kerry her sunglasses. “I suggest you move,” she replied to the guard in an even tone. “We’re leaving.”
“Sit down,” the guard repeated, pointing.
Dar advanced on him. “Move.” She pinned him with an ice-cold gaze.
“Lady or not, I’m gonna break your ass if you don’t sit down,”
the guard told her.
“Try it.” Dar didn’t miss a beat. She felt her body react to the danger, adrenaline kicking in and bringing a surge of blood to her skin as she came up over her center of balance. The guard was twice her size, but in that moment she could have cared less. He was between her, and safety for her and Kerry, and he was moving. The boat engines rumbled to life. Dar’s hands flexed, and she let the dark energy inside her uncoil as she started for the door.
The guard reached for her, cursing. They grappled briefly, then he threw Dar against the wall, coming after her with one hand extended and the other curled into a fist.
Dar grabbed his hand and swiveled, lashing out with a sidekick that caught him right in the jaw. His head snapped back and she jerked him off balance, then whirled and levered him over her shoulder, throwing him to the floor. With a snort, she grabbed the Terrors of the High Seas 159
door handle and yanked it open, just as Kerry hopped over the stunned man and joined her.
They looked out to see the dock receding, blue water between them and it. Two guards were scrambling toward them. “Feel like a swim?” Dar asked, already starting for the stern railing.
“Anywhere you go, I go.” Kerry dodged an outstretched arm and they both bolted across the deck, hearing DeSalliers’ yell behind them as they leaped to the railing, then dove off together into the churning water.
Chapter
Fourteen
DAR SURFACED, COUGHING to clear her lungs of a hastily mis-swallowed mouthful of seawater. She swiveled around, shaking the hair out of her eyes as she frantically searched for Kerry. A moment later, the blonde woman popped up nearby. Kerry spotted her and swam over with quick, efficient strokes. The water was choppy, and the downpour made it hard to see, but she made it through the swells to Dar’s side. For a moment, they treaded water and just looked at each other. Dar shook her bangs out of her eyes again and squinted through the rain. “C’mon.” She stifled a cough.
“Let’s get to the boat.”
Between the tide, the rain, and the chop, it was a tough swim.
Kerry found herself really missing her fins as she struggled to make progress. A crawl stroke didn’t do much, so she switched to a frogman style of swimming, keeping just her head above water so she could breathe. Her strength, though, started giving out when they were about three quarters of the way back to the docks, and she slowed to catch her breath.
Dar seemed to sense it. She stopped and turned in the water, then swam back to her. “What’s wrong?”
“Tired,” Kerry admitted. “Give me a minute.”
“Hang on.” Dar offered her arm, her legs moving powerfully under the waves and keeping her upright.
“No, it’s okay.” Kerry felt a little better. She started moving forward again. Dar stayed close by her side as they battled inside the seawall, the rain coming down harder and harder. Kerry felt Dar slow just inside the wall, and she reached out to grab onto the rocks, resisting the waves that were trying to bash her against them.“Not much farther.” Dar pointed to the rocking form of their boat, dimly seen through the rain. “Are you all right?”
Kerry felt her second wind kicking in. She nodded positively.
“Yes. Let’s get over there.” She pushed off the wall and started swimming, feeling the strong current fighting her, pulling out with the waning of the tide. Grimly, she pushed against it and kept at Terrors of the High Seas 161
Dar’s shoulder with determined effort. The chop washed over her, making her eyes sting, and she tasted salt in the back of her mouth more than once. Her focus narrowed down to the chilling water, the beat of the rain, and the tall body moving just ahead of her.
Something not water brushed against her, and she felt stringy somethings trail over her body. She jerked and twisted, then gasped as a searing pain across her midriff nearly shocked her senseless.
“Damn.” She held still with great effort, and felt the strings drift off, and then she started forward again, grimacing at the jolts going through her body.
Jellyfish. Kerry cursed under her breath. Just my luck. After a moment, though, the pain faded a little, and she pushed it out of her mind as she struggled on. Her breath was coming short and her muscles were burning painfully when she heard the distinctive sound of the waves slapping against fiberglass nearby. Kerry looked up to see a white surface arcing over her head. She reached out and grabbed the barnacled edge of the dock as she watched her companion approach the side of the boat. With a powerful surge, Dar emerged from the water, arms extended toward the railing that ducked toward her at the last moment and obligingly slapped itself into her hands.
Dar grabbed on and hung there for a moment, visibly gathering her strength. Her wet clothing clung to her body, and Kerry saw her chest expand as she took a deep breath. Her upper body contracted, pulling her up to the railing and then over it, but Kerry could see the effort it took, and given how she herself felt at the moment, considered it a testament to Dar’s very sturdy constitution.
She knew she wasn’t going to be able to duplicate Dar’s feat any time soon, so Kerry pushed off again and stroked for the stern, the lowest part of the boat, where the dive ladder was clamped in place. By the time she got there, she heard the clanks as Dar unhooked the hatch and freed the ladder. The next thing she felt was a light sting as the aluminum tubing hit the water next to her and quickly submerged. Gratefully she grabbed onto the steps, riding the ladder in the chop until the boat dipped again, then getting her feet on the bottom step and pushing upward. Dar’s grip suddenly fastened around her arm and she was unceremoniously hauled aboard the boat, landing on the stern deck in a soggy lump as Dar pulled up the ladder and closed the back hatch.
Buh. Kerry discovered that sitting still was a very good thing.
She didn’t even mind the rain pelting her, rinsing the salt water off her body as she struggled into a cross-legged position. Her arms and legs felt numb and weak; she kept her head down as she rested her elbows on her thighs and simply worked on catching her breath.
Dar dropped down next to her, seemingly just as glad to just
sit 162 Melissa Good still. She extended her long legs out and rested her hands on her knees. “Son of a fucking bitch.”
Kerry’s head lifted and she regarded her lover bemusedly. “Are you thinking maybe next time we should just go to Las Vegas on vacation?”
Blue eyes framed in a mess of dark, wet hair peered at her.
“With my luck, a computer virus would take down the entire city while we were there.” Dar exhaled. “You okay?”
Kerry nodded. “Just wiped. And I think I swallowed half a gallon of salt water. My tongue is pickled.” She raked her hair back out of her face. “Dar, that sucked.”
“Uh huh.” Dar blew out a breath. “Might as well get out of the rain.” With a slight grunt, she pushed herself to her feet and gazed out past the marina entrance. It was hard to fathom what had just happened. One moment they’d been getting somewhere with DeSalliers, the next minute she’d found herself in an almost dangerous situation. Which, she considered thoughtfully, she’d actually handled damn well.
“Dar?”
Dar turned, to find Kerry holding up a hand with a wry expression.
“Mind giving me a tug up?”
Dar clasped her hand and leaned backward, pulling Kerry to her feet. “Wonder who he took off after?” she mused as they moved toward the cabin door and she fished in her pocket for the key.
“Damn, if we’d only had a minute more.”
“Yeah,” Kerry agreed. “We were close. Did you hear what he said, about his reputation? What was that all about, I wonder?”
Dar paused, holding the door open. “Want to go find out?”
Kerry looked up at her. “You mean, go out there after them?”
She watched Dar nod. “That’s totally insane, Dar.” An eyebrow quirked wryly at her. “Let’s do it.”
“Go in and change. I’ll cut us loose.” Dar gave her a pat on the behind, and then disappeared up onto the deck.
“Aye aye, cap’n.” Kerry entered the cabin, shaking her head and chuckling bemusedly. “No one’s gonna believe this,” she told the empty room. They’d brought their things down from the hotel before they’d gone for lunch; their bags and Dar’s laptop were resting on the table where they’d left them.
