Emerald Fire

by Monica McCabe

  Finn moved over to Chloe and held out a hand. Without hesitation, she accepted it, and he pulled her up into his arms. It was a comforting gesture, and she nestled against his chest with a sigh, the warmth of his body quieting her nerves.

  The words she heard this morning floated across her memory. That is a man in love. Her fingers caressed the tiny seashells at her neck. No, she doubted that was true. So why was she thinking about it? Wondering what it would be like to be loved by a man like Finnegan Kane?

  “We’ll get through this, Chloe.”

  She smiled. He’d said that once before, in the dinghy while a tropical storm raged over their heads. She believed him then and she believed him now.

  “Plane will be ready in one hour,” Uncle Jon said after he hung up. “Pack fast. It’s time to get off this rock.”

  Chapter 21

  Seven hours later, a small twin-engine Learjet landed smoothly at a private hanger just outside of Mystic, Connecticut. After the wild ride of the last several days, the flight north was blissfully quiet and uneventful, and Finn soaked up the luxury like a dry sponge. Jonathan had swallowed a pain pill shortly after takeoff and was out for the duration. Chloe dozed off and on in the seat beside Finn as he read the journal for the second time, carefully studying each page. He had jotted down notes and asked the occasional question whenever she stirred, but got no closer to solving the mystery of the emeralds’ location.

  Harder still was the mystery of the woman who sat beside him. She had turned him upside down since the day she stormed into his world. For years he’d been wrapped up in all things NorthStar. Every thought, action, and decision had been for the benefit of the place. Now Chloe had only to walk into a room, and he became distracted.

  Even more alarming was her connection to his family home. She’d never been to NorthStar, never laid eyes on the first building. Yet she was a part of it, linked in a way he didn’t understand. It all came back to the journal. Somehow, someway, theirs was a shared history. The prospect fascinated him; she fascinated him. The problem was that he struggled to separate the two. In a short span of days, Chloe had become every bit as important to him as NorthStar. He liked her. More than that, he wanted her. He’d had his share of casual relationships and one-night stands and had never needed anything more. But one taste of Chloe, and he couldn’t think straight.

  The logical side of him said this was a serious problem. It scared him. He had no intention of jeopardizing all he’d accomplished by letting an infatuation rule his common sense.

  Except he’d been telling himself that since the day he met her, and it hadn’t changed a thing. In fact, his curiosity had only gotten worse since he’d read that blasted journal. Because whether the journal held a secret to riches or not, there were forces of evil who believed it did, and they were on the attack. Pirates and murdering soon-to-be-ex-wives weren’t something he could leave Chloe to face alone.

  If he hadn’t been there this morning… If he hadn’t found her… He didn’t want to think about what could’ve happened. He nearly had lost it when he saw the pirate’s arm around her throat. His heart had stopped beating, and he had gone numb with fear until fury seared his nerve endings with the intensity of a flash fire and ignited an urge to kill.

  She was with him now, and safe. But it wasn’t over. Their harsh reality was clearly spelled out by the bruises on Chloe’s arms and neck. He glanced over at her as she continued to doze in her chair. The dark shadows under her eyes revealed her exhaustion, but he already knew she wouldn’t stop. She had a determination that rivaled his own. Just another thing to like about her, but it also meant she’d continue to find trouble.

  She wouldn’t be truly safe until justice had been delivered, which meant he had to make certain Lisa served hard time for hiring out the murder of the Fire’s crew. Then there was the more immediate threat of Hosea and his band of pirates. He didn’t know if the Dominican Republic would give up their citizens for American law, but he wouldn’t rest until they were put out of commission.

  They were landing. He put away the journal and glanced at Chloe again. Her feet were curled up on the seat as she slept. She looked peaceful, serene, but he knew that was a mask for a tenacious spitfire. Perversely, Jason’s words came back to haunt him. She’s worth fighting for. Jason had seen right through her shields. Why hadn’t he?

  The jet taxied off the tarmac and into a hanger wide enough for three small planes. It had high metal walls, a polished concrete floor, and they shared the space with a two-seater Cessna resting at the other end. When the jet’s engines powered down, Chloe finally stirred.

  “We’re on the ground,” she said in surprise as she peered through the window. “How did I sleep through the landing?”

  “Because this jet is like floating on a cloud. I think I want one.”

  She laughed softly. “It would be a fine addition to NorthStar’s fleet.” With a deep yawn, she stretched her arms above her head, arching her back as much as the seat allowed.

  The enticing display of midriff as her shirt lifted tempted him, and he suddenly had an urge to join the mile-high club. Except they were technically on the ground and a car was waiting. Why hadn’t he thought of that earlier? He’d have to make up for that mistake when they got home.

  “How does your throat feel?”

  “Better. I’ve never been able to sleep on a plane before,” she said with a concerned frown and glanced back at her uncle who still slept in his reclined seat.

  He’d wanted to wake her and point out a few landmarks as they flew into Mystic, but knowing her fear of landing, he let her keep dozing. “You needed it, and he’s on meds,” Finn said, pointing toward Jonathan. “See if you can wake him. We aren’t very far from NorthStar. He’ll be able to get solid rest there.”

  Chloe stood and helped to gather their things before waking her uncle. As they exited the plane, Finn placed a quick call to his dad to let him know he was back in town and bringing guests. After tossing their bags into the back of his SUV, Finn jumped behind the wheel and, within minutes, had them driving down familiar roads.

  No matter how many times he left, coming home always stirred a sense of belonging. Even when he didn’t want it, when he’d left to make his own life elsewhere, it sat there waiting for him. Now it was his life, a necessary part of him. He needed NorthStar as much as it needed him.

  Yet the anticipation of arriving home today had a completely different feel. This time he brought someone with him that had a mysterious connection to his family heritage. Finding out why had become his number one priority, and the best place to do that was at the source.

  “You know, I’ve lived in the Boston area my whole life and never been to Mystic,” Chloe said. “I’ve obviously been deprived. It’s beautiful.”

  Finn smiled. It was why he preferred driving state highways over interstate. He always chose scenic routes over speed, even today when a sense of urgency pushed him. He loved early summer in Connecticut’s countryside. It was a painting of jeweled tones with its intense blue skies, rich tangle of forest, streams, and verdant green meadows. But none of it beat a colorful sunset over the harbor. Some of his favorite memories at NorthStar involved sitting at the end of the dock watching the sun sink into the waters of the sound.

  “I took it for granted far too long,” Finn answered. “I try not to do that anymore.”

  He glanced in the rearview mirror at Jonathan. He’d been quiet on the drive, staring out the side window as though deep in thought. That kind of heavy contemplation worried him. It could be the lingering effect of the painkillers, but Finn doubted it. More like the man was considering his next play. It was what he’d do. But they needed to stay under the radar for now, and that meant not clueing anyone in to their whereabouts, especially Lisa Banks. She might be the man’s wife, but she was also public enemy number one.

  They had enough to arrest her for murder and insurance fraud right now. But prosecution required solid proof
, and that burden fell on them. They needed more if they wanted to put her and her accomplices away for a good long time.

  “How you holding up, Jonathan?” Finn asked.

  “I can’t stand being an invalid much longer.” He’d been sitting sideways, the offending leg stretched out on the seat.

  Finn couldn’t blame him. He hadn’t known Jonathan for long, but he already knew the man wasn’t the type to sit idle. “How are you at strategy?”

  Their eyes met in the rearview mirror. Finn saw frustration in the square set of the man’s shoulders.

  “If you mean coming up with a plan to stop my wife from stealing me dry, then I’m your man. I’ve got to stop the hemorrhage before it’s too late.” His expression darkened, and Finn knew that time was going to be in short supply. Jonathan’s patience was near over.

  “Tonight we’re going to lay everything out,” Finn promised. “List all the players and try to find a solution.”

  Jonathan wasn’t the only one with a future on the line. The bounty money had sunk with the Fire, but he could still succeed in growing NorthStar into tall ship restoration. If he believed in the journal, then he and Chloe were connected beyond the here and now. He intended to help her and Jonathan get through this, and by doing so, maybe it would be his salvation, too.

  “Lisa, Owen, pirates, elusive journal entries.” Chloe counted on her fingers. “Our odds don’t look promising.”

  “No,” Finn agreed. “But we have a couple of advantages. We’re alive, mostly in one piece, and one step ahead of the entire lot.”

  That got a smile out of her. “And we have this.” She held up the journal.

  If NorthStar held a clue in her search for royal emeralds, then tonight should give them a clear indication of their next step.

  Finn turned off the highway onto a county road. They’d been running parallel to a coastline you couldn’t see due to natural forest, but now they were closing the gap. Dusk was gaining ground when he turned by the simple wooden sign he had installed last year, the battery powered lights already spotlighting the word NorthStar emblazoned in gold on a dark background.

  The driveway was wide, but not long. And there was a big curve that gave visitors a sudden view of the office, old house, dry docks, all framed by the shimmer of water. He felt a little tug of pride when he heard Chloe give a small gasp of surprise.

  “All of this is NorthStar?” she asked incredulously.

  “Every last building. We’ll take a tour in the morning if you’d like.”

  She stared at him in wide-eyed amazement. “Yes, I’d like that very much.”

  He realized then how proud of the place he was, of the work he’d done. Every time he came home, laid eyes on the old dry dock and its faded red paint, he took another step toward complete ownership.

  He parked close to the old house for Jonathan’s sake, its ground-floor entry much easier for him to navigate than the steps leading to the newer house up on the hill. As they climbed out of the vehicle, the porch light kicked on, and his dad came out the front door.

  “Make new friends in the Caribbean, son?”

  Chloe stepped up beside Finn and held her hand out to his dad to shake. “Chloe Larson, sir. And this is my uncle, Jonathan Banks. We’re in a bit of trouble, and your son seems to think you can help.”

  His dad beamed. The old coot never could resist a pretty face. “Ronan Kane at your service,” he said, shaking her hand. “Come on inside. I’ve some stew heating on the stove. We can talk.”

  * * * *

  The house had to be well over a hundred years old and full of the kind of charm only historical New England could offer. Chloe soaked in the details with an appreciative eye. It had hardwood floors, a stone fireplace, built-in shelving full of books and mementos, arched doorways, and an eclectic mix of new and antique furniture. Nautical décor graced every room, along with a scattering of newspapers, technical magazines, and old family pictures. Best of all, it smelled of lemon beeswax and sea salt. It was masculine, comfortable, clean, and Chloe loved it.

  Ronan ushered them into a surprisingly modern kitchen and dining area, divided by a narrow island and lighted by a long bank of windows, or would be if it wasn’t evening. The center windows were recessed with a long padded bench seat and storage cubbies tucked beneath. A well-worn trestle table with a look of reclaimed lumber was covered with a stack of bowls, spoons, and a loaf of fresh warm bread. Her stomach growled as Ronan carried over a pot that had been heating on the stove.

  “My special Brunswick stew recipe,” Ronan declared. “Extra potatoes, so it’ll stick to your ribs. Should work miracles to help strengthen you up. And from the look of things, all of you need it.”

  He started ladling out hearty meat and vegetables in a thick sauce, and as each bowl was handed down, a savory aroma drifted around them. Chloe breathed deep, the scent alone shoring her up.

  “Must have been a helluva fight,” Ronan continued. “The three of you have more bruises than a body has a right. How about we start at the beginning?”

  As they dug into some of the best stew Chloe ever tasted, Finn relayed the story of Lisa Banks and her treachery, the pirates who stole the Emerald Fire, and how Chloe and Finn met in St. Lucia. They were well into their second bowl when Finn told him about stealing the yacht back from pirates and their headlong rush to escape. Ronan gave an occasional exclamation of approval, sometimes shock or dismay, but when Finn got to the part about scuttling the Fire off the coast of Turks & Caicos, he let loose a blue streak that left no doubt of an Irish temper.

  “You sank a ten-million dollar Sunseeker?” Ronan looked thunderstruck. “Have you people all lost your mind?”

  “Pirates were on board at the time,” Uncle Jon stated. “I wasn’t letting the bastards have my ship. Seemed like a good idea to flush them.”

  Ronan shook his head. “What a blasted waste. Breaks my heart to think of a beauty like that intentionally sent to the deep.”

  “It saved our lives,” Uncle Jon said simply.

  And it had, but Chloe completely agreed with Finn’s dad. She fervently wished there had been another solution.

  Finn helped himself to another slice of the fresh bread and spread it with butter. “It wasn’t painless by any means. Chloe and Jonathan were hurt in the process, but we escaped and got picked up by a research vessel.” He took a bite of the bread and washed it down with more stew.

  “They dropped us off in the Bahamas,” Chloe continued for Finn as he ate. “But the pirates had tracked us. At the straw market in Freeport they grabbed me, threatened bodily harm if we didn’t pay them two-million to make up for the loss of their ill-gotten gains.”

  Ronan glanced straight at his son. “You let them get away with that?”

  “When I found them, one had Chloe by the throat,” Finn replied. “I handled the situation. Hopefully I broke the leader’s jaw and the other fled like a coward. But it’s not over. They will try again.”

  “Is that why you’ve come here? To lay low?” Ronan asked.

  “Partly,” Finn agreed. “We need some time to solve an old mystery. One that involves NorthStar, and I hope you can help.”

  His dad raised one brow inquiringly. “Pirates and a mystery at NorthStar? This is getting interesting. You’ve got my attention.”

  “It’s a long story,” Chloe began to explain. “One that goes all the way back to Napoleon’s invasion of Prussia.” She told Ronan everything she’d revealed to Finn back on the Seagrove. She detailed the queen’s depression after the war, the love child, and William Desmond’s role in the deception.

  Ronan refilled her wine glass. “So he spent his whole life in America hiding a secret?”

  “Yes,” Chloe replied. “He vowed never to reveal the truth of his daughter’s lineage and took it with him to his grave.”

  “How did you find out?” Ronan asked, clearly hooked.

  Chloe had finished her meal and relaxed back i
n her chair. Another piece of the puzzle was about to come into play, and she took a fortifying sip of her wine. “I didn’t know it at the time, but my mother had been researching my father’s family. She had gathered quite a bit of information, but never said a word. I didn’t discover it until after my parents were killed in a plane crash. I was fifteen.”

  A sudden lump tightened her throat, and she hesitated, but her uncle picked up the story. “Chloe came to live with me after that. Six months later, we were packing up my sister’s house when we found a box containing dozens of documents, books, and old photographs that she’d collected. We took it home to look through later.”

  “I didn’t think much of it at first,” Chloe began again. “Dad’s family always believed that William Desmond was our ancestor, and many of the documents proved that true. But then I started seeing inconsistencies. Mom obviously did, too, because she kept digging. Then, right before the plane crash, she’d made a purchase from an auction house. A two-hundred-year-old journal belonging to W.A. Desmond.”

  Silence filled the kitchen for the space of a few heartbeats as Ronan stared at the three of them. “I take it this is significant?”

  “You could say that,” Finn replied as he stood and gathered the dishes. “Why don’t you grab the journal, Chloe. Let’s show him.”

  While she dug in her backpack for the book, Finn cleared the table to give them room. When they all settled back down, Chloe opened the diary and began carefully flipping pages. She pointed out Desmond’s slow decline, his heartache over the strained relationship with his daughter, and his grief over her untimely death.

  They’d reached the part where she had to reveal all. The moment of truth. If she wanted to get any farther in this quest, she had to give up control of the secret. The prospect unnerved her. More than once, she suspected Desmond’s paranoia had managed to infect her. Secrecy had become her normal.

  She looked around at the people in the room. Uncle Jon had always been on her side. Lisa had interfered with that some, but no more. Finn was a wild card, but she trusted him. He’d saved their lives. Technically, he’d saved hers twice. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t in this just for the money. Priceless emeralds had a way of doing that to people.