Treasure Tides (The Coins)
Page 2
Becki concentrated on guiding the boat back toward the marina. She loved her sister, but Jonah? Not so much. Together, they could wear you out like no other. There was no way Natie could be happy with him. As high-school sweet hearts, they had been a cute couple, one of the in crowd. The fire had dimmed somewhere around the time that Natie had caught Jonah with their mutual friend Rena. Why they continued to torture each other remained a mystery to everyone. Break-up, make-up seemed to be the theme of their relationship. Their life was nothing but drama, drama, drama. Natie, with her natural charisma, collected admirers everywhere she went, which in turn tended to make Jonah jealous. She loved to look good and thrived on attention, but Natie was a one-man-woman. Unfortunately, Jonah was that one man.
Becki checked the time. Her shift started at six o’clock this evening, so there was no way she could clean off the boat right now. Chances were good that she could talk Landon into meeting her at the marina after work to pick up the crate and her diving gear.
“Have fun tonight, and give me a call after your pedicure and seaweed wrap. You know that appointment is way too early for me,” Becki said as she hugged Natie. By-passing Jonah, she rushed to the parking lot and quickly climbed into her cute little yellow sports car. The car had been a gift from her parents and was just perfect for zipping around town. The down side was the lack of cargo space, definitely not enough room for the crate. She waved at the couple as she zoomed past them.
“Anything before noon is too early for you!” Natie yelled. This was so true. Becki enjoyed nothing more than lazing in bed in the morning. Too bad there hadn’t been anyone she wanted to ‘laze’ with lately. Where was her dream man anyway?
#
“Royce. Are you there? Royce? Come on man, answer me. Royce!” What have those Witches done? Royce wondered. Now I’m hearing voices. Could it get any worse?
“Royce. It’s me, Sean.” Royce wrinkled his brow. That voice sounded
awfully real.
“I know you hear me man, respond!”
He couldn’t even think straight, much less respond. That sounded a
lot like his Techno-Expert, Sean.
“Royce, your watch is a video transmitter. Talk to me.”
Glancing in the direction of his wrist, Royce saw a glow. Angling his
wrist to get a better look, which was not easy in the confined space, he
saw Sean’s goofy face on the screen of his watch.
“It’s about time, I was getting worried,” Sean complained with a grin. “Worried? How long have I been MIA?” Royce croaked. His throat
was dry, but at least the drum beat in his head was subsiding. Note to self;
next time you leave for a quick snatch & grab mission, stick some pain killers in
your pocket. “You do have someone on the way to get me out of this
damn box, right?”
“Sure thing boss, help is on the way,” Sean answered, seeming less
than confident.
“So, how long have I been in here? The days have run together,”
Royce asked again.
“It’s been--, well, right at twenty-three months since you dropped off
the radar,” Sean answered hesitantly. “Wait till Joanna finds out. When
the alarm tripped on the tracking system earlier, I thought it was a false
reading,” he continued more enthusiastically.
“Come again?” Royce roared. “Did you say twenty-three months?” “Well--, yes; but, we never gave up hope! We knew you would
surface eventually.”
“Eventually? Twenty-three months, that’s two years!”
“Not quite,” Sean inserted quietly.
“What the hell have you been doing? You have the best technology
in the world at your disposal, and you haven’t been able to find me in the
last two years? I’ve been in this box for two damn years?” Royce’s temper
was quickly reaching the boiling point. He banged angrily on the sides of
the crate with his fists, and although it moved slightly, it would not open. “Hey man, calm down,” Sean soothed. “You’ve been in a box? So
that’s how they did it.”
“They who?”
“That is still a mystery. But, we suspect the Witches.”
“Ya think?” Royce responded sarcastically.
“I’m showing your location just outside of Charleston, South
Carolina.” Royce could hear the keyboard clicking as Sean typed
furiously. “It looks like a marina.”
“No shit Sean, marinas are normally located close to large bodies of
water. Like the one I’ve been hanging out in, trapped in a box, for the last
two blasted years.” Royce was yelling now, his voice getting stronger and
louder.
This was the voice Sean knew; the voice that made his team quake in
their boots when someone screwed up. Each member of the team,
hand-picked personally by Royce, knew that mistakes were not tolerated.
Mistakes in this line of work could result in death; yours, another
member of the team, or worse yet; the death of an innocent. Mistakes
could also, it seemed, put you at the bottom of the ocean for indefinite
periods of time. Royce took a breath, held it for a moment, and then
released it in a rush. He had made a big mistake, committed the cardinal
sin by relaxing his guard. That did not sit well with him. Thank God he
had been the only one to pay the price, this time.
“The crate is spelled, Royce. That’s why we couldn’t track you,” Sean
explained. “Your last known location was just off Battery Park twentythree months ago. We dispatched a recovery team immediately, but
there was a storm, and we lost the signal.” He breathed a sigh of relief.
“I’m so glad you are ok. But-- you did have a great funeral,” Sean added
quietly.
“You had a funeral?” Royce asked, chuckling. “Well, I’m not dead
you idiot, so get your ass down here, and get me out of this damn box!” Royce, who normally did not mind confined spaces, was beginning to
feel a little claustrophobic. He needed a drink, a cigarette, and a woman,
in that order. He pounded again on the sides and lid of the crate, testing
for weakness, looking for a way out. How did they even sandwich his
body into this thing? He frowned, noticing that his body was not really
all that solid. It was, in fact, almost transparent. “Damn Witches,”
Royce muttered.
“We had to have a funeral Royce,” Sean explained. “We knew you
would resurface, but for everyone else--, you know we had to do it. By
the way, the Wicked Witch of the West is on her way. She has a ‘few things’
to talk to you about.” Sean didn’t envy Royce this particular bit of family
business, especially as pissed as she was at the moment.
“Don’t tell me-- Joanna?” Royce groaned. “You just had to call her,
didn’t you?” His head began to pound again.
Joanna was a valuable member of ART; she was also his sister. She
would yell at him for getting caught, little sparks of angry blue light shooting from her eyes. After she got that out of her system, she would fling her arms around him and hug him too tightly making him promise never to do something like that again. Royce really hoped they could
skip the crying part of the reunion, he hated crying.
Joanna’s mother had married Royce’s father when Joanna was two
years old. Royce had spent the last 20 years of his life watching over
her, trying to keep her safe; which was not an easy task when it came
to Joanna. Her special skills had started to manifest around age three.
Royce, who was at that time a teenager, hadn’t known that Witches
truly did exist. He certainly hadn’t known his father’s beautiful new
bride was a Witch. He also had no clue that his father was leading a
special division of warriors who worked with a secret council to keep
the planet in balance.
Royce grew up quickly that summer. He learned that the world
was full of things that could not be seen or heard, but could be felt, if
you were paying close enough attention. He was a natural at paying
attention, so he chose to follow in his father’s footsteps to serve the
Secret Council of Elders. After many intense conversations with his
father, Aaron, and step-mother, Tammy, Royce began training with
ART while he finished school. He kept a close eye on his baby sister,
sometimes studying in her room while she played or napped. When
Joanna started floating objects and making things disappear, it had
been quite a shock; however the day she got mad and turned him into
a goat had been the worst day of his life. Her teen years had been a
challenge for them all, because teenage Witches could experience
horrific mood swings.
Joanna also joined the team as soon as she could talk her parents
into it. Of course, she used the argument that Royce would be there
to take care of her, and she could help take care of him. “Taking
care” translated to “meddling in”, and she often pushed the
boundaries of her power if she suspected he was in danger. He
loved Joanna more than anything in the world and couldn’t wait to
see her.
Joanna’s mother, Tammy, had retired from the Secret Council at the
same time his father retired from the Special Ops team about five years
ago-- well, actually seven years ago. Royce could not believe he had
been gone for almost two years. Aaron and Tammy now spent their
time traveling and making their own adventures. Maybe he should get
in touch with Tammy and his father to act as a buffer until Joanna
calmed down. This time, he thought, she might actually turn him into a
“braying ass” as she had threatened to do so many times.
Sean sighed, “She was more-than-pissed that I lost you. I’m trying to get back in her good graces. She said she is on her way back to the States and mentioned something about Eeyore, but I didn’t catch it all.”
“Great.”
“I called your parents too. They said to give you their love and they would see you soon. Tammy wanted to come right away, but Aaron said they would let you get your bearings first.” Still typing at warp-speed, Sean reassured him, “I’m assembling a recon team Royce, so just hang in there. It might take a few days before we can get to you. The coin that surfaced in Rio turned out to be very tedious, so everyone has been dispatched to bring it in. The Council doesn’t want to take any chances. Evidently this one is particularly nasty.”
Royce started to ask for details on the ‘nasty’ coin, but he could hear voices approaching. Details would have to wait until he got out of this box, which he hoped would be sometime very soon.
“Someone is approaching, we’ll discuss it later.” He whispered to Sean. However, there was one tidbit of information that wouldn’t wait, “Do you have any idea when this thing will open?”
“It seems to be connected with the tide or moon. I’m not sure, but I’m working on it.”
“Work faster, damn it,” Royce instructed, clenching his jaw tightly.
# “Thanks for coming out here with me Landon.” A female voice filtered through the crate.
That sounded like the girl who found him earlier today-- Becki? He owed her, for the accidental rescue. He would have to send flowers from an anonymous admirer.
“I know it’s late, but I wanted to get my gear home and cleaned up tonight. Uncle Kurt would kill me if I waited ‘til tomorrow.” She puffed out her chest and spoke in a deep voice, imitating her uncle, “Your diving gear is your lifeline. Treat it that way,” she said with a scowl. Immediately a smile replaced the mock scowl, “I’ve heard the lecture a hundred times, so thanks for the save.”
Landon flashed a dimple, “You know he just wants you to be safe.”
Landon was quite the lady’s man, with thick muscles, blond hair, and baby blue eyes that almost danced. He was the stuff dreams were made of. Landon and Kurt had been friends most of their adult lives. As surrogate Uncle to Kurt’s three daughters, he had immediately included Becki in that category when she moved in with her uncle last year. Becki normally worked the late shift, so it was nice to have a night-owl like Landon around when she needed the odd “late-night rescue”.
Landon had just closed down the One-Eyed Parrot. He had spent the last two hours trying to dodge the blond, busty, female barracuda circling the bar. He knew with certainty that he didn’t want her to catch him, even if her husband was paying more attention to his poker hand than he was to his wife. Becki’s call had come in the nick of time giving Landon a way to bow out gracefully.
Landon had never been married and did not have children of his own. Someday, he hoped to meet his mate, but right now he was enjoying his freedom and having fun. Landon’s kind mated for life, so he didn’t mind playing the field for the time being; there was no need to rush into anything. He would go to the ends of the Earth for Kurt’s girls, which now included Becki. Tonight’s rescue was not an inconvenience to him.
Clarissa, the oldest of Kurt’s three daughters, recently turned sixteen and started dating. Her first date had sent Kurt and Landon into a panic, and ok--, perhaps they hadn’t handled it in the best way-; the night had ended with Clarissa stomping up the stairs and threating to move away. It seems that her date took offense to the camo gear and firearms strapped to their chests.
Kurt’s younger girls, Leann age fourteen and Mandy twelve, were sure to be heart breakers as well. Maybe they would get it figured out before Leann started dating, but neither of them was willing to make any promises.
Becki, Kurt’s twenty-two year old niece, had recently moved to South Carolina. Her mother had laughed and told them that Becki was “their practice run”, a chance to watch over and worry about someone who is reaching for independence. It was a much more difficult job than they had thought it would be.
“I just love it here,” Becki said stepping off the pier and onto her boat, left foot first. “I’m so glad I have family-- and great friends-- to help out in my times of need. Thanks again,” Becki said as she gave Landon a quick hug.
“There it is,” she said motioning toward the crate. “Could we put it in your truck and drop it by my house?” Becki asked. “I’m pretty sure it won’t fit in my car.”
“That’s no surprise. Not much will fit in that little clown car,” Landon said, as he sized up the crate.
“Hey, be nice to Bee. I look hot driving her,” Becki said laughing as she slugged him on the shoulder.
Leaving the crate to Landon, Becki turned to start gathering her dive gear. She and Jonah had been looking for shark’s teeth, but didn’t score any today. Local shop owners loved to get sharks’ teeth because they were a big hit with tourists. She had found a Megalodon tooth that had sold for over two-hundred dollars. Hunting for teeth was a hobby for Becki. It was like an underwater Easter egg hunt, and the fact that she could make money doing something she loved was a bonus.
“What do you have in here anyway, a body? It’s heavy,” Landon groaned as he tested the weight of the box. He could have carried the thing all the way home in one hand but didn’t want Becki to know the extent of his strength. It would lead to questions he did not want to answer.
“Don’t be such a sissy; use those big muscles. I put it on the boat myself it’s not that heavy,” Becki scoffed.
Seriously, what is wrong with him? Becki rolled her eyes as she watched him stride away. He didn’t seem to have trouble lifting kegs of beer, and they were heavier than that crate! Becki would just load it in his truck herself, while he was tracking down Jack and the cart.
As she moved toward the crate, she heard a voice saying “Move faster, damn it”. She looked around, but didn’t see anyone. Ok, that was kind of creepy, but sound does travel funny on the water, she told herself. Landon would be back any second--, she hoped.
Becki grabbed a hold of the crate and started to pick it up only to find that she could not budge it. “Shit, this thing is heavy,” she said out loud.
It was certainly heavier than she remembered. Frowning, she wondered how she was able to heave it into the boat earlier. Maybe it was just waterlogged now. Suddenly her cell phone vibrated, signaling an incoming call. Her sister’s picture flashed on the display.
“Oh no, now what?” she muttered as she lifted the phone to her ear, “Natie? Hello?”
“I’m so sick of his ass,” Natie mumbled.
Becki heard her sister sniffing and knew she was crying, again, over that idiot.
“He thinks he can just do whatever he wants, and I should be ok with it. He gets mad when I ask where he is going and what he is doing, but is it any wonder I don’t trust him! He’s been texting someone all evening. I know it’s that bimbo from the restaurant downstairs.”
“Oh Natie, I’m sorry. Do you want me to come over?” Becki offered.
“No,” Natie answered, “you don’t need to come all the way downtown.”
“I know you’re probably not in the mood to hear this, but you deserve better than that jerk,” Becki said, feeling her face turn red with anger. “I would dump his lame ass in a hot minute.”
“I know,” Natie sniffed again. “Well, I hear him swiping the key card now. He’s probably so drunk he has it in backwards. I need to go let him in before he wakes up everyone else in the hotel.”
“Yes, it would be a shame if he was arrested for public intox,” Becki agreed, wanting nothing more than to drive downtown and beat his head in.