Rough Waters

by Maggie Toussaint

  He checked the rearview mirror again. No tail. They’d made a clean getaway. Jeanie had sworn her cop friend to secrecy, not trusting anyone else with their whereabouts.

  The only way to reunite this family was to find his stolen treasure. No matter how he looked at the chain of events, he arrived at the same conclusion every time. Avery Munro had stolen his coins.

  Rock needed Munro’s phone number, which he could get from Jeanie if he asked, but he’d have to explain everything to her. He could get it from her phone in a heartbeat, but he refused to betray her in that way. His grip tightened on the steering wheel. Either he was getting soft, or Jeanie and her family were getting under his skin. Would she hate him when she learned his ulterior motive in getting to know her? How he’d orchestrated their first meeting? Their encounters from the start?

  Would she toss him out on his ear in disgust?

  He didn’t want that. He wanted a chance with her. Maybe somewhere down the line, when all of this was over with. She gave him a sense of purpose. Right now his purpose was to keep her safe.

  The only other lead he had to his missing property was Palamiri. His gut twisted at the thought of Palamiri in Jeanie’s house. Of Palamiri’s grubby hands pawing through Jeanie’s things. He dialed information and asked to be connected to the Queen’s Plantation. No answer from his rival’s hotel room. Anger tightened Rock’s throat. He waited for the tone to leave a voice mail message. “Palamiri? Mackenzie. I don’t have what you’re looking for. Terrorizing little children, that’s a low blow even for you. Let’s talk.” He fired off his cell number and hung up.

  How much did the charter captain know?

  Rock hadn’t left information about the venture lying around. He hadn’t even let his business partner copy the family journal account of the Clarissa’s sinking. The journal resided in a safe deposit box, and Rock had the only key. He didn’t want to chance a copy falling into the wrong hands. The Clarissa was his to find.

  Who else knew his intentions?

  No one. He’d been discreet.

  His blood chilled as a possibility occurred to him.

  Bankers. He’d tried to borrow from several institutions before he read the writing on the wall. No assets, no loan. Drake Tarpley had been living with him back then, and they’d passed many an evening speculating about the wreck’s potential. At Tarp’s urging, Rock had gone to Lyle for money. Tarp had set up the appointment. Rock knew now what he should have wondered then. How did a drifter like Drake Tarpley get an appointment with a mover and shaker like Wendell Huntley Lyle, III?

  By then, though, Rock hadn’t needed much to egg him on. He’d been hit hard by the treasure bug after burying his mother. Blinded to the risks of borrowing a lot of money, he didn’t see trouble coming. But someone knew his plans. Someone with inside information.

  Who?

  Rock had provided Lyle with regular progress reports on the treasure hunt. Munro had snooped in the windows of Rock’s place. Palamiri seemed to know Rock’s business before Rock did.

  Palamiri again.

  His rival had stolen fishing charters from Rock like clockwork, hampering Rock’s ability to repay the loan. Palamiri had also dropped wads of cash in the waterfront taverns, more than a charter captain made. Rock’s gut told him there was more to Vince Palamiri than met the eye. How did his rival know so much about Rock’s business dealings? Horns blared.

  Rock jerked the wheel back into his lane, stunned to see he’d let the sedan drift across the dotted lines on the road.

  Moments later, his phone rang. “You all right back there?” Jeanie asked.

  “Lost in thought. It won’t happen again.”

  “Better not. I’m counting on your help.”

  “I’m alert and paying attention to the road now.”

  She exhaled heavily into the phone. “You do that a lot? Daydream?”

  “Everyone has dreams.”

  “What are yours?”

  His voice roughened. “I’m looking for my dream.”

  “You already have one? A specific one? Care to share?”

  “Soon. I’m still figuring stuff out.”

  Silence buzzed in the line. “A guy with a goal. Imagine that.”

  He settled in his seat, phone to his ear. “What about you? Do you have goals?”

  “Mine are more immediate. Keep a roof over our heads. Be a good mom. Survive each day. That sort of thing.”

  Her goals were tangible. She wasn’t chasing after stolen treasure or potential riches. She was doing the hard work of raising a family. Alone. And doing a fine job of it.

  A blue SUV sped past their two car caravan. A red pickup followed. “You’re a great mom. You put your kids’ welfare first. Not all women do.”

  “I love my kids, don’t get me wrong. But sometimes I wonder what it would be like to be free to make different choices.”

  “You have regrets?”

  “What if I was supposed to cure cancer? What if I was supposed to be an astronaut? Let’s face it. Those ships have sailed.”

  Rock thought of the military avenues he could have pursued, the freelance ones as well. His affinity for hunting had been highly valued in the service. But he’d understood something the Navy hadn’t. Enjoying the hunt and hunting people were two very different animals.

  Aware of the yawning silence, he spoke his heart. “You made the best decisions you could at the time. Who’s to say those were the wrong decisions for you? Everyone’s journey is different. Speaking of which, you should stay in St. Augustine with your family.”

  “Think again.”

  He ignored her sharp tone. “We don’t know who is responsible for these burglaries. The danger is real. Let the police figure out what’s happening in Mossy Bog.”

  “I didn’t figure you for a repeater, yet here you are, repeating yourself.” Annoyance laced her voice.

  “Fuss all you want. Safety is hardwired into my makeup.”

  “You wear makeup?”

  Rock grinned into the phone, thought of the blackface he’d worn on missions, and wished they were in the same vehicle. She made him feel good about himself and his choices. “I have on occasion.”

  “Do tell. And do you have any tattoos I should know about?”

  He laughed outright. “You’re confusing me with Popeye.”

  Her low answering chuckle stirred his blood. “I don’t think so. But tell me a story. A good one. About you.”

  Tires droned on the interstate as he thought for a bit. “I sang in the church choir once upon a time.”

  “Sing me something.”

  “One day.” He hadn’t felt like singing any hymns in a long time, but darned if a song wasn’t brimming in heart right now, despite the challenges ahead.

  “Hang on a sec.” He heard the murmur of soft voices until she spoke again. “We’re close. A few turns coming up. Stay close.”

  “I will.”

  Chapter 25

  The billboards near Brunswick, Georgia, glowed like familiar beacons. Only a few more exits until home, but Jeanie wasn’t going home. She was headed to Rock’s place because of the break-ins.

  She scrubbed her face with her hands, trying to summon energy and alertness, but came up empty. Kissing her sleeping kids goodbye in St. Augustine had sapped the last of her reserves. The power nap she’d awakened from at midnight hadn’t revved her engines either.

  She felt worse. Stiff. Sore. Stupid.

  “I need pancakes,” she said to Rock, who drove her van like he was on a serious mission. “Big, fluffy pancakes.”

  “I could use a cup of coffee.” He exited the interstate and found a breakfast place. “This okay?”

  She nodded, surprised he was offering her a choice. Avery used to choose their meal stops without taking her into consideration.

  They settled into a snug booth across from each other near the juke box and ordered with little fuss. A large stack of pancakes and hot tea for her. Coffee and a ham omelet for him.

&n
bsp; Once the waitress brought the beverages, Jeanie fixed Rock with her gaze. “From the start, you’ve kept your cards close to your vest. I’m involved now, and I deserve answers. What’s your story?”

  He shifted in his seat, his leg brushing against hers. “You want to do this here? Now?”

  Energy surged from the contact, adding sensual awareness to her exhaustion and confusion. Not a good idea.

  She curled her legs to the side, away from him. “I don’t recognize the three people who work here, nor the two Mensa candidates at the counter. This is as anonymous as it gets in coastal Georgia.”

  He studied her for a long moment, then exhaled in a whoosh of air. “All right. Your troubles and mine might stem from the same cause. I chose Mossy Bog because your ex told me how beautiful and remote it was.” Rock stopped to sip his coffee. “I also came here to find Munro.”

  Her gut clenched. No matter how divorced she was, her ex-husband still managed to impact her life. “Why?”

  “He took something of mine. Something valuable. I have no proof, only coincidences which don’t add up. The burglaries suggest someone else has reached the same conclusion.”

  “Wait. My shop and home were destroyed because of you?”

  “Maybe.”

  Getting information from Rock was like pulling teeth. “What are they looking for?”

  “Three coins and a small wooden chest.”

  “Coins? I had lots of coins in the shop and at home. Why didn’t they take every coin I own?”

  “I’ll bet they did.”

  Her cheeks burned. He had no right to feed her information bit by bit. Jeanie drew herself up. “They stole my cash register. I kept fifty dollars in bills and coins in it. I didn’t check to see if they took my coin jar from my bedroom closet, but I’ll look when we get back.”

  “We’ll check together.”

  She worked to unclench her jaw. “Why should I trust you? Especially when you don’t trust me?”

  “I want to protect you.”

  “From Avery?”

  “I’m certain Munro is involved. He brought this trouble to your door. Not me.”

  “You think Avery stole from you? Why?”

  “He worked at Bayside Marina where I docked my boat, and he temped for the landscaping company that mowed my place. I think he knows what happened.”

  “Three years ago I would have said no way, but my ex isn’t the man I thought he was. He disappointed me by being a deadbeat and abandoning me and the kids. Now you think he’s a crook?”

  “I don’t believe in coincidences. He had the opportunity to know about my find. I may be grasping at straws, but that’s because I don’t have much else.”

  “Avery? A thief? I don’t want to believe that, but I haven’t heard from him in months. He used to call and ask to talk to the kids. He doesn’t even do that anymore.”

  The waitress came and refilled Rock’s coffee and brought Jeanie another mug of tea. Jeanie was glad for the break in conversation. She didn’t want to dwell more on Avery’s failures.

  “What’s the big deal with the coins?” Jeanie asked when they were alone again.

  Rock’s eyes flashed and darkened to a midnight blue. For a moment, she thought she’d pushed him too far. Too bad. She had her kids to think about. If he didn’t come clean right now, they were done before they even began, and given how sexy he was looking, that would be a shame.

  “We found them in a small jewelry chest on a dive.” He leaned forward across the booth and spoke softly. “They’re made of gold. From a British ship I believe sank in the 1800s.”

  “So? Why don’t you go find more?”

  He looked dumbfounded. What had she said? Wasn’t the solution obvious to him? If the coins were out there on the ocean floor, why didn’t he go harvest another handful?

  “It isn’t so straightforward.” His normally strong voice wavered, his expression tightened. “My boat and dive gear are gone. My diving buddy and business partner died when the boat sank. Whoever wants the gold sovereigns has already killed for them. Diving for more, even if I could find them, isn’t worth my life. And I don’t trust anyone from my time at the North Carolina shore.”

  Blood pounded in Jeanie’s temples. She wished the ground would swallow her whole for shooting off her mouth. Rock had lost so much. His friend. His business. He’d nearly lost his life. This was serious. No wonder Rock had pushed so hard to get her and the kids out of town. If anything happened to Nathaniel or Sable, she’d die. Absolutely die.

  She tried to speak but nothing came out. She sipped her tea and gagged. She’d forgotten to sweeten it. Her mind whirred as she added honey and stirred.

  Her burglaries could easily be about the stupid sovereigns. About Avery. About trouble she didn’t want and didn’t need. Emotions warred inside her. She could rail against the circumstances that had brought this problem to her door, but she wasn’t that frightened victim anymore. She had a family to protect and a life to live. Experience had taught her sitting back and waiting for situations to resolve naturally didn’t suit her. The need to take action thrummed in her blood.

  If her burglaries were related to Rock’s missing coins, she needed to learn more about the coins. But first she needed to mend fences.

  “I’m so sorry for bringing up that memory. Your accident was horrific.” She reached for a napkin, needing something to occupy her hands.

  “It’s over. It’s all right.”

  “I didn’t realize you’d lost a friend. I feel awful for sounding so flippant.”

  “Really. It’s okay.”

  “Do you want to talk about it? You must really miss him.”

  Rock hesitated for so long Jeanie thought he was never going to answer. She was just starting to feel embarrassed for putting herself out there like that when he said slowly, “I do miss him. Tarp and I went way back.” Rock stared into his coffee. “He didn’t deserve what happened.”

  Unable to stop herself, Jeanie reached across the table to touch his arm in compassion. “I don’t know what I’d do if one of my friends died suddenly. I’d be an emotional wreck.”

  His arm was rigid under hers. She could have mistaken it for solid steel. “I haven’t talked about Tarp since the memorial service. I’d rather we talk about recovering the coins.”

  “Sure.” She gave his arm a reassuring squeeze. “How did you get into treasure hunting?”

  He stared out the window at the lighted parking lot before meeting her gaze. “I’ve been interested in it for as long as I can remember, but it was always a dream. I knew how to dive and I knew how to run a boat, but it was only after I settled on the North Carolina coast that the treasure bug bit me.”

  “How did you decide where to dive?”

  “I found a family journal in my mother’s papers when I settled her estate. The details gave me an inside track on the ship’s final location. Time and tide tore up the hull so the spoils were scattered on the ocean floor.”

  Heavy coins in a chest wouldn’t move much. “Take the insurance money and start over. You found the wreck once. Try again.”

  He met her gaze and looked away. The silence ate at her. Had she stuck her foot in her mouth? “What?”

  “Treasure hunting is a big deal. Competitive and costly. People have combed the waters of the Outer Banks for years, and other than this one journal, I’ve never seen any mention of the Clarissa going down.”

  “And?”

  “I borrowed money to finance the project,” he said. “The coins are the investor’s property, not mine. I need them back by month’s end to repay the loan or else I have to forfeit the journal.”

  A puzzle piece connected in her mind. “You moved to Mossy Bog to find Avery. To get those gold coins back.”

  His blue eyes widened and narrowed. Was that alarm? It was. Avery wasn’t in Mossy Bog. Hadn’t been in a long time. Another puzzle piece clicked. “You moved here to find me. To use me.”

  He glanced around the quiet restaura
nt. “Keep your voice down.”

  “I most certainly will not. I can’t believe this. Did you plan to search my place before or after you slept with me?”

  The cup in his hand clattered to the waiting saucer. He mopped up the spilled coffee with napkins. “That’s a trick question if I ever heard one,” he muttered. “I came here to find the coins. Guilty as charged. But now that we’ve met, you’re the best part of this whole deal. I want to spend time with you. I want to get to know you. Most of all, I need to keep you safe.”

  He reached across the booth for her hand. She jerked it away. “Leave me out of this. I don’t know anything about your coins or Avery.”

  Something dangerous flashed in his eyes. His facial scar darkened. He leaned back in the booth, his good hand curled into a fist on the table. “Like it or not, you’ve been targeted. Someone else made the same connection I made.”

  “Why? Avery hasn’t been around me or the kids. He’s been too busy with his girlfriend. He didn’t even call at Christmas.”

  “Did he call any other time during the last few months? Maybe say something cryptic?”

  “Avery doesn’t have a cryptic bone in his body. He’s ducked my calls for months. He owes me child support.”

  “Any chance he slipped the coins into your house or shop for safekeeping?”

  “If he did, and boy that’s a long shot, he wouldn’t tell me. But the coins aren’t at either place. Someone already searched my home and my business.” She noted the intent expression on Rock’s face. “You want to search my house, don’t you?”

  “I do, but I won’t do it without your permission. I won’t invade your privacy.”

  He’d done worse. He’d invaded her dreams. “Avery did plenty of screwball things, but stealing coins tops the gator farm idea, the scallop plant money pit, and Green Acres, which were desert dry. He’s not the man I married.”

  “People change.”

  Rock’s conciliatory tone irked her. Her right leg jangled. She pressed it to keep the shakes at bay. The clatter of dishes and sizzle of the grill faded out. “Are you on his side?”

  “I don’t approve of his treatment of you and the kids. The Avery Munro I met in North Carolina didn’t take care with his appearance or his belongings. He hung out in bars. He moved three times in the six months I knew him. He talked a big game, always shooting off about making a big score.”