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Pirate's Passion (Sentinels of Savannah)

Page 14

by Lisa Kessler


  Keegan stared out the window, his gut clenching. John was right, but Keegan didn’t have to like it. “The arrogant bastard doesn’t deserve another swallow from that cup.”

  “Maybe not, but without him, none of us may ever taste those waters again.”

  “Fine.” Keegan rubbed his forehead. “Call the captain, too. He probably can’t make it on such short notice anyway.”

  Captain Flynn was a pirate in commercial real estate these days with his corporate office in a high-rise in Atlanta. It was a good four-hour drive to Savannah. No way he’d clear his schedule and drive down.

  Wishful thinking. Flynn would fly down if he had to. There was no way he’d miss out on recovering the Grail. Besides, as much as Keegan disliked his captain, the truth was impossible to miss. They were profitable as privateers because Flynn was as savvy as he was savage. When they flew their colors, ships often surrendered without a fight, unwilling to face Captain Flynn’s legendary fury.

  It could come in handy against the Serpent Society.

  He tucked his cell in his pocket and pulled on his jeans. As he tugged his T-shirt over his head, the bathroom door opened. Char came into the room with a towel wrapped around her, and Keegan grinned.

  She raised a brow, heading for her closet. “What?”

  “I’m picking you up after work today and taking you out on the Sea Dog.”

  The color drained from her face. “Not a good idea. I get super seasick.”

  He waved off her complaint. “That was your father’s magic. He lifted the spell, remember?”

  “So he says, but I’m not ready to go test it.” She took out a skirt and matching jacket.

  “Dr. Charlotte Sinclair wrote a book about the sinking of the Sea Dog.” He shrugged, trying not to smile. “I can’t imagine she’d pass up a chance to watch the crew in action.”

  Keegan tracked her movements, anticipating the moment she dropped the towel.

  She worried her lower lip, biting back a smile. “I’ll admit it’s tempting, but I don’t want to blow cookies all over your deck.”

  He chuckled, shaking his head as his true accent bled through his words. “Ye have my word, if ye throw up, I’ll be right there to hold ye steady at the rail.”

  Allowing his seafaring tone to wander into his voice was probably playing dirty, but hell, he was still a pirate, and even if it took her a while to get her sea legs, he figured it’d be worth the effort. He’d never admit it out loud, but when Dr. Sinclair’s book was published, he’d read it, curious to see if a historian who lived centuries after the wreck of the Sea Dog could possibly re-create it accurately.

  He’d been surprised how close she’d come to the truth of that final voyage. A true passion for the sea came through her prose. The seasickness had to be the work of her father’s magic, because Keegan sensed a like spirit within her, and if he could get her out on the waves with the wind in her hair…she’d never get enough.

  She took a blouse off a hanger and crossed to her dresser. “Fine. But I’m going to hold you to it.”

  He grinned. “You won’t regret this.”

  “What about the rest of your crew?” Her dark eyes met his. “You can’t sail a ship that big alone.”

  “All arranged. We’re going to make plans to retrieve the Grail while we’re out at sea.”

  “Ah.” Her mouth curved, hinting at a smile. “You don’t want Agent Bale in on it.”

  Sexy and smart. He nodded, clasping the back of his neck. “Exactly.”

  “And they won’t mind if I’m there?”

  He walked over to her, running his finger under her chin. “You’ll be my guest.”

  “I see…” She chuckled with a sparkle in her eyes. “They have no idea I’m coming, do they?”

  He shrugged, sliding his arm around her waist and drawing her closer. “I wouldn’t be standing here if it wasn’t for you. I trust you with my life. That should be enough for them.”

  She raised a brow. “And if it’s not?”

  He closed the distance between them, his lips brushing hers as he whispered, “Fuck ’em.”

  Her lips were soft, her taste intoxicating, and when the towel fell, he wished he hadn’t put his pants back on.

  She broke the kiss and grabbed the clothes she had taken from the closet. “I better get dressed before you distract me. I’ve got plenty of work to do at the maritime museum before I can sail away on a pirate ship.”

  He watched her hips sway as her words sank in. “Wait a sec. What’s the lubber’s name you work with?”

  “Bruce?”

  He nodded. “I saw him coming out of one of the buildings yesterday before I went to the barn last night. Forgot about it until you mentioned your work.”

  “Are you sure?” She stopped and turned back, sadly with her clothes covering her chest. “I wonder what he was doing there. He lives on the other side of town.”

  “I think you were on to something. I didn’t find anyone with a serpent ring, but there was a fountain and a mosaic of a snake. Two of the buildings are called the ‘Brotherhood Apartments,’ and the third is a locked office building. That’s the one your boss came out of. Does the museum work with a company over there?”

  “Not that I know of, but I’ll see what I can find out.” She started to close the bathroom door and stopped. “I’m sure there’s a logical explanation. Bruce can’t be mixed up with the Serpent Society. He’s not like them.”

  Keegan wasn’t so sure.

  …

  Agent Bale rubbed the back of his neck, fighting the exhaustion that lured him to sit down. His suspect was locked up, and the cleanup crew had finished at the barn. The place would be an inferno by now.

  One more piece of unfinished business before he could go home and get some sleep. He headed for his office, stopping by Brenda’s desk on the way. “Have you heard from King? He’s not answering my calls.”

  “I think he’s at his desk, sir.” She glanced up from her computer screen. “Want me to page him?”

  “No.” David clenched his jaw. “Thanks, Brenda.”

  The highly trained agent inside him warned him to take some time and reflect before this confrontation, but he was too sleep-deprived to listen. How could he step back and rest when someone on his team was actively interfering in his mission?

  He opened Kingsley’s door without knocking, taking a tiny dose of satisfaction from seeing his shaman computer programmer flinch. “Little jumpy, King? Where have you been hiding?”

  Kingsley rolled his eyes and focused on his monitor. “I’ve been working my ass off on the search engine like you requested.”

  David took a chair across from him. “You haven’t answered my calls.”

  “I couldn’t tell you it was fixed, so why waste the time on the phone?”

  David leaned forward, his voice dropping to a dangerous octave. “Are you sure you weren’t in Savannah visiting with your daughter?”

  His pasty skin paled, sweat beading on his brow. That was all the answer Agent Bale needed.

  David stood up, shaking his head. “You know our mission here. You took an oath to protect American citizens from paranormal threats.”

  Kingsley dropped his hands from the keyboard. “My daughter is not a threat.”

  “If you knew that in your heart, you wouldn’t have vodka in that water bottle.”

  Kingsley got to his feet. “My drinking has nothing to do with Charlotte.”

  “Bullshit.” David shook his head. “You told me yourself you hadn’t been sober since the day you took her on a fishing trip and she tore the arms and legs off the men from the Serpent Society.”

  “I never should have trusted you.” Kingsley’s eye twitched. “I just wanted to keep her safe.”

  “Spare me.” David stood, narrowing his eyes. “You wanted to be safe. That kind of power terrifies you.” David raked a hand through his hair and went to the door. “She killed someone else tonight.” He looked back at his pale programmer. “There�
�s no way the pirate got across the barn fast enough to grab that hay hook while he had a bullet through his knee. I can’t prove it yet, but I will.”

  And then what would he do? He couldn’t think about it right now.

  “Charlotte isn’t a killer.” Kingsley came around the desk, pursuing him. “She was protecting me that day on the boat. And if something happened tonight, she must’ve been protecting you, too.”

  “Or the pirate.” David met Kingsley’s eyes. “Get in my way again, and I’ll have you in the holding pen so fast your head will spin.”

  “She’s made a life for herself. She’s not a threat.” King wet his lips with a nervous glint in his bloodshot eyes. “I can’t let you capture her.”

  “Like you could stop me.” David rolled his eyes, heading out the door. “I’m watching her for now. The second an innocent is attacked, I’ll have to take action. Might want to mention that to her next time you talk.”

  He slammed the door behind him, making a mental note to get a GPS tracker on Kingsley’s phone.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Charlotte powered through her work. Anything to keep her mind off the evening sail on the Sea Dog. The anxiety about being seasick had gradually mutated into eagerness for the adventure. She was going to meet the entire crew. The privateers she’d researched for years would be standing before her, flesh and blood, and the boat she’d painstakingly re-created with words would be cutting through the water.

  She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this excited.

  “Excuse me, Charlotte?”

  She popped her head up from her seating chart for the Pieces of Eight event to find Bruce standing in her doorway. “Hi. Just working on the exhibition.”

  “Good.” He came in and took a seat. “I’ve got to run something past you.”

  “Okay. What do you need?”

  He pulled his unruly curls back from his forehead. “I’m not sure how to say this, but…” His eyes met hers. “I don’t know if you saw the news this morning before work, but two esteemed professors from Savannah State University went missing last night.”

  “I’m sorry. Were they friends of yours?”

  “Not exactly.” He looked out the window. “But they were last seen at the Land’s End Ranch for an event. Apparently, the barn burned down last night, but the news report said they haven’t found any human remains yet.”

  The barn. Was it the same one she’d visited the night before? Her pulse shifted into overdrive, but she did her best to keep the panic off her face. “I hope they’re all right.”

  He nodded slowly. “Me too.” He focused on her again. “I worry about you working for Agent Bale and keeping company with rock stars. We’re historians; we research and write.” He swallowed. “I don’t want to see anything happen to you.”

  “I appreciate your concern, but I’m perfectly safe.” Under her desk, she wiped her sweaty palms on her skirt. He couldn’t know she’d been there. Sort of. Besides, she hadn’t seen a fire. Maybe it was another barn.

  “I hope so.” He lowered his voice. “I’m sure the missing professors didn’t think they were in danger, either. You’ve given Agent Bale your work. That should be enough for him. Get out of this while you still can.”

  Dread crept up her spine. Bruce wasn’t threatening her. No. He was just worried, trying to protect her. But Keegan was certain he’d seen Bruce come out of a building that could very well house the Serpent Society headquarters.

  It had to be a mistake.

  “You don’t need to worry about me.” She cleared her throat. “I’m almost finished with the project for Agent Bale anyway.” Charlotte set her computer mouse aside. “While you’re here, does the museum work with anyone across town near the Brotherhood Apartments?”

  Bruce stood up from his chair quickly, or maybe it just seemed that way. She couldn’t be sure. He shook his head without making eye contact. “Not that I know of…” His eyes finally met hers. “Why?”

  “Just curious.” She prayed her expression remained neutral. Lying wasn’t her strong suit. “Keegan had a gig near there, and he thought he saw you. I figured maybe you were picking something up.”

  “He must’ve been mistaken.” Bruce’s eyes narrowed for a second, his mouth in a thin flat line. She’d never seen him look so…stern. He reached for the door and stopped, speaking without looking in her direction. “There’s a lot of history in Savannah, good and bad, and outsiders often have a tough time telling the difference. That’s usually when people get hurt.”

  Silence filled her office, the unspoken threat hanging in the air. He looked back at her as he opened the door to leave. “Be careful who you trust. You just met these men.”

  “I will. Thanks, Bruce.”

  He walked out, and she pulled in a slow breath, replaying the scene in her head. She couldn’t be certain the man Keegan saw had been Bruce, but after her boss’s reaction when she mentioned the Brotherhood Apartments, she’d bet all her savings that Bruce knew more than he was letting on. The real question was, why would he lie about it?

  …

  Keegan stood on the deck of the Sea Dog and pulled out his cell phone. Char would be arriving soon, so he needed to get this handled. “Mister Pratt? It’s Keegan, Char’s friend.”

  “I remember you.” Her father’s words were slow and deliberate. Keegan glanced at the time. Half past three and Char’s dad was already three sheets to the wind.

  Keegan ground his teeth. “I need your help with something.”

  Even piss drunk, his clipped British accent made him sound annoyed. “How did you get this number?”

  “Your wife.” Keegan didn’t bother to explain further. “Agent Bale has a—”

  “Pssssssshhhh.” Her father’s voice dropped to a whisper. “I can’t hear you. No signal. One moment.”

  Keegan waited, listening to Kingsley Pratt’s footsteps, beeps from a security pad, and finally a door opening and closing. “Still there?”

  “Aye,” Keegan replied. “What was that all about?”

  “Agent Bale paid me a visit. I’d be an imbecile not to believe my office is bugged now.” He cleared his throat. “Why are you calling?”

  “We have a loose end from the other night. I need you to tie it off.”

  Kingsley lowered his voice. “What do you mean?”

  “Agent Bale brought back one of the Serpent Society’s men. He may have seen Char’s attack.”

  “Nonsense. There was nothing to see. She was on the sofa the entire time.”

  Keegan turned in to the wind, shaking his head. “He could’ve seen the hook fly from the hay bales of its own accord and into his mate’s skull. If he tells our agent…”

  “Bale will know it wasn’t you who threw it.”

  Keegan nodded. “Exactly. And since you told him about Char’s ability, he’s liable to dub her a danger.”

  “He’s already suspicious that you didn’t throw the damn thing. Bloody hell.” Her father spouted off a few more obscenities under his breath before finally speaking into the phone. “What are you asking me to do?”

  “I’m telling you to grow a spine for your daughter and get in the cell with the guy and find out what he knows.” Keegan gripped the railing on the ship tighter. What if Char’s father wasn’t capable of doing what needed to be done?

  “And if he knows too much?”

  Keegan turned away from the water. Across the deck, Colton was boarding with Skye. He waved and growled into the phone. “I suggest you convince him that he must’ve hit his head and let him know Agent Bale enjoys experimenting on people who have witnessed paranormal events.”

  “And if my threats aren’t enough?”

  “Then you’ll have to get me inside.” The sun shimmered on the wide Savannah River, tempting him to head for the open sea. Keegan lowered his voice. “Your daughter is in this mess with Agent Bale because of you. Put down the damn bottle and protect her.”

  He ended the call and stuffed his phon
e back into his pocket.

  John clapped his shoulder on his way to the ratlines and frowned, a crease forming at the center of his brow. “Everything all right, Keegan?”

  “Aye. It will be.” He glanced at the dock. “Will the captain be joining us?”

  “Not sure.” The boatswain shrugged. “He didn’t answer my voicemail.”

  “We don’t need him.” Keegan shaded his eyes, staring up at the masts. “We’ve got enough men to let the sails fall?”

  “Think so. Duke Proctor, Drake Cole, and Greyson Till are heading up the ratlines with me to release the sails. With one per mast, we’ll be slow, but we’re not bein’ pursued, so we should be fine.” John winked with a half smile. “Plenty fast enough to impress the historian.” He sobered, lowering his voice. “Not like you to be bringing a woman on board.”

  Keegan bristled. John was tender-footing around, but his message was clear. “I know what I’m doing, boatswain.”

  “Do you?” John shook his head as he gripped his shoulder. “If you go chasing after this one, you best be remembering there will be an ending to the tale.”

  Keegan narrowed his eyes at his well-meaning friend. “Fuck you.”

  John chuckled, kindness shining in his dark eyes. “You’ve got it bad for this woman.”

  “Aye.” Keegan broke eye contact. “But it’s different this time. She knows.”

  John nodded. “Aye, but that won’t change…”

  “I’m well aware of her mortality,” Keegan snapped. He pushed his emotions into the background, anxious to change the subject. “Duke’s coming without the captain?”

  Duke Proctor was Captain Flynn’s first mate and usually his perennial shadow. Even in the present times, Duke still worked for Flynn Enterprises.

  “Aye. Duke is the cap’s eyes and ears. He’ll report back if Flynn doesn’t make it on board. You know how they operate.”

  Keegan nodded slowly as he started heading for the stern. “What about Caleb?”

  “He’s charting our course right now.”

  “Thanks, John,” Keegan called over his shoulder as he made his way back to the captain’s quarters. This ship was a replica of their original Sea Dog, most of it built by their quartermaster, Colton Hayes, and on this deck, Colton was their leader. Flynn might still be the crew’s captain, but this ship’s command was solely Colton’s.

 

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