A Whisper of Danger

by Catherine Palmer

  “Aw, don’t be too hard on him. He’s just a boy. I used to be just like him.”

  The look Jessie gave him sent a wash of chills down Rick’s spine. Her violet eyes seemed to confirm everything he suspected: You are just like him, she was saying silently. You’re his father.

  “Jessie,” he began. “Is Splint—”

  “Give me a minute to change into my bathing suit, Rick.” She cut him off as she turned away, pulling out of his embrace and heading for the cliff-side steps. “I’ll tell Mama Hannah you found Splint.”

  “You’re going out to the boat?”

  “Of course. I’m Splint’s mother.”

  Her auburn hair swung as she ran across the sand. She’s his mother, Rick thought. And I’m his father.

  TEN

  Jess was mad. She knew her anger was born of fear, but she couldn’t suppress it. Didn’t want to. She was mad at her son for his disobedience. Mad at Hannah for neglecting Splint. Mad at Hunky for allowing the boy on board his diving boat.

  “What are you mad at me for?” Rick asked as Jess splashed out into the low surf. “I’m the one who found him.”

  “If you hadn’t told Splinter all those wonderful stories about your great treasure-hunting adventures, he wouldn’t have been so tempted to break my rules.”

  She glanced at the man beside her. Never in a million years would she have believed she’d be wearing a bathing suit in the presence of Rick McTaggart. The one-piece suit was a deep solid teal with flecks of gold, and she hadn’t worn it for years. She felt gangly and pale and out of shape. Rick didn’t seem to mind. In fact, his blue eyes were positively roving—which made her all the madder.

  “Splinter’s been dying to get on that diving boat,” she snapped, “and you did nothing but encourage him!”

  “I didn’t give him permission to swim out to the Sea Star. But, Jessie, there is a sunken ship under the water. And it’s in Splint’s own backyard. That’s the greatest thing a kid could ever wish for.”

  “Oh, you sound just like him!”

  At her second admission of the similarities between father and son, Jess made a shallow dive into the waist-deep water. Drowning her mortification in the cool depths of the tropical bay, she floated over a patch of dark brown seaweed. Farther out, the water turned a deep emerald. Almost crystal clear, it revealed a myriad of tiny fluorescent fish, chunks of coral, and rippled white sand.

  She could hear Rick swimming beside her, matching her stroke for stroke. How many times had they swum together in their youth? They had drifted countless hours in the waters of the Indian Ocean, laughing, splashing each other, delighting in the joy of their passion. It was on a beach that she had first realized how much she loved Rick McTaggart. On a beach that he had asked her to marry him. On a beach that she had said yes.

  “You know, you’ve got the best swimming hole on Zanzibar Island,” Rick said. He had turned onto his back and was paddling along with his eyes closed. “There’s not a stretch of water that’s calmer, safer, or prettier from here to Bombay.”

  “I guess. I really haven’t been out much.”

  “I’ve never seen you swimming here.”

  “That’s because I haven’t been swimming yet. I’m too busy.”

  “Too busy to have fun?”

  “I have responsibilities, you know. I have to keep the house running, keep food on the table, keep an eye on my son.”

  “Busy, busy, busy on Zanzibar Island.”

  Jess scowled. She didn’t like Rick teasing her so much. He had no idea what it meant to be the head of a household and carry the weight she had for so many years. No, she didn’t have time for fun. Swimming, dancing, riding the motorcycle . . . all the things she used to love . . . took just too much time. They seemed silly to her now. Childish.

  Maybe Rick thought she was a dud, but so what? She knew she was boring. Being responsible and mature was boring. Adulthood was boring. But what choice did she have?

  “Hey, what’s that down there?” Rick asked. He was swimming on his stomach again and pointing at something he’d seen in the water. “Right there by that piece of coral.”

  “I don’t see anything.”

  “Hold on a minute. I’m going down.”

  Jess floated while he dived into the warm water. She didn’t like to open her eyes in the briny water, so she couldn’t make out what he had found. All the same, her heart began to beat a little faster as he emerged, hands cupped tightly and rivulets of seawater pouring down his hair.

  “What is it?” she asked, swimming closer. “What did you find?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  “Is it alive?”

  “I don’t know. Take a look.”

  He held out his hands, and she bent over to peer between them. A thin stream of water suddenly shot up straight into her face.

  “Gotcha!” Rick laughed out loud. Before she could move away, he took aim and fired at her a second time. Water squirted into her mouth, her nose, her hair.

  “Rick McTaggart!” She sloshed a wave over his head. “You sneak! You tricked me.”

  “Didn’t think you’d fall for it!” He flicked a few drops of water into her face. “Uh-oh, there it goes again. I think it’s after you.”

  “Rat!” She grabbed his shoulders and tried her best to dunk him. Spluttering, he sank in a fountain of bubbles. As she wondered what he might try next, she felt his hand wrap around her bare ankle and give a jerk.

  She went under, struggled until he let her go, and came up laughing. Rick burst out of the water beside her. He blew a long stream straight up into the air and let it rain back down on his face. Then he turned and gave her a silly grin as water dripped off his eyelashes.

  “You are a nut,” she said.

  “You’re a squid.”

  “Well, you’re a sea slug.”

  “You’re a coelacanth.”

  “A what?”

  By this time he was swimming again, outpacing her easily. She could see him just ahead, his strong brown arms pumping through the water. Jess followed, for the first time actually enjoying the warm waves, the steamy kiss of afternoon sunshine on her skin, the glow of having felt silly and girlish.

  “What’s a coelacanth?” she called. “Is that some kind of an eel? Are you calling me an eel, buster?”

  Rick didn’t answer, and Jess swam on. The buoyant water hardly tired her, and she was surprised when she looked up to find the dive boat just a few feet away. Splinter was standing under its white metal canopy, his face pinched and pale and his eyes round with the terrible anticipation of his impending doom. Jess had seen that look on her son’s face a thousand times.

  “Spencer Thornton,” she called, “is that you up there?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” His voice sounded so tiny it almost made her waver in her determination to be as harsh as she felt he deserved.

  “I told you never to come out here, Spencer. You disobeyed me.”

  “I know, and I’m sorry, but Mama Hannah was asleep, and I just wanted to go down to the beach to look for some more shells. And then I saw Hunky’s boat, and it didn’t seem that far away, so I thought I’d just swim around a little. But then I realized I was getting farther and farther out, and then Hunky spotted me and waved, and so I just decided—”

  “Spencer Thornton!” Jess grabbed the edge of the diving platform.

  She was just about to haul herself up, when Rick emerged beside her. He leaned close and whispered in her ear. “A coelacanth is a prehistoric fish that everybody thought was extinct. The whole scientific community believed it was lost forever. But then some fishermen caught a coelacanth in their net, and now we know the species still exists. Everybody’s rejoicing.”

  Jess studied his blue eyes. “What on earth are you talking about?”

  “Coelacanths. You. Splinter. Once you were lost to me . . . and Splint was lost to you. But now you’re both found. ‘Always be joyful. Keep on praying. No matter what happens, always be thankful, for this is Go
d’s will for you who belong to Christ Jesus.’ It’s in 1 Thessalonians.”

  She stared at him for a moment. Maybe God really was as big a part of Rick’s life as he claimed. He sure enjoyed quoting his Bible verses. Always be joyful. Always be thankful. Easier said than done, Jess thought as she hauled herself up onto the platform. But when she faced her son and saw the tears gathered at the rims of his eyelids, she couldn’t keep from pulling the boy into her arms.

  “Oh, Splinter, honey, I was so worried about you!”

  “I’m sorry, Mom. I didn’t think it all through carefully. It wasn’t like I planned to come out here. It just sort of happened. And then when I got onto the Sea Star, I forgot about everything else.” He glanced across the bay. “How’s Mama Hannah? Is she mad at me, too?”

  “She was concerned. Miriamu and Solomon went all the way back to Nettie’s house looking for you.”

  “Well, that’s okay. Gives ’em more time to smooch.”

  “Smooch?”

  “Ah, Ms. Thornton!” Hunky climbed into the boat and deposited a large chunk of black conglomerate on the deck. “So you’ve decided to join us after all. And McTaggart, too? Well, isn’t this a merry party?”

  “We’ve been searching for Splinter,” Jess said.

  “And here he is. Safe and sound.”

  “When you realized what he was up to, Hunky, you should have taken him right back to shore.”

  “And forced him to miss the greatest moment of his life? Not ruddy likely. Look, I’ve put the wee chap into a life vest so he’ll be safe and sound for his doting mother. But truth to tell, I’ve been grateful for his help this afternoon. The boy’s a quick learner. He’s good with the air hoses, and he’s already done a fine job working on the conglomerate. Show her what you’ve found, lad.”

  The Scotsman’s praise was all the impetus Splint needed. He raced to the prow of the boat and bent over a woven palm-leaf basket. In a moment he straightened, holding a fat, triangle-shaped chunk of metal.

  “It’s a padlock!” he exclaimed. “It was all covered by this black junk, see. But I broke through the conglomerate and got it out.”

  “Conglomerate?” In spite of her determination to be firm and uncompromising, Jess found herself walking toward her son to take a look at the padlock. She had rarely seen Splint so excited—and that was saying something, since the smallest details of life so often thrilled him. His eyes sparkled, and his grin stretched from one pink-tinged ear to the other. He was probably going to be sunburned and sore tonight, but she had no doubt he wouldn’t care in the least.

  “Conglomerate is this stuck-together gunk,” he told his mother, holding up a chip. “Over the centuries, when iron and other materials chemically decompose, conglomerate forms. See how it’s kind of pebbly? Hunky says you can’t tell the difference between conglomerate and ballast rock just by looking.You have to hit it with a hammer. On ballast, the hammer bounces, but on conglomerate, a black residue puffs out.”

  “Yeah, and Hunky loves to hit things with hammers,” Rick said, joining them in the prow of the boat. “Splint, I expect you to be extremely careful when you work with conglomerate. Remember, you’re holding a piece of history there. If you pound it too hard, you’ll break it. And that’s destruction we can’t afford.”

  “Aye, fill his head with your warnings and admonitions,” Hunky put in. “Next thing you know, he’ll be giving me lectures, too. Take a look at this, McTaggart, and see how patient and meticulous you want to be now!”

  The bald Scotsman’s blue eyes lit up as he lifted a hunk of coral-encrusted clumps into the air. “How does this sweet little biscuit suit you, Mr. Scientist? Do you know what this is? Aye, I can see by the look on your face you do. We found it this morning, and there’s more down there besides. I think we’re close to the mother lode.”

  “What is it?” Splint asked, hopping up and down for a better look. “Is it gold? Is it pieces of eight?”

  “It’s silver coins,” Rick said, taking the distinctive chunk of coral from the treasure hunter. He held the coral in both hands so Splint could examine it. “We call this a biscuit. Coral grows around the coins and seals them together in the exact pattern they were in when they tumbled out of the ship.”

  “I want to break it apart! Let me do it! I’ll get the hammer.”

  “No, Splint,” Rick said, catching one skinny arm. “We don’t break these. First I’ll x-ray the biscuit to see how sturdy the coins are. Then I’ll dip it in an acid bath that dissolves the coral. Sometimes the X-ray shows that only the coral covering is left, and the object inside has disintegrated. But even that can be useful to me. I can treat the coral like a mold and re-create what was inside it. That way I can study the artifact, even if there’s nothing left.”

  “Wow! Can I help you? I’ll be really careful, I promise.”

  “Right now you can put this biscuit into that tank of seawater. Exposure to the air can destroy these artifacts, Splint. Salt water keeps them safe until I have a chance to examine them.”

  “Rick, did you notice the date on this padlock?” Jess asked. She had been studying the hunk of rusted iron, her artist’s eye combing it for interesting details. “It reads eighteen-something-or-other. Maybe that’s an eight . . . or is it a three?”

  “What!” He grabbed the lock and peered down at it. “Hunky, she found it! We’ve got a date! Oh, Jessie.” He flung an arm around her shoulder, pulled her close, and gave her cheek a warm kiss. Then he was gone, striding across the deck toward the Scotsman. “This is fantastic! Hunky, where did you find the padlock? Which quadrant? Don’t tell me you didn’t write it down!”

  “Calm yourself, Mr. Scientist. Even though we didn’t have you or your chum Andrew Mbuti peering over our shoulders, we did mark the padlock on your pretty little chart. Take a look here.”

  The two men bent over a sheet of plastic-covered paper while Splinter turned the coral biscuit over and over. Jess fingered a strand of wet hair out of her eyes and sat down on the vinyl-upholstered bench seat in the prow. She felt damp, tired, and a little disoriented. This morning, she’d been focused on school and business. Now she was smack-dab in the middle of a treasure hunt. And she’d found a clue to the ship’s date!

  Strangely elated, she watched her son carefully sorting through the objects in the saltwater tank. The curve of his sun-browned back mirrored exactly the bare physique of his father a few feet away. Both were tall, well formed, handsome. More significant, they were twins in spirit and intellect. How long could she keep them apart? And did she really want to?

  “Let me show you all this awesome stuff, Mom,” Splinter said, wiping his wet fingers on his bathing trunks. He took her hand and pulled her to her feet. “See, these are the compressors. They feed fresh air through those hoses down to the divers. It’s such a cool design, because this way the divers don’t even need scuba gear! They can dive for hours without worrying about running out of air. And they’re a lot freer because they don’t have to carry a big tank on their backs. Now this is the motor, see? And here are the gas cans. We keep them really safe in this container off to one side. Hunky won’t let me touch them.”

  “That’s a relief.”

  “And here’s some of the diving equipment. We have face masks, flippers, weight belts, snorkel tubes, and diving suits. If you don’t have a weight belt, you can’t go down. You won’t sink! Did you know that, Mom? And guess what! Heavier people need more weights!”

  “Is that right?” As usual, Jess felt a little overwhelmed at the rush of information pouring out of her son.

  “Yeah, even though they’re heavier, their bulk makes them buoyant. So they float! You should see the size of Hunky’s weight belt.”

  “What are you saying about me, there, laddie?” The Scotsman tossed Jess a face mask. “Speaking poorly of my figure, are you? Well, sir, just for that, I’m going to have to ask you and your mama to follow me down into the water. Perhaps the both of you will learn some manners if you spend a little ti
me in my company.”

  “No, Hunky,” Jess said, setting the mask on the bench. “I’m not going to allow—”

  “Please, Mom! Please, please, please! Just this once? I’ll be so careful. You can come, too. You can watch me every second. Oh, Mom, let me go down and just see the wreck.”

  “Splinter, I’ve told you—”

  “Just let me look at it really fast. Just so I can say I did. Please, Mom, you’ve got to let me!”

  “I don’t believe this.” She glanced at Rick. Though his face was carefully composed, she could read the look in his eyes. Let the boy go, Jessie. Give him this gift.

  “I swear I’ll go to school every morning without complaining,” Splint said. “I’ll make my bed every day. I’ll never argue with Mama Hannah. I’ll brush my teeth six times a day. I’ll—”

  “That’s enough, Splint.” She let out a breath and looked at Rick. “What do you think?”

  “I’ll go down with him. I’ll watch him like a hawk.”

  “I should have known where you’d stand.” All the same, she was thankful for his offer. “All right, Splint. I’ll let you see the ship. But I’m coming, too.”

  “Mom, you’re awesome! You’re the best! The greatest! I love you forever!” Splint threw his gangly arms around her neck and squeezed until she felt her face turning red. And then he went skipping off to try on face masks. “Treasure of Zanzibar, here we come!”

  Splinter slid off the diving platform at the end of the Sea Star and waved at his mom. She was doing her usual worried-mother routine. First, she’d made Rick go over and over the procedure of how to use the breathing gear. Then she’d fussed about making sure everyone’s face mask fit tightly enough and all the flippers were the right size. Of course, Splint’s were too big, but he didn’t care. Now she was going round and round about the weight belts. Too heavy? Too light? Too bulky? Too flimsy?

  Splint was surprised Rick didn’t just dive in and leave her on the boat. Hunky Wallace already had. If he didn’t think his mom would have a cow about it, Splint would have followed the treasure hunter straight down to the sunken ship. But what chance did a guy have to be bold when his mother was always hanging around nitpicking over this and that? All the same, he knew he should be thankful to get to explore the wreck at all. If his mom had followed her normal pattern, he’d be in his room right this minute, grounded for the rest of his life.