by Mark Stone
"Give me more credit than that, my dear,. I'm a treasure hunter. I know all about patience." He shook his head. "On the way back, your father came upon some information he should have never known. I left my computer open. I was so damned stupid. He saw me balancing the books. Or, more aptly, he saw me doctoring the books."
"You- you were stealing from him?" Kate asked, a catch in her throat.
"Barely," he answered. "A couple hundred thousand at most. Just enough to cover some gambling debts."
"He was going to fire you," Kate said, her jaw tightening. "That's why you- why you—”
"He was going to get rid of me," Albert said, indignation coloring his words. "After all we had been through, after all the years together, he was going to fire me and get the jewels himself. He was going to cut me out. He was just going to toss me away like a piece of trash." Albert slammed his hand so hard down onto the table that the bowls of stew started dancing upward. "So that's what I did to him, Kate. Don't you see? I didn't want to hurt him. I didn't want to hurt you, but I didn't have a choice. I had to do what I had to do. I wasn't going to let him ruin everything." He cast his eyes downward. "So, I threw his ungrateful ass into the ocean."
A flash of devastation rushed through Kate. There it was, the truth of all of it laid out right there in front of her. Her father's death, as tragic and senseless as she always knew it was, was even more senseless and needless than she originally thought. Her father hadn't died doing what he loved, he died protecting what he loved most, her. Kate had spent so many nights after her father's death lamenting the fact that the man seemed to care more about treasure hunting than he had about her, but that wasn't the case. It had never been the case. He wanted to come back to her, and he would have if not for the son of a bitch sitting in front of her right now.
"I'll kill you," Kate said. It wasn't loud or ominous. It wasn't a threat. It was a promise. Then, she lunged toward the man, slamming into him with enough force to knock him backward. Her hands and feet were still bound, but she spun anyway, kicking him with both feet at once.
Already backed against the far wall, he shuddered at the force of her kick.
Still, she was at a disadvantage. He grabbed her leg, and thrust her over. She fell hard against the floor, and he kicked her furiously in the gut. She felt pain, heat and frustration as she writhed on the floor. She felt something else though too, and she stifled a satisfied grin.
"No, you won’t," Albert said, rounding the table and heading toward the door he had just pulled Kate through. "Cancer will, my dear. At least, unless I can stop it."
"You're dying?" Kate asked, twisting to follow Albert's movements. "Good. You deserve worse than that."
"What I deserve is to be freed of this," Albert said. "What I deserve, is to live the life I left behind after your father died, after I was forced to abandon ship and sail back to the coast on a lifeboat." He shook his head. "But I'll fix it, Kate. I'll do what John Abernathy couldn't."
"John Abernathy? The explorer?" Kate asked, pain shooting through her stomach as she covertly moved her hands.
"Your father had a piece of The Jewels of Pascal," Albert said. "I took it from him, and then I killed him, with my own hands." He shook his head. "Sure, I left the next group to die out there. At this point, I didn't see any need in sharing, but I didn't do it myself. I didn't throw any of them into the water with my own hands. There's a difference in that. Taking their loved ones and forcing them to rob those banks with the jewels on them, it was enough to free me of the Mayan curse for them. It wasn't even that hard. Hell, after Patrick cracked my little code, he was more than happy to play along. He robbed a bank up in Georgia a few months ago; a little hit; no bombs, not much fanfare. Still, it did the trick."
"Patrick worked with you after he found out you killed his brother?" Kate asked.
"He wanted the money. They all do, and they'll get it. They'll each get a cut from the unimaginable fortune the jewels will bring, after I cure myself of this cancer, that is."
"You can't cure cancer like it's magic," Kate said.
"Why not?" Albert asked. "That's how I got it. You think it was a coincidence? You think it was just chance I got this after what I did to your father—”
"After you killed him!" Kate screamed. "Why? Why didn't you just say the boat capsized or something? Why didn't you just pretend there was an accident? You didn't have to leave your entire life behind."
"Of course, I did," Albert said. "Because of you. You'd have never believed I survived when your father didn't and, even if you did, you'd have gone digging. You'd have figured it all out. You always do." He shrugged. "Well, except for this time, right? Not as prepared as you usually are, are you, Kate?"
She fiddled with her hands some more, smiling just a little despite herself.
"More prepared than you'd think," she said. Tucking the key, she'd covertly grabbed from Albert when she slammed into him, she launched at him with newly freed hands, and a loose and very heavy metal chain.
She swung at him, slapping him hard in the face with it. He fell backward and she used the free seconds she had to unlatch one of the chains on her foot.
Turning, and with no time to free the other, she ran out the door. Light bombarded her again and she bolted across the hull, the chain dangling from her leg as she ran.
"Get her!" Kate heard Albert's screams ring through the ship.
Like a flock of vultures descending from an unseen perch in the sky, the Willful Guild surrounded her. Still dressed in black, they circled her. She wasn't helpless, she still had the chain, and that wasn't nothing.
"Stay the hell away from me," she screamed. "I'll crack open all of your skulls!" Before she could, something heavy and hard slammed against her back, knocking her down and pushing the breath from her lungs. Turning over, she lay there, flat on her back, gasping for breath.
Over her, holding a large piece of lumber, was Patrick. He had hit her. He had ended this...and now it was over.
"Grab her," Albert said, coming into view. His face was cut and blood dripped down onto his chest, staining his shirt. "Take her to the edge and hold her there. But don't throw her in," he said, pulling a gun- her gun- from his hip. "I'm going to do that myself, right after I insure she won't make it out."
“Right away,” Patrick said, nodding at the others. They jumped to attention, grabbing Kate and pulling her to her feet.
“I’m really sorry about this,” Patrick said, looking at Kate as she was pulled toward the starboard end of the ship. “You seem like a really nice person but, I mean, you saw where I lived, right? My brother spent his entire life trying to keep his head above water, and look what happened to him.”
“Albert murdered him,” Kate said, her head still spinning.
“I know,” Patrick said. “Sucks, right? I don’t want that for me. I want those bills, those big bills. I’m afraid this is how I have to get them.”
They pushed Kate up onto the ledge. She could hear the ocean roaring beneath her, the same ocean that took her father.
They held her on either side as Albert marched toward her, her own gun pointed in her direction.
“I hope there’s an afterlife, Kate,” he said.
“You’d better not,” Kate said. “Because, when God gets ahold of you, something tells me he’s not going to pull any punches.”
“I hope there is, Kate,” he repeated. “I hope you find your father there.” He walked forward, a smile creeping across his face. “That way, you guys can spend eternity talking about how much smarter I am than both of you.” He winked at her. “Tell him I said ‘hello’ when you see him, and tell him I don’t regret a damned thing.”
Kate closed her eyes, expecting death to take her, or at least, expecting the ocean to. It didn’t seem fair, to have to die this way. Still, if she did, she could take comfort that her father might be there to catch her.
She heard the bullets fired and her body jerked, but she wasn’t hit.
Her eyes flew
open and she saw why. Bullets sprayed across the hull, coming from somewhere above. They caused the guild to scatter and, as they let go of her, Kate grasped onto the ledge for balance.
Looking up, she saw a helicopter descending toward her, like an angel drifting down from Heaven.
“No!” Albert said. “No! You will not take this away from me!”
He rushed back toward her, gun pointed in her direction.
Before he could pull the trigger though, bullets sprayed again, hitting him over and over again until finally- mercifully- they stopped, allowing his body to fall lifeless to the hull.
Kate swallowed hard, scrambling until she grabbed her gun.
“Freeze!” she said, pointing to the quickly scattering guild. They didn’t listen, but it didn’t matter. They were on a boat in the middle of the damned ocean. There was nowhere to run.
From the helicopter, a voice sounded through a bullhorn.
“That’s right you bastards! Run!” The voice belonged to Anchor. “That’s what you get!” he continued. “You messed with the wrong dude’s partner!”
“Partner,” Kate mumbled to herself and for the first time, she didn’t mind the sound of it.
Chapter 31
"This seat taken?" Kate asked, walking into the coffee shop she'd run to the first day she met Anchor. The man was sitting at the very same table she had that day. Though, where she was more than a little upset, Anchor seemed light and sunny.
Nursing a French vanilla latte, there was a smile on his face that- even after everything- still irked Kate a little bit.
To be fair though, it wasn't nearly as bad as it used to be.
"Depends on if you're paying or not," Anchor said, looking up at the woman.
"I'm definitely not paying," she said, and sat down anyway.
"Fine. I'll pay. What'll you have?" he asked her, his eyebrows shooting up. "I hear they have a pretty good pound cake here, if you're into that sort of thing."
"They do. It's amazing," she answered. "But I'm afraid my mouth is going to be too full of crow for that."
"I'm not one hundred percent sure where you're going with this, but I'm willing to listen," he said, leaning back in his chair.
It had been three days since that nonsense on the boat, and this was the first chance Kate had had to really talk to Anchor about what had happened out there.
"Marcus told me what you did," she said. "How you figured everything out, how you convinced him I was still alive, how you fought for it even after he threatened to have you locked up."
"Which is a real danger, especially when you consider how handsome I am." He shook his head. "A face like this would not fare well in prison."
"You're an idiot," Kate grinned. "But you're a smart idiot, and you were there when I needed you. I just wanted to say thank you for that."
"Eh, just doing my job," he said. "or, doing your job, as it were." He leaned forward. "You want to know something? This police stuff is hard work. I'm not going to lie, when I got here, I kind of thought this was going to be a cake walk, but it's not."
"Imagine that," Kate said, reaching across the table, grabbing his latte and taking a drink.
"You a French vanilla girl?" he asked.
"A French vanilla woman," she answered, shrugging. "What can I say? It's awesome."
"It definitely is awesome," he replied.
She slid the back to him. "I wanted to talk to you."
"You kind of already are,” he said.
"I'm being serious. I wanted to ask you something," she said, swallowing hard.
"Ask away," he said.
"What you did for me back there, the way you fought for me," she started.
"What about it?" he asked.
"Did you do that because I was me, because I'm his daughter, or did you do it because it was the right thing to do?" She shuffled uncomfortably in her seat.
"I did it because it was the right to do, and because it was you,” he answered. "But not because you're his daughter."
Kate looked at him for a second, smiling despite herself. "Okay. I can accept that."
She reached across the table, extending her hand toward him.
"So, what do you say?" she asked.
"About what?" His eyes narrowed at her.
"It's been a long time since I had a partner I trusted. Hell, I think the last partner I really trusted was my father." She took a deep breath. "What I'm saying is—”
"That you trust me," he finished, grinning.
"No," she answered. "But I think we're off to a decent start, and I'm willing to try." She tilted her head to the side. "So, what do you say, Anchor? Do you want to be my official consultant, my partner on a more permanent basis?"
His smile grew wide. Thrusting his hand forward, he took hers and shook it hard.
"Cross," he said. "I thought you'd never ask."
"Don't," she answered, smiling herself, "call me that."
"Yeah," he chuckled. "I wouldn't hold my breath."
The End.
Cross and Anchor will be back soon. Until then, why not venture to the other side of FLorida and check in with some old friends?
Want to know what happens to Dillon, Boomer, Charlotte, and the rest of the gang?
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For more on Dillon Storm and his group of Naples neighbors, check out the sequels.
Book 2: Far From Shore can be found here. Check it out!
Book 3 Across the Sound can be found here.
Book 4: Caught in the Surf can be found here
And…
Thanks, and until next time, happy sailing,
Mark