“We won’t help you until the contract is signed and the deposit wired to our accounts,” I said sweetly, sipping my iced coffee and watching her. She still had that stupid hat on.
“I can read,” Nicola said, raising a perfectly manicured eyebrow at me.
“I’m sorry. Naturally we’re a little on edge, after your uncle’s death and all. There seems to be more at stake here than we realized,” Trace said gently, leaving an opening for Nicola to tell us more.
“Yes, well, we certainly must find the treasure now. I wouldn’t want Uncle’s death to be in vain,” Nicola said, spitting out the words.
“Nicola, what is it that you do? Why would the expedition investor even send you to investigate this? Are you in the same line of work?”
“I’m an auctioneer, actually, so I’ve quite the extensive background in antiquities and history,” Nicola said, her accent heightening the snootiness in her tone. I wanted to reach over and pluck the hat off her head and toss it on the ground. Instead, I smiled at her.
“So this investor has hired you to finish the job?”
“Correct.”
Quite the talker, this one.
“Who is the investor?”
“It’s a silent investor who’s chosen to remain anonymous. The only information I have is the name of our contact, Quetz Investments.” Nicola shrugged.
“So you have no issue whatsoever with blindly following the search for a lost treasure, one which cost your uncle his life, on behalf of an investor that you know nothing about?” I asked.
“For what they are paying me? Absolutely. And, it’s still through the Institute. They have authorized the expedition, and it’s not as if they’re some backyard mercenary salvage company.” Nicola laughed as though the idea was the funniest thing in the world.
“See, Althea? That’s a little more comforting, right? The Institute is still heading up the expedition,” Trace said, passing me a scone.
We were back at Beanz, drinking iced coffees – tea for Nicola, of course – and eating scones while lazy tourists wandered past the windows. I’d had more than my normal coffee intake for the day and the jitters were taking over, making me bitchier than usual.
“I want to make this very clear,” I said quietly, leaning over until Nicola dropped the contract and met my eyes. “If at any time I sense any bullshit or foul play from you, this contract is terminated. We will walk. I’m not stupid and I certainly will not play around with our lives. And if you do anything dumb – like put us in the path of this killer – I will make sure that you are first in line. Understood?”
Nicola stared me down, her brown eyes hard, before she finally nodded.
“Understood.”
“You’ll see that noted in Clause 18 as well.”
I had asked my attorney to add a no-bullshit clause to the contract. Hey, it might not be totally legal, but if they signed it – well, that’s on them.
“I’ll have to fax this to the Institute. If all goes well, we should be able to leave tomorrow.”
“You think they’ll have fifty thousand dollars in our bank accounts by tomorrow? Please,” I looked at my phone – it was already mid-afternoon.
“Yes,” Nicola said simply, rising and tucking the papers into her briefcase. “I’ll be in touch.”
She swept from the room; her buttoned-up blouse and skirt were in sharp contrast to the flowy beachwear most of the other patrons were wearing. I caught more than one person giving her a look.
“Well, she certainly stands out in a crowd,” I said to Trace. I leaned back, trying to see what type of car she got into, but she disappeared around the corner of the building without approaching any of the cars parked on the street in front.
“You were really all over her,” Trace said, taking another bite of his scone.
“Well, I’m sorry, but come on. Uncle gets murdered, she doesn’t shed a tear, is here the next day to negotiate a new contract with us? And in the meantime both of our houses have been broken into? You don’t think this is completely messed up?”
“Well, the British are notorious for not showing their emotions, so I’m not totally put off by that,” Trace said.
“Yes, I can see you find her charming,” I said dryly, rolling my eyes.
“She’s not bad to look at, I’ll admit that,” Trace said with a grin, “Why, Thea? You jealous?”
“I’m annoyed, is what I am. I don’t like being threatened and I certainly think all this is fishy.”
“Let’s just see how it plays out. We’ll stay on guard. I’m armed. You apparently have magick protections on the house. So we lay low, do some research, and see what happens. Either way, we should each have fifty thousand non-refundable dollars in our bank accounts tomorrow. I don’t know about you, but that’s a lot of money for me.”
“It’s a lot of money for me too. But I’m worried – I just am.”
“Good. That’ll keep you on edge. You have a tendency to fall into trouble when your head’s in the sky and you aren’t paying attention.”
Damn it. The man had a point.
“So what do we do now?”
“We wait and we research. I think we need to ask Miss Elva to do some research, too. That woman has scary good connections.”
“Cash comes home tonight. I don’t think he’s going to like this.”
“If you were so concerned about that, I don’t think you would have written up a new contract to proceed.”
Trace was really beginning to annoy me now.
“I’ll just see myself out,” I mumbled.
His chuckle followed me out the door.
Chapter Fifteen
“He’s bringing his sister?” Beau hissed at me over the phone. I could hear the chaos of the kitchen at Lucky’s in the background.
“Yes, tonight.”
I was standing in front of my closet debating what to wear. I mean, it wasn’t just dinner with his sister – it was dinner with his sister the fashion editor.
“And you’re just getting around to telling me this now?”
“Sorry, long day.” I filled him in on the new developments as I pulled dress after dress from the closet.
“Now I have to go home and change,” Beau said, zeroing in on the important stuff.
“Tell me about it. She’s a fashion editor.”
There was a moment of dead silence, followed by a noise like a teakettle emitting steam coming through the phone.
“I’m going to kill Dylan for not telling me.”
Dylan, Cash’s younger brother, had been dating Beau off and on for a few months now. Between Beau opening a new restaurant and Dylan not living in Tequila Key, they’d kept it fairly loose and open, though I knew Beau would like to see more of Dylan.
“Is Dylan even in town?” I asked, holding up a red shift dress, then discarding it.
“He’s not. He’ll be back in a couple weeks, though.”
“Sorry, babe. I don’t know what to tell you. All I know is Cash said he wanted to bring Farah to Lucky’s to meet you.”
“I’ve got to run home and change. Shit,” Beau said.
“At least you’ve got good style. What the hell do I wear to meet a fashion editor?”
“Wear that new kimono-sleeved maxi dress I bought you in Miami. The silk one? It’s a knockout and flatters all the right areas.”
“Ohhhh, I forgot about that one. It hasn’t entered my rotation yet.” I breathed a sigh of relief. Beau had impeccable taste and knew my sizes – he always brought me back something fun when he went up to the mainland.
“See you later. Text me before you get here,” Beau said, hanging up without waiting for my reply.
I pulled the dress from my closet, still in its plastic dress bag. It really was lovely – and I’d been saving it for a date with Cash. A deep red, it was shot through with orange and turquoise accents. It looked exotic and worldly – the sort of thing a woman who knew her own worth would wear.
In fact, it kind of remin
ded me of Miss Elva.
I drew it from the bag and held it up to myself, studying my reflection in the full length mirror hanging from the back of my closet door.
“Perfect. Right, Hank?”
Hank cocked his head at me from his bed by the bathroom door, where he lay chewing one of his bones.
“I’ll take that as a yes. Now to figure out my hair.”
Twenty minutes later, I’d gone through my bathroom routine, had taken extra care with my makeup, and had added some new styling cream to my curls. There wasn’t much left to do but pick out some earrings and put on my dress. For now, though, I let my curls dry a bit more and waited to hear from Cash.
I sat in my bedside reading chair and grabbed my laptop. It wouldn’t hurt to do some more research on El Serpiente while I waited. After our meeting with Nicola earlier today, I’d shot Miss Elva a text with some questions, and she’d promised to email me anything she found. Signing in to my email, I was pleased to see that she had delivered.
“Shut up, a map and everything,” I murmured, clicking through the attachments Miss Elva had sent. One image was a map – but it looked like a photograph that someone had taken, not a scanned image of the actual map. Which made me wonder just who Miss Elva had gotten the map from. Scrolling back up, I looked at her email.
Don’t ask. And don’t share this.
Succinct as always.
From what I could discern, this map was hand-drawn; it looked quite aged – the lettering was an old calligrapher’s style and the paper was all but falling apart. I itched to be able to pick it up and use my psychic abilities to get a read on it. But from what I was getting just from the photo? This was the mapped route of the treasure fleet.
And the next image was handwritten documentation – degrees of latitude and all – of all the storms in the Caribbean the summer the treasure fleet had set sail.
“Holy shit. So if we follow their trajectory…” I swore. I really needed Trace for this. He was better at mapping out currents and where the trade winds would take us. I almost hit the forward button – then caught myself.
Trace’s laptop had been stolen. Which very well could mean that someone was monitoring his email, if he’d had his email open on his computer. And I’m sure he had – didn’t most people? For the sake of convenience?
Instead, I pulled the images up on my iPhone and saved them, making a mental note to print them out later. My phone beeped with an incoming message while it was in my hand.
Contracts approved. Transfer being made. We dive at dawn. Meet me at the boat.
I immediately signed into my bank account and was surprised to see that $5,000 was already in my savings, with the additional $45,000 listed as pending. I knew banks always put a hold on large deposits, so it didn’t bother me to see that. Before I even knew it, I was on Nordstrom’s Online, cruising through their maxi dress section. Pausing, I shook my head like I was coming out of a fog.
Yeesh, I get one windfall and I’m already shopping for new clothes.
“Come on, Hank, I know you’re hungry,” I said, sending Hank into a tailspin of ecstatic circles.
Cash called on the way downstairs.
“Hey, babe,” I said, deliberately infusing my voice with cheer.
“Hey, cutie, we’ll be in Tequila in about twenty minutes or so. Do you want us to pick you up or meet you at the restaurant?”
I thought about it for a moment as I pulled out Hank’s dog food bin.
“I’ll meet you there. The hotel’s on the other side of town anyway.”
“Yeah, but I’m not staying at the hotel.”
His words sent shivers through me. Damn but he was hot.
“Then I guess I’ll see you in a half hour,” I said lightly.
“Hank! Time to go outside!” The dog jumped at my shriek and raced towards the back door. I flung it open and watched as he did his business. Usually I’d let him run around outside in the yard by himself, but after the week we’d had I was on high alert.
Miss Elva had explained about the wards she’d put in place around the house – but even knowing Miss Elva and her indomitable powers, I was still nervous. I felt like we were battling some invisible force – an unknown entity – and I didn’t like it. Especially because the legend of El Serpiente didn’t exactly make me feel all that confident in our venture.
“Good boy,” I cooed down to Hank, then went over to my purse. I’d stopped at Fins, the general store in town, and picked up some brand new toys for him today. It wasn’t often that he got new toys, as I did like to rotate the ones we already had – but I figured he deserved it for being awesome.
I mean – don’t we all deserve gifts for being awesome?
“Check this out, Hank! A treat ball and a new squeaky toy,” I said, pulling open the treat ball and putting a portion of his food in the dispenser. The goal was to keep him stimulated – he’d have to nose the ball around to work the food out. Hank tilted his head at the hard plastic ball when I placed it in front of him and then looked at me in confusion. Usually I launched the ball across the room.
“Go on, sniff it,” I said, nudging the ball with my toe. As soon as I did, a piece of kibble fell out and Hank pounced. Instantly understanding the game, he began to push the ball around the room, stopping to eat pieces of kibble as they fell out.
I swear he shot me a look of pure joy before going back to the ball.
“Dress,” I said, and raced upstairs. Taking my robe off, I pulled the dress over my head, then double-checked to make sure there were no tags on the dress. I tousled up my curls and hung some thick silver hoops from my ears.
Taking one last glance in the mirror, I blew out a breath. This was the best his sister was going to get – and I had to say, I looked fabulous.
“Game on,” I murmured.
Chapter Sixteen
I was waiting on my front porch when Cash’s Jeep rolled up. In stark contrast to Trace’s battered and rusted Jeep, Cash’s Jeep gleamed and boasted shiny new rims. Cash immediately got out and rounded the car to open the back door for me – pausing to lean in and slide his lips across mine.
I leaned into his warmth for a second, before pulling back and smiling up at him.
“Good to see you,” I said.
Cash was over six feet tall, with dark hair and eyes the color of the sky during a storm. As if that wasn’t enough, the man had like zero percent body fat. It was enough to give a girl a complex – when I wasn’t too busy being distracted by all the dips and curves of his abs.
“I missed you,” Cash said softly, running a finger over my lips before turning and heading back to the driver’s side of the car.
“Hi, I’m Althea,” I said to Cash’s sister as I slid across the back seat. I moved over until I was diagonal from her and offered her my hand.
Of course – she was perfect. I should have expected nothing less – the genes that ran through this family were impeccable.
With dark brown hair cut in a choppy bob that swung around angled cheekbones, her grey eyes perfectly outlined, and wearing jean shorts with a white t-shirt that probably cost more than my dress, Farah was the quintessential effortlessly-cool New York girl. Gold bangles jangled at her wrist as she reached one hand back to shake mine, the other scrolling through her phone. Giving me a cursory glance, she nodded once before returning to whatever she was reading on her phone.
“God, Cash can you believe this? Mom wants us all to go on a family trip. Who has time for that? She’s making it mandatory, too. For spouses and significant others. Not that I have anyone to bring.”
My stomach turned. A family trip. With significant others? Oh man, there was no way I was ready for that.
“Not like you do either.”
Excuse me? What did that bitch just say?
Calm down, my inner peacekeeper urged me. She’s testing you, that’s all.
“Thank goodness,” I said. “Significant others are so last year, anyway.”
The snark was strong
with me today.
“Oh, you don’t believe in monogamy then, Althea?” Farah turned and ran her eyes over my outfit, silently letting me know she thought I was way overdressed for going to a casual tiki bar in small-town Tequila Key. I wanted to headbutt her. This was my town – and I’d wear anything I damn well pleased.
“Is that a new religion? I didn’t realize it was something to believe in. I’m fairly sure it’s a common practice,” I said smoothly, already hating this night.
“It doesn’t look like you practice much – other than marring your skin,” Farah said pointedly, looking at the tattoos that ran up my forearm.
I glanced down at my beautiful Celtic-inspired tattoo with a few little magickal elements worked in. I had even added an evil eye for extra protection. It was a beautiful piece, both delicate in its whimsy and strong in its protection. And this girl had no right to say I had “marred my skin” – I was very proud of my tattoos.
“You’d be amazed at what I practice,” I said simply, my eyes meeting Farah’s. This had the effect of shutting her up; she just snorted before returning to scrolling through her phone.
“Farah, that’s enough. No need to be bitchy just because you’re hungry.” Cash met my eyes in the rearview mirror. “Farah gets really angry if she doesn’t eat every few hours.”
This stick of a girl? Needed to eat every few hours? Did I mention that Cash’s family had impeccable genes? Because – wowza.
“This is Lucky’s Tiki Hut,” I said, as we pulled up to my personalized spot. Beau had a few spots saved for me, Luna, Miss Elva, and a few of his other favorites. Parking was at a premium here and he wanted to make sure we could always visit him.
Farah cast the restaurant one glance before her eyes landed on the sign designating this as my spot.
“Cute. Um, your own parking spot? Drink much?”
“Never more than two or three. It messes with my psychic powers, after all. And right now they’re telling me that you are not a nice person,” I said sweetly and swung from the car, not waiting for Cash or Farah to catch up as I stormed into the restaurant. Beau caught sight of me immediately and barreled over.
Three Tequilas (Althea Rose 3) Page 7