47. Jezebel

CHAPTER 47

JEZEBEL

W ith every moment I spent on the water, I remembered with crystal clarity why I’d joined the US Army and not the US Navy. The sea had a life of its own. Poseidon was a weapons-grade asshole.

Cole had picked entirely the wrong moment to get seasick, and as the sun rose, he was still groggy from his unfortunate experience in the head. I was worried about the bruise on his temple. Last night, he’d claimed he was okay, but he sure didn’t look it. I’d carried him to the shelter of a rocky overhang and monitored his vitals as he slept.

“How are you feeling?” I asked.

His head turned slowly as he took in our surroundings. “Are you planning to get stranded on every single island in the Caribbean this month?”

A little of the tension snaking around my guts eased. If Cole still had his sense of humour, brain damage was unlikely.

“Just this one, Skeleton Cay, and that godforsaken sandbank. ”

“Is the Crosswind here? Because if she isn’t, we’re up the tropical equivalent of shit creek without a paddle.”

“I haven’t checked. I didn’t want to leave you.”

“Well, go and check.”

I liked that Cole wasn’t afraid to boss me around. The men in my life usually fell into two categories, with only Priest, Marcel, and my former Blackstone House roommates as the exceptions. If a man knew what I did for a living, he tiptoed gently around me and deferred to anything I had to say. If he didn’t know what I did for a living, he acted condescending and called me a slut behind my back. Cole fell into some hitherto unknown category by treating me like a regular human being.

Windjammer Bank was a lush island roughly five hundred yards wide, low in the water with the occasional rocky outcrop. The population of rats didn’t seem even slightly perturbed by the humans traipsing through their home. I’d spent most of last night hissing at them, but quietly so Cole could get some rest. If I recalled correctly, rats were strong swimmers, so maybe they were making themselves at home on the Crosswind by now?

There she was, a hundred yards offshore, gleaming in the sun, the storm nothing but a distant memory. I hunkered down in the undergrowth surrounded by a dozen washed-up dolls to watch her. A block-headed shadow passed in front of the saloon window. Witt was alive and kicking, unfortunately, but hopefully not for long.

No, no, no. I didn’t mean that. I’d promised Cole I wouldn’t shoot anyone else unless it was absolutely necessary. If my life was in danger, or his, I wouldn’t hesitate. Otherwise, Witt would be getting his punishment via the vagaries of the San Gallicano legal system. I still had plenty of paracord with me, so I could truss him up nicely.

And I’d take great pleasure in tying the knots as tight as possible .

While the Crosswind looked undamaged, the same couldn’t be said for the Tide Pod . She rested in shallow water, hitched to a coconut palm with a rope that had no doubt been taken from one of the Crosswind ’s storage lockers. I realised now why the boys had wanted the Crosswind and not any of the other boats they could have begged, borrowed, or stolen in San Gallicano. The shark cage rested on the swim platform, its door open, hooked up to the crane. When they found treasure among the coral, that’s how they were bringing it to the surface. Why stuff two gold bars into a lift bag when you could stack twenty in a cage and let the winch do the hard work?

Slowly, quietly, I backtracked the way I’d come to give Cole the news.

“There’s no damage that I can see, but they dumped the Tide Pod on the beach.”

“Why would they do that?”

“So they can use the crane to bring up the treasure.”

“So there is treasure?”

“I didn’t see any, but it’s a reasonable assumption.”

“What a waste. Hopefully she’s salvageable?”

“I’m not an expert in submersibles.” No, I was an expert in criminals, terrorists, and death. “Witt was in the saloon, probably eating breakfast before the first dive of the day. Are you up to a walk over to the other side of the island?”

If I took Cole with me, I wouldn’t have to worry about him lying here concussed.

“I can make it.”

Witt obviously wasn’t expecting trouble because he didn’t give the island more than a cursory glance as he pulled on his wetsuit and strapped a tank to his BCD. Clint appeared and did the same, followed by Jon, although Jon didn’t look particularly happy to be there.

Was there trouble in paradise?

Witt strode to the stern, and as he started the winch to lower the shark cage into the water, Cole tensed.

“He didn’t even check where it was going to land. Do you know how much that cage weighs? It’s stainless steel. Dropping it like that would have broken off chunks of coral.”

“He left two people to die, and now he’s trying to steal sunken treasure. I think coral is the least of his concerns.”

Witt motioned with a hand, and Clint jumped into the water. “Go,” he said to Jon when he hesitated. Once both minions had submerged, Witt followed. There was no sign of Dr. Blaylock. Either he was locked up in a cabin, or he’d been buried at sea.

“When are you going to board?” Cole whispered.

“No time like the present. Even if they’re diving to a hundred feet, they’ll have at least fifteen minutes of air.”

I wanted to get this over with. I wanted someone to cook me dinner and bring me a cocktail. This wasn’t a fucking vacation. Would Demelza make me take another vacation after this one to get over the trip? I found I didn’t actually hate the idea, especially if Cole felt like coming with me.

“Do not leave this spot,” I told him before I jogged down to the beach and slipped into the water. Fuck, my rib hurt like a bitch. “Got it?”

“Got it.”

“You remember how to use the gun?”

We’d brought two AR-15s with us from Skeleton Cay—Three’s and Six’s. I wasn’t sure that Cole would pull the trigger, even if his life was at risk, but at least he had a way to defend himself if the shit hit the fan.

“If you think I might need to use the gun, then you shouldn’t be going anywhere. You said your friends were tracking you? We have water. We can wait a few days.”

“Okay, forget about the gun. Just try not to get bitten by too many bugs.”

“I don’t like this.”

“Relax. I’ll be fine.”

I couldn’t promise Cole everything he wanted, but I could promise him that.