Chapter Seven

Lola

Foregoing yesterday's choice of footwear for a boring pair of tennis shoes that won't give Perry an aneurysm, I waltz onto the dock with my bag full of gear. Bree and Buzz will be bringing the rest of the equipment we need. One of the perks to being the lead is that I don't have to lug around all the heavy equipment. Once again, I'm thankful for the promotion I once thought would never come.

Well. Mostly.

I sigh, thinking of Hal and all the ridiculous admonitions he gave me before I took off. It's okay if you complete the investigation and realize this job isn't for you, Lola. Not every archeologist is meant to be the lead .

If only I didn't have to report directly to Hal. This position would be near perfect if I was my own boss. Yet if this dig proves to be more valuable than he expects, I'll have the opportunity to lead an entire excavation on the next trip down, which would be a total dream come true.

Of course, Hal alluded to that, though his backhanded remarks made it seem as if he doubts we'll find anything worthwhile on the Sirene Dansante. Well. We'll just have to wait and see. Then Hal would eventually eat his words.

I suck in a deep breath and head down the dock toward the Dainty Dutch-ess . I won't let my ex—er, boss—ruin this moment for me. I'll take it for the opportunity it is and pray we find some really cool artifacts down there. At least enough that they'll want to send us on a full excavation in the future.

As the sun's rays beat down on me, I shield my eyes to get a better glimpse of the boat and its infuriatingly grumpy owner. Last night was interesting, to say the least. Seeing Perry in a relaxed, casual atmosphere gave me a glimpse into who he really is. He may have given off complete hermit vibes yesterday, but it's clear he's more social than he lets on.

Around his friends, he was nice, kind even. A stark contrast to the surly man I met yesterday. And then there's Jerica, who is the total opposite of her brother. I'm kind of amazed at how much fun we had weaving in and out of shops last night after leaving Perry at the Shallow End. I could easily see us becoming great friends over the course of the summer.

Drawing closer to the Dutch-ess , I can tell he cleaned up the deck. Ropes are neatly wound and stacked in a semi-organized fashion. The crates that held fish yesterday are noticeably absent, along with the nets that took up so much of the space on the back of the boat. Without meaning to smile, one stretches across my face.

Before I catch sight of Mr. Ford , Bertie trots and grunts my way, stopping when she reaches the edge of the boat. "Aw, good morning, you preshy wittle puggie, you." It's impossible to keep my baby voice in check. It just rolls out of me like water whenever little Bertie comes around.

"Where's your meanie-faced owner, hm? Is he hiding down below?" I chuckle and bend low to rub the pug's tan head. "He probably thinks I'll give him cooties if I get too close."

"Not cooties." I startle and straighten at Perry's gruff voice. "But definitely something incurable." He stands on the top step of the ladder with his arms crossed and that same grimy hat on his head. Looks like he's shed the clean-cut, laid-back version of himself for the uptight, bad-tempered captain once again.

"Hm. Well, if you consider my good attitude and optimistic outlook an incurable disease, then so be it," I say with a grin. "Maybe I need to rub up against you or something to be sure you contract some of my good qualities."

When his eyes spark and his head cocks at an unnatural angle, I realize my faux pas. "Uh, I just mean that you're cranky. And an attitude adjustment wouldn't hurt. Not that I want to rub my body up against yours or…touch you." I swallow. "At all. In any way."

The surly captain of the vessel I'm forced to take back and forth to the shipwreck, with the slowest ever dip of his chin, eyes me like I'm one meltdown away from a straitjacket. "Noted."

Silently cursing my stupidity, I tuck a loose piece of hair behind my ear. "Do you mind if I come aboard, Captain?"

Without even sparing me a glance, he stalks toward a pile of loose lines and begins coiling them over his shoulder. "Sure." His deep sigh says otherwise, but I don't have time to convince him of all my merits. I've got a job to do, whether he likes me or not.

Apparently, resigned acceptance is the best I'm going to get with him. Why I hoped for some kind of eager invitation, I have no clue. But there's just something about Perry Ford that begs to be discovered. Does he house a soft heart somewhere deep down?

I smile to myself as I step onto the boat and bend to give Bertie a better snuggle. When I straighten, Perry faces me, eyes glued to my feet.

I kick out one foot with a raised eyebrow. "Better?"

Slowly—too slowly to be polite—his gaze slides up my body to connect with mine. "Mm hmm."

If his back was turned, I'd roll my eyes. "Where's the best place to set my gear?"

He seems to think about this for a moment before gesturing toward one of the benches. "Over there is fine."

"Great." I drop my bag down in front of the bench. "My crew should be here soon. They didn't get in until late last night, so they're settling in at their cottage."

Instead of a response, Perry simply rolls up the line of rope that looks like it goes on forever without even a head tilt of acknowledgement.

"They're brother and sister and super fun," I add. "I can't wait for you to meet them."

Still nothing. At this rate, I'd settle for one of his growly hums.

"Your boat looks nice," I hedge, hoping that might do the trick. This time, he briefly meets my gaze…and grunts.

Sheesh, this guy is something else.

I can only imagine what Buzz and Bree will say when they encounter Sir Grunts-a-Lot. Maybe they'll work as a buffer between Perry and me. Of all the people I've done investigations with, they're my favorites. They have a genuine love for maritime history and are both easy to work with.

Unlike Perry. If I had to fill out an online review for his water ferry services so far, I'd give him a one-star rating and probably say something like, "Not worth the price; the captain only speaks in ape."

It's too bad he's our only viable option to get back and forth to the wreckage.

Maybe once I have a couple of allies with me I won't be so bothered by his irritating attitude. "So anyway," I say, loud enough to gain his attention. "Like I explained before, this is an exploratory investigation for us. We probably won't be bringing anything up, but we will be searching to see if this shipwreck is something the museum wants to excavate further."

"So…there's a chance you'll be back?" Perry halts his movements as he asks the question but still doesn't turn to face me.

"Yeah. I mean, not me necessarily, but our team. Right now, we're doing a bunch of research to determine whether or not it's worth the museum's time. But I have no doubt that this ship will be of great interest to our director."

Even mentioning Hal's position aloud makes my stomach sour. It's just another reminder that he's the one calling the shots here.

"Good to know," Perry says, dropping the line, then disappearing down below.

I sit down onto the bench and call Bertie over. "Come here, you sweet little thing, you." She hops along, tongue lolling to the side, as she nuzzles against my leg. "How is it that you're so sweet and you master is such a—"

"Lo?"

A familiar feminine voice has me spinning around. "Bree? You made it!"

My friend and colleague stands on the dock with a bag of diving gear tucked under her arm, eyes roaming over the rusty boat. "This it?" Bree's dark eyebrows arch over her light gray eyes.

I reach for her bag, then lower my voice as I skirt a glance toward the cabin. "I'm afraid so. But if you think the boat is rough, just wait until you meet its captain."

She lets out a raspy chuckle as her brother catches up to us.

"Hey, Lo! Long time no see."

I wave to Buzz before helping Bree onto the boat. "Pretty sure it's only been a few weeks, but hey. It's still good to see you."

The man whose name matches his haircut laughs a little loudly, even for being out in the open. "Well, it still feels like too long. All Bree does is talk about how much she misses hanging out with you after work."

"Sorry." Bree sends me a sheepish smile. "Rhode Island is just so boring without your smiling face."

My heart warms, and I pull my friend into a hug. "It was probably just the sun you missed. Rhode Island is so dreary. I bet the next several weeks in South Carolina will brighten your outlook."

"And because you're here," she adds. "Now, tell me about this rough captain of ours." At this precise second, Perry climbs the ladder and eyes me like I just committed a felony.

"Um. Bree, let me introduce you to Perry, our friendly , noble captain." My smile widens into what has to be the fakest grin ever as I gesture toward Perry.

His gaze clings to mine as he shakes both Bree's and Buzz's hands. "It's a pleasure." But it doesn't sound like it's a pleasure. It sounds like he's just been told he needs to have an emergency root canal.

"So nice to meet you," Bree says in her giggly voice while sending me some serious side-eye. Lowering her voice, she whispers, "You didn't mention how handsome he is, Lo."

I send her the driest look I can manage. "That wasn't pertinent information."

Perry grunts and turns away, leaving me wondering if he heard our little convo. It hits me then that I didn't deny her statement. Will he read into that? I sure hope not. The last thing I need is for Perry to know that I find him attractive.

The sun sparkles over the water on our way out to Prater's shipwreck, and I'm struck again with how beautiful Willow Cove is. Rhode Island has its perks, I guess, but the South Carolina coast is quickly finding a place at the top of my list of favorite places.

If only the scowl Perry tosses over his shoulder at me and my crew every five minutes didn't put a dark cloud over this excursion. The "safety rules" he gave us before we embarked consisted of a handful of two-word sentences like, "Be careful. Don't die. Don't breathe in my vicinity." Okay, so that last one was made up, but still. He could've actually tried .

"Why do I get the feeling that our captain wants to toss us overboard?" Bree asks, leaning into my space and talking out one side of her mouth.

"Pretty sure that's because he would—well, me at least—if he got the chance."

Buzz chuckles from where he sits on Bree's other side. "Oh, come on. You can't blame the guy. We're basically holding him hostage for hours at a time and using his boat like a science lab."

I peer at Buzz from under my lashes. "We're paying him, though. Like actual money."

Buzz scoffs. "True. I'm kind of surprised he didn't try to press you for more money, considering he's our only option out there."

Buzz makes an excellent point. I hadn't thought of that until just now. Maybe Fran was right and Perry isn't as awful as he's letting us believe he is. I sit back as Bree and Buzz begin discussing their new accommodations at the Coralberry Cottages and give Perry a closer inspection. Could his boat be his main motivator for wanting to earn some extra money? I mean, it could certainly use a face-lift. Though he doesn't seem to mind its appearance—likes it the way it is, even. But he easily agreed to the price I set as if that amount would solve a problem for him.

Maybe he's in some sort of financial trouble and could use some extra cash? I purse my lips at the thought. Perry doesn't strike me as someone who's irresponsible with money. In fact, he looks more like a penny-pincher type.

The more I wonder about his reasoning, the more intrigued I become. And that could be dangerous. Because I'm an amazing excavator. If there's something I really want to find, it doesn't take me too long to discover it. Who knows what Perry keeps hidden underneath that grumpy but attractive exterior?

"Hey, you guys want some water? I'm thirsty." I tell my companions, knowing full well what I'm about to do probably crosses more than a few lines.

"I could use a water," Bree says while Buzz waves me off with a no thanks .

"Okay, brB." I shuffle toward the cab and shoot Perry a wide smile. "I'm going down to grab a few waters from the ice box. Want one?"

His lips curve downward as he flicks his gaze to mine. "No."

I blink waiting for a thanks to be tacked on the end of that "no," then realize I'd likely be waiting forever. "Okay, then." Turning away, I head down into Perry's cabin, eager to get a deeper glimpse into the man himself.

Maybe it's wrong to spy on his stuff, but curiosity gets the best of me sometimes. His cabin is small, only one long bench with a table in front and an oblong cot-looking bed on the left in front of a door that I'd guess leads to a bathroom of sorts.

A corkboard full of pictures and newspaper clippings hangs behind the bench, catching my eye. All the pictures look like family photos of younger versions of him and Jerica, along with a few faces I don't recognize. There's even a news article with Perry holding up what looks like a giant fish with that barely-there smile of his. The headline reads, "Local fisherman captures Big Betsy!"

I chuckle under my breath as I head toward the ice box and grab a couple of waters. When I slide the lid back, I accidentally knock a lanyard full of keys to the floor. Wincing and hoping Perry didn't hear that, I carefully move the ice box lid back in place.

As I bend to pick up the keys, the corner of a black and white photo peeks out at me from under the bench. I take the edge of the key and press it onto the corner before slowly dragging out the photograph.

At first glance, it looks like an old prom picture. Perry's in a tux with his arm around one of the most beautiful girls I've ever seen. Long, straight dark hair, a lithe figure in what appears to be a satin and lace dress. And he's looking down at her like a man who landed more than just the biggest fish in the county—he landed the love of his life.

I bite my lip while I stare at the picture, wondering who the mystery woman is. Is she still in Perry's life? Something tells me she's not, but I've been wrong before. Thinking that maybe this photo fell off the cork board, I place it back up there and stick it through with a tack.

I still don't know much more about our captain, but if that photo tells me anything, it's that Mr. Perry Ford has the capability to be soft after all.

Every time I'm underwater, it feels as though time stands still. Yet seeing a ship from the late eighteenth century lying on its side, covered in barnacles and other sea matter, proves that time passes here just as it does on land.

A thrill shoots through my entire body as Bree and I near the hundreds-of-years old wreckage. I pushed for this project, nearly begged Hal to convince the museum's research team that Prater's shipwreck was worth investigating. Up until two years ago, no one knew the location of the ship that hit an underwater sand bar and sank, leaving its crew to swim ashore. But when a local scuba diver discovered the wreckage, taking a couple blurry snapshots as proof, Prater's shipwreck, named after its last captain, became a dream destination for some maritime researchers, me included.

Hal said he could never get fully on board since there was no known treasure or anything of particular value aboard the Sirene when it sank, but it's still a treasured piece of history. At least, that's the message I drove home when I presented the board with the idea of unearthing this mysterious ship.

Now we're here, and I can say with confidence that the pictures didn't do it justice. I wave Bree over as I swim toward the bow, covered head-to-toe in scuba gear. The front of the ship boasts a massive mermaid—or siren, rather, to fit its name. Part of the carved creature is eroded, but her full form is easy to envision with an imagination like mine.

Signs of erosion cover the ship from end to end, marking just how long it's been suspended in its underwater grave. This is one of the oldest shipwrecks I've had the pleasure of excavating, and I can't help but wonder what it might've been like to live aboard this ship back in its day.

Part of today's goal is to explore the outer parts of the ship, and if we have time, measure its length. Unfortunately, our scuba gear only allows us to be underwater for about an hour at the most, so our time is limited. Which is why this investigation will take us weeks. There's measuring, exploration, sediment samples, and artifact excavation on the task list for the summer, and I can't wait to literally dive in.