on a graphic of the area. “I don’t see the storm that Holden is worried about.”
“It’s coming,” her grandpa said calmly. “Don’t need fancy machines to tell me. I can feel it in the motion of the sea. If not in the next few days, then within the week.” He wrote in the captain’s log before he said, “Holden, is it? Do you fancy our new Brit?”
“He has gorgeous eyes,” she said, then laughed when Grandpa turned swiftly toward her. “Gotcha.”
“That you did, Kitty darling. Give an old man a hug.”
“You’re not an old man. You’re my grandpa.”
She went into his arms and was engulfed in the scents of the past—sea and tobacco and last night’s rum. His fringe of hair tickled her cheek. She was nearly as tall as he was, which surprised her. Age had compacted him, making his work-scarred hands and thick knuckles look too large for his wiry frame. When she was young, she used to believe he could hold up the sky with those hands.
Everything aboard the Golden Bough was so familiar. She could almost hear her parents laughing on the dive deck.
Part of Kate tensed, waiting for the nightmare to break free.
Nothing came but the clank and creak of a working boat, with the steady undertone of the generator making electricity.
“Did you hear what a diver pulled up?” she asked.
“Mingo,” her grandfather said.
“What?”
“Kid’s name is Mingo.”
“Oh. He pulled up almost two yards of gold chain,” she said.
“About time that whelp earned his keep.”
“Once you would have been shouting to the sky about the chain.”
“Then the treasure was mine. I don’t waste energy on another man’s gold. So what do you think about the Brit? You always were a shrewd little one.”
“Don’t be misled by his proper accent. He’s not just a stuffed shirt.”
Grandpa grunted. “Larry calls him Cookie Monster.”
Kate took a moment to absorb that her brother had already briefed her grandfather.
Just like the old days. Nothing personal. I’m a little girl, not a big manly man. Fun to tease, a decent cook, a good diver, and a great bookkeeper.
And if Larry thinks Holden is as amiable as Cookie Monster, he’s in for an unhappy surprise.
“Well,” Grandpa said philosophically, “maybe the new Brit will be more use than Malcolm the Geek. If it’s not in a dive log, Malcolm doesn’t see it. On the other hand, he doesn’t get in the way. Hope this Cameron fellow doesn’t, either.”
“Sharks don’t get in the way,” she said. “They just follow their teeth.”
“Shark, huh? Maybe I’ll arrange a meeting between him and Benchley, show him what real teeth look like.”
“Who’s Benchley?”
“The fourteen-foot tiger shark that began cruising around the Golden Bough not long after we set up shop out here.”
Kate remembered the muscular black shadow cutting across the dive screen, a shark overwhelming a rectangular goldfish bowl. “You dive with a tiger?”
“You’ve been away too long,” Grandpa Donnelly said. “Sharks are a fact of life for divers here. To the crew, Benchley’s good luck, so long as he isn’t hungry. This Cameron fellow gets in the way, we’ll feed him to Benchley.”
“It wouldn’t help. The Brits would just send someone else.” But he probably wouldn’t look like Holden, all surefooted and dragon-eyed.
Kate cut off the thought. She’d clearly been knocked loopy by being aboard again.
“Maybe the Brits would lose interest,” Grandpa said.
“That’s not going to happen. Especially now that we’ve found some more signs that this is an old Spanish wreck.”
The old man smiled bitterly. “What Mingo has in his hands is a trifle. I’ve pulled out money chains that could girdle the wheelhouse three times and have enough left over to put diesel in the boat for a month of cruising.”
“Grandpa, you were lucky to find even this wreck. There’s only so many left out there in easy reach.”
“What makes you think I found this? I’m
“It’s coming,” her grandpa said calmly. “Don’t need fancy machines to tell me. I can feel it in the motion of the sea. If not in the next few days, then within the week.” He wrote in the captain’s log before he said, “Holden, is it? Do you fancy our new Brit?”
“He has gorgeous eyes,” she said, then laughed when Grandpa turned swiftly toward her. “Gotcha.”
“That you did, Kitty darling. Give an old man a hug.”
“You’re not an old man. You’re my grandpa.”
She went into his arms and was engulfed in the scents of the past—sea and tobacco and last night’s rum. His fringe of hair tickled her cheek. She was nearly as tall as he was, which surprised her. Age had compacted him, making his work-scarred hands and thick knuckles look too large for his wiry frame. When she was young, she used to believe he could hold up the sky with those hands.
Everything aboard the Golden Bough was so familiar. She could almost hear her parents laughing on the dive deck.
Part of Kate tensed, waiting for the nightmare to break free.
Nothing came but the clank and creak of a working boat, with the steady undertone of the generator making electricity.
“Did you hear what a diver pulled up?” she asked.
“Mingo,” her grandfather said.
“What?”
“Kid’s name is Mingo.”
“Oh. He pulled up almost two yards of gold chain,” she said.
“About time that whelp earned his keep.”
“Once you would have been shouting to the sky about the chain.”
“Then the treasure was mine. I don’t waste energy on another man’s gold. So what do you think about the Brit? You always were a shrewd little one.”
“Don’t be misled by his proper accent. He’s not just a stuffed shirt.”
Grandpa grunted. “Larry calls him Cookie Monster.”
Kate took a moment to absorb that her brother had already briefed her grandfather.
Just like the old days. Nothing personal. I’m a little girl, not a big manly man. Fun to tease, a decent cook, a good diver, and a great bookkeeper.
And if Larry thinks Holden is as amiable as Cookie Monster, he’s in for an unhappy surprise.
“Well,” Grandpa said philosophically, “maybe the new Brit will be more use than Malcolm the Geek. If it’s not in a dive log, Malcolm doesn’t see it. On the other hand, he doesn’t get in the way. Hope this Cameron fellow doesn’t, either.”
“Sharks don’t get in the way,” she said. “They just follow their teeth.”
“Shark, huh? Maybe I’ll arrange a meeting between him and Benchley, show him what real teeth look like.”
“Who’s Benchley?”
“The fourteen-foot tiger shark that began cruising around the Golden Bough not long after we set up shop out here.”
Kate remembered the muscular black shadow cutting across the dive screen, a shark overwhelming a rectangular goldfish bowl. “You dive with a tiger?”
“You’ve been away too long,” Grandpa Donnelly said. “Sharks are a fact of life for divers here. To the crew, Benchley’s good luck, so long as he isn’t hungry. This Cameron fellow gets in the way, we’ll feed him to Benchley.”
“It wouldn’t help. The Brits would just send someone else.” But he probably wouldn’t look like Holden, all surefooted and dragon-eyed.
Kate cut off the thought. She’d clearly been knocked loopy by being aboard again.
“Maybe the Brits would lose interest,” Grandpa said.
“That’s not going to happen. Especially now that we’ve found some more signs that this is an old Spanish wreck.”
The old man smiled bitterly. “What Mingo has in his hands is a trifle. I’ve pulled out money chains that could girdle the wheelhouse three times and have enough left over to put diesel in the boat for a month of cruising.”
“Grandpa, you were lucky to find even this wreck. There’s only so many left out there in easy reach.”
“What makes you think I found this? I’m
Similar Books
