Three Tequilas (Althea Rose 3) Page 9
“How are you feeling about today?” Trace asked, stretching his arms above his head. Sunglasses shielded his stunning blue eyes, even though the sun had barely begun to peek over the horizon.
“Not good,” I admitted.
“Anything pop for you that we should pay attention to?” Trace asked, easily referencing my psychic abilities without any judgment. Point in Trace’s column on that one, I thought bitterly.
“I… well, I’ve done some studying. I think I may have some idea where to go,” I said, moving towards my dive bag. I wanted to show him my maps without Nicola around to see. I didn’t trust her and it wasn’t my job to provide her with research or direction on this dive. My job was clearly outlined in the contract – take underwater photographs of the expedition. Nowhere did it say anything about assisting in the discovery of the treasure.
I had checked.
“Is that so? What did you find?” Trace asked, his interest piqued.
“Well, I had some help from Miss Elva,” I said. “She sent me some info. A photograph of a map. I doubt it’s even on record anywhere on the internet.”
“Shut up,” Trace said, excitement lacing his voice.
“Yeah, I spent almost all night researching it. Not like I was going to sleep anyway.” Oops, didn’t mean to bring that up.
Trace studied my face.
“You do have dark circles under your eyes. Trouble in paradise? Or just worried about this expedition?”
I debated lying to Trace about my current state of affairs with Cash. But we’d never lied to each other before – and when it came down to it, Trace and I were friends first.
“It looks like Cash and I are taking a bit of a break,” I said carefully, waiting for Trace to crow in delight.
Instead, he reached out and put an arm around my shoulders, pulling me in to him for a squeeze.
“I’m sorry you’re hurting.”
Well, shit. If he had tried to move in on me, it would have been easy to push him away. But being kind and understanding? Sigh. Now my feelings were even more confused. Maybe I needed a girls’ retreat somewhere to cool things down – like a yoga retreat in Arizona.
Not that I did yoga.
“Isn’t this cozy. I had no idea you two were an item.” A brisk English voice interrupted us.
I pulled away from Trace and looked up to where Nicola stood on the dock. I almost snorted in laughter at the sight of her, but I held it in check. She was dressed as though she were going on safari. A short-sleeved button-down white shirt was tucked into khaki pants that ended at laced-up hiking boots. A wide-brimmed safari hat, reminiscent of Indiana Jones, was perched on her head and her sandy blonde hair was tied in a bun at the nape of her neck. A trim backpack was strapped to her back and she carried a canteen of water in one hand.
“We’re not. Are you going camping?” I asked, switching the topic.
Nicola looked down at her outfit and raised an eyebrow at me.
“I have fair skin. I believe this will be sufficient coverage for me, so long as I stay in the shade as well.”
“A vampire, eh?” I winked at Trace and he just shook his head, but a smile danced on his lips.
“Not everyone can handle this bright sun. And since I’m not diving, I’d like to protect my skin,” Nicola sniffed. She moved to step onto the boat, but Trace held up a hand to stop her.
“Shoes off.”
“What? I couldn’t possibly take off my shoes,” Nicola balked at his order.
“Shoes off or we don’t dive. Boat rules.” Trace pointed to our bare feet. “Shoes ruin the flooring. That’s why they make particular shoes called boat shoes for sailors to wear. The sole doesn’t scuff the boat.”
Nicola stared at him and two bright pink spots popped out on her cheeks. It was fascinating to watch her control her temper, and I made a note to pay careful attention to this woman. Maybe I’d be able to scan her thoughts at some point and figure out what else was going on behind the scenes of this expedition.
“Well, if that’s to be the way of it then,” Nicola bit out, forcing a small smile. She handed Trace her pack and canteen and then sat on the dock, taking forever to unlace her boots and fold her socks gently into them. I wondered if she was this precise with everything she did.
Trace held out a hand to help her onto the boat. I was startled to see neon orange nail polish on her feet.
“Cute pedicure,” I said, knowing it would throw her off.
“Ah, yes, well. Just a silly affectation really.” Nicola waved it away and moved to sit on the bench where her pack was.
“So you aren’t diving with us? I thought you’d be going out with us. Also, is it just you? Nobody else from the Institute is joining us?” I couldn’t fathom spending as much money as they were on this expedition and only having one person to head it all up.
“I don’t dive. And I’ll be monitoring and cataloging your finds and impressions as we conduct the dives throughout the day. I’m quite capable of managing a team of two on my own, thank you,” Nicola said briskly as she pulled a file folder and laptop from her bag.
“Fair enough. Women are better managers anyway – right, Trace?” I winked at him and he hooted a laugh and shook his head at me.
“Looking to pick a fight this early in the day, are we?” Trace smiled as he fired up the engines.
“Just teasing you,” I said brightly, but I was also re-thinking my strategy regarding Nicola. Maybe it would be better to align myself with her, as a girls-against-boys type thing – she might let down her guard a little bit.
“Were you?” Trace asked.
“I mean, I do run my own business. Two of them, actually. So I have no doubt in my mind that women are capable managers.” I shot a smile at Nicola and she smiled back.
Her first time smiling at me.
I hoped she’d let her defenses down. Because now mine were up even higher.
“So, where are we going today? We still don’t have coordinates,” Trace said, turning to look at Nicola.
“Yes, well, we weren’t prepared to give those coordinates over email or the telephone. We felt it best to wait until contracts had been signed and we were on board the boat.”
I looked at Nicola curiously as I moved towards the dock to untie the boat.
“I thought you hadn’t been involved in this until your uncle died.”
“That’s entirely untrue. My uncle was leading the expedition. However, I have been involved since the beginning. He… well, he had entrusted certain documents to me in the event that anything should happen.”
Now that statement was reading about a ten on my bullshit meter. I didn’t know what she was up to – but I knew she was lying.
Maybe Cash was right about me. Because this is where a normal person would back the heck out and go back to her day job instead of courting danger on the regular.
And yet I found myself untying the boat and standing there calmly as Trace reversed the boat and I jumped back on the bow. As we motored from the channel towards the ocean, Nicola held out a sheet of paper.
“I have a full list of coordinates. I think the best way to proceed is to just start at the top and go through the list.”
“Are they rated from, like, most likely to just taking a chance?” Trace asked, reaching for the sheet and plugging the first set of coordinates into his GPS.
“Yes, I believe we are starting with the most likely.”
Trace let out a low whistle as location popped up on his screen.
“I hope you don’t get seasick – this is at least an hour’s ride out.”
“It is?” Nicola visibly blanched at the words.
“Didn’t you look these coordinates up? They aren’t right off the coast. If they were, someone would have discovered the treasure long ago,” Trace said easily, his hand on the wheel.
“Ah, no, I can’t say that I have. I was a little too wrapped up in my head on the research and not on the actual practicalities of what it would take to get t
o these points.”
I raised an eyebrow at that but made no comment. Settling back onto the bench, I crossed my legs and smiled brightly at Nicola.
“Well, it will give us girls a chance to catch up while we head out there. Oh, and it looks to be a bit choppy today, so I’d hold on.” I smiled as Trace bumped our speed up while Nicola grabbed the post behind her, her knuckles going white as she gripped tightly.
Oh yeah. This was going to be interesting.
Chapter Nineteen
By the time we reached the dive site, Nicola was looking pale. Paler? Was it possible for someone as white as she was to become even more pale? But to her credit, she didn’t lose it overboard, though there was a time or two when I saw her grimace as the boat bounced across a particularly choppy wave.
“We’re approaching the site,” Trace said.
I went to stand next to Trace by the wheel to study the equipment. “What’s our depth? Will we be able to throw anchor?”
“I’ll do a grappling hook. We’re at about 120 feet of depth, but side sonar isn’t picking up much. I’m not sure we’ll see a wreck down here.”
“You don’t think the wreck is here? Then why even dive?” Nicola piped up from behind us.
I turned to look at her.
“Because shipwrecks don’t just sink nicely in one spot. Depending how they went down – if the hull splinters or it hits coral – debris can drift in a wide track from wherever the storm carried it. Just because the sonar isn’t registering a full wreck, doesn’t mean there isn’t something down there. The ocean is vast – it’s always worth investigating.”
Nicola looked suitably chastised and she nodded, sitting back down and scanning the horizon.
The sun was fully up now, and a light wind kicked up waves just into tiny whitecaps. As dive conditions went, they were as good as could be asked for when you were an hour off shore. I sat down by my BCD and began my safety check, checking my gauges, my O-ring, looking for any deterioration of my regulator hoses. Finding everything suitable, I slipped into my wetsuit, yanking the neoprene up my legs and sliding my arms in the sleeves.
“We’re hooked,” Trace said from the bow where he’d thrown the line overboard and let it trail until we’d hooked bottom.
“Throw a marker buoy too?”
“Already on it,” Trace said, holding up a small orange buoy and tossing it over the side.
“What’s a marker buoy?” Nicola asked.
“If the grappling hook causes the boat to drift a bit, we’ll be able to see where we were meant to be.”
“You mean the boat can drift? While I’m up here alone?”
“It shouldn’t. I’ll descend on the line and check the hook before we begin our dive,” Trace said soothingly. “But I’ll need to go over some safety procedures with you since you’re staying on the boat.”
I watched as Trace led her through the operation of the radio and the basics of driving the boat. Knowing Trace, we weren’t going to venture too far from the boat – I doubted he’d let it out of his sight. He was interested in the treasure – but his boat was his livelihood.
“All set?” Trace asked me.
“Yes, cameras are set. I’ve checked my gear,” I said, turning so he could zip up my suit. Together we did a buddy check on each other’s gear, Nicola watching us silently as we did so.
“You’re very thorough,” Nicola commented when we finished.
“Plan your dive and dive your plan,” I said.
“Safety checks are important. You don’t want to run into trouble at depth,” Trace said seriously.
“So, Nicola, I think what I’ll do is just start with an aerial view of the site, so to speak? I’ll take wider images as we descend and then as we begin to investigate anything that looks like a man-made reef, I’ll take more pictures. Does that work for you?”
“A man-made reef?” Nicola tilted her head in question.
“An artificial reef. Coral will build on structures that end up on the ocean floor. That’s why it’s often hard to discern what’s actually treasure and what isn’t – there will be a lot of build-up on it. So it’s best to go slow and take our time.”
“I have a metal detector as well – though it’ll do us little good when we’re searching for gemstones,” Trace shrugged.
“Why bring it then?” Nicola asked.
“Because it can alert us to the presence of other metal that went down with the ship, so we’ll know we’re in the right area,” Trace said patiently, putting his mask on his forehead.
For someone who was heading up a scuba diving expedition, this woman knew next to nothing about treasure hunting. Trace and I both moved to the dive platform, then, with one look at each other, we each took a giant stride into the water.
There’s nothing like descending into the depths of the ocean with a scuba tank strapped to your back. There’s all this sunshine and real-world stuff on the surface – then in seconds you are cocooned in a beautiful world of blue water. It’s both calming and exciting at the same time.
I held my camera in front of me and documented the dive site from above as we descended. We stayed close to each other, Trace following the line down to the grappling hook. Adjusting my buoyancy slightly, I waited as Trace tugged on the line and made sure the boat was secure.
Flashing me an OK sign, Trace motioned for me to follow him.
It would be a short dive today – you can only stay at one hundred twenty feet, breathing compressed air, for so long – so I stayed focused.
Where normally I would be bringing my camera up to take shots of the pretty queen angelfish darting by, instead I was firing off shots of any lump of coral that looked odd-shaped.
I kicked along next to Trace, floating comfortably in the water, watching him with his metal detector. In a matter of moments, he raised his hand and gestured me closer. I swam over to him, sinking so that my knees touched the ocean floor.
Trace dug around in the sand a bit – kicking up silt and ruining the visibility for my camera – but in moments, he held something in his hand. He handed it to me.
Initially, it looked like a barnacle-encrusted lump to me. But then I caught the dull gleam of something underneath all the muck. Hooking my camera strap through my arm, I reached down for the dive knife strapped to my calf, while Trace continued to dig in the sand. Using my knife, I began to work some of the barnacles free from the lump in my hand.
And was amazed to reveal what looked to be some sort of a gold cup.
Trace looked at me; I gave him the OK sign and then checked my dive computer. It was time to go up – we couldn’t stay at this depth much longer. Pointing to my computer, I gestured to Trace, and he nodded as he pulled out his dive bag. Together we gathered any other ‘barnacle-encrusted lumps’ we could find and put them in his bag.
As we began our ascent, I couldn’t help but feel excitement race through me. We’d found something on our first dive! I wondered what else the ocean floor would reveal to us.
And would it cost us more than we had bargained for?
Chapter Twenty
Three dives later, we’d found little else. Nicola’d gone into full-on researcher mode with what we had brought up from the ocean floor, though.
I relaxed back against the bench, my hair pulled into a loose knot on top of my head, a towel wrapped around my bathing suit. Taking a swig from my water bottle, I eyed Nicola as she pulled the cup from a cleaning solution she’d brought with her. With most of the muck removed from the surface, it gleamed dully in the afternoon sunlight.
“This is lovely, just really lovely,” Nicola cooed, angling the cup to look for any markings.
“Can you tell if we’re in the right century?”
“Yes, yes, it seems to be on par with the year we’re looking for. I’m quite certain we’re on the right track. Oh, this is just fantastic news. Quetz will be quite pleased.”
There was that name again – Quetz.
“Can you tell me more about t
his investor? You seem to be quite familiar with him,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest. Trace was at the front of the boat pulling the grappling hook up. We’d leave the marker buoy in its spot just in case we decided to come back tomorrow.
“No, I can’t. Sorry, it’s the legalities of it, naturally,” Nicola sniffed as she examined the cup with a small eye scope.
“Um, no, actually I don’t understand. But then, it’s not like I do these expeditions regularly.”
“Just imagine it as a large business, and you’re just the underlings the commands get filtered down to. You know – you don’t really get a say but you must do the work. That’s your job.”
So much for being friendly with this one, I thought. I opened my mouth to reply but caught a look from Trace. He just shook his head, and I closed my mouth.
Looked like it was my week for dealing with bitchy women, I thought. I crossed my arms over my chest as Trace gunned the engines and we headed for home.
Instead of striking up conversation again, I let the engine noise lull me into a sleepy state of mind as we made the trip back at full speed. I kept flashing through what I knew so far and what I still had questions about. The discovery today had lit Nicola up like a Christmas tree. And even though I knew they were really trying to find El Serpiente, I couldn’t help but think they were looking for more. Because – judging from the coordinates on the map Miss Elva had given me?
We were miles away from where we should have been diving.
Which meant we were looking for an entirely different wreck than the one they were telling us about.
Chapter Twenty-One