Page 18 of Austen

Oh, she longed for yesterday.Any day, really, when she was safely on land.Or on her boat.

Her poor boat.Where theFancy Freemight be...

“I love this!”Margo walked into her brain, ran her hand along the teak rail of the fishing boat, all sanded and gleaming.“You got this for a hundred bucks?”

It was a hot, sunny day, the boat still on the hard in a boatyard north of Key West, the scent of varnish and sawdust rising from the deck.

Margo reached for one of the bottles of lemonade in the dinged-up cooler and sat beside Austen on an overturned bucket, her long dark hair tied back, in a pair of cutoff shorts and a tie-dyed sleeveless T-shirt.“I see only one problem with your suggestion that I move in.”

If Austen remembered right, she had waged a small defense of her accommodation—free rent, and they could dive right from their “home,” not to mention the free slip she’d gotten for working at the Galleon.

“No, silly.I mean the fact that the boat isn’tin the water.”

Right.“Two weeks and we have a date with the boat hoist.”

Margo had leaned over, tipped the neck of her bottle to Austen’s.

Austen would blame her parched throat for the memory of the lemonade, cool and sharp in her mouth.That and the fresh shrimp Margo had brought from town.

They’d made a picnic, right there on the deck, amidst all her hopes and Margo’s dreams.“You know,freemeans you can expand your tie-dying operation.”

Margo had slid to the deck, sitting cross-legged, peeling shrimp, dunking it into homemade cocktail sauce.“You’re missing the point.Freemeans we can hunt for the wreck of theSan Miguelanytime we want.”She’d winked.“We’re so close, I can feel it.”

Austen had closed her eyes.No more.

“Someday, Tennie, I’m going to find it.The statue of Santa María de la Paz.”

It had felt like such a dream, but Margo had believed, so she had too.

A hum sounded, and Austen opened her eyes, looked up.

A plane, commercial, too far overhead to see her, but she waved anyway, desperately, her throat filling.

She’d tried to swim earlier, but the storm and the ocean current had fought her, and by nightfall, the shivering had taken over.More fear than cold, maybe.

The plane left a trail of white in the sky.Probably headed to one of the larger airports—the DR, or even Puerto Rico.

Mariposa?

Aw.Now Declan strolled in, even as the waves tossed her, the current stirring up around her.“Declan, you are a surprising man.”

The words had sort of rolled out of her, her emotions caught up in the moonlight, the music, the fact that he’d pulled her into a dance that felt a little more than polite.

As if...

But he’d worn an almost pained expression, andoh, she’d just...

Well, he was simply a nice guy.A really nice guy.Sure, he occasionally seemed to look at her with something of interest.And they’d worked well together after the landslide, but then again, he’d been in charge and she’d only been trying to help...

“He’s a criminal, Austen.”

Yeah, no.She just didn’t buy it.Then again, maybe she was being naive.She had a history of trusting the wrong people, so...

Oh, if she got out of this, Stein was going to murder her.

“You’re amazingly brave, Austen.I thought you were going to die down there.”

Aw,Declan was back, and this time handing her a towel as she climbed onto the boat after the near tragedy during their dive event.He’d seemed shaken, and for a second, she’d thought...well, that he might have been worried abouther.Maybe, but his new codirector had nearly run out of air at the bottom, so...

---