Page 56 of Ship Outta Luck

I seize on the idea. I can use this.

“These clowns are used to taking orders from you. They don’t like that I’m not falling in line.” I tilt my head, considering. “Lemme guess, you all served together, and you were in charge. They come when you call, so you’re all still working together, likely all at the same firm.”

Thorne looks surprised, but Thompson wears a huge grin.

Dean says nothing. Just glares.Glowers.

“Tell me I’m wrong.” I can’t seem to stop pushing.

No one answers, but Thorne shifts from foot to foot.

“What do I hear?” I ask, cupping a hand around my ear. “Oh, that’s right. Plausible deniability. My father taught me more than how to shoot a gun.” It’s my turn to glare at Dean. “Besides, not one of you knows these waters better than I do. I’ve built acareer out of researching the reefs and sandbars the wreck could be at. All that’s been stopping me is money and manpower.” I give Dean a smug look. “Now… well, now? It looks like I have both.”

“Woman’s got a point, boss,” Thompson drawls.

“It’s Dr. Legarde to you,” Dean snaps.

“I’m coming, whether you like it or not.” I look up at Dean, taking in the tendons tight in his neck, and I stand. “And I’m an asset.”

“You’re a liability, princess.” The boat rocks, punctuating his words.

“I can handle myself,” I say, raising the barrel of the gun. Just enough so he knows I’m serious.

He turns on me, gently pushing the shotgun barrel down, and I let him. A little frisson of excitement passes through me.

“Fine. But when I tell you to jump, you ask how high.” Dean draws himself up to his full height. Which is really very tall.

“Why would I need to jump?” I shouldn’t bait him.

I can’t seem to help it.

“And when I tell you to hide, you hide.”

“Hide? What, you didn’t like our distraction?” I bat my eyelashes.

He grunts. Thompson lets out a low laugh, even taciturn Thorne chuckling.

“Those are my conditions,” Dean finally manages.

Gotcha.

Lifting a finger, I give him a lazy salute.

“Now, what the hell does the sea glass mean?”

I swallow my first reply, words passing the lump in my throat.

“June?”

“It means we’re going to a beach and having ourselves a crab boil,” I say, handing him the shotgun.

He immediately takes the shell out of the chamber.

“I’m guessing you aren’t going to tell me what beach ahead of time?” Dean’s eyes narrow.

“You’re catching on,” I say in a sing-song voice. “But I’ll tell you where you and your band of merry military men can pick up a propane tank and the rest of the boil supplies. Ever heard of Wal-Mart?”

Thompson guffaws. “I like you, Dr. Legarde.” He rubs his hands together and claps a hand on Thorne’s shoulder. “Alright, doc, you make the list, we’ll do the shopping. But when I get back, I wanna hear all about this treasure ship you’re huntin’ for. Deal?”

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