The Unspoken (Krewe of Hunters #7)

The Unspoken (Krewe of Hunters #7) Page 23

In the car she asked him, “Did you get some sleep?”

“Oh, yeah. I slept well.” He glanced her way. “Any more dreams?”

She shook her head. “No.” She looked out the window and then asked, “The cat’s going to be all right in your room, isn’t she?”

He nodded. “I left a note for the maid.”

“She slept at my feet all night,” Kat said.

“I’m sorry. Was she a pain?”

“No, I guess I’m growing to like her.”

Somehow, something had changed. She was aware of his scent, the sleek darkness of his hair and the strength of his hands and long fingers on the wheel.

It wasn’t a good idea. Really. It wasn’t.

She gazed straight ahead. “So, you think you’ll be fine working with my team?”

“Sure. Why not? They seem great, and God knows, we don’t have to hide anything about ourselves—and no one in either group is ever going to talk to anyone else about us. It’s like an instant fusion, you know?”

Instant fusion. Yes, well, that wasn’t exactly true. It had taken her more that an instant to feel this way.

Amanda and Jon were already at the lake. Bernie, Alan, Earl, Captain Bob and Jimmy Green were there as well, setting up for the day and planning to leave within fifteen minutes.

Alan King stood before them on the boat, hands on his hips. “So Austin Miller died of a heart attack?”

“Yes,” Will said, nodding gravely.

“Massive heart failure, actually,” Kat said.

Bernie joined them on the dock, Earl filming all the while. “Does that seem a little odd to you?” he asked.

“Odd!” Amanda came walking over. “Odd! The man was eighty-three or eighty-five or something like that, and he had a heart condition. What could be odd about heart failure? Oh, I know. You’re all thinking about the curse. Well, curses are idle threats. It’s just that the great and powerful didn’t want their graves robbed. Intelligent people don’t believe in curses.”

“Still,” Jimmy said, rolling a line of rope on his arm, “it’s a sad coincidence. A diver—the first diver to reach the ship, an experienced diver—drowned. And now, poor old Mr. Miller, dead of a heart attack. And both of these men were so committed to preserving history and respecting the past.”

Amanda looked at Will. “The FBI believes that an elderly man dying of heart failure is worthy of the taxpayer’s money?” she asked.

“Hey, we’re the FBI,” Will said cheerfully. “We think everything’s suspicious.”

“It’s sad,” Jon Hunt muttered. “Just sad. Austin Miller was a nice guy. I liked him a lot. He was passionate about the things he loved, and he was generous with local charities.” He glanced at Amanda. “You’ve got a one-track mind, Amanda. I miss Brady, and I’m really sorry about Mr. Miller.”

“I miss Brady, too,” she said. “But, please! An old man having heart failure? It happens, you know? He led a good life.”

“We can finish this argument as we move on out!” Captain Bob called. “Come on, people, time is money!”

Alan didn’t seem perturbed by the captain’s insistence that they get moving. Kat didn’t think it was because it was his money; she thought he was simply ready to be on his way.

There was a brief discussion as to whether both boats were necessary, but in the end, Amanda wanted the research vessel because of the equipment on board.

They took off for the dive spot side by side. As they headed out, Kat looked at Will, noting a strange expression on his face.

“What?” she asked him.

“I’m too easy to read, huh?”

“What are you thinking?”

The motor was loud and no one around could hear them.

“I’m thinking there’s something suspicious about Amanda,” he said. “Maybe that’s not fair. I don’t like her very much.”

“Mmm,” Kat said thoughtfully, “but we know she didn’t kill Brady Laurie. She was with Jon Hunt and the film crew, going down to the ship right behind him. She was seen by several people.”

“Yes. But this hasn’t been a one-person job.”

“But she was here. She couldn’t have been diving ahead of Brady because she and Jon were behind him, and she couldn’t have been on another boat for the same reason.”

“I know. It’s frustrating. But there’s something about her I just don’t like.”

“She’s abrasive,” Kat said, then inhaled a deep breath. “We could still be crazy—looking for something that isn’t there.”

He shook his head. “Get serious. You would never have supported me with McFarland when we saw Brady Laurie’s corpse if you didn’t know I was right.”

She turned away; Bernie had taken a seat on the other side of her.

“So, are we going to make it through this?” he asked. “I don’t believe in curses. Okay, so I say I don’t believe in curses. But this is starting to look more like the ‘Tut’ curse every day. A young diver—dead. An old Egyptologist who encouraged the search for the ship—dead.”

“There’s no curse, Bernie,” Will said. “Bad things happen sometimes. But no man has the power to invoke a curse, unless others let him do it. Unless they give him the power. Remember that, Bernie.”

“I’m remembering,” Bernie said. “I just hope we get through this,” he repeated.

“You know we will, Bernie,” Kat told him.

“If not, I’m looking for another line of work!” Bernie muttered. He got to his feet, calling out to Earl. “Hey, we’re coming up on the spot. Get some footage of the research vessel coming in.”

Once again, they suited up. The usual care was taken in descending. Jimmy Green watched over them like a watchdog while the security boat team and Captain Bob were on the lookout from above.

This time when she went down, Kat was determined to hover by the grand salon. She felt able to do so, knowing that Will would stay with her and that he believed in her—more than she believed in herself.

And so, while the others dove the next seven or eight feet downward and toward the aft, Kat held her ground, staring into the grand salon.

She began to see it all again.

She could almost hear the music.

And then it seemed that she was there. She was standing on the deck looking out at the beauty of the night, but she was watching it anxiously. One of the crew members had been talking about the feel of the air, saying that the wind didn’t seem to bode well. Someone else said they were nearly home, nearly at Chicago. She listened to the people as they walked past her. One man told the woman who clung to his arm that they were perfectly safe. He laughed at the idea of a curse.

“Could one person possibly reach out from the grave to hurt another?” the woman asked.

“Don’t be silly. Only the living hurt the living.”

Kat wanted to turn to the woman and tell her that the dead could come back, but they had no greater power than anyone alive—all they had was the strength to influence, to insinuate horror into the human mind, something done just as easily by the living. But although she seemed to be part of it all, she wasn’t. She couldn’t say anything. She was there—and yet she wasn’t.

She wanted to scream; she wanted to warn them to man the lifeboats, to get out while they could before the danger struck.

They didn’t understand that the danger wasn’t going to be the storm.

She turned to the water again, and it was coming. The dark shape that seemed to accompany the icy wind. She lifted her arms, as if she could push it back, as if she could somehow stop it. But the massive dark shadow was bearing down on the ship.

It was coming closer and closer….

A wall of water was washing over her and she was breathing it in. She began to choke.

She realized the frigid water was engulfing her.

She was drowning in it.

8

Kat was suddenly jolted. She felt someone shove something at her face, and her instinct was to fight back. But she realized the thing pushed into her mouth was her regulator. Will was forcing her to take it back; she’d evidently spit it out, forgotten to breathe. She tasted the cold water, felt it on her teeth. She coughed, choked, coughed up water, and then she was able to take in a sweet breath of air. She saw him looking at her, his dark eyes intense and huge behind his mask, and she felt his hands on her while he watched her, watched her breathe.

It seemed that aeons had passed, that the others must have seen her strange behavior. Seemed that it must be time to go back up.

It wasn’t. She saw that the others were busy down in the hold, looking at the doors that were ajar, those that were open and those that were sealed.

She inhaled deeply, and Will used his thumb to indicate that they should go back up; he was worried about her.

She shook her head, trying to smile. He frowned.

She shook her head more firmly and gave him an A-OK sign. She spoke around her mouthpiece, knowing the sound would be distorted. “I’m fine, really. Let’s finish.”

He didn’t look happy, but he didn’t stop her when she released more air from her BCV and continued downward to the hold. Earl Candy turned the camera on her and Will, and she went all the way to the bottom, determined to find more of the spilled treasure that was covered in zebra mussels and lake bed silt.

She was able to retrieve a few encrusted objects before Jimmy Green gestured that their time was up. As they moved toward the anchor line, she knew that Will was almost on top of her. He was still worried. She couldn’t protest. She might have drowned with seven people surrounding her if Will hadn’t been there to snap her from the past to the present.

Back on board, Kat was stunned that no one else had been aware of whatever had happened. With the camera going and Amanda taking center stage, demanding the ancient trinkets others had found to display before the camera, Kat couldn’t say anything to Will. He behaved as the others were behaving—happy about a productive dive that had allowed them to better chart and understand the condition and position of the ship, and the treasure that remained within. When everything had been shown, the real treasure of the day seemed to be a necklace. The true beauty of it would be hard to see until it was cleaned, but it was gold chain, Amanda said, with a golden sculpture of the god Horus attached. At last she finished with the camera and walked over to Alan. “That’s it. That’s all we brought up this time. He can turn the camera off.”