Deep Blue (27 page)

“Hope, honey, what is it? Did you and Conn have a fight?”

Hope shook her head, raked a hand through her hair. “Not exactly. It wasn’t really a fight. I just…I told him the truth, that’s all. That in two more weeks I’d be leaving. I’ll be going back to my job in New York. We both knew it would happen, sooner or later.”

“What did Conn say?”

“He said I could make other plans, find a different job.”

Glory bit her lip. “I guess you don’t want a different job.”

“It isn’t the job. I mean, I like my work, but I could find another job if I had to.”

“What then?”

“I just don’t want that kind of involvement. I don’t want to take the kind of risk you took when you married Joe. I couldn’t handle it if things went wrong.” There was something in Hope’s face, something dark and troubled.

Something that made Glory’s chest feel tight. “What happened to you, Hope? Someone must have hurt you really badly.”

Hope turned away and stared out over the water. The sun was down, the water dark and still. For the moment none of the men were around and the deck was quiet.

“I loved a man once,” Hope said, “or at least I thought I did. We lived together. We were going to get married.”

“What happened?”

“A couple of months before the wedding, I got pregnant. I was so happy. Richard seemed really happy, too. I wanted a baby so much. I wanted a husband and family.” She blinked a couple of times and Glory could tell she was fighting not to cry. This was obviously a very painful subject.

“Then what happened?”

“I got pregnant. It was an accident, but I thought it was wonderful. I thought Richard would think so, too.” She took a shaky breath. Two weeks before the wedding, I came home early from work. I opened the bedroom door and there he was, naked in our bed, making love to my best friend.”

The darkness in Hope’s expression was nothing compared to the emptiness in her eyes. Glory had never seen anything like it. She was afraid to ask more but something told her Hope needed to say it, to get it out in the open.

“What…did you do?”

Hope swallowed and tears glinted in her eyes. “I looked at them and I felt sick inside, sick and betrayed. I turned and started running. Richard followed me as far as the front door of the apartment. He was yelling for me to stop, telling me he was sorry, but I just kept going. I ran into the elevator and when the doors opened in the lobby, I ran out. It was winter. The front steps of the apartment building were icy, and I fell.”

She leaned forward, her hair obscuring her face. “Oh, God, I can remember the exact moment I hit the sidewalk, how cold it was, how my belly clenched in pain, and I knew.
I knew.
In that moment, I knew that I had killed my baby.”

Her body shook with silent sobs as she stared back out to sea. Unconsciously, she wrapped her arms around her middle as if the baby were still inside.

Glory was afraid to touch her, afraid if she did, her fragile control would shatter completely. “Richard killed your baby, Hope, not you.”

She turned, her eyes bleak and filled with tears. “Yes…Richard killed my child. My baby was only two months old, but I loved it. I loved it so very much.”

The tears spilled onto her cheeks. Glory put her arms around her friend. “It’s all right, honey. Sometimes bad things happen.”

“I know.”

“In time, you’ll get past it. One of these days you’ll have another child to love.”

Hope straightened away from her, took a deep, shaky breath. “That isn’t going to happen, Glory.” She wiped away the wetness with a hand that trembled. “I can’t trust enough to love. I can’t take the risk that something like that might happen again.”

Glory wanted to argue, to tell her that loving someone was worth any kind of risk, but Hope’s bleak expression said it wouldn’t do any good.

“You just need time,” she said softly. “In time, you’ll feel different.”

Hope tried to smile. “I hope you’re right.” But it was obvious she didn’t really believe it.

“Are you going to be okay?”

Hope nodded, her usual self-control settling back into place. “Thank you for listening. I’ve never told that to anyone before. Not even my sisters. Somehow I just couldn’t.”

Glory’s throat closed up. She gave Hope a last long hug. “Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me.”

Hope nodded and both of them turned toward the sea.

Glory’s heart went out to her friend.

And to Conn. It was obvious he was in love with her. Glory prayed he would find a way to win Hope’s trust. If he did, Glory was sure he would also win her love.

Conn watched Talbot’s fancy leased yacht pull up near the
Conquest
the following day. Apparently, Brad’s celebrity guests had flown back to Jamaica, but Brad was staying until tomorrow. The redhead came back with him, hanging on Brad’s every word. Talbot must have noticed the heated glances she’d cast Conn’s way the last time she was aboard. She was far more circumspect today, careful to keep her eyes firmly fixed on Brad whenever Conn was around.

He started along the deck to where his partner stood at the rail, watching as the crane brought up a load of silver bars. Next to Brad, Tommy Tyler madly snapped away on his digital camera.

“This is incredible,” Talbot said to Tommy as the crane set the metal basket down on the deck.

“Yeah, and they haven’t even really started digging into the ballast pile.” Tommy snapped another shot.

“But there’s still no sign of the Maiden.”

Tommy grinned. “You’ll make a ton of money even if they don’t find it.”

Conn walked up to the men just then. “Sorry to interrupt, but I need to talk to you, Brad.”

Talbot smiled. “Sure. No problem.”

They moved down the deck to a place on the stern where no one could hear them. Though a stiff breeze blew across the deck, not a strand of Brad’s blond hair, cut short and perfectly groomed, ever so much as waved. His eyes, hidden behind his Armani sunglasses, seemed to take in his surroundings without the need to turn his head.

“A few days back something happened to Hope,” Conn said.

“That so?”

“It seems a couple of guys roughed her up pretty good outside her motel room in Kingston, told her she had better keep her nose out of other people’s business. It was a warning not to pursue the Hartley House story.”

“I didn’t know she was still working on it.” Brad looked sincere. But then he was good at that.

“She isn’t. Not anymore. She’s out of it completely.”

“Smart girl.”

“It would be equally smart for anyone who might think of hurting her again
not
to try it. That person might end up with more trouble than he can handle.”

Only Brad’s mouth moved. “Now it sounds like you’re giving
me
a warning.”

“I am.”

“What does any of this have to do with me?”

“Maybe nothing. Maybe something. Whichever it is, I don’t want Hope getting hurt.”

Talbot shrugged. “If she’s off the story like you say, I don’t see any reason for her to get hurt.”

“Exactly,” Conn said, his eyes hard on Brad’s face.

The redhead sashayed up just then. “Well, here you are, you naughty boy. I’ve been looking all over. I’m getting lonesome, sweetie pie.”

Brad gave her a slightly too-wide smile and slid an arm around her waist. “I can take care of that. We’ll go back to the yacht. I’ll have the chef prepare something special for lunch and have it sent down to my cabin. I’m sure I can think of something to keep you entertained until the food gets there.” He reached up and squeezed one of Mandy’s enormous breasts.

The redhead giggled and slapped his hand away. “Brad!”

Talbot turned to Conn, his smile still in place. “Let me know if you run across the Maiden.”

“I’ll do that,” Conn said.

He watched Talbot walk away, the redhead plastered to his side. He hoped Talbot heeded his warning. He wanted Hope safe and he would do whatever it took to insure that she was.

He was still pissed at her. She could be a damned hard lady when she wanted.

But he knew it was partly his fault. He should have known convincing her to stay with him wouldn’t be that easy. He would give her some time, let her mull over the notion for a while, but he wasn’t giving up.

Conn wasn’t a man who accepted failure.

He got what he wanted. And he wanted Hope Sinclair.

A calm sea surrounded them in the darkness. A fingernail moon hung over the water, casting a thin track of light. Sitting in the galley, Hope chatted amiably with the men. King had made a tasty meal of conch chowder and homemade bread that the guys gave rave reviews.

Glory and Joe cuddled together on the opposite side of the dinette, staring at each other as if there were no one else in the room. They seemed so happy, so much in love. Hope thought of the conversation she’d had with Glory and had to admit that telling her secret to a friend, speaking the awful words out loud, had somehow made her feel better.

It was a gift of sorts, something good she could take home with her when she went back to New York.

Seated next to Conn as she usually was, she finished her chowder and last bite of warm buttered bread, flicking an occasional glance in his direction. He hadn’t said much during the meal. She knew he was still brooding over the harsh words she’d flung at him in the cabin.

She wished she hadn’t said them.

Even more, she wished that they weren’t true.

But the fact remained, she would be leaving and it would happen soon. She had completed her last article, sent it in over the Internet, and received praise for a job well done. In the next few days, she was bound to hear from her employer. Any day now, she would have to go back to New York.

She looked over at Conn, her chest feeling heavy. For the last few nights they had slept together in the narrow bunk, but they hadn’t made love. She had lain there aching for him, loving him and desperately wishing she didn’t. Part of her wanted to run from him again, get as far away from her unwanted feelings as she possibly could.

But now that the time to leave was drawing near, the other part wanted to stay with him forever.

She left him in the galley talking to Joe and headed up on deck. It was dark outside, only a sliver of moon, but the night was warm and clear, the stars a spray of diamonds overhead. She was thinking of Conn, the breeze tugging at her hair, when Andy walked up beside her.

“You got a phone call, Hope. It’s that guy, Gordy Weitzman, who called you before.”

A thread of unease slipped through her. She was off the story. She should have e-mailed Gordy. Then again, maybe the call had nothing to do with Hartley House.

“Thanks, Andy.” He handed her the satellite phone and she pressed it against her ear. “Gordy?”

“Hi, Hope. It’s good to hear your voice.”

“You, too.”

“Listen, I’m sorry to bug you, but that lawyer friend of yours called.”

“Matt Westland?”

“Yeah. He was trying to get hold of you. I wasn’t sure I should give him your number so I said I’d take a message.”

“Listen, Gordy, I’m off the Hartley House story. Things were really getting rough.”

A heartbeat passed. “I heard what happened to Jimmy Deitz. Wait a minute—are you saying his
accident
had something to do with Hartley House?”

“I’m not saying anything, Gordy.”

“Wow. I didn’t put two and two together. I guess I should have.”

“Probably better if you don’t.”

“Listen, Westland called to tell you your friend, Mrs. Finnegan, inherited the property.”

Her stomach instantly knotted. “Oh, no.”

“’Fraid so.”

“Tell me she’s going to sell.”

“Westland doesn’t think so.”

Hope started trembling. “Oh God, Gordy. Mrs. Finnegan’s an old woman. She can’t fight people like these. I’ve got to call her. Try to talk some sense into her.”

“Maybe you should just stay out of it.”

“I’ve been trying to. Somehow I can’t seem to make it happen.”

“Well, whatever you do, I wish you luck. Be careful, Hope.” Gordy signed off and Hope stood there clutching the phone.

It was too late to make the call tonight. With a sigh, she headed for the chart room to return the phone to its usual spot. Conn was waiting when she got there, his eyes on her face.

“Who was it?”

She thought about lying, but only for an instant. As Conn had said, she was a very bad liar. “Gordy Weitzman. He called to tell me Mrs. Finnegan inherited Hartley House.”

“The old woman at the funeral?”

“That’s her.”

“Christ, I hope she’s planning to sell.”

“Not according to Matt Westland, the attorney who’s been representing the tenants.”

He pinned her with a glare. “Don’t even think about calling her, Hope. You’re out of this, remember?”

“I have to call her, Conn. I have to try to make her see reason.”

“No.” She was still holding the phone. Conn snatched it out of her hand. “You’re out of it, Hope. If I have to throw the goddamned phone overboard to keep you from risking your life, that’s exactly what I’ll do.”

Her temper began to rise. “I just want to talk to her, Conn. No one’s going to know.”

“I’m telling you it isn’t going to happen and that’s what I mean.” He handed the phone to Andy. “She’s not to make any calls unless I say so.”

Andy flicked a regretful look at Hope, then nodded to Conn. “You’re the boss.”

Hope made a sound of exasperation and marched toward the ladder.
Big, hulking, overprotective brute.
She didn’t want to get involved again any more than he wanted her to, but there were things a person just had to do.

Sooner or later, the chart room would be empty. One call might save a woman’s life. Eventually, she would get the chance to phone New York and when that opportunity came, Hope intended to take it.

The chance came sooner than she expected.

The day Brad Talbot left to return to Jamaica aboard the Pleasure Island plane, Conn sent a shipment of treasure with Brad and one of his security men to be delivered to the bank. Since then, the hold and the safe were filling up again.

With so much treasure aboard, Conn, Joe, Wally, and Ron were taking two-hour night shifts, patrolling the deck in case they had unexpected visitors. Conn had drawn the late shift, then returned to bed at dawn to catch a couple of hours sleep.

Hope wasn’t sleepy. And she didn’t want to lie next to him, feeling the heat of his body, wanting him and wishing she didn’t, knowing all she had to do was reach out and touch him and he would make love to her.

Instead, slipping quietly out of bed, she left him sleeping and headed for the galley. Most of the crew was there, she saw, including Captain Bob and Andy Glass.

Hope cast a glance toward the chart room. With no one around, this was the chance she needed. She could use the phone and put it back before anyone would know she had been there.

The cell sat in its usual place on the counter. She glanced around, hurriedly reached for it, and punched in the number for information. She dialed again, listened to the ring, and waited impatiently for someone to answer.

“Mrs. Finnegan?”

The old woman had always been an early riser. “Hope? Is that you, dear?”

“Mrs. Finnegan, I don’t have much time. I called to talk to you about selling Hartley House. I know that isn’t what you want to do, but it’s too dangerous for you to try to fight these men any longer.” Briefly, Hope explained what had happened to the detective she had hired and the threat she had received outside the Wanderer’s Inn.

“I’m sorry to hear you were hurt. You shouldn’t have called, dear. You mustn’t involve yourself any longer.”

“Please, Mrs. Finnegan, what you’re doing is just too dangerous.”

“I’m an old lady, dear. If something happens, it just does.”

“What about the inheritance tax?” Hope asked in desperation. “What about the condemnation? Even if you could prove your case, you would have to have money enough to fix up the building.”

Mrs. Finnegan chuckled over the line. “I have plenty of money, dear. I never said much about it. I live a modest life and that’s the way I like it. Buddy knew the truth. He knew I’d have more than enough to pay the tax and do the needed repairs. He had already made arrangements to have the work done, so it won’t be that hard.”

“Mrs. Finnegan, you are risking your life.”

“Like I said, I’m an old woman. I haven’t got many years left and those I have won’t be worth living if I have to give up my friends. We all talked it over. We’re going to keep fighting for Hartley House.”

Hope’s eyes slid closed. There was nothing else she could say, nothing she could do. “If I think of anything that might help, I’ll let you know.” Pressing the
END
button, she quietly hung up the phone.

Conn was standing in the doorway when she looked up, a hard look on his face. “Was that who I think it was?”

She felt the burn of tears. “Please don’t be angry. I had to call her. I had to try.”

Conn released a breath, crossed the room, and wrapped her up in his arms. “I know you did. You’ve got more courage than any woman I’ve ever met. That’s one of the reasons I’m so crazy about you.”

Hope slid her arms around his neck and just hung onto him.
I love him,
she thought.
I love him so much. Oh, God what am I going to do?

He kissed the top of her head. “I don’t suppose you convinced her?”

“I wish I had.”

Conn sighed. “You tried, baby. That’s all anyone can do.”

She’d tried. Maybe Mrs. Finnegan would think over what Hope had said. God, she prayed the old woman would eventually see reason.

And that Adelaide Finnegan wouldn’t end up like Buddy Newton.

The day slipped past. It was almost sunset, the distant sky streaked orange, pink, and blue, the sun a huge red ball mirrored by the sea. The divers were making their last dive of the day, Joe and Wally on the hookah lines.

Conn stood at the rail next to the crane, directing Pete to move the arm a little farther out over the ballast pile, when he spotted Andy running toward him.

“Conn! Hurry! You have to come quick!”

Worry hit him. Then he saw the grin on Andy’s face. “What is it? What’s going on?” Conn fell in behind him, both of them anxious to reach the chart room.

“They’ve found something. It’s wedged beneath a thick layer of ballast, but Joe thinks it could be the Maiden.”

Conn felt a jolt of adrenaline. As they entered the chart room, he could hear Joe’s excited voice coming over the speaker.

“Man, I think this might be it! Whatever it is, it’s gold and it looks like a big chunk of it.”

Hope must have heard the commotion. She came down the ladder and walked toward him. “What is it?”

“We aren’t sure yet. Joe thinks it might be the Maiden.” He turned toward the ladder. “I’m going down.”

Hope rushed after him. “What about your side?”

“It’s been almost two weeks. I’ll be fine.”

“It’s been eleven days, and you aren’t all that fine.”

He turned to look at her and the edge of his mouth faintly curved. “For someone without a heart, baby, you sure sound a lot like you care.”

She didn’t say anything to that, just kept dogging his steps toward the locker where he kept his dive gear.

“It’ll be dark by the time you get down there. You’ll just have to come back up.”

Conn looked over at Pete. “Get me a couple of dive lights. And something that will sit on a tripod. I’ll take the equipment down with me.”

Hope caught his arm. “Are you sure you won’t reinjure your side?”

He bent his head and gave her a brief, hard kiss. “I’ll be fine, but thanks for the worry.”

With a little help from Pete, he pulled on a wetsuit, put on his inflatable vest and an air tank, grabbed his fins and one of the new Divelink masks, and padded off toward the diving platform.

Hope watched him go. “Don’t you think it’s too soon for him to dive?” she asked Ron Keegan.

“If Joe’s found the Maiden, Conn deserves to be there when they bring it up.”

“I know, but—”

Ron squeezed her shoulder. “He’ll be fine.”

She supposed he would be. The bandages were off, but his stitches were still in, the entry and exit wounds still red, puckery, and swollen. She wished he wouldn’t go.

She caught sight of Tommy coming up from below with his camera. He hurried along the deck to the dive locker and started suiting up. Finding a priceless treasure like the Maiden, a statue rumored to be worth as much as ten million dollars—maybe more—was something none of them wanted to miss.

Making her way back down to the chart room to watch the search on the video screen, Hope walked up to Andy Glass, who stood in front of the monitor. By now the sun had completely set. The water was pitch-black except for the lights the divers pointed in front of them.

Sea grasses waved in the cones of light, casting eerie shadows. A long, slippery eel slid out from a cave created by the ancient stones, sneaking off out of sight in the darkness. In the distance, at the edge of the video screen, she thought she caught a glimpse of one of Talbot’s professional divers guarding the perimeter of the site, but the image was so far away she couldn’t be sure.

For minutes that crept like hours, Hope watched Conn and the others lifting away the big, round, algae-covered rocks, loading them into the basket attached to the crane, digging deeper and deeper into the ballast pile.

Every now and then, the bright yellow glitter of gold glinted between the mossy stones, and her pulse kicked up. Then Conn lifted one of the heavier pieces of ballast away and all of the divers froze.

Conn’s deep voice boomed over the speaker. “Well, folks, it looks like we’ve found the Maiden!”

In the chart room, a cheer went up. Captain Bob grinned from ear to ear. “It damned sure does!”

Even in the wavering light of the lamps, there was no way to mistake the incredible golden statue Conn held up in front of the camera, about eighteen inches long, the figure of a young, nude female with full, up-tilting breasts and wavy hair that spilled down to partially cover them.

The piece looked pre-Columbian, a fertility goddess, perhaps, a younger version of the rounded female figures Hope had seen in the South American section of the Natural History Museum. Except that instead of rough gray granite or shiny black onyx, the piece was formed of solid gold.

The divers slowly surfaced, bringing up the statue and their undersea lighting gear. Caught up in the excitement, Hope hurried up to the deck to watch the men come aboard. Conn and Joe broke the surface first, Tommy, Ron, and Wally just seconds behind. The divers pulled off their masks and set them on the platform next to where Conn had placed the Maiden. They slipped off their fins, climbed out of the water, and began to strip off the rest of their gear.