Eyes of Fire (22 page)

Sam hesitated for a second. “There was a theft of certain Spanish jewels at just around the same time,” she said. “I'd never heard of the theft in conjunction with the
Beldona
before, but my father was convinced that Don Carlos Esperanza had stolen the jewels. He was a man of standing in the community, and well to do, but not as rich as royalty, and it was often said that the young lady's attraction to Captain Reynolds had a great deal to do with the fact that Captain Reynolds was as rich as Croesus. My father believed that, to convince the sweet and lovely young Theresa-Maria to fall in love with him, Don Carlos Esperanza stole the two missing Crown rubies. They were a matched set of rings, with enormous stones, nicknamed the Eyes of Fire.”

“Such jewels would definitely be enough to interest Robert Santino in finding the
Beldona.
”

Sam sat down across from him. “It's obvious that Santino wants to find the ship. And maybe he's sent his son here as a spy or whatever. But anyone can look for the ship. There's nothing illegal in that.”

“There
is
something illegal about it if one party murders another party of that search.”

She raised a hand. “Let me try to get a solid grasp on everything you know—and suspect. Avery Smith is really James Jay Astin, we've established that. SeaLink is naturally interested in the discovery of the
Beldona.
They're a marine company, and they have the financial backing and the wherewithal to bring up the treasure, should it be found. However, we have to assume that someone else is working for SeaLink—doing the actual diving with us, since we have the charming company of Mr. Smith for dinner but have yet to see him on the dive boat. Okay, back to the jewels. We have Jim Santino, son of organized crime boss Robert Santino—a man who might kill without blinking to acquire certain Spanish treasures. So it should be simple. One of them had probably been involved in the search for a long time, and when my father found the ship, he was killed.”

“You think your father found the ship?” Adam said.

Sam nodded.

“Then what happened?”

“What do you mean?”

“If he found the ship and was killed for finding it, why is the ship still missing?”

“I don't know. It doesn't make any sense, does it?”

“If someone killed him once he found the ship so they could seize the treasure for themselves, wouldn't the treasure and the ship have surfaced by now?” Adam mused.

“And why is Hank still missing?” she added.

Adam cleared his throat awkwardly and stood. “I've just found out about another guest on your island.”

“Who?” Sam asked.

“I'd asked a friend of mine who's with the Metro cops in Dade County to do some searching for me. There was a diver with suspected crime connections who washed ashore about a week after your father's disappearance was reported.”

Sam arched a brow. “Washed up—dead?”

“Yes.”

“Adam, if he was dead then and he's on the island now, something strange is definitely going on.”

“Not the dead man,” Adam said, exasperated.

“Then…?”

“His name was Marcus Shapiro.”

“There are no Shapiros here.”

“Your honeymooner is his son.”

“My honeymooner—Joey Emerson?”

Adam nodded.

“You think that Joey Emerson is here for a reason other than his honeymoon?”

“Well, I know that Emerson isn't the name he was given when he was born.”

“But he looks so…”

“Harmless?”

“Doting,” Sam said.

“Pussy whipped.” Adam laughed.

She cast him a glance of irritation. “Like Brad Walker would say, Joey and Sue are all mush.”

“They may really be honeymooners.”

“Right. So, this Marcus guy washed up on the Florida coast. Was he connected to the island in any way?”

“Not that I know about. He might have worked for Robert Santino now and then.”

“So Joey may just be a nice young man on his honeymoon who changed his name because his dad had mob connections.”

“Maybe.”

“You're suspicious of everyone.”

“Sam, someone on this island tried to kidnap you,” he said in exasperation.

“There is the possibility that whoever attacked me isn't a guest. Other boats do come here. Lots of people stop by for our lunch and dinner buffets, even breakfast. Sometimes they stop just for directions.”

“There is a slight possibility that our attacker came from somewhere else.”

“But you don't believe that.”

“Not for a moment.”

“So what
do
you think?”

“I don't know.”

She threw up her hands. “Who are you working for?” she asked again.

“I told you that I'd tell you soon. Very soon. For now, don't you think we'd maybe better get on over for cocktail hour?”

“I think cocktail hour is over.”

“I'm famished, aren't you?”

“Yes, I suppose,” she murmured.

“Weren't you the one in a hurry before?”

“Before I thought that you weren't telling me something important.”

He flashed her a smile. “You're not telling me everything, either.”

“I'm trying to.”

“So am I,” he said softly. “Let's go over, shall we?”

Sam stared at him, then nodded slowly. “Yes, let's go over.”

It was Chinese night. Jacques had put together three different kinds of lo mein, vegetable, beef and pork. The fried rice came in “house special” and vegetarian. There were deliciously seasoned little ribs, shrimp or vegetarian egg rolls, hot and sour soup, mushu pork and beef, chicken chow mein, and more.

The mood in the dining room seemed strangely festive.

Sam was glad to see that Yancy had come down, and that the baby was with her as well. Sukee had decided to play with Brian, who was in his high chair, contentedly gumming a teething cookie and watching the conversation around him.

“Yancy, you okay?” Sam asked her, getting a word in while replenishing one of the chafing dishes.

Yancy jumped, startled. She looked pale.

“I'm, uh, fine. Why wouldn't I be?”

“I thought you didn't feel well this morning.”

“I was tired this morning, that's all.”

Tired, and jumpy, Sam thought. Either that, or she was becoming paranoid herself, seeing things in others that just weren't there.

“Jem's cousin Matthew came in on the mail boat. He and Jem took their dinner over to Jem's cottage,” Yancy said, changing the subject.

Sam frowned. “I don't want you left alone,” she began in a whisper.

“I won't be alone,” Yancy said.

“They'll be back after dinner?”

“I need to talk to you then, anyway. Privately.”

“I'll never ditch Adam.”

“I meant privately
with
Adam.”

“Oh. Okay.”

Sam left and took a seat beside Darlene, smiling in return at the pleased grin the girl offered her.

“Did you have fun today?” Sam asked her.

Darlene nodded strenuously. “I had a wonderful time. I love to dive so much—I'm just afraid of some of the things in the water. I can't help it. I'd never be able to dive alone.”

Sam reached over to help herself to some of the sake sitting on the table in a little white porcelain ewer. “You're never supposed to go diving alone.”

“Your father did,” Avery Smith said suddenly, quietly.

Sam looked at him across the table. She couldn't read his expression. She wondered if the words had been said with sorrow or malice.

“Yes, my father did,” she said softly. She looked at Darlene. “My father was probably one of the best divers who ever lived. He knew the sea, respected all the creatures in it and was confident of his own abilities. He taught me never to go diving alone. But then he did it himself. And something happened to him. So no matter how good you are, or how brave, you should never go down alone.”

“Never!” came an emphatic exclamation from the end of the table.

Joey Emerson.

Née Shapiro.

His gaze was level. He smiled at Darlene, then offered Sam a rather awkward grin. “My dad died diving alone, too. It's very dangerous. So it's good that you have a healthy respect for the water.”

“Your father died while diving?” Adam said, sounding casual as he pulled up the chair next to baby Brian. A piece of teething cookie landed on Adam's lo mein.

Brad shuddered.

Adam picked up the piece of cookie, staring nonplussed at Brad while he spoke to Joey. “I'm sorry to hear that about your father. What happened to him?”

Joey Emerson stared across the table at Sam. “It was just like Justin Carlyle. No one knows what happened.”

“Maybe neither one of them is dead!” Darlene said excitedly. She looked at Sam. “Maybe we could find that ship—that
Beldona
your father was looking for. My folks would be so excited. They're just dying to find it.”

“Darlene!” her father snapped, a definite edge to his voice. His wife kicked him beneath the table—Sam saw the motion, then heard Lew Walker grunt. “Buried treasure and all. You know. It would be great to find the ship.”

“Right!” Darlene said happily. “We might find the ship, then find out that there's some kind of air line going into it. We'd find your dad, Sam, and maybe we'd find your father, too, Mr. Emerson.”

Joey Emerson née Shapiro grimaced. “That would be real nice, kid,” he said softly. “Except that they found my dad. He washed up on shore.”

“Oh,” Darlene said. “I'm sorry.”

Sukee wagged a finger at her. “So there's a lesson in that, young lady. No diving alone.”

“Right,” Darlene said.

Brad stared at Sam. “So why did your dad do it, Sam?”

She shook her head. “I don't know. But don't you go getting any ideas, huh?”

“He won't,” Judy Walker said sternly. “Actually, Sam, both my kids have gotten so fond of diving with you that they're not going to want to go with anyone else.”

“Even Jerry had a wonderful time diving with you, Sam,” Liam Hinnerman said, setting his arm around Jerry's shoulders.

Jerry offered Sam a weak smile. She looked lovely, as usual. Small, blond and delicate in a long-sleeved black knit. Pale, though. She didn't seem to have acquired any sun while they were out, and not a trace of windburn. She was wearing more makeup than usual, though, Sam decided.

And she looked miserably nervous.

“Jerry, did you like the dive?” Sam asked.

“It was fine, thank you,” Jerry said politely.

“She can't wait to dive the Steps again,” Liam said.

That was a lie. Jerry would like to do anything but dive the Steps again, Sam decided.

Yancy came around the buffet table with a washcloth, determined to clean Brian's face, though the baby wanted no part of it.

“That storm's brewing harder and faster,” Yancy warned. “If anyone wants to do any more diving, I think tomorrow has got to be it for a few days.”

“The Steps!” Liam said.

“Oh, come on, now, we've done those,” Sam protested.

“But it was wonderful!” Jim Santino exclaimed from the end of the table. He flashed a smile at Sam, but she realized he was studying Joey Emerson.

Shapiro.

“Even Jerry loves to dive the Steps,” Liam insisted. “Tell Sam, honey. Tell her that you're dying to dive the Steps again. Just dying to.”

Jerry looked at her. Still so pale. “I'm just dying to dive the Steps,” she said flatly.

“Please, Sam, please!” Darlene said.

“This is really getting repetitious,” Sam said.

“But if it's what everyone wants,” Adam said, “why not do it?”

“We'll keep an eye on the storm,” Sam said, determined to maintain some kind of control.

“Well, of course,” Sukee said. “It would be just as dangerous to dive in bad weather as it would be to dive alone, right, Sam?”

“Yeah, it would be.”

Jim Santino stood and stretched. “One more excursion to the Steps! Well, folks, I'm for bed. If the weather is going to get us later, I'm going to dive bright-eyed and bushy-tailed tomorrow. Good night, all.”