The Reef

  Color leeched from her cheeks. “You can’t blame him.”

  “Hell I can’t.” He tucked his hands into his pockets. “Me and Buck, we ran a different kind of operation. But you had the dough. Now we’ve got nothing. All I have left after months of work is a gimpy uncle.”

  “That’s a horrible thing to say.”

  “Plain fact,” he corrected and ignored the coating of disgust in his throat. “I’ll get him set up somewhere. I owe him that. But you and me, Red, that’s a different can of worms. Passing the time for a few weeks, a little entertainment on the side to break the monotony is one thing. And it’s been fun. But you hanging around my neck now that the deal’s in the toilet—that cramps my style.”

  She felt as if someone had hollowed her out in one vicious scoop. He was looking at her with a faint grin on his mouth, cool amusement in his eyes. “You’re in love with me,” she insisted.

  “You’re dreaming again. Hey, you want to weave a little romantic fantasy with me in the starring role, fine. But don’t expect to sail off into the sunset.”

  It had to be worse, he decided. He had to be worse. Words alone wouldn’t shake her loose, wouldn’t save her from him. Even as his own actions revolted him, he cupped his hands over her hips, drew her intimately close.

  “I didn’t mind playing the game, honey. Hell, I enjoyed every minute of it. As lousy as things turned out, why don’t we try to cheer each other up. End things with a real bang.”

  He clamped his mouth over hers, hard. He wanted nothing soft or sweet in the kiss. It was greedy, demanding and just a little mean. Even as she started to struggle, he slipped a hand under her blouse, closed it over her breast.

  “Don’t.” This was wrong, she thought frantically. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. It couldn’t be like this. “You’re hurting me.”

  “Come on, baby.” Christ, her skin was like satin. He wanted to stroke it, savor it, seduce it. Instead he bruised it, knowing whatever marks he left there would fade much sooner than the ones he was leaving on himself. “You know we both want it.”

  “No.” Sobbing, she shoved and clawed herself free. In defense, she hugged her arms tight. “Don’t touch me.”

  “Just a tease after all.” He forced himself to meet her haunted eyes. “All talk, no action, Tate?”

  She could barely see him for the tears spilling out of her eyes. “You don’t care about me at all.”

  “Sure I do.” He heaved a sigh. “What’s it going to take to get you in the sack? You want poetry? I can dig some up. Too shy to do it on the beach? Fine. I’ve got a room your old man’s paying for.”

  “None of us meant anything to you.”

  “Hey. I pulled my weight.”

  “I loved you. We all cared.”

  Already past tense, he thought. It wasn’t so hard to kill love. “Big fucking deal. Partnership’s dissolved. You and your parents go back to your nice, tidy lives. I go on with mine. Now, do you want to go bounce on the mattress awhile, or do I go find somebody else?”

  Part of her mind wondered that she could still stand, still speak, when he had torn out her heart. “I never want to see you again. I want you to stay away from me and my parents. I don’t want them to have to know what a bastard you are.”

  “No problem. Run on home, kid. I got places to go.”

  She told herself she wouldn’t, that she would walk, head high. But after a few steps, she did just that. She fled, with her tattered heart bleeding.

  When she was gone, Matthew sat down in the sand, lay his aching head on his knees. He figured he’d just completed the first heroic act of his life, by saving hers.

  And he decided as the ache pulsed through him, that he wasn’t cut out to be a hero.

  CHAPTER 10

  “I CAN’T IMAGINE where Matthew could be.“ Marla spoke in undertones, fretting as she paced the hospital corridor. ”It’s not like him to miss his visit to Buck. And especially today, when they’re transferring Buck to a regular room."

  Tate shrugged. Even that hurt, she discovered. She’d spent a sleepless night mourning a broken heart, giving it every tear inside her. Still, in the end, she had salvaged her pride and now braced against it.

  “He probably found a more interesting way to spend his day.”

  “Well, it’s not like him.” Marla glanced over when Ray stepped out of Buck’s room.

  “He’s settling in.” The bolstering smile did little to erase the concern in Ray’s eyes. “He’s a little tired, doesn’t really feel up to visitors. Matthew come in yet?”

  “No.” Marla looked down the hall as if she could will the elevator doors to open up, and Matthew to stroll out. “Ray, did you tell him about Silas VanDyke, the treasure?”

  “I didn’t have the heart.” Wearily Ray sat down. The last ten minutes with Buck had sapped him. “I think it’s just beginning to sink in about his leg. He’s angry and bitter. Nothing I said seemed to help. How could I tell him everything we’d worked for is gone?”

  “It can wait.” Knowing there was little else they could do, Marla sat down beside him. “Don’t start blaming yourself, Ray.”

  “I keep going over that moment in my mind,” he murmured. “One instant we were flying. We were kings. Midases turning everything we touched into gold. Then there was horror and fear. Could I have done something, Marla, moved faster? I don’t know. It all happened in a heartbeat. Angelique’s Curse.” Ray lifted his hands, let them fall. “That’s what Buck keeps saying.”

  “It was an accident,” Marla insisted, though a shiver raced through her. “It has nothing to do with curses or legends. You know that, Ray.”

  “I know Buck’s lost his leg, and the dream that was just at our fingertips turned into a nightmare. There’s nothing we can do about it. That’s the worst of it. There’s nothing we can do.”

  “You need rest.” Briskly, Marla rose, took his hands. “We all do. We’re going back to the hotel and putting all of this aside for a few hours. In the morning, we’ll do whatever needs to be done.”

  “Maybe you’re right.”

  “You two go ahead.” Tate tucked her hands in her pockets. The idea of sitting in her room for the rest of the afternoon was far from appealing. “I think I’ll go for a walk, maybe sit on the beach awhile.”

  “That’s a good idea.” Marla slipped an arm around Tate’s shoulders as they walked to the elevators. “Get yourself some sun. We’ll all feel better for a little break.”

  “Sure.” Tate managed a smile as they stepped into the elevator. But she knew nothing was going to make her feel better for a long, long time.

  As the Beaumonts went their separate ways, Matthew sat down in Dr. Farrge’s office. Already that day he’d put into play several of the decisions he’d made during the night. Decisions, he felt, that were necessary for everyone.

  “I need you to contact that doctor you told me about, the one in Chicago,” Matthew began. “I have to know if he’ll take care of Buck.”

  “I can do that for you, Mr. Lassiter.”

  “I’d appreciate it. And I need an accounting of what I owe here plus what it’s going to cost to transfer him.”

  “Your uncle is without medical insurance?”

  “That’s right.” Matthew braced his shoulders against the fresh weight. It was always humiliating to owe more than you could pay. He doubted a professional treasure hunter was a prime candidate for a loan. “I’ll give you what I’ve got. I’ll have more tomorrow.” From the sale of the Sea Devil and most of the equipment. “I’ll need some sort of payment schedule for the rest. I’ve made some calls myself. I’ve got a line on a couple of jobs. I’m good for it.”

  Farrge sat back, rubbed a finger along the side of his nose. “I’m sure we can make arrangements. In your country there are programs—”

  “Buck’s not going on welfare,” Matthew interrupted, a bite of fury in his voice. “Not as long as I can work. Just figure up the bottom line. I’ll deal with it.”

 
“As you wish. Mr. Lassiter, it’s fortunate that your uncle is a strong man. I have no doubt that he will recover physically. He could, in fact, dive again. If he chooses. But his emotional and mental recovery will be slower even than the physical. He’ll need your support. You will need help to—”

  “I’ll deal with it,” Matthew repeated and rose. At the moment, he didn’t think he could stand hearing about psychiatrists and social workers. “The way I figure it, you saved his life. I owe you for that. Now I’ve got to take it from here.”

  “It’s a great deal to shoulder alone, Mr. Lassiter.”

  “That’s the breaks, isn’t it?” Matthew said with cool dispassion. “For better or worse, mostly worse, I’m all he’s got.”

  That was his personal bottom line, Matthew thought as he headed down to Buck’s floor. He was the only family Buck had left. And Lassiters, whatever their failings, paid their debts.

  Oh, maybe they skipped out on a bar bill now and again when times were lean. And he’d been known to fleece a tourist or two by inflating the price and history of a clay pipe or broken jug. If some idiot paid through the nose for some chipped wine jar just because a stranger claimed it was from Jean Lafitte’s personal stash, they deserved what they got.

  But there were matters of honor that couldn’t be shaken. Whatever it took, Buck was his responsibility.

  The treasure was gone, he thought, giving himself a moment in the corridor before going in to Buck. The Sea Devil was history. All he had left were clothes, his wet suit, flippers, mask, and his tanks.

  He’d hustled the sales. Hustling was something that came easily, he thought with a thin smile. The money in his pocket would get them to Chicago.

  After that . . . Well, after that, they’d see.

  He pushed open Buck’s door, relieved to find his uncle alone.

  “Wondered if you’d show.” Buck scowled and fought back the bitter tears that stung his eyes. “Least you could do is be around when they go poking and prodding and wheeling me all over hell and back in this place.”

  “Nice room.” Matthew glanced toward the curtain that separated Buck from the patient in the next bed.

  “It’s crap. I’m not staying here.”

  “Not for long. We’re taking a trip to Chicago.”

  “What the hell is there in Chicago for me?”

  “A doctor who’s going to fix you up with a new leg.”

  “New leg my ass.” The leg was gone, and only the nagging pain was left to remind him he’d once stood like a man. “Piece of plastic with hinges.”

  “We could always strap a peg on you instead.” Matthew pulled a folding chair to the bedside and sat. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d really slept. If he could get through the next couple of hours, he promised himself he’d zero out for another eight. “I thought the Beaumonts might be around.”

  “Ray was in.” Buck frowned, tugged on his sheet. “Sent him away. Don’t need his damn long face in here. Where’s that damn nurse?” Buck fumbled for his call button. “Always around when you don’t want ’em. Sticking needles in you. I want my pills,” he barked the minute the nurse stepped in. “I’m in pain here.”

  “After your meal, Mr. Lassiter,” she said patiently. “Your dinner will be here in a few moments.”

  “I don’t want any of that goddamn slop.”

  The more she tried to placate him, the louder he shouted, until she stalked off with blood in her eye.

  “Nice way to make friends, Buck,” Matthew commented. “You know, if I were you, I’d be a little more careful with a woman who could come back at me with a six-inch needle.”

  “You’re not me, are you? You got two legs.”

  “Yeah.” Guilt ate a ragged hole in his gut. “I got two legs.”

  “Lot of good the treasure’s gonna do me now,” Buck muttered. “Finally got all the money a man could ever want, and it can’t make me whole again. What am I gonna do? Buy some big fucking boat and spin around it in a wheelchair? Angelique’s Curse is what it is. Goddamn witch gives with one hand and takes the best away with the other.”

  “We didn’t find the amulet.”

  “It’s down there. It’s down there all right.” Buck’s eyes began to glimmer with bitterness and hate. “It didn’t even have the goodness to kill me. Better if it had. Nothing but a cripple. A rich cripple.”

  “You can be a cripple if you want,” Matthew said wearily. “That part’s up to you. But you’re not going to be rich. VanDyke’s taken care of that.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” The color fury had pumped into Buck’s cheeks drained away like water. “What about VanDyke?”

  Do it now, Matthew ordered himself. All at once. “He jumped our claim. And he’s taken it all.”

  “It’s our wreck. Me and Ray, we even registered it.”

  “Funny thing about that. The only paperwork anybody can find is VanDyke’s. All he had to do was bribe a couple of clerks.”

  To lose it all now was unthinkable. Without his share of the treasure he’d not only be a cripple, he’d be a helpless one. “You gotta stop him.”

  “How?” Matthew shot up, pressed his hands against Buck’s shoulders to keep him in bed. “He’s got a full crew, armed. They’re working around the clock. I’ll guarantee he’s already transported what he’s brought up, and what he took off the Sea Devil and the Adventure.”

  “You’re just gonna let him get away with it?” Fueled by desperation, Buck gripped Matthew by the shirtfront. “You’re just gonna turn around and walk away from what’s ours? It cost me my leg.”

  “I know what it cost you. And yeah, I’m walking away. I’m not going to die for a wreck.”

  “Never thought you’d turn coward.” Buck released him, turned his head away. “If I wasn’t laid up here . . .”

  If you weren’t laid up here, Matthew thought, I wouldn’t have to walk away. “It looks like you’d better work at getting up and out of here so you can handle it your way. Meantime, I’m in charge and we’re going to Chicago.”

  “How the hell are we going to get there? We’ve got nothing.” Unconsciously, he reached down to where his leg should have been. “Less than nothing.”

  “The Sea Devil, the equipment and some odds and ends brought in a few thousand.”

  Glassily pale, Buck turned back. “You sold the boat? What right did you have to sell the boat? The Sea Devil belonged to me, boy.”

  “It was half mine,” Matthew said with a shrug. “When I sold my share, yours went with it. I’m doing what I have to do.”

  “Running away,” Buck said and turned his head again. “Selling out.”

  “That’s right. Now I’m going to go book us a flight to Chicago.”

  “I ain’t going to Chicago.”

  “You’re going to go where I tell you. That’s the way it is.”

  “Well, I’m telling you to go to hell.”

  “As long as we go by way of Chicago,” Matthew said and walked out.

  The bottom line, Matthew learned, was a great deal steeper than he had imagined. Swallowing his pride left his throat raw. He soothed it with a cold beer while he waited for Ray in the hotel lounge.

  His life, he decided, was about as bad as it could get. Funny, a few months before, he’d had basically nothing. A boat that had seen better days, a little cash in a tin box, no urgent plans, no urgent problems. Looking back, he supposed he’d been happy enough.

  Then, suddenly, he’d had so much. A woman who loved him, the prospect of fame and fortune. Success, the kind he’d never really believed in, had been briefly his. Revenge, which he’d dreamed of for nine years, had been almost within his grasp.

  Now he’d lost it all, the woman, the prospects, even the bits of nothing he’d once considered more than enough. It was so much harder to lose once you’d won.

  “Matthew.”

  He looked up at the clap on his shoulder. Ray slid onto the stool beside him. “Thanks for coming down.”

&nbs
p; “Glad to. I’ll have a beer,” he told the bartender. “Another for you, Matthew?”

  “Yeah, why not?” It was only the beginning of what Matthew planned for one long night of stinking drunkenness.

  “We’ve been missing each other the last few days,” Ray began, then tapped his bottle against Matthew’s fresh one. “Kept figuring we’d run into you at the hospital. Though we haven’t been there as much as we’d like. Buck’s not feeling up for company much.”

  “No.” Matthew tipped the bottle back, let the chilled beer run down his throat. “He won’t even talk to me.”