And she couldn’t have told me that. Not even one little phone call or e-mail. He decided to hold his tongue. “You’re not going to make me fill out those forms, are you?”
She shook her head. “Not all of them. I’ll help you, if you’re willing.”
He liked the fact that she was willing to bend the rules and decided reciprocation was in order. “I’ll help you.”
“You’re staying at the Butterfly Bed & Breakfast?”
“Uh-huh. It’s convenient, with the cavern right there on the property. Abbie is giving us a nice deal on rooms.”
She cocked her head to the side, probably at his use of Abigail Franklin’s first name.
“I met her grandson Mark in Afghanistan, and we’ve kept in touch occasionally.”
“The Navy pilot?”
He nodded.
“How’s he doing?”
“As well as a young man with one arm could be, I suppose. You should know, Jinx is here because Abbie contacted me.”
“Abbie is a smart cookie. Don’t underestimate her because of her age.”
“You say that as if I should be wary.”
“Let’s face it, cave pearls don’t have a huge value. They lack luster.”
“There’s some kind of chemical bath that’s been invented recently. It supposedly gives them luster. Market value could be over five hundred thousand dollars, maybe a million.”
She didn’t look convinced.
“What?”
“Abbie’s always been kind of secretive about her home, which is on the National Register of Historic Places, and the cavern. I wonder if there might be something else, and she’s just using your firm on the pretext of the pearls.”
In other words, we do the grunt work, and she skips off with the real bonanza. This was something Caleb would have to investigate further, but not with Ms. Indian Preservation on his tail. “All I can say is that Abbie has been very accommodating. Not just to me. The other members of my team will be staying at her B and B, too.”
“And they are . . . ?”
“Adam Famosa, a professor at Rutgers, and John LeDeux, a police officer from Louisiana. This is a relatively simple job. No need for the usual six-man team.”
“And you’re the project manager?”
“Yep. You’ll meet Veronica Jinkowsky, owner of Jinx, and her on-again, off-again husband Jake Jensen. Ronnie is a lawyer, and Jake is a professional poker player. They won’t be staying, though. They’re off to another treasure hunt in Mexico.”
She nodded.
Caleb wouldn’t be surprised if she had already researched every one of them, as well as the cavern to be explored and the targeted treasure.
“A college professor, a police officer, a poker player, a lawyer, an ex-Navy SEAL . . . What qualifies you guys to be treasure hunters?”
“Good question. Actually, each of our fortune-hunting expeditions is different and requires different skills. Could be anything from deep-sea treasure to buried gold to a lost heirloom. Once an elderly Southern belle hired us to dig up her backyard hoping to find her family’s silver from the Civil War days. Some of us are climbers. Others have diving experience. Those of us on this project put in an additional fifty hours to get further certified in cave diving.”
“Is cave diving so different?”
“Actually, yes. There are almost forty different swimming techniques just for negotiating underground water passes. We don’t take on jobs we can’t handle, or if we do agree to a project requiring special expertise, we hire someone to join the team. Mostly, though, we all share a love of adventure.”
“Did you find the lady’s silver?”
“Yeah. That and a couple of dead Yankee soldiers.”
She appeared to be satisfied with his explanation.
“What is it you hope to find on this project, Claire?”
“Well, artifacts most likely. Arrowheads, tools, that kind of thing. Caves have long been used as dwelling places, burial sites, storage houses, places of worship. Add to that the fact that Pennsylvania has been homeland to the Lenape tribe for more than ten thousand years.”
“Ten thousand years!”
She shrugged. “As you probably know, a cavern of any size is at least a million years old. We’re talking ancient and near history here. Near history being the past few hundred years of which we have more concrete evidence. For example, the Lenape were among the first Indians to come in contact with Europeans in the 1600s.”
“Uh-hum,” he said. Good God! She’s giving me a lecture, like I’m one of her students.
“It would be really great if there were pictographs as well. Cave paintings,” she blathered on, pleased no doubt that she had a captive audience. “Oh, and aside from the usual artifacts, I would love to discover some new fetishes. I only have a few now.”
He couldn’t help himself. He had to grin. “Yeah? I’ve got a few myself. I’ll tell you mine if you’ll tell me yours.”
She stared at him for a long moment, then laughed. “Oh, you! I meant Indian fetishes. Like small carvings in wood or stone. A turtle, for example. Things that hold some mystical spirit important to . . .” She let her words trail off as she realized he’d known what kind of fetish she’d meant all along.
“Yeah, well, back to what you hope to find. I’ve studied all the maps and history. I suspect the only things, other than pearls, that we’re going to find there are bats and bugs and”—he shivered reflexively—“snakes. I do hate snakes.”
Claire tilted her head to the side. “Didn’t Abbie tell you about Sparky?” Then she smiled. Smirked, actually.
The fine hairs stood out on his body. “Okay. Who’s Sparky?”
“A snake.”
“A snake with a name?” Uh-oh, this does not sound good.
He must have turned a bit green because she grinned.
Oh, great! A sadist, on top of everything else.
“A big ol’ snake.”
“Define big.”
“Twelve feet long and as wide around as your tattoo.” She pointed to his left biceps where the thin chain tattoo peeked out from under the sleeve of his T-shirt. “Sparky’s been living in Spruce Creek Cavern for at least ten years. Not that there aren’t other snakes, but Sparky is the Big Daddy. Every so often, he sticks his head out, but then slithers back in before anyone can catch him.”
Yeah, but has anyone ever shot him? With an AK-47? “Are you pulling my leg?”
“I wouldn’t think of touching your leg.”
Okay, I recognize an insult when I hear one. He thought about taking her hand and placing it on his bare thigh, just to annoy her, but sanity persuaded him to restrain himself. “I. Hate. Snakes.”
“Afraid of them?”
“Hell, no. Just don’t like ’em.” Probably stemmed from all those years as a kid when he’d helped hand-plow the fields and uncovered lots of the slimy buggers—usually black or garden variety, but even the occasional rattler. And he’d had to deal with plenty in SEAL survival training, too.
“Well, you had to know coming here that an underground cavern would have snakes.”
“Sure, I knew that. I just didn’t expect any anacondas.”
She laughed, and her whole face lit up, even her eyes, which were a pale, pale green.
Nice. But he could see how some people might consider her eyes sort of woo-woo, fitting into the crazy category.
“Don’t worry, he’s not poisonous . . . though he has been known to bite.”
“You’re really enjoying yourself at my expense, aren’t you?”
“Yep!” But then she switched subjects and floored him. Women had a talent for doing that to a guy, one minute talking about the latest hot chick movie and the next asking him something personal, something he absolutely does not want to discuss, like the size of his, oh, let’s say, rifle, or why hasn’t he ever married, or what’s that huge chip on his shoulder with the word family chiseled on it.
What Claire zinged him with was: “Peachey . .
. that’s an Amish name, isn’t it? An Amish Navy SEAL? That’s an oxymoron, isn’t it?”
I’m a moron, all right. Left myself wide open. Why don’t I just paint a target on my chest that says, “Shoot Me.”
Enjoy sexy, heart-stoppingly funny romances? Then you’ll enjoy
Sandra Hill
TALL, DARK, AND CAJUN
0-446-61294-4
THE CAJUN COWBOY
0-446-61295-2
THE RED-HOT CAJUN
0-446-61296-0
“The next time I’m in need of some belly laughs, I’ll be searching out Ms. Hill’s books.”
—The Romance Reader
AVAILABLE WHEREVER BOOKS ARE SOLD.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
About the Author
Chapter 1
Sandra Hill, Pink Jinx
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