In Deep Waters. Melissa Mcclone
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Ben raised a brow. “What makes you so certain your research is correct?”
“The Isabella has been part of my life for as long as I can remember.”
Her father used to tell her stories about the ship and the pirates who’d sailed on her. She remembered the long hours he spent researching the lost shipwreck. The value of the cargo was unimaginable, but her father had located treasure ships before. This one had been different. For some reason, the Isabella held a greater allure for him. Kayla wished she understood why.
“I’ve studied and researched the Isabella off and on for the last eleven years.” Ever since the submersible accident had taken her father’s life and two others’. She ignored the empty feeling inside her and touched the silver talisman she always wore around her neck. It was the only key to her past, to the memory of the father she loved and the mother she couldn’t remember. Kayla fought an unexpected rush of emotion. “It’s taken a bit of digging and sorting through letters, journals, old charts and insurance records, but in the last two months I finally pulled all the information together to support my coordinates.”
“And?”
“The Isabella was my father’s obsession.” She wasn’t about to admit how important the pirate ship had become to her. No one knew how much she wanted to find the Isabella, and Kayla wanted to keep it that way. She hid the talisman under her shirt. “His research has proved invaluable to me and verifies my own.”
“And?”
“My instincts.” A satisfied feeling settled in the center of her chest. “I know I’m right.”
His features hardened. “You’re touting your so-called researching brilliance on a feeling?”
“An instinct,” she corrected him.
“Same difference. Why not consult a psychic?”
“I did that, too.” She smiled. “I figured it couldn’t hurt.”
His sharp gaze met hers, making Kayla want to step back. “How many expeditions have you been on?”
She stood her ground. She wasn’t about to let him intimidate her. “Zero.”
“Zero,” he echoed. “This is your first time at sea?”
“Yes.”
“That makes perfect sense.” A glint of something—amusement, perhaps—flickered in his eyes. “The museum is worried about the legitimacy and spending habits of the expedition so they send you—a highly respected maritime historian who’s never been on a search before and consults psychics and uses her instincts to locate shipwrecks.”
The truth sounded a bit unusual, but at least Ben was finally seeing things clearly. She nodded.
“Yes, it makes perfect sense if we were looking for the Izzy in the Bermuda Triangle and Bigfoot was the captain of this ship and the sky was…purple.”
Okay, so maybe he didn’t quite get it. She’d have to go into more detail and—
Ben turned and walked down the hallway.
“Ben?” He didn’t stop, so she did the next logical thing. She followed him.
The woman was a real…fruitcake. Ben had another word for her—several, actually—but he was watching his language, both verbally and mentally, for Madison’s sake.
Another second of listening to the wacky historian and Ben would have lost it. So he walked away. She called after him, but he didn’t consider glancing back.
Kayla might be a looker, but she was as nutty as they came. Might as well tie a bunch of helium-filled balloons on her and let her float around in the ozone because that’s where she belonged—in the clouds with all the other dreamers. It was as if his father and Ben’s ex-wife had been combined into one person named Kayla Waterton.
What had he done to deserve her?
Footsteps sounded behind him, but he kept walking.
“Where are you going?” Kayla asked. “I haven’t given you the new coordinates.”
As if he would ever use her coordinates. Ben continued down the passageway. Perhaps it was rude, but it would be ruder for him to speak. Neither she nor the museum would appreciate what he had to say. He wasn’t about to let a few choice words jeopardize the expedition. He recognized a threat when he heard one. No Kayla, no funding. If only it were that simple…
His cabin door was open. A minicyclone had cut a path through the room and left devastation in its wake. Drawers hung open. Closet doors were ajar. Clothes lay strewn across the floor. He didn’t need this right now. Ben stepped inside.
Madison sat on his bunk, her legs crossed and Baby Fifi on her lap. Fat tears streamed from her red-rimmed eyes and squeezed his heart. “I can’t find the little magpie, Daddy.”
“Come here, princess.” Ben scooped her up into his arms and sat on the bed. She was the greatest treasure in his life. He wanted to be a good father and give her what he’d never had growing up: stability and security. Sometimes he succeeded, other times he needed to work harder. Much harder.
Madison buried her face against his chest. “Do you think the little magpie flew away?”
“She’s right here.”
The crying stopped. Madison looked around. “Where?”
He smoothed her hair. “Right here in my arms.”
“I’m in your arms.”
Ben smiled. “You’re my little magpie.”
Two small lines formed above the bridge of her nose. “I’m not a magpie, I’m Madison.”
“Yes, you are. But you also repeat whatever I say. That’s what magpies do.” He lifted her into the air. “So that makes you my magpie Madison.”
“Magpie Madison.” She giggled, and a smile replaced the tears. Everything was right in her little world. And his, too. “Lift me up again, Daddy.”
Ben did as he was told. Again and again and again. Nothing fun could be done only once.
“Hello,” she said in midair. “This is my daddy’s room. Do you want to play?”
Reality came crashing back. He glanced at the doorway. Kayla stood watching them, an odd expression on her face.
“Hello.” A thoughtful smile formed on Kayla’s lips. “You walked away so quickly I didn’t know what was wrong. I forgot Madison had gone off by herself.”
He weighed the situation. Madison wasn’t the reason he’d walked away, but Kayla didn’t know that. He still had to report to the museum. No doubt she would be in touch with it, too. He had to be smart about this. “She knows she’s not supposed to go on deck by herself, but it’s not good to leave her alone for too long. Usually she’s back before I have a chance to worry.”
“You worry?” Kayla sounded so surprised. “You don’t look the type.”
“I worry about things that are important to me.”
“Want to see my room?” Madison asked her.
Kayla nodded. “I’d love to.”
“I need to talk to Miss Waterton first. Go on ahead and she’ll be right there.”
“Okay, Daddy.” With Baby Fifi in her arms, Madison stopped in the adjoining doorway to her cabin and turned. “I’m really happy you’re here, Miss Water—”
“Call me Kayla. And thank you. I’m happy I’m here, too.”
With a wide smile on her face, Madison danced into her cabin. Ben could see how much having another female aboard already meant to his daughter. If it were anyone but Kayla…
She