The Reef

Matthew was occupied, she tucked it into the sleeve of her wet suit. Smug now, she began to search for more signs.
    When a check of her gauge and her watch indicated their time was up, she noted her position, and turned toward her partner. He nodded, jerked a thumb. They began to swim east, ascending slowly.
    His goody bag was laden with conglomerate, which he pointed out to her before gesturing to her own empty one. She gave him the equivalent of a shrug and broke the surface just ahead of him.
    “Bad luck, Red.”
    She suffered his superior smile as they headed in. “Maybe.” Gripping the ladder of the Adventure, she tossed her flippers up to where her father waited. “Maybe not.”
    “How’d it go?” Once his daughter was on deck, Ray relieved her of her weight belt and tanks. Noting her empty bag, he struggled to mask disappointment. “Nothing worth bringing up, huh?”
    “I wouldn’t say that,” Matthew commented. He handed Buck his full bag before unzipping his suit. Water dripped from his hair, pooled at his feet. “Might be something worthwhile once we chip away at it.”
    “The boy’s got a sixth sense about these things.” Buck set the bag on a bench. His fingers were already itching to start hammering at the conglomerate.
    “I’ll work on it,” Marla offered. She was wearing her flowered sun hat and a sundress of canary yellow that set off her flame-colored hair. “I just want to get some videos first. Tate, you and Matthew have a nice cold drink and something to eat. I know these two want to go down and try their luck.”
    “Sure.” Tate pushed her wet hair back from her face. “Oh, and speaking of luck.” She pulled the wrists of her wet suit. A half dozen coins fell jingling to the deck. “I had a little myself.”
    “Sonofabitch.” Matthew crouched down. He knew by the weight and the shape what she’d found. While the others erupted with excitement, he rubbed a coin between his fingers and looked up coolly into Tate’s self-satisfied smile.
    He didn’t begrudge her the find. But he sure as hell hated that she’d managed to make him look like a fool.
    “Where’d you find them?”
    “A couple of yards north of where you were harvesting your rocks.” She decided the way annoyance narrowed his eyes almost made up for the sword. “You were so busy I didn’t want to interrupt you.”
    “Yeah. I bet.”
    “Spanish.” Ray stared down at the coin nestled in his palm. “Seventeen thirty-three. This could be it. The date’s right.”
    “Could be from the other ships,” Matthew responded. “Time, current, storms—they spread things out.”
    “They could just as easily be from the Isabella or Santa Marguerite.” There was a fever in Buck’s eyes. “Ray and me, we’ll concentrate on the area where you found these.” He rose from his crouched position, held out a coin to Tate. “These’ll go in the kitty. But I figure you ought to keep one, for yourself. That sit right with you, Matthew?”
    “Sure.” He shrugged his shoulders before turning to the ice chest. “No big deal.”
    “It is to me,” Tate murmured as she accepted the coin from Buck. “It’s the first time I’ve ever found coins. Pieces of eight.” She laughed and leaned forward to give Buck an impulsive kiss. “What a feeling.”
    His ruddy cheeks darkened. Women had always remained a mystery to him and mostly at a distance. “You hold on to it—that feeling. Sometimes it’s a long stretch before you have it again.” He slapped Ray on the back. “Let’s suit up, partner.”
    Within thirty minutes, the second team was under way. Marla had spread out a drop cloth and was busily chipping away at the conglomerate. Tate postponed lunch to clean the silver coins.
    Nearby, Matthew sat on the deck and polished off his second BLT. “I tell you, Marla, I might just shanghai you. You sure have a way of putting food together.”
    “Anybody can make a sandwich.” Her hammer rang in counterpoint to her molasses-drenched voice. “You’ll have to have dinner with us, Matthew. Then you’ll see what cooking’s all about.”
    He was sure he heard Tate’s teeth gnash. “Love to. I can run over to Saint Kitts for you if you need any supplies.”
    “That’s very sweet.” She’d changed into work shorts and an oversized shirt, and was sweating. Somehow she still managed to look like a Southern belle planning a tea party. “I could use a little fresh milk to make biscuits.”
    “Biscuits? Marla,