The Reef

she held. The object that had drawn them together, twice, was right there in her hands.
    And what would it do to him? she wondered. What would it cost him? Before she could question her own motives, she jammed the necklace in her goody bag, drew the drawstring tight.
    Struggling for calm, she looked toward the barracuda. But the fish was gone, as if it had never been. There was only murk.
     
    Five hundred miles away, VanDyke rolled off his surprised lover and got out of bed. Ignoring her complaints, he swung into a silk robe and hurried from the master suite.His mouth was dry, his heart throbbing like a wound. Stalking past a white-suited steward, he rushed up the companionway to the bridge.
    “I want more speed.”
    “Sir.” The captain looked up from his charts. “There’s weather due east. I was about to alter our course to swing below it.”
    “Hold your course, goddamn you.” In one of his rare leaps of public temper, VanDyke swept a hand over the table and sent charts scattering. “Hold your course and give me more speed. You’ll have this ship to Nevis by morning or I’ll see you captain nothing larger than a two-man paddleboat.”
    He didn’t wait for an answer, didn’t need to. VanDyke’s commands were always followed, his wishes always granted. But the flush of humiliation that had come across the captain’s face didn’t calm or appease VanDyke as it should have.
    His hands were trembling, the bitter cloud of rage threatening to close over him. The signs of weakness infuriated him, frightened him. To prove his strength, he marched into the lounge, cursed at the bartender always on duty and grabbed a bottle of Chevis himself.
    The amulet. He would have sworn he’d seen it flashing, felt its weight around his own neck as he’d ranged himself over the woman in his bed. And the woman in his bed had not been the increasingly tedious companion of the last two months, but Angelique herself.
    Snarling at the bartender to leave, VanDyke poured the liquor, drank it down, poured again. His hands continued to tremble, to curl themselves of their own accord into fists looking for something to pummel.
    It had been too real to have been a simple fantasy. It was, he was sure, a premonition.
    Angelique was taunting him again, snickering at him from centuries past. But he would not be tricked, or outwitted, this time. His course was set. He accepted now that it had been set from the moment he’d been born. Destiny beckoned so that he could nearly taste it along with liquor. And it was sweet and strong. He would soonhave the amulet, its power. With it he would have his legacy, and his revenge.
     
    “Tate seems preoccupied,” LaRue commented, tugging up the zipper of his wet suit.
    “We put in a long shift.” Matthew hauled tanks over to the tender. Buck would be taking them on island to be refilled. “I guess she’s tired.”
    “And you, mon ami? ”
    “I’m fine. You and Ray want to work on that southeast trench.”
    “As you say.” Taking his time, LaRue hooked on his tanks. “I noticed she did not linger on deck after you surfaced, as is her habit. She went inside quickly.”
    “So what? You writing a book?”
    “I am a student of human nature, young Matthew. It is my opinion that the lovely mademoiselle has something to hide, something that worries her mind.”
    “Worry about your own mind,” Matthew suggested.
    “Ah, but the study of others is so much more interesting.” He smiled at Matthew as he sat to put on his flippers. “What one does, or doesn’t do. What that one thinks or plans. You understand?”
    “I understand you’re wasting your air.” He nodded toward the New Adventure. “Ray’s waiting on you.”
    “My diving partner. This is a relationship that must have full trust, eh? And you know, young Matthew . . .” LaRue pulled on his mask. “You can rely on me.”
    “Right.”
    LaRue saluted, then went into the water. Something told him he would need to make another phone call very soon.
     
    She didn’t know what to do. Tate sat on the edge of her bunk staring at the amulet in her hands. It was wrong for her to keep the discovery to herself. She knew it, and yet . . .
    If Matthew knew she had it, nothing would stop him from taking it. He’d alert VanDyke that he had it in his possession. He’d demand a showdown.
    She knew without doubt that only one of them would walk away from it.
    All this time. Slowly, she ran her fingers over the carved names. She