The Reef

hadn’t really believed they would find it. What she hadn’t realized was that, against all logic, all scientific curiosity, she had hoped they wouldn’t find it.
    Now it was real, in her hands. She had a foolish urge to open her window and heave it back into the sea.
    She didn’t have to be an expert on gems to know that the center ruby alone was priceless. It was certainly easy enough to judge the gram weight of the gold and figure that worth in current market value. Add the diamonds, the antiquity, the legend, and what did she have? Four million dollars in her hands? Five?
    Enough, certainly, to satisfy any greed, any lust, any vengeance.
    Such a stunning piece of work, she mused. Surprisingly simple despite the flash and fire. A woman would wear it and draw eyes and admiration. Displayed, it would be the centerpiece of any museum. Around it she could build the most impressive, the most spectacular collection of marine salvage in the world.
    Her professional dreams would be realized beyond any of her wildest imaginings. Her reputation would soar. Any and all funding she desired for an expedition would flow to her like river to sea.
    All of this and more would come. She had only to hide the amulet, to go to Nevis and make a single phone call. Within hours she and her prize could be on their way to New York or Washington to stun the world of ocean exploration.
    She jerked back, letting the necklace spill onto the bed. Shocked, she stared at it.
    What had she been thinking? How could she have even considered such actions? When had fame and fortune become more important to her than loyalty, than honesty? Than even love.
    With a shiver, she pressed her hands to her face. Maybe the damn thing was cursed if having it for so short a time skewed her integrity.
    She turned her back on it, walked to the window and, opening it, took deep gulps of sea air.
    The truth was, she would give up the amulet, the museum, everything, if it would turn Matthew away from this course of self-destruction. She would hand it over to VanDyke personally if the betrayal would save the man she loved.
    Perhaps it would. Turning, she studied the amulet again, spread like stars over the serviceable spread of her bunk. Driven by instinct, she scooped it up, pushed it under the neatly folded clothes in her middle drawer.
    She needed to act quickly. Through the doorway leading to the bridge, she spied out at the Mermaid. She could see her mother hammering conglomerate to the rhythm of some top-forty station on the portable radio. Buck was on his way to St. Kitts, she knew, and her father and LaRue were at the wreck.
    That left only Matthew, and of him she saw no sign. There was no better time, she decided, and no better way.
    Heart pounding, she slipped up the stairs to the bridge. She hoped the operator on Nevis could help her contact Trident Industries. Failing that, she would work to track down Hayden. Surely between them, they could find a way to get through to VanDyke.
    She made the ship-to-shore call, wishing she’d thought quickly enough to hitch a ride with Buck to the island. It would certainly have simplified the contact.
    After twenty frustrating minutes, and countless transfers, she was able to reach Trident, Miami. For all the good it did, Tate thought when she disconnected. No one there would even acknowledge that Silas VanDyke was associated with them. All she could do was insist the silky voiced receptionist take her message and see that it was passed to the proper source.
    Remembering the man she had faced years before, she had no doubt it would be. But there was little time.
    That left Hayden, she decided, and hoped that he was off the Nomad and back in North Carolina. Again, she made the ship-to-shore, waited while the call was transferred north and over the Atlantic.
    For all her trouble, her call was taken by Hayden’s answering service.
    “I need to get a message to Dr. Deel. It’s urgent.”
    “Dr. Deel is in the Pacific.”
    “I’m aware of that. This is Tate Beaumont, his associate. It’s imperative that I reach him as soon as possible.”
    “Dr. Deel checks in for his messages periodically. I’ll be glad to relay your message to him when he contacts me.”
    “Tell him Tate Beaumont needs to speak with him urgently. Urgently,” she repeated. “I’m at sea in the West Indies aboard the New Adventure. HTR-56390. He can contact the operator on Nevis for the transfer. Have you got that?”
    Precisely, the service