The Reef

last years drooling on her silk blouses in a locked room.
    His body shivered once with the final effort to battle back rage. He took a long, steadying breath, straightened his tie, massaged his tensed hands.
    It was possible, he thought with utter calm now, that he had been a bit impatient with James Lassiter. It wasn’t a mistake he would make with the others. Years of search had only strengthened him, added wisdom and knowledge. Made him more aware of the value of the prize, the power of its possession.
    It waited for him just as he waited for it, he reminded himself, and saw that his hands were again perfectly steady. Neither he nor Angelique’s Curse would tolerate any interlopers. But, interlopers could be used before they were discarded.
    Time would tell, VanDyke thought and closed his eyes. There was no sea, no ocean, no pond where the Lassiters could sail without him being aware.
    One day, they would lead him to Angelique’s Curse and the one fortune that continued to allude him.

C HAPTER 9
    O UT OF BREATH and pale with fury, Tate rushed into the hospital. She spotted her parents and Matthew in a huddle at the end of the corridor and barely prevented herself from calling out. She headed for them at a jog that had her mother turning and staring.
    “Tate, for goodness sake, you look as though you’ve been swimming in your clothes.”
    “I have. We have trouble. There was a boat. They’re excavating. There was nothing I could do to stop them.”
    “Slow down,” Ray ordered and put both hands on her shoulders. “Where have you been?”
    “I went out to the site. There’s a boat there, a hell of a boat, luxury yacht, fully loaded. First-class excavation equipment. They’re working the Marguerite. Saw the airlift cloud.” She paused half a second to catch her breath. “We have to get out there. They’ve been aboard the Adventure and the Sea Devil. My catalogues are gone, and a lot of the artifacts are missing. I know he took them. He’ll deny it, but I know.”
    “Who?”
    Tate shifted her gaze from her father and looked at Matthew. “VanDyke. It’s Silas VanDyke.”
    Before she could speak again, Matthew gripped her arm, whirled her to face him. “How do you know?”
    “His steward called him by name.” The fear she’d experienced onboard the Triumphant was nothing compared to seeing murder leap into the eyes of the man she loved. “He knew you. He knew what happened to Buck. He said—Matthew.” Alarm trembled in her voice as he strode down the hall. “Wait.” She managed to catch him, brace herself in front of him. “What are you going to do?”
    “What I should have done a long time ago.” His eyes were cold and flat and frightening. “I’m going to kill him.”
    “Get a hold of yourself.” Though Ray’s voice was calm, he had Matthew’s arm in a surprisingly strong grip. Tate recognized the tone and breathed a small sigh of relief. Little or nothing got past her father in this mood. Not even murderous rage. “We have to be careful, and we have to be sensible,” he continued. “There’s a lot at stake.”
    “That bastard isn’t going to walk away this time.”
    “We’ll go out. Marla, you and Tate wait here. Matthew and I will straighten this out.”
    “I’m not waiting here.”
    “Neither of us is waiting here.” Marla ranged herself with her daughter. “This is a team operation, Ray. If one goes, we all go.”
    “I don’t have time for family debates.” Matthew shook himself free. “I’m going now. You can hang here and see if you can control your women.”
    “You ignorant—”
    “Tate.” Marla took a deep breath to control her own temper. “Let’s consider the circumstances.” She aimed a look at Matthew that could have melted steel. When she spoke again, the southern honey in her voice was frozen over ice. “You’re right about one thing, Matthew, we’re wasting time.” With this, she sailed to the elevator, jabbed the down button.
    “Idiot,” was all Tate said.
     
    When they were aboard the Adventure, Tate joined her mother at the rail. Ray and Matthew were at the bridge,piloting the boat and, she imagined, discussing strategy. The insult of it burned in her blood.
    More frightened than she wanted to admit, Marla turned to her daughter. “What was your impression of this man? This VanDyke?”
    “He’s slick.” It was the first word to come to Tate’s mind. “With a nasty layer under the shine. Smart, too. He knew there was nothing