The Reef

refuse. And only one to agree. Buck was family. “I can’t baby-sit you, or worry about you sneaking a bottle. You have to work, earn your space on the boat.”
    “I know what I gotta do.”
    “LaRue”—Matthew turned to the man quietly eating his takeout dinner—“you’ve got a stake in this. Where do you stand?”
    Politely, LaRue swallowed, dabbed his mouth with a paper napkin. “Me, I figure two more hands don’t get in the way, long as they’re steady.” He shrugged his shoulder. “If they shake, you can take him for ballast.”
    Humiliated, Buck set his jaw. “I’ll pull my weight. James wanted the Isabella. I’ll help you get her for him.”
    “All right.” Matthew nodded. “Pack your gear. We leave at first light.”

C HAPTER 14
    T HE LITTLE PLANE bounced on the runway and woke Tate out of a half doze. For the past thirty-eight hours she had been almost constantly on the move, juggling herself from boats to planes to cabs. She’d crossed a hefty slice of the Pacific, an entire continent, and all the varying time zones.
    Her eyes told her it was day, but her body didn’t have a clue.
    At the moment, she felt as though she were made out of thin, fragile glass that would easily shatter at a loud noise or a careless bump.
    But she was home. Or as close to home as the tiny airport in Frisco on Hatteras Island. All that was left was one quick car ride, and then, she vowed, she would avoid anything that moved for at least twenty-four hours.
    Shifting carefully, she reached down for her carry-on. The tuna can with propellers she’d caught in Norfolk was empty but for her and the pilot. Once he’d taxied to a halt, he turned and gave her a thumbs-up sign, which she returned with a vague gesture and an even vaguer smile.
    She knew she had a great deal to think over, but her mind simply wouldn’t connect. Since she’d discovered the connection with VanDyke, she’d been in a tearing hurry to get home. Fate had played a hand. She’d been stuffingher gear into bags when she’d received a call from her father, asking her to come as soon as she was able to break away from the expedition.
    Well, she’d broken away, she thought. In record time.
    Since then, she’d done nothing but work and travel, catching snatches of sleep in between. She hoped VanDyke had already been informed she was thousands of miles from her post. She hoped he knew she’d thumbed her nose at him.
    With her briefcase in one hand, the carry-on slung over her shoulder, she negotiated the narrow steps to the tarmac. Her knees wobbled, and she was grateful for the shaded glasses that cut the glare of the brilliant sun.
    She saw them almost immediately, waving cheerfully while she waited for the pilot to unload her suitcase from cargo.
    How little they changed, she mused. Maybe there was a touch more gray threading through her father’s hair, but they were both so straight and slim and handsome. Both of them were grinning like fools, holding hands while they waved manically.
    Half of Tate’s travel fatigue drained just looking at them.
    But what in the hell have you gotten yourselves into? she wondered. Secrets that couldn’t be shared over the phone. Plots and plans and adventures. That damned amulet, that damned wreck. The damned Lassiters.
    It had been Ray’s enthusiasm about the possibility of hooking up with the Lassiters again that had weighed the scales in favor of Tate’s trip directly to Hatteras instead of to her own apartment in Charleston. She only hoped he’d listened to her and held off contacting Matthew. It was incomprehensible to her that any of them would want a repeat of that horrendous summer.
    Well, she was here now, she told herself as she gripped the strap and rolled her suitcase behind her. And she would talk some sense into her wonderful, but naive, parents.
    “Oh, honey. Honey, it’s so good to see you.” Marla’s arms came around her, gripped tight. “It’s been so long. Nearly a year this time.”
    “I know. I’ve missed you.” On a laugh, she let her carry-on drop so that she could pull her father into the embrace. “I’ve missed both of you. Oh, and you look terrific.” Tearing up, she pulled back to take a long, close-up look. “Really terrific. Mom, you’ve changed your hair. It’s almost as short as mine used to be.”
    “Do you like it?” Womanlike, Marla patted her sassily cropped do.
    “It’s great. Totally now.” And so youthfully flattering, Tate wondered how this