The Reef

pressed her cheek to his, but sensing his embarrassment, pulled back. “Well, tell me about this.” She spread her arms wide to encompass the boat. “How long have you had her?”
    “Matthew finished her only a few days before we sailed up.”
    Her smile faded; her arms dropped back to her sides. “Matthew?”
    “He built her,” Buck said with pride ringing in every syllable. “Designed her, worked on her off and on for years.”
    “Matthew designed and built this boat, himself?”
    “Just about single-handed. I’ll show you around.” As he led her around the deck from bow to stern, he ran a commentary on the design, the stability, the speed. Every few minutes, his hand would run along a rail or fitting with affection.
    “I gave him grief over her,” Buck admitted. “But the boy proved me wrong. We ran into a squall off of Georgia, and she took it like a lady.”
    “Umm-hmm.”
    “She carries two-hundred-gallon freshwater capacity,” he went on, bragging like a doting papa. “And storage, the way he set her out, she’s got as much as you find on a sixty-footer. Got twin motors, a hundred and forty-five shaft horsepower.”
    “Sounds like he’s in a hurry,” she muttered. When she stepped into the pilothouse, her eyes widened. “God, Buck, the equipment.”
    Stunned, she walked through, examining. Top-of-the-line sonar, depth finders, magnetometer. The cockpit held excellent and pricey navigational equipment, a radiotelephone, radio direction finder, a NavTex for offshoreweather data and, to her complete amazement, an LCD-screen video plotter.
    “The boy wanted the best.”
    “Yes, but—” She wanted to ask how he’d paid for it, but was afraid the answer might be her parents. Instead she took a deep breath and promised to find the answer herself, later. “It’s quite a setup.”
    The pilothouse boasted full visibility, access from starboard and port. There was a wide flat chart table, empty now, and glossy cabinets with brass fittings for storage. Even a settee berth with thick navy padding over wood had been built into a corner.
    A far cry, she mused, from the Sea Devil.
    “Come take a look at the cabins. Hell, guess I should call ’em staterooms. Got two of them, with heads. Sleep snug as a bug down there. And the galley’s one even your ma would be proud of.”
    “Sure, I’d love to see. Buck,” she began as they exited to stern. “How long has Matthew been planning on going back to look for the Isabella?”
    “Can’t say. Probably since we left the Marguerite. Ask me, it’s been preying on his mind all along. All he lacked was the time and the means.”
    “The means,” Tate repeated. “Did he come into some money then?”
    “LaRue bought in.”
    “LaRue? Who—”
    “Did I hear my name?”
    Tate saw a figure at the base of the companionway. As she stepped down she made out a thin, nattily dressed man somewhere between forty and fifty. Gold winked out of his grin as he offered a hand to help her down.
    “Ah, mademoiselle, my head spins.” He swept her hand up to his lips.
    “Don’t pay this scrawny Canuk any mind, Tate. He thinks he’s a ladies’ man.”
    “A man who reveres and appreciates women,” LaRue corrected. “I’m enchanted to meet you at last, and to have such beauty grace our humble home.”
    At a glance, the neat, shipshape deckhouse lookedanything but humble. Wood gleamed on the dining bar where colorfully padded stools stood waiting. Someone had hung framed charts, yellowed with age, on the walls. She was astonished to see a vase of fresh daffodils on a table.
    “Guess it’s a big step up from the Sea Devil,” Buck commented.
    “From Sea Devil to Mermaid. ” LaRue grinned. “Can I offer you tea, mademoiselle?”
    “No.” She was still blinking in shock. “Thanks. I have to get back. There are a number of things I have to talk over with my parents.”
    “Ah, yes. Your father, he was thrilled that you would be going with us. Me, I’m delighted to know two such lovely ladies will be adding charm to the journey.”
    “Tate’s not just a lady,” Buck said. “She’s a hell of a diver, a natural born treasure hunter, and she’s a scientist.”
    “A woman of many talents,” LaRue murmured. “I’m humbled.”
    Baffled, she stared at him. “You shipped with Matthew?”
    “Indeed. It has been my trial to try to induce some culture into his life.”
    Buck snorted. “Shit with an accent’s still shit. Begging your pardon,