I pulled on my bathing suit and watched Em out of the corner of my eye.
“What are you doing?”
“Getting ready,” she said.
“Em, that’s a thong, for God’s sake.”
Her tan thighs, butt, abs and everything else were well defined and the brief suit showed it all off.
“Skip, stop it. It’s not a thong.”
“No. You look-you look fabulous.” I remembered how she looked last night without any of this brief cover-up, but that was a private moment. This was on display for James and anyone else who cared to look.
“Thank you.”
“It’s just that James and-”
“Oh, for crying out loud. This is what I brought, and this is what I’m wearing.”
“For that reason only?”
She turned and shot an angry glance over her shoulder as she adjusted her breasts in the thin material of her bikini.
“And just what does that mean?”
“We have a visitor. I’ve seen her in her bikini. Is this by any chance a one-upsmanship?”
“Would you rather I wear a sweat suit?” She turned to me, displaying a very scantily clad perfect torso. “Or do you want a frumpy one-piece that looks like something your mother would have worn?”
I studied her.
“Do you?”
The answer was no. No. No. No. However …
I loved to check out her body. And the fact that there might be a jealousy contest between the two ladies actually excited me. But I had to admit I didn’t like the idea of James seeing all that I was intimate with.
“So, the way Amy looks has nothing to do with-”
She punched me on the arm. Not a light punch by any means. She could have done damage to a pro boxer.
Em wore a cover-up and carried a beach bag as we stepped into the truck. Amy, James, Em, and I. Amy had a cover-up as well. I was anxious to see her outfit revealed.
“Amy, do you have your own mask?” I was renting mine.
“I do,” she said. “I haven’t had that many dives, but enough that I know I don’t want someone else’s mask and mouthpiece.”
I nodded. That would be a preferable situation. My own mask and mouthpiece. Perfect. However, I never thought this hobby would be more than a college credit course.
James turned the key and the engine roared. A new battery had solved the problem. We pulled out of the parking lot and drove south to Skeeter’s Dive Shop.
“So, Amy-” Em started the conversation with nothing to say. Do you mention the husband? The kid? The guy she came down with? Or the affair with James? It didn’t seem to matter, she was a part of the team. This Amy-no one seemed to know her last name-was my backup. I’d been told that a backup was sometimes useless unless they were good friends. A backup had their own agenda and often was off on that task, rather than watching your back.
As we pulled into the parking lot of Skeeter’s Dive Shop, I thought about that. Maybe I should have just done a solo dive.
I wished to God that I had decided to do that. Then Amy took off the filmy cover-up.
This twenty-three-year-old girl had the figure of a goddess. I must have been staring at her perfect narrow waist and hips and legs to die for.
“Settle down, big boy,” Em whispered in my ear as she shed her cover-up.
I turned and was once again in awe. My girlfriend had a fabulous body. I saw James, his eyes wide open and a leer on his face.
Skeeter had the boat ready and all the diving gear was neatly stowed.
“Here’s your detector. I put in some fresh batteries, and I even tested it. Seems to be working just fine.”
Amy and Em cast a wary glance at our boat, but James and I stepped in, the little ship rocking back and forth. If we hit any waves, I had a feeling this thing could go over in a heartbeat.
“You know where you’re headed?”
I nodded. I didn’t think we needed a GPS for this trip. It was just off the Cheeca Lodge dock.
“Okay, you have that boat back by one p.m. or there’ll be a full-day charge, you understand?”
“Got it.”
We helped the girls in, and they put on life preservers.
Untying the two ropes, Skeeter tossed them to us as James started the motor. Fifteen seconds later, we were headed out to sea.
“Everything okay back there, little buddy?” Leave it to James to start with the Gilligan references.
The engine was loud, and combined with the wind, it was hard to hear, so we spent the next ten minutes in silence, watching for the long pier.
James had the throttle pushed all the way, but the boat crawled. If we had planned on going any distance at all, it would have taken all day to get there.
Finally, the pier came into view and James veered out, approximately a quarter of a mile off the end.
“Nobody out here.”
He slowed down, from what must have been ten miles an hour, to an even slower cruise. Looking back to the shore I could make out the Cheeca Lodge, the location of the Millionaire’s Club back in the thirties.
“How deep is it supposed to be, Skip?” Amy leaned over the edge and looked into the murky water. The boat rocked slightly and we all sat still until the swell subsided.
“Skeeter says anywhere from two to twenty feet. I think the gold-the coins-are probably in the deepest part.”
She nodded. “And how big an area are you going to explore?”
I had no idea. “We’ll play it by ear. Or until the air supply runs out.”
Em grabbed my jaw and squeezed. “Please, don’t say that.”
We sat there for a minute, the boat gently drifting, water lapping at its battered fiberglass body. The sun was still low in the morning sky and the blue-green water reflected orange rays that bounced along the surface of the ocean. James tossed in the anchor and the rope went down quite a ways.
“What do you estimate?”
“Fifteen, twenty feet.”
“A real treasure hunt.” Amy seemed ready for the adventure. I wasn’t so sure that I was.
“Pard,” James pointed at me, hoisting a plastic bag he’d carried on board. “I brought binoculars.”
“I don’t think those amount to much underwater.”
“I’m using them up here. Keep surveillance on top of the water. You keep an eye on what’s going on down below.”
“I was just curious why you’re diving here?” Amy was going to analyze the situation. That couldn’t do us any good. “I mean, Islamorada has all those Spanish ships that went down in the seventeen hundreds. I hear that a lot of divers find coins on those expeditions.”
“Yeah, well we have information that says this is a good spot.” I was hoping to shut down this line of questioning.
She nodded. “What’s the next step?”
“We dive.”
“Tanks have been checked?”
I nodded my head. “Yeah.”
The old man seemed like he knew what he was doing. Still, some diver who’d used Skeeter’s services had run out of air and we were using the dead man’s metal detector. I was a little nervous.
“Hey, Skip,” Amy was strapping on her tank. “Have you ever dived naked?”
Em looked at her, James looked at her, and I stopped mid-process for a second. The image of this lady diving with nothing-
“Have you?” I asked her.
“I have. It’s a kick.”
“Let’s not try it today while you two are underwater, okay?” Em didn’t sound too happy.
I pulled on my flippers and, sitting on the side of the boat, we adjusted our mouthpieces and masks. I thought about what I was doing. The detector in hand, I realized I had no business being here. But then, what was new? Every time I get into a project with James Lessor, I end up in over my head.
Amy flipped over, entering the water, and I followed her, leaving James and Em by themselves for who knew how long. That was going to be crazy time.
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
I’d forgotten how peaceful it could be. We were no more than fifteen feet down, and the maximum was going to be twenty, but serenity settled in quickly. I could hear the bubbles as I released my air, filtered by the steady hum in my earphone. Don’t forget how to breathe. Amy was up ahead, her cute butt bobbing as she kicked her flippers. Already I questionied her as my partner.