Death By Sunken Treasure (A Hayden Kent Mystery Book 2) Read Online Free Page A

was beyond me now anyway.
    My fingers scraped the sandy bottom as I reached for the line with one hand while supporting myself on the bottom with the other hand. As I pushed myself off the bottom, my fingers clawed into the sand and uncovered two small rocks. I shoved them in the pocket of my buoyancy compensation vest and began to rewind the line.
    Only seconds remained before my dive profile demanded a decompression stop in these cold waters. My mental fog cleared as I swam along the bottom to shallower water. I worked feverishly to rewind the line and dropped the coil over the auger head, grateful for the lack of current to fight as I rose slowly along the stretched-out anchor line. The algorithms in the computer credited me with time as I swam to shallower depths. Still I hovered within minutes of having to do a decompression stop. I considered blowing off my first safety stop. Cappy’s engine sounded sporadically now. I knew he gauged my ascent.
    At seventy feet I decided to stop for a minute and see how the stop affected my decompression time. After forty seconds, I realized I needed to ascend farther up the line. At fifty feet, I stopped for three minutes. The computer nudged the outer limits of non-decompression time when I kicked for fifteen feet and my second safety stop. I stayed for five minutes, although the cold made me think of cutting the last two minutes short.
    Gratefully, I broke the surface at the bow of the little boat and swam for the stern and safety.
    Cappy’s face was a mask of anger. I knew I had endangered myself, but darn it, couldn’t he help me up before he started screaming?
    I spit out my regulator and pulled my mask down around my neck to ask him for help. His face changed in an instant and he jumped over the stern transom to the tiny swim platform next to the motor. He almost fell in when he grabbed the straps of my buoyancy compensator vest and pulled me out by sheer force.
    “Do I look that awful?”
    “Girl, you are blue around the mouth. What were you thinking?” He interrupted himself by waving his hand in front of his face. “Never mind. Let’s get you warm. Then I can tell you how angry I am.”
    I smiled through trembling lips at his words. He might be angry, but I’d escaped a lecture and the worst of his wrath.
    “What happened down there?”
    “I’m not sure, Cappy. There’s definitely a wreck. Easy to spot by the cannon and some timbers.”
    “You are a sand dweller. Always going as deep as you can on any dive. Otherwise I would blame narcosis.”
    I was glad he stood behind me to help me out of my gear, unable to see the blush heating my cheeks. My thumb caught in my buoyancy compensator pocket as he lifted it off me.
    “Wait.” I plunged my hand into the BC pocket and pulled out the two pebbles I found near the search line. I opened my hand and gazed at the find. Free of my gear, I turned to face the dive captain. Together we stared at my palm.
    Two coins, partially encrusted with coral, winked up at me. My breath caught in my throat. These Spanish coins hadn’t seen the light of day in three hundred years or more.
    “Doubloons,” we said in unison.

Four

      
    The doubloons burned a hole in my trouser pocket as I drove from Marathon to my office in Islamorada the next morning. A few more Keys and bridges and I would be at my office. I wanted Grant to lock my treasure find in the office safe.
    I pulled into the lot at the Victorian house that served as our office, drove my car to the rear of the property and parked next to Grant’s cherry red Jag. Grant’s car at this hour of the morning meant something was going on. I hoped his early arrival wasn’t brought on by my absence yesterday. I inserted my key and swung the door open. The welcome smell of freshly-brewed coffee wafted from the kitchen through the lobby.
    “Kent.” Grant’s voice rang out from his office even before the door shut behind me. I tried to gauge his mood from his tone. He sounded