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

calm, and he’d called me by my last name. Always a good thing.
    “Coffee’s on. Grab a cup and come in here.”
    I shot a glance at my office on my way to the kitchen. Only one file sat in the middle of my desk. That didn’t portend a bad day. I wanted to scoot in and see what might lie on my chair, but I saw Grant’s face reflected in the mirror across from his office. He watched me too.
    “Nothing’s on your chair, Hayden. Just get your coffee.”
    I rolled my eyes in response.
    “I saw that.” His laughter followed me down the hall.
    I popped the top on a new cream container, poured a generous amount into my mug and filled the cup to the brim with my favorite coffee from Maine, Backdraft Roast from the Carrabassett Valley. A smile tugged at the corner of my lips as I imagined Grant’s reaction to my find. “Need a refill?” I shouted down the hall, fighting back a giggle. Sometimes we seemed like a couple. In reality, we had been coworkers for years and friends for longer than that. Ever since I almost lost my life to a renegade Coast Guard lieutenant, the relationship had started to change subtly. I liked the changes.
    A smile played at my lips. I took a sip for cover. He met my eyes as soon as I tapped a foot against his office door to announce my presence.
    “Cat swallow the canary?” he asked.
    Smiling openly now, I shook my head. No way was I going to tell him I liked our budding relationship. That was a conversation for outside the office. “Nope,” I said. “Mallory owns the bird. My critter is a cat, remember?”
    He shook his head in response to my non sequitur. “Why do I ever think I’ll get a straight answer out of you?”
    I sat down and put my mug on the corner of his desk. “What’s up?” I jiggled my legs back and forth like a child. I almost blurted out my find, but our working relationship dictated he speak first.
    His grey green eyes darkened at my question. “We’ve got to file Mike Terry’s will today. I want to get the probate rolling.” He paused and straightened some papers on his desk. “How did the dive go yesterday? Did you learn anything?”
    The silence stretched between us. I took the opportunity to order my thoughts.
    “Nothing much. As we expected, there was nothing underwater indicating how Mike died. Except for a grouper, a moray eel, and the remains of a very old wreck, nothing much was down there.” I pushed my hand into my pocket and fingered the doubloons. Part of me couldn’t wait to pull them out and slap them on the desk. Another part of me wanted to keep them. I knew the treasure belonged to the estate. But that didn’t stop me from craving the sensation the raw gold brought. What would it be like to have a treasure chest full of gold coins? The thought affected me more than I wanted to admit.
    A muscle danced in Grant’s jaw. I wondered if it indicated interest or disappointment. “Are you kidding me?”
    That wasn’t what I expected to hear. “About what?” I kept my fingers on the doubloons.
    He got up and paced the floor. “Remains of a wreck. They searched the area for how many years and you tell me there are easily identifiable remains lying on the ocean floor?” He spun around in mid-stride and returned to prop himself on the edge of the desk.
    I remembered that Mike had told us he broke ties with his two partners and cut them out of the salvage portion of the treasure hunt within the last month. I gave a low whistle and pulled the gold from my pocket. “That ain’t all that was in easy view. I’ve got some estate assets right here.”
    His eyes bulged as I lifted my hand with the coins. For the first time I realized just how dangerous Mike’s actions had been. The coins were impossible to look at without desire. How would Mike’s ousted partners handle losing the chunks of gold?
    Grant blew a little puff of air, lifting the brown hair that flopped over his forehead. “You just happened to find these lying around?”
    “They were