ISLANDS

Manden threw the throttle forward as we rounded the Treasure Island breakwater, and the Whaler shot ahead, sea-spray splintering off the bow. Glitter of white teeth and mirrored shades.

“Little rough today,” he shouted over the roaring motor and waves slapping the hull. “Got to move it or we’ll miss high tide.”

The boat’s surge shoved me into the seat. Big waves rolled in, and we seemed to be jumping the watery peaks instead of climbing them. I clung to the console, foam spattering over its spray shield as the Whaler crashed up and down and wings of churning white swept back from the bow.

Manden spun the wheel, swerving around a coral head. I let out a pent-up breath as we shot through a stretch of deep blue, swung around another shallow formation. After a while I stopped straining and decided to enjoy the scenery.

We were rounding the West End cliffs, sheer rock climbing to lush green, threaded by a narrow ribbon of falling water. No sign of people, but this was Brotherhood territory, the Dreads who claimed Ship Bay. What did they know about the Phoenix and its dangerous Jumbies? What did Manden know?

No clues in his blunt profile or the work-roughened fingers rubbing his beard, gripping the wheel. Grabbing my ankle as I hovered over the watery abyss, shadow man dragging me deeper. Maybe I’d gone as crazy as everyone else on the island. It was more than the petroglyph theory now, more than John’s death. Manden was right, I had to dive in and find out—

“Look!”

I jumped.

“Dolphins.” He slowed the Whaler.

I squinted under my hand, saw them farther out. Two, no, three sleek curves, leaping the waves. They flung themselves in acrobatic twists into the air, plunged in a burst of sun-dazzled spray, raced on out to sea.

“The way they move, it must be magic.”

“That’s what—” He shook his head.

“What?”

“John. Said the same thing. No matter what he was doing, if he spotted dolphins, he’d take off after them. Jump in to swim with them.”

I could see him leaping with a whoop into the sea, trying to out-swim a dolphin. “Thank you.”

“What for?” He was peering over the side, steering around shallow banks.

“You didn’t have to tell me that.”

He shot me a look through the mirrored lenses. He pointed up at the cliffs. “This is my favorite part of the island. Still wild, still itself.”

Another waterfall, this one higher, plummeted off the green-fringed black rock, and rainbows sparkled the mist over boulders below. I took a deep breath of clean salt air. Deep blue sea rocked us, white crests fretting at the foot of the cliffs and sun burning away the shadows.

I turned to Manden. He smiled.

I smiled back. Out here, I couldn’t hang onto the reasons why I shouldn’t.

“So why did you decide to try me again? You’ve heard it all by now.” He nudged the throttle up to speed, glancing over the side.

I hesitated. “Adrienne gave you a sterling character reference.”

“She’s an incredible kid.”

“Hardly a kid. Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed she’s a knockout.”

The mirrored shades swung towards me. He pursed his lips, shot the throttle forward to make the Whaler leap. His white grin flashed.

The waves were rolling in white-frothed now, stronger wind from the open gulf lashing spray. “Could be rough!” he shouted. “Hang on.”

The sea was darker here than on the east side. Waves slapped with building force, the Whaler dipping and plunging. Manden abruptly cut speed, spinning the wheel, heading straight toward the cliffs. The wind was behind us now, pushing damp strands over my face.

He pointed. “Through that gap.”

I’d seen the cove before, a round bowl cupped by steep green hills and stone walls. High in the dense forest above it, barely visible, a wooden railing and wall—the party shack where the druggies hung out. It couldn’t be coincidence.

“What?” His mirrored lenses reflected my face gone wary.

I pointed. “All this time I’ve been searching for the cove, I was looking right at it. Laura took me to a party in that shack up there.”

“I’d watch it with her.”

“She says the same thing about you.”

“Big surprise.” He angled the boat into the entrance gap, waves boiling over shallow rocks.

I grabbed the console as he shoved the throttle and we leaped into the churning cut. The Whaler rolled sideways, bucked, tipped, was spewed into the calm bowl of the cove.

Manden slowed, watching over the side and steering around a barely-covered rock. He waved at the encircling walls. “No way to get down here from land, and no beach. So don’t worry about the Dreads hassling us, anyway they’re afraid of the cove . . . . What I pieced together, the slave ship was driven up against the island in a storm. Northers come up fast around here. They had to chance the cove, couldn’t have known how shallow the entrance is.”

“So it broke up there?” I glanced uneasily around the rock ramparts, hoping he was right about the Dreads.

“Tore apart into two main sections, got carried out into the middle.” He gestured with his chin. “Some pieces scattered, but the two hull sections are still close together. Overgrown with coral now, not much to look at, except where we worked the anchor and part of its chain free.”

“The anchor.” I swallowed. “That’s where John drowned.”

He nodded curtly. “I found him pinned under it.” Voice flat. “He must have tipped it over on himself, looking for that damned treasure.”

“Or someone else tipped it.” No response. I cleared my throat. “You never found anything valuable?”

I thought he wouldn’t answer, but he finally said stiffly, “Probably nothing to find. Just a lot of old stories that had Laura and John all whooped up, talked me into it. Some taboo about the cove, the Phoenix wreck, forbidden gold guarded by Jumbies who’d put a curse on the place. People who’d tried to find the treasure kept getting killed.”