THE TREASURE SEEKER

 By Bill K.

 Part Three

  

The forecast of morning rain didn't materialize and the Florida Keys were once again greeted with blue skies, bright sunshine and crystal waters.  Linda and Veronica made one stop to pick up the tanks Linda had gotten for the day's dives, a second to pick up some lunch at a restaurant near the pier--Linda swore by their fried chicken--then headed for Pier Four and the queen.  As she was loading the tanks on board, Linda happened to glance up and spotted the Cuban at the end of the pier.  She turned to get Veronica's attention, but when she turned back to point him out, he was gone.  Irritated, she finished securing the gear and, with a final wary eye around the area, headed for the pilothouse to get underway.  
    "Veronica," Linda said once they had cast off, "Is it OK to talk about last night?"
    "If you have to," Veronica replied uncomfortably, ambling into the pilothouse.  "What's on your mind?"
    "What did the two guys who jumped you look like?"
    "They were big."
    "Uh, a little more specific."
    "I don't know!  They had stockings over their heads!  You saw them!  They were big and strong and evil!  That's as specific as I can get."
    "Do you think one of them might have been Cuban?"
    "I couldn't tell."
    "How about the other one?  You think he might have been blond?"
    Veronica pondered for a moment.
    "Yeah, now that you mention it.  Why?  Do you know them?"
    "I may have met them," Linda answered, her gaze focused on the course ahead.  "Night before last, two guys came trolling around my shop.  They handed me some story about wanting to hire me to dive west of the Keys.  Then they jumped me, tied me up and stole the air tanks I'd rented."
    "Oh my god!"
    "It gets better.  They hogtied me, just like you were, and one of them was blond."
    "You think they're the same guys?" gasped Veronica.
    "Maybe.  The question is what are they after?  There isn't any gold or treasure or anything on this 'Donna Bella', is there?"
    "No," replied Veronica.  "According to the letter, it was a troop ship sending reinforcements and provisions to the colonial government in Cuba.  It had food and clothing on it, but no treasure other than the money the soldiers might have brought with them.  That's probably no more than a few dozen gold coins at best."
    Linda looked at Veronica, concern peeking through the cracks in her calm exterior.
    "Then what do they want?" she asked.  Veronica shrugged helplessly.
    "Have you talked to the police?"
    "The cops are the ones who pointed it out to me.  I'm sure they're working on it.  We're just going to have to be careful.  If we get to the dive point and I see anything I don't like, I'm going back into port.  Deal?"
    Veronica nodded her head solemnly.
    By the time they reached the dive point, the brisk sea air and the beautiful sun in the sky had shoved paranoid suspicion to the back of their minds.  Linda donned her dive suit while Veronica stripped down to her one piece and they began working their gear on.
    "Isn't that hot?" Veronica asked, nodding at the cut off scuba suit Linda wore.  "I mean, it looks nice on you."
    "For these waters, I guess it's a little warm," shrugged Linda.  "It's a little more protection than a wisp of nylon.  Besides, I don't own a bikini."
    "It's OK.  You probably turn your share of heads on the dock in that. It looks good on you."
    "Thanks, but turning those heads doesn't rate high on my to do list."
    "So whose head do you want to turn?" Veronica asked pointedly, with an arched eyebrow.  Linda remained silent.  "Come on, dish.  I told you all of my intimate secrets about Darien."
    "There," Linda said hesitantly, "isn't."
    "Nobody?  How about that cute cop from last night?"
    "Like he'd be interested in me," muttered Linda, adjusting her mask.
    "Why not?"
    "You know how easily intimidated guys are.  They like their women soft and feminine.  I lift too much.  I've got muscles.  Guys don't like muscles."
    "You'd be surprised at what some guys like," admonished Veronica.  "I admit, they're not as common as the jerks, but they are out there."
    "Oh?  Are you dating one?"
    "Well, no.  But that--"
    "I rest my case," Linda said and popped the regulator in her mouth.
    "No, you haven't changed a bit," Veronica scowled and did the same.
    Enveloped in the warm Atlantic, Linda and Veronica forgot about their troubles and began searching.  Since nothing had turned up west of the dive point, they headed south, the thinking still being that if it wasn't at the point where it was listed as sunk, it might be where the current had taken it.
Linda was having a better time keeping up with Veronica's stronger stroke; Veronica had altered it, as well, to accommodate her partner.  They sighted a coral formation amid some stray sea grass and angled over.  
    Amid the jagged rocks and tangles of vegetation was wreckage, all right, but not the type they were looking for.  It was the remains of a crudely built boat, constructed from several types of mismatched wood and haphazardly nailed together.  A gaping hole along the keel, from where one of the planks had either torn away or just disintegrated, suggested why the boat sank.  Linda kept Veronica back as she scanned the wreck with her light.  She didn't want her friend to see what might still be on it.  Finally satisfied there were no bodies still aboard, she released her hold on Veronica's arm, shook her head and gestured to the other side of the formation.
    On the other side were colorful blooms and fish in all colors of the rainbow.  There were also empty Heineken bottles, plastic wrap and other debris, but nothing to the naked eye that suggested an old Spanish ship to Linda.  Once again, though, Veronica's eye proved keener.  She pointed toward a hunk of metal resting amid shadows.  When Linda scanned it and gave her go-ahead, Veronica swam down and retrieved it.  As one, they gestured toward the surface.
    "What is that?" Linda asked as she dragged the tank off of her back.  
    "Let me get a good look," Veronica said, pulling off her mask and squatting on the deck on weary legs.  "Yes, it's the trigger mechanism for an old musket.  Spanish design, too.  The wood portion probably rotted away."
    "From the 'Donna Bella'?"
    "It's a good possibility," smiled Veronica.  "See, we're on the right track."
    "As long as your check doesn't bounce, I never doubted you," grinned Linda.
    "So what was that other wreck down there?" Veronica asked curiously.
    "Refugee boat," scowled Linda.
    "From Cuba?"
    "Most likely.  You've heard the news stories about fifteen or twenty Cuban refugees floating to Florida on a raft or a boat made of bubble gum and tissue paper?" Linda recounted.  "Well, they don't all make it, especially the ones who go out on a piece of crap like that."
    "Do you suppose they were found?" Veronica asked.  "That they made it?"
    "I didn't see any bodies," Linda said, then shrugged.  "Of course, maybe sharks got them."
    "Linda!"
    "Don't let the palm trees and island breezes fool you, Veronica," Linda replied, a tone of warning in her voice.  "It's a jungle down here sometimes."
    "Well that's depressing."
    Linda smiled to herself.  "I've got just the thing to perk you up then:  Mama Lucille's melt-in-your-mouth southern fried chicken."
    "The stuff we picked up this morning?" squealed Veronica.  "Oh, my knees got weak just smelling it!"
    "I've got a little microwave in the cabin.  Just let me heat it up."
    But before she went into the cabin, Linda gave the surrounding waters a long, careful look.  The horizon, though, was empty for as far as she could see.

    The afternoon saw the pair dive two more times with encouraging results.  The second dive netted them a rusted tankard.  Veronica couldn't be positive, but said it looked like the style used by the Spanish of the period.  On the last dive, Linda spotted a period helmet and Veronica found another musket mechanism and two Spanish gold coins.  There was jubilation when they returned to the boat.  As Linda brought her back into port, Veronica set to work instantly photographing and examining the pieces.  She was almost giddy with excitement and Linda felt excited just from seeing Veronica's eyes dance the way they did.  Once more they were two little girls in Eau Claire trying on perfume, trading wishes for the future or discovering for the first time that boys could actually be cute and not nuisances.
    "Hey, Veronica," Linda called during the trip.  "This wreck we're looking for.  How do you know it hasn't been found already?"
    "No one's ever documented finding a ship named the 'Donna Bella'," Veronica said, wandering into the pilothouse.  "And no one's ever documented finding a wreck in this particular spot before."
    "So how do you know it's here?"
    "The letter."
    "You keep referring to this letter.  What letter?"
    "It's a letter from King Charles I to the governor of Cuba answering his request for replacement provisions and reinforcements, and giving him basically his marching orders for the foreseeable future.  It mentions the Donna Bella's sinking in 1516 and acknowledges the approximate place it sank."
    "So why hasn't anybody used this letter to look for it before?" asked Linda.
    "We just found it.  A doctor of comparative religions with the university was studying the old volumes in a Catholic Church in Spain and ran across this.  Apparently since Charles was so closely connected to the Catholic Church at the time, he had copies of important papers stored with the church for safekeeping.  This letter was one of those papers.  Dr. Ambrose passed the contents of the letter along to the archaeology department and they sent me to check it out."  Veronica sighed happily.  "Oh, Linda, do you realize just how cool it'll be if she's down there and we find it?"
    "Not really, but I'm getting an impression," grinned Linda.
    Veronica wrinkled her nose playfully at Linda and went back to work.  Linda shook her head.  She couldn't understand how old Veronica, the girl that beat Tommy Jones in a foot race, could get so worked up over something like archaeology.  Still, it made her feel good to see her friend's passions spill over like that.
    "When we get docked," Veronica said breathlessly, poking her head into the pilothouse as they neared the pier, "I'll call the university and tell them what we found."
    "Then they send the troops?" asked Linda, hoping the answer was no.  She liked being with Veronica again and didn't want it to end so quickly.
    "No, not yet!" scoffed Veronica incredulously.  "We haven't even found the wreck!  You don't get rid of me that easily.  But we're getting closer!"
    "How close?"
    "I don't know.  That's the wild thing about it.  We could stumble over it tomorrow, or we could be diving for another two weeks.  You didn't have anything planned, did you?"
    "If I did, I'd cancel," said Linda with a light air.  "Can't let my old pal down."
    Veronica smiled at that, her upper teeth biting lightly into her lower lip, the way she always did when she was thrilled and embarrassed at the same time.  Right at that moment, Linda wanted to reach over and hug her, but the boat wouldn't dock herself.  
    The boat barely touched the dock when Veronica, her gear in one hand and today's haul in the other, vaulted off the rail and onto the pier.  Her black hair flew in her eyes and she blew strands away as she turned to Linda when her friend called out to her.
    "I thought we'd get together again tonight," Linda said.  
    "Sure.  Dinner somewhere other than my room?"
    "Actually, I thought I better sleep over tonight," Linda replied, growing serious.  "I mean, well, we've both been attacked alone, you know?  Maybe we'll be safer if we stick together during the evening, at least until the cops catch these guys."
    "I guess you're right," Veronica said, suddenly feeling very vulnerable.  "You want to watch me while I call the university?"
    "I don't think we need to go totally paranoid," grinned Linda, showing  bravado to Veronica that she didn't feel herself.  "Just keep out in the open so someone can see you or put a chair up against your hotel room door.  I'm going to see the police, see if they've got anything new."
    Linda hauled the tanks over to Zeke Robinson's to get them filled.  
    "You ladies find anything good?" Zeke asked.  He was nosy, but Linda knew Zeke was harmless.
    "A few pieces of four hundred year old Spanish junk," grinned Linda.  "Try not to spread it all over town, huh?"
    "You takin' away stuff I got to trade, you cuttin' into my business, girl," jabbed Zeke.  "'Sides, didn't I cut you a break on those stolen tanks?"
    "I'm still burning about that."  Linda thought a moment.  "Zeke, you seen a couple of characters lurking around the pier recently?  One's Cuban and the other's a cute blond white guy?"
    "Hell, girl, this place is lousy with Cubans and cute blond white guys!" muttered Zeke.  "Why you ask?  They the two that jumped you?"
    "Yeah," Linda replied.  "They may have jumped my client last night, too."
    "Do tell.  Sounds like they might be after more'n your tanks."
    "Just what I was thinking.  Keep an eye out, huh?"
    "Blond guy and a Cuban," murmured Zeke.  "The Cuban light or dark?"
    "Medium light," judged Linda.
    "I'll keep an eye out.  Maybe pass the word to a few of the others."
    "You're a doll, Zeke, in spite of what they say about you," grinned Linda and she left.  Zeke followed her out with his eyes, as she was still clad in her diving suit, watching the movement of her hips and legs as she walked.
    "So are you, baby," he smiled.

    In the parking lot of the police substation that served the docks, Linda spotted the cute officer from the previous night.  She had changed from her dive suit into white twill shorts and a yellow short sleeve shirt tied at the midriff.  He spotted her as she headed for him and waited for her to arrive.
    "Hello again, um," he stopped, searching for a name, "Miss Wilson, isn't it?"
    "You remembered," smiled Linda.  "But call me Linda."
    "Sam Collinsworth," he replied, nodding respectfully with that easy smile of his.  Linda realized that she could grow to like that smile very easily.  "Nothing else has happened, has it?"
    "No," she chuckled.  "I just kind of, well, stopped by to see if anything new had turned up.  Any idea if the two break-ins were related?"
    "You'd have to talk to somebody in the burglary division," he offered apologetically.  "They've got the case now.  I haven't heard anything new myself."
    "They're downtown, right?  I'd hate to go all the way down there.  I wonder if I could call."  Linda glanced at Sam again and suddenly was struck with a wild, out of the blue idea.  "Um, I," she began quickly before she could chicken out, "would you like to go out?  I mean, not tonight, but sometime in the next two weeks?  That didn't exactly sound right."
    "Well," Sam replied delicately, holding up his hand so Linda could see the ring on the third finger, "I wouldn't mind, but I think my wife would."
    "Ohhh, yeah, that would probably become kind of sticky," Linda responded, wishing she could crawl into a hole.  "I'm sorry, I-I didn't know."
    "It's OK.  I'm kind of flattered a pretty lady like you would be interested."
    "Right.  Well, why don't I just go and let you get back to whatever it was you were doing."  Linda turned to leave, then turned back awkwardly.  "Maybe I'll call those guys at burglary division."
    She turned around and consciously forced her legs not to run.
    "And maybe I'll just shoot myself," she muttered to herself.  "Nice to see my luck with men is running true to form."

    It was nearly six when Linda entered the lobby of the hotel.  The desk clerk looked up at her, recalled the previous night and made a face, but said nothing.  She ignored him and took the elevator up to Veronica's room.  Mama Lucille's chicken had finally worn off and Linda was ready for a nice dinner in a nice restaurant and trying to recapture more of her friendship with Veronica.
    She came up to the door and tried the knob, but it was locked.  Linda nodded in approval and knocked.
    "Veronica, it's me," she called through the door.  "What do you say we hit the hotel restaurant?  I'm starved!"
    The door opened and Linda pushed in.  As she walked over the threshold, though, something registered in her brain as not right.  Too late, though, for the door closed behind her.  A man's hand seized her upper left arm as her assailant's right arm brought a knife up against her throat.  Linda froze.
    "Do exactly what I tell you and you live to see tomorrow," whispered a male voice in her ear.

Chapter Four

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