Page 24 of Pirates in Calusa Cove

But the ocean did strange things to boats that sank.

It often took years, decades, even centuries for ships to be found.

She panned her light on the ocean floor. She swam in a twenty-foot zigzag, constantly checking her compass. She didn’t want to get too far from her boat. That would suck.

Mallary swam like a banshee in front of her, looking over her shoulder and then pointing at something.

Slow down. You’re wasting oxygen.

But Mallary did nothing of the sort. She kept on going. She was a faint dark spot in front of Trinity.

Trinity kicked harder, keeping her light pinned onMallary until she spotted a white and blue object…a boat.

Holy crap. Jackpot. That was it. Jared’s boat. They’d found it.

Mallary twisted and turned and danced in the water. Massive air bubbles moved relentlessly above her head.

Their tanks were already low, and if Mallary wasn’t careful, she’d have to surface before they were ready.

Trinity tried to signal to her to take it easy. They would need to be careful as they swam around the boat, poking around inside. Vessels did strange things while submerged underwater, even sitting on the bottom of the ocean floor. But Mallary wasn’t having any of that. She was off to the races. Dodging in and out. Up and down. She opened the head, and the boat shifted.

Trinity kicked, swimming upward, panic seizing her heart for a moment. She shined the light, searching for her friend. Left. Right. Panning back and forth, and then finally, she found Mallary. Well, her fins anyway, sticking out of the head.

Quickly, she checked her tank. Five minutes, and then they’d have to head up.

Mallary jerked her body. The boat shifted again. A weird howl echoed under the murky water. The vessel might roll completely to its side if they weren’t careful.

Trinity tugged on Mallary’s fin. Thank God, Mallary swam backward. She held up a box. Her eyes were wide as if to say,holy crap. What have I found?Slowly, Mallary lifted the lid, and Trinity’s heart dropped to her toes like an anchor pitching to the depths of the ocean floor.

The jewels from theFlying Victoria.

Gently, Trinity closed the box and pointed toward the surface. As her gaze shifted, she noted the oxygen level on Mallary’s tank.

Crap. She didn’t have enough to safely get back to the top.

Trinity tapped the gauge. She pointed to her own regulator. She’d done this during training but had never had to do it during an emergency. Mallary would likely panic. Trinity put the box in her bag. She held Mallary’s gaze and slowly began to surface. She pointed to Mallary’s tank. Then to her own regulator. Then to Mallary’s mouth. Mallary nodded.

Hopefully, that meant she knew they would be sharing some oxygen at some point. But they needed to decompress. They needed to do it slowly and safely.

They got about seventy-five feet when Mallary’s tank emptied.

Trinity pushed Mallary’s regulator from her mouth and inserted hers. Trinity would have to be in control, and Mallary would have to follow instructions.

This should be fun. Not. Especially with the panic registering in Mallary’s eyes.

Swiftly, Trinity snagged the regulator, and Mallary tried to make a beeline for the surface.

Trinity took in a few breaths, tugging at Mallary. She was a stronger swimmer than Trinity had expected, but she managed to bring Mallary back down to her level and gave her a few breaths before taking it back, ensuring she got the air she needed. She checked the oxygen. This was going to be a close call.

Keaton was going to have her head on a platter, andshe didn’t blame him. But he’d have to read Mallary the Riot Act, too.

Trinity made her calculated stops, giving their bodies time to adjust. This was obviously hard for Mallary. It didn’t matter that she was getting enough oxygen. Or that her body was doing what it needed. She was in panic mode and hyped up with adrenaline.

Once Trinity hit approximately sixty feet, she no longer needed to stop, but she continued to ascend slowly, just in case. She had no idea what Mallary’s body could handle.

However, at about thirty feet, Mallary reached for the jewels. Her hands fumbled. Her eyes grew wide as the need for oxygen registered. She turned and hauled ass for the surface—without the box. It remained tucked safely in Trinity’s bag.

Trinity could hold her breath for up to forty-four feet. That was a long-ass dive. It wasn’t easy. Not something she wanted to do regularly, but she’d wanted to know her body’s limits, so she’d tested it with a full oxygen tank. She knew other divers who could do fifty, but they were rock stars.

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