The Girl Beneath the Sea (Underwater Investigation Unit #1)(76)

Dad takes the radio from me and inspects it. “Interesting.” He shows us the bottom of the radio, on which a number has been handwritten in permanent ink. “Want to make a bet as to what that frequency’s for?”

“No way.” I feel so stupid for ignoring the radio all this time. “I can’t believe I didn’t even notice that. Some cop I am.”

“Well, it’s useless anywhere but right over the site, but I’m glad you brought it with you.”

“Assuming that’s where the radio came from,” says George. “My gut says it is.”

“So, let’s take the Fool back there and have a look,” says Dad.

“We can’t,” I say. “Not with the Vader out there. They could be just beyond our line of sight, waiting for us to do exactly that.”

“And I can’t have you two diving while the Vader’s stalking you,” George says. “They might be waiting for that too.”

“I go down,” I reply. “Dad stays in the Zodiac and keeps an eye out for the Vader and watches the satellite radio in case you see it first.”

“I’m not letting you dive alone,” says Dad.

“I won’t be. We’ll still be on our radios. They’ll reach far enough for us to be in touch. I’ll keep you updated, and you’ll do the same if George sees the other ship.”

“And if something happens?”

“I surface.”

“If you can’t? Then what?” He sees that we’re about to get into a McPherson stubborn match. “We’ll take turns.”

“Agreed,” I say. “George, you still good keeping an eye on the Fool?”

“I’d rather be here than in your little dinghy. I’ll be ready to come to you if there’s a problem. Which right now may be more weather related than K-Group. Baker’s getting nastier. Could be a coastal evacuation. I’m not sure how much longer we can stay out here.”

“That depends on who’s at the helm,” says Dad.

“Tell that to the White Dolphin,” I murmur. That was a ship that sank on Dad before I was born.

“The Dolphin was already a wreck before she went down.” He eyes the interior of the Fool as we ride over a wave. “But be careful, George. The moment the storm starts hitting hard, let us know. We may need you.”





CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

MONSOON

The last thing I remember is Dad telling me to slow down. As soon as we were out of sight of the Fortune’s Fool, I gunned the outboard motor, the raft jumped across waves, and we were airborne as much as we were touching water.

There’s an optimum speed for crossing waves. That wasn’t it.

Right before Dad’s slow-down warning, a black wave twice as tall as the others crashed into the front of the boat and flipped us over. My head hit a tank, and everything went black.

“Sloan!” A hand slaps me across the cheek.

The cold air snaps me to attention. “Ouch!” I try to sit up in the rough seas, and my own dizziness knocks me back down.

The Zodiac is upright. Dad must have managed to flip it while I was out. No small feat, but he’s had plenty of experience.

His hands touch the back of my skull. “Ouch!” I shout as he hits a sore spot.

“Shut up. Hold on. Nothing fractured.” He studies his fingers for blood. “Not even a cut. I’m not surprised, with that thick head of yours.”

“Sorry?” I grab a strap to keep from getting rolled to the side in the crashing waves.

“We need to turn back,” he says.

“Back? I’m fine.”

He gives me a dumb look. “You probably have a concussion. You can’t dive.”

“I’m fine,” I insist.

“You’re an idiot. We’re going back to the Fool.”

“I’m fine, Dad. I mean, yeah, I got a knock, but I’m okay.” I force myself upright, fighting gravity and nausea. “Just give me a minute.”

I’m so busy arguing with him that I don’t understand why he’s staring at the dive pouch in the raft.

For a moment I think he’s the one with the concussion, and then I hear a beep.

Dad takes the receiver from the pouch and holds it to his ear. Twenty seconds later, there’s another beep.

“That’s it!” I shout. “We can’t go back now. The Vader could be anywhere out there.”

“That’s why we should go back,” Dad replies.

“No. I swear, if you turn this boat around, I’ll jump overboard.”

Dad taps the tanks strapped by his feet. “Without air?”

“I’ll free dive it,” I reply.

“A hundred feet?”

“I did it before.”

“Once, and you nearly drowned.”

“Then let me use the gear,” I insist.

“No . . .” Dad is thinking this over. Another beep cuts through the roaring wind. “I’ll go.”

I’m not exactly in a position to argue with him right now. He’s clearly in better condition to dive than I am. “Fine.”

“First we need to triangulate.” He hands me the radio. “I’ll drive, and you listen.”