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lived longer…
    She let that thought drift away. She doubted that anything would have changed if Joe had lived longer. They might have had more children eventually, but he’d still be fun-loving Joe, the boy who didn’t want to grow up. She’d still love him, of course. It was impossible not to. But she had no doubts that he’d still be searching for treasure, he’d still be obsessed with pirates, and he’d still be spending money as if they’d had it to burn.
    She collapsed against the eighteen-foot sailboat that Joe never should have bought, and gazed at the storm-ravaged island—one more of Joe’s impractical and expensive whims.
    Joe was a doting father, a decorated cop, but he’d spent a portion of every paycheck buying things they didn’t need, like the crossed swords he’d hung over the mantel in the living room, the eighteenth-century pistols he polished monthly and kept in a locked cabinet in his office, and the leather chest that rested at the end of their bed. It had once held a bounty of pirate treasure, or so Joe had told her. “We can’t afford it,” was all she had said, but he’d only laughed. “There’s always money if you want something badly enough.”
    She remembered so well the call from the antique store the day after Joe’s funeral. “We’re sorry to bother you, Mrs. Cameron, but Joe was here the other night. He bought a trunk and said he’d pick it up later. We’d like you to have it. We’d like you to have the money back, too. It’s the least we could do, considering….”
    Joe had wanted that trunk so badly it had cost him his life. Now, instead of giving him pleasure, it held some of the things Kate treasured most—the uniforms Joe would never wear again, his medal for bravery, and the badge he’d honored.
    If Joe had listened to her when she’d said they couldn’t afford it, he wouldn’t have been in the antique store. He wouldn’t have walked outside just in time to see the kid robbing the convenience store. He wouldn’t have been blown away by a sawed-off shotgun.
    And Nikki wouldn’t have suffered so much remorse for emptying an entire barrel into the chest of the seventeen-year-old boy who’d murdered her brother.
    Kate had forgotten all about the treasure after that night. She had a daughter to support, a home to take care of, and fanciful thoughts about pirates and buried treasure were the last thing on her mind.
    But last night Joe had come to her in a dream. He’d told her to go to the island. “The treasure’s there. I know it, Kate. Please, baby. Go and find it.”
    She’d listened to him because even in sleep,she’d seen the sparkle in his eyes, and it brought back so many memories, like the way his face had beamed the first time they’d sailed to the island. “Black Heart used to live here,” he’d said, speaking the pirate’s name almost reverently. “Remember me telling you about him? He disappeared in a freak summer storm.”
    Kate laughed, wondering if that freak summer storm had been anything like the one she and Casey had just survived.
    â€œWhat are you thinking about, Mommy?”
    Casey’s voice brought Kate back to the present, and she turned to the little girl who was a dreamer—just like her dad. “I was thinking how much your father would have enjoyed this adventure.”
    â€œHe wouldn’t have wasted so much time trying to get the boat back into the water when he could have been spending time with a pirate.”
    â€œNo, I suppose he wouldn’t. In fact, I don’t want to spend any more time worrying about the boat, either.”
    â€œThen can we look for the pirate?”
    Casey’s eyes brightened when Kate nodded.
    This would be the third imaginary pirate in her life. The first one she’d named Mr. Bones, the second she had called