just showed up in our space.” She was still smarting over the sword. “Dad spent months researching these wrecks. Why should we trust the Lassiters?”
“Because they’re Lassiters,” Ray said as he swung into the galley. Bending over, he planted a noisy kiss on the top of Tate’s head. “Our girl’s got a suspicious nature, Marla.” He winked at his wife, then because it was his turn for galley duty, began to set the table. “That’s a good thing, to a point. It’s not smart to believe everything you see, everything you hear. But sometimes you’ve got to go with the gut. Mine tells me the Lassiters are just what we need to round out this little adventure.”
“How?” Tate propped her chin on her fist. “Matthew Lassiter is arrogant and shortsighted and—”
“Young.” Ray finished with a twinkle in his eye. “Marla, that smells wonderful.” He slipped his arms around her waist and nuzzled the back of her neck. She smelled of suntan lotion and Chanel.
“Then let’s sit down and see how it tastes.”
But Tate wasn’t willing to let the matter drop. “Dad, do you know what he plans to do with that sword? He’s just going to sell it to some dealer.”
Ray sat and pursed his lips. “Most salvagers sell their booty, honey. That’s how they make a living.”
“Well, that’s fine.” Tate took the platter her mother offered automatically and chose her portion. “But it should be dated and assessed first. He doesn’t even care what it is or who it belonged to. To him it’s just something to trade for a case of beer.”
“That’s a shame.” Marla sighed as Ray poured dinner wine into her glass. “And I know how you feel, honey. The Tates have always been defenders of history.”
“And the Beaumonts,” her husband put in. “It’s the Southern way. You have a point, Tate.” Ray gestured with his fork. “And I sympathize. But I also understand Matthew’s side of it. The quick turnaround, the quick profit for his efforts. If his grandfather had taken that route, he’d have died a rich man. Instead, he chose to share his discovery and ended up with nothing.”
“There’s a middle ground,” Tate insisted.
“Not for some. But I believe Buck and I found it. If we find the Isabella or the Santa Marguerite, we’ll apply for a lease, if we’re not outside the limit. Regardless, we’llshare what we salvage with the government of Saint Kitts and Nevis, a term he agreed to reluctantly.” Ray lifted his glass, eyed the wine. “He agreed to it because we have something he needs.”
“What do we have?” Tate wanted to know.
“We have a strong enough financial base to continue this operation for some time with or without results. We can afford the time, as we agreed you could defer the upcoming fall semester. And if it becomes an issue, we can afford the equipment needed for an extensive salvage operation.”
“So, they’re using us.” Exasperated, Tate pushed her plate aside. “That’s my point, Dad.”
“In a partnership, one-half must have use of the other.”
Far from convinced, Tate rose to pour herself a glass of fresh lemonade. In theory, she wasn’t against partnership. From an early age, she’d been taught the value of teamwork. It was this specific team she worried over. “And what are they bringing into this partnership?”
“In the first place, they’re professionals. We’re amateurs.” Ray waved a hand as Tate started to protest. “However much I like to dream otherwise, I’ve never discovered a wreck, only explored those found and salvaged by others. Oh, we’ve been lucky a few times.” He picked up Marla’s hand, ran a thumb around the gold ring she wore. “Brought up trinkets others have overlooked. Since my first dive, I’ve dreamed of finding an undiscovered ship.”
“And you will,” Marla claimed with undiluted faith.
“This could be the one.” Tate dragged a hand through her hair. As much as she loved her parents, their lack of
“Because they’re Lassiters,” Ray said as he swung into the galley. Bending over, he planted a noisy kiss on the top of Tate’s head. “Our girl’s got a suspicious nature, Marla.” He winked at his wife, then because it was his turn for galley duty, began to set the table. “That’s a good thing, to a point. It’s not smart to believe everything you see, everything you hear. But sometimes you’ve got to go with the gut. Mine tells me the Lassiters are just what we need to round out this little adventure.”
“How?” Tate propped her chin on her fist. “Matthew Lassiter is arrogant and shortsighted and—”
“Young.” Ray finished with a twinkle in his eye. “Marla, that smells wonderful.” He slipped his arms around her waist and nuzzled the back of her neck. She smelled of suntan lotion and Chanel.
“Then let’s sit down and see how it tastes.”
But Tate wasn’t willing to let the matter drop. “Dad, do you know what he plans to do with that sword? He’s just going to sell it to some dealer.”
Ray sat and pursed his lips. “Most salvagers sell their booty, honey. That’s how they make a living.”
“Well, that’s fine.” Tate took the platter her mother offered automatically and chose her portion. “But it should be dated and assessed first. He doesn’t even care what it is or who it belonged to. To him it’s just something to trade for a case of beer.”
“That’s a shame.” Marla sighed as Ray poured dinner wine into her glass. “And I know how you feel, honey. The Tates have always been defenders of history.”
“And the Beaumonts,” her husband put in. “It’s the Southern way. You have a point, Tate.” Ray gestured with his fork. “And I sympathize. But I also understand Matthew’s side of it. The quick turnaround, the quick profit for his efforts. If his grandfather had taken that route, he’d have died a rich man. Instead, he chose to share his discovery and ended up with nothing.”
“There’s a middle ground,” Tate insisted.
“Not for some. But I believe Buck and I found it. If we find the Isabella or the Santa Marguerite, we’ll apply for a lease, if we’re not outside the limit. Regardless, we’llshare what we salvage with the government of Saint Kitts and Nevis, a term he agreed to reluctantly.” Ray lifted his glass, eyed the wine. “He agreed to it because we have something he needs.”
“What do we have?” Tate wanted to know.
“We have a strong enough financial base to continue this operation for some time with or without results. We can afford the time, as we agreed you could defer the upcoming fall semester. And if it becomes an issue, we can afford the equipment needed for an extensive salvage operation.”
“So, they’re using us.” Exasperated, Tate pushed her plate aside. “That’s my point, Dad.”
“In a partnership, one-half must have use of the other.”
Far from convinced, Tate rose to pour herself a glass of fresh lemonade. In theory, she wasn’t against partnership. From an early age, she’d been taught the value of teamwork. It was this specific team she worried over. “And what are they bringing into this partnership?”
“In the first place, they’re professionals. We’re amateurs.” Ray waved a hand as Tate started to protest. “However much I like to dream otherwise, I’ve never discovered a wreck, only explored those found and salvaged by others. Oh, we’ve been lucky a few times.” He picked up Marla’s hand, ran a thumb around the gold ring she wore. “Brought up trinkets others have overlooked. Since my first dive, I’ve dreamed of finding an undiscovered ship.”
“And you will,” Marla claimed with undiluted faith.
“This could be the one.” Tate dragged a hand through her hair. As much as she loved her parents, their lack of
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