Make Her Pay

“Nothing. Apparently he registered to give them scepters and promised they would include two of the most beautiful, rare, matching blue diamonds from India. But no such gift was ever received.”

Somehow, Bria

If Carlos Bettencourt paid for the scepters and Aramis Dare ran off with them, then history’s recounting that he was a blackhearted thief was correct. But if Carlos had refused to pay Aramis, as one letter Dad had uncovered said, then the scepters, when found, belonged to the Dare family.

Her heart hammered with hope. “So what happened to the scepters? Are you certain they were never given to the king and queen?”

“There is a list of wedding gifts in the archives of the Palace of Queluz, one of Portuguese royalty’s main residences. They are mentioned as promised by Carlos Bettencourt, but never delivered.”

“Did the historian you talked to know what happened to Carlos?”

“According to the family records, he traveled by ship to the Americas and never returned. His property on Corvo, however, has stayed in Bettencourt hands for over a hundred years, which isn’t unusual in the Azores. One family can stay in a house for many generations.”

Bingo. And would that family have any records she could study?

She had to find out. “Thank you, Maria. This, on top of the information you provided about my own ancestors, is so valuable.”

“Valuable indeed.” The other woman raised her eyebrows and waited.

“Oh, of course.” Bree reached into her bag and handed Maria the envelope, swallowing guilt. Lizzie would have paid that much, too. And Dad would have paid ten times the amount for the identity of the mysterious BC.

Bria

“Probably. There’s a main house and a windmill. Habitable, but very rural.”

“How do you get there?”

“A flight from Lisbon to Terceira, then I’m afraid just a very small plane can land on Corvo, which has a treacherous little airport.” She smiled. “It’s very windy on the archipelago of the Azores. Not for a faint flyer.”

“Good thing I’m not.” Bria

Maria tucked her envelope in her bag and stood. “The deed is in the name of an American named Jaeger Bettencourt, so it is hard to say who might actually be living there. It wouldn’t be unusual for a local family to rent it and run the farm for an American, or an Azorean family could live there. It could be abandoned, for all I know.”

With luck, there would be someone there. Maybe even a Bettencourt. And hopefully, they didn’t care about some ancient folklore and lost artifacts.

Bria

A few minutes before dawn, Lizzie slipped out of her bunk and tiptoed up to the main deck to coil up the air hose and hide the evidence of what they’d done. But someone had already put the deck back together.

Had Con done this? After they’d spent about an hour with Charlotte and Sam, certain his pains were heart-burn brought on by his weakness for Brady’s hot salsa, and not a heart attack, Lizzie had gone to bed. But not to sleep. And not with Con, which was a shame.

She walked over to the air compressor, which had been replaced in its normal position. Bending over, she put her finger on the valve to check-

“They’re back on.”

She spun around to see Con at the top of the stairs, a black T-shirt making him look even bigger and badder. “Did you do this?”

He shook his head. “I came up here about five minutes ago, and the place was neat as a pin. I was just checking the lab, which is still locked. The engineer and his assistant are awake, and Brady and Flo are cooking. The rest of the crew is still down.”

“Flo might have cleaned this up, although that-” she indicated the neatly coiled air hose-“has Divemaster Dave’s signature all over it.”

“Would the cook’s wife have noticed the air intakes were out and replaced them?” His look was as skeptical as his tone.

“Well, she’s responsible for housekeeping, but that doesn’t usually include the deck.” She blew out a troubled breath. “I need coffee, stat.”

In the main salon, Lizzie mentally flipped through every person on the boat who could have come up here and covered their tracks. The same way she’d flipped through everyone who might have tried to kill one of them last night.

And why?

Could someone know she had the diamond? The need to get it off the boat burned hotter than ever.

“I still think Dave came up here earlier and cleaned up,” she said softly to Con as they walked toward the galley buffet table. “He’s a hound about recoiling the air hoses.”

“And checking the air intake?”

“Of course. That’s his job. Maybe-”

She stopped as Brady came around the buffet with a steaming pot of coffee.

“Mornin’, Lizzie. Con.”

“Hi, Brady,” she said. “Are we your first customers this morning?” Maybe the cook could give them some insight.

“So far.” He set the pot on the warming pad and flipped two mugs down from the shelf for them. “You’re not diving this morning, Lizzie, so how ’bout I make you some Sunday morning pancakes?”

“You’re too good to me, Brady.”

“I’ll take some, too.” Fly

“I’ll go with you to the mainland, Fly

“To see your sister?” Fly

“Fly

It wasn’t ideal; she’d pla

“You’re going through the Sebastian Inlet, right?”

He nodded. “There’s no time to get up to the port and back.”

“Vero’s just twenty minutes away from the inlet. I’ll be back at the boat before you’re back from the lab. I promise.”

He shook his head. “I don’t know, Lizzie. That’s a rough ride through the inlet-even I wouldn’t attempt it after sundown. If you get stuck in Vero, I can’t wait for you, and God knows how long it could be till you get back to this boat. I don’t think so.”

She hated having to beg this son of a bitch for anything. “Fly

“I’ll go with you,” Con said.

Fly

“I’ll keep her on schedule, but more important, I can help you navigate the inlet. I know it well, even in the dark. You should have a second pair of hands on board going through that place, anyway.”

Lizzie swallowed her arguments. What was she, no hands? She didn’t really want him to come, but if it got Fly

Fly

“I’ve got that covered,” Con said.

“Great,” she replied. Maybe. She got what she wanted, but would Con call every shot? “Then I’ll get my stuff together and pass on breakfast, Brady. I’ll meet you up here in twenty minutes or so.”