Page 21 of Wild Tempest

That hung there for a moment.

“That’s not possible.”

“Owen may be confused,” I said. “But something happened out there.”

“What happens now? Will the Coast Guard keep looking?”

“The sheriff has notified them, and they are resuming search and rescue operations.”

She sighed. “I don’t expect much will come from it.”

“Why do you say that?”

“They couldn’t find them the first time they looked.”

“Try to stay positive,” I said. “Miracles happen.”

I didn’t want to give her false hope, but Owen had survived against all odds.

My optimism soured when the sheriff called the next morning with bad news.

13

"This is a homicide now," Sheriff Daniels said when he called. "I want you to find that boat and figure out what happened."

"Owen died?”

"Went into septic shock, fever spiked, organs shut down. At least that's what I'm told.”

"That’s surprising. I thought he was going to pull through.” I paused. "Any update on the search and rescue operation?”

"Coast Guard searched the area where Owen was discovered and the last known coordinates of their salvage ship, calculating for current and drift. There’s no sign of the Tempest or the Almaz Morya. At this point, I don't think they're going to stay at it long.”

“I talked to Owen’s sister and Paul’s wife.” I caught the sheriff up to speed.

“I think all this talk is the hallucinations of a dying man whose body was riddled with infection,” Daniels said with a sigh. “There is no Almaz Morya. It’s at the bottom of the ocean somewhere. The Tempest got in trouble in the storm and may be at the bottom with it.”

“Who shot Owen?” I said, spurring him on.

Daniels sighed. “It likely happened out of our jurisdiction anyway.”

“So, you just want to let it go,” I taunted.

After a long pause, he replied, “See what you can find.”

I grinned. “We’re on it.”

It was two days later when the Coast Guard officially suspended the SAR operation. At that time, I’d been doing my research on the Russian research vessel. The Almaz Morya had been in the Caribbean on a survey mission, mapping the sea floor, studying hydrothermal vents, methane seeps, and mineral nodules.

That was the official story.

More likely, the vessel was engaged in anti-submarine warfare, collecting acoustic profiles and mapping topography. Of course, there were all kinds of speculation on the Internet about its real mission. The keyboard warriors had developed wild theories about cargo holds full of gold. It was hard to say if Owen had really seen them. As Daniels had said, maybe it was just the hallucinations of a dying man.

Still, there was no shortage of people who set out to find the Almaz Morya. None of whom had ever returned, which only fueled the speculations and ghost stories. The thought had crossed my mind that the Morya wasn’t missing at all. Perhaps it was an elaborate stunt by the Russian government to throw off suspicion about the purpose of the ship. Maybe US Intel agencies were onto the real mission of the Morya, and the disappearance was a way to further confuse the issue. Maybe the Russians were laughing at the idiots chasing a ghost ship.

JD and I were eating breakfast on the sky deck when a gorgeous blonde walked down the dock and crossed the passerelle to the aft deck of the Avventura.

Buddy raced to the salon door and barked, the living doorbell.