Deep Blue Death by Sharyn Bradford Lunn

Author:Sharyn Bradford Lunn
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: thewordverve

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Back in the Seaclaim, there was a flurry of activity as Jack Howard, Captain Appleby, and the authorities were notified of the Blue Dolphin’s sinking and Gail Brennan’s body being discovered in the hull. Jami was hauled off so her ankle could be examined by Ted Ivers, the medical purser. He concluded there were no bones broken, redressed the wound, and applied a fresh supportive bandage before jabbing her with a dose of antibiotic along with a tetanus booster, despite Jami’s insistence she was covered. Since she had no proof of when she’d had her last tetanus shot, he decided it was better to be safe than sorry. By the end of it all, Jami left the infirmary on crutches, arguing that they were entirely unnecessary, unheeded by the ever-so-meticulous Mr. Ivers.

Not long afterward, a Border Force vessel soon pulled alongside and Jami and Cole were questioned, asked to provide statements and the exact location of the sunken cabin cruiser. When it was all over, a physically and mentally exhausted Jami retreated to the sanctity of her cabin.

She worried that they might become suspects in Gail’s murder due to their impromptu trip over to One Reef Island. Everyone knew whoever finds a body automatically becomes a suspect. Jami consoled herself with the knowledge the trip wasn’t entirely impromptu—Cole had planned it the previous day—and neither of them had a motive for wanting Gail dead.

Lying on her bunk, her mind too active to sleep, despite her weary body demanding otherwise, Jami mulled over the day’s events, her thoughts focused on the possible identity of the person, or persons, who were stealing Zuytwyck artifacts. Joshua Meadows and Gail Brennen knew something, enough to make whoever it was want them out of the picture; otherwise, why had they ended up like they had?

Certainly, given the bullet hole in Gail’s forehead, her death was not an accident. Jami pushed the image of the poor woman—strands of long red hair floating around her blank, staring eyes—from her mind, bringing her attention back to her possible killer.

Jami listed off the suspects in her mind. There were six divers. First there was Wayne Morgan, the most experienced diver aside from Cole, whom she couldn’t see being involved. He’d been diving on wrecks for years and was so well-respected it seemed to preclude him from being involved with anything underhanded. Then there was Sam Richardson, the most junior diver, who probably hadn’t been around long enough to get himself caught up in any black-market scheme.

In between those two were Kenny Collins, Dave Prospect, Nolan Roberts, Brian Bonner, and John Scali. The latter, being Gail’s latest boyfriend—a shipboard romance, perhaps—seemed like an unlikely culprit at first glance, but they had been arguing when she’d interrupted them on her first day in the conservation area. The other three she didn’t know well enough to have an opinion, so any one of them could be a suspect.

Jami knew Ken Collins and Dave Prospect were diving buddies, as were Nolan Roberts

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