Second Chance Gold (Buck Reilly Adventure Series Book 4) John Cunningham (the rosie project TXT) 📖

Tears were streaming down Nicole’s cheeks. I pulled over to the side of the road, got out of the Jeep, and walked over to her side to open the door. She leaned into me when I reached for her, falling into my arms as I lifted her out of the passenger seat and held her close. Her chest heaved again and again, her wet cheeks were pressed against my face. She wrapped her arms tightly around me, then pushed back to look into my eyes.

Then she pulled a strand of sandy blond hair off her face and shook her head. I fought the urge to lean down and kiss her.

“I’m scared.” Her admission brought more shudders.

She pulled me back tight and I held her close. When her whuffling slowed, I put my mouth close to her ear.

“Stay with me and Truck at La Banane?”

She leaned back to gauge my statement but I held my expression at concern, even though my heart ricocheted from holding her so close. Nicole was strong, capable, smart, and attractive in an unintentional sort of way—the complete opposite of my supermodel ex-wife. Something I sensed in her touched my heart.

She nodded but let go.

“We’ll see, Buck. We’ll see.”

Truck was convalescing in bed when we entered the room. He looked a little more like himself and not quite so pissed off.

“Where the hell you—oh, that Nicole?”

She sat on the side of his bed and took a good look at him.

“How are you feeling?”

He ran his left palm across the top of his head, his right arm still in the sling. “I been better. Fact, let me give you some advice, stay away from this guy.” He nodded in my direction. “He’s cursed.”

Nicole glanced back at me.

“Too late,” I said. We then filled Truck in on our encounter with the Gamundi brothers, their information, the reality that they wouldn’t be backing off until they ran out of options, found their prize, or the gendarmes captured them as a result of Nicole’s call.

“Buck saved the day?” He smiled at Nicole.

“Team effort,” I said.

Nicole shrugged. “You live alone long enough, people know who you are. I’ve learned to defend myself.”

“I hope you fucked ‘em up good,” Truck said. “Man, just look what they did to me—in my sleep!”

“I’d guess one of ‘em’ll be peeing blood for a while, at least.” I nodded toward Nicole.

Truck puckered his lips and whistled. Then smiled at us.

“You want me to leave y’all alone here? My British friends’ll be waiting—”

“That’s okay.” I glanced at Nicole. “But you can have my bed tonight if—”

“That’s not necessary. Jean, the proprietor, is a friend. I’ll get another room.” Her eyes caught mine and held for a moment.

“Truck,” I said, “you feel up to joining me on some exploration?”

“Me?” Truck said. “Not really, cuz, these painkillers make me loopy. Sorry, man. I know you brought me down here to help—”

“Not your fault.”

“I will go,” Nicole said.

“On an antique flying boat?”

She raised an eyebrow. “I’m Remy de Haenen’s granddaughter, remember? I have flown on my share of old planes.”

An idea sprang to mind. “How about sailboats or Jet Skis?”

“I have done anything you can imagine under or on top of the water.”

She might have underestimated my imagination—I shook that thought off.

“Jerry’s Jet Ski was found near Anse de Cayes,” I said. “What are the currents like in that area?”

“They can be strong—”

“I mean which direction do they flow?”

“That’s a tricky area—a confluence of currents and riptides.” She paused and her eyes lost focus for a moment. “But I’d say the prevailing currents come from the east.”

We left Truck to convalesce and drove to the private aviation area at the airport. I was relieved Betty wasn’t there, but then scowled. Booth’s offer for immunity would be revoked the moment he received Jack’s package. I glanced at Nicole.

God knows what Jack had told her.

The sinking feeling turned my stomach. I checked the cell phone. No messages or texts. Would Booth call to gloat? Or would he just come straight down to arrest me?

I needed a breakthrough.

We lit out over the beach at St. Jean, drawing pointed fingers and wide-eyed stares from onlookers.

“I love the view of Eden Rock as you first take off,” Nicole said. “I often wonder what it would look like now if my grandfather never sold it.” Was that a painful thought or a pensive one? It was hard to see something you’d loved dearly in the hands of others, now better off than before.

Now that we were pressed together in the Beast’s flight deck, I decided it was time to get to the bottom of Nicole de Haenen.

“What’s your motivation in all this?” I said.

She looked straight ahead. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“I know you went to the Eden Rock the other day to look for information.”

“It is not about treasure—though I could use the money.”

“Then why are you in the middle of this mess?”

She paused. I glanced over and saw her chewing the side of her mouth.

“My family’s legacy,” she finally said. “My grandfather’s history is interwoven with almost every part of St. Barths. Most of my family is gone, so I feel like … how do I put it … like the curator of our heritage.” She studied my face. “Does that make sense?”

I thought of my father’s career at the State Department, his legacy of government service and diplomacy besmirched by my failure, and his death in Switzerland after getting a numbered account where he hid the maps I’d given him.

“Makes all the sense in the world,” I said.

She smiled. “What are we looking for out here?”

“I’m not really sure, but I wanted to fly around near Anse de Cayes to see what it looks like from the air, try to visualize Jerry’s course when he was on the Jet Ski.” I thought of his paintings—I’d have my eyes open for an oval shaped island with a big rock pile. Could the Dominicans really