Emerald Fire. Monica McCabe

arrived and, despite her near overwhelming worry, Chloe’s stomach growled at the mouth-watering plate of blackened jackfish and Cajun fries set in front her. She’d had nothing since airport coffee and a stale donut early this morning, and the spicy aroma pulled her in. She grabbed a seasoned fry and stuffed it in her mouth.

      Finn pushed his laptop to the side but continued his scrolling while he ate. He plowed through his plate of food and sat back, looking over his notes. “I doubt Guadeloupe is their destination. It’s fairly clean as far as piracy reports go. The heavy hitters are Haiti, Jamaica, and Puerto Rico.”

      “Surely the bad guys wouldn’t travel that far north,” she replied.

      “Pirates, Chloe. There’s no other word for them.” He snagged one of her fries.

      Her enthusiasm for the remaining jackfish suddenly waned, and she sat back in her canvas chair. It was time for a hard and fast decision. In for a penny, in for a pound her uncle had always said. Besides, she really had no other choice. She had to trust Finnegan Kane, whether she wanted to or not. But she’d do it in baby steps.

      She leaned forward, elbows on the table. “What if I said I had another chance to zero in on the Fire?”

      He frowned. “I’d say why the hell haven’t you mentioned it by now?”

      “And I’d say because you haven’t agreed to team up with me.”

      He put a hand to the back of his neck and rolled his head. He didn’t want a partner, she knew that, but she also knew he wouldn’t pass on a chance to make that astronomical bounty either. He’d already lost this battle.

      “How about you tell me what you’ve got, and I’ll tell you if it’s worth taking on a persistent pain like you.”

      “How sweet.” She pointed to his laptop. “Pull up SafeSail’s website.”

      He popped another of her fries into in his mouth and tapped on the keyboard. The home page for the security company filled the screen.

      “Go to the page marked GPS hybrid systems.”

      Once displayed on the screen, she pointed to the system her uncle had recently installed. “This is on the Fire.”

      Finn scanned the page. “State of the art GPS…yada…yada…hidden back-up that can be activated via satellite transmission despite the main system being disabled by thieves.” His eyes shot to hers.

      God love modern technology. She just got a partner.

      Chapter 3

      Finn couldn’t believe it. She’d been sitting on a gold mine all this time. Half of him wanted to strangle her for withholding something so critical, the other half wanted to kiss her soundly for handing him that ten-percent bounty.

      “How do you activate it?” he asked her.

      “A phone call. I’m on the approved list and have the passcode.”

      Bloody hell. They’d known each other an hour and a half now, plenty long enough for this kind of confession. What was she waiting for?

      He glanced at the sneak system on the webpage. Timing would be crucial. Activate too soon, and they’d tip their hand. Too late, and they’d lose the yacht all together. He deliberated about a minute before he picked up his cell phone and dialed the number.

      He handed her the phone. “Ask if the system stays on or only activated long enough to get the location. And tell them to send the coordinates to my email address.”

      She hesitated only slightly before taking the phone, but it was enough to reveal that she still didn’t trust him. Too bad. She wanted a partner, and now she had one. At least until they pinpointed the yacht.

      He jotted down the email address for her while she spoke to SafeSail, then he shot a quick email to Sam Brady, his boss at Boston Marine. He’d insisted on frequent updates during this recovery. Not totally unusual, but Finn sensed a stress factor that went beyond the standard urgency. This one was personal, but his boss wasn’t talking.

      A few minutes later, she disconnected and handed his phone back. “They’re initiating the system and it stays on. They’ve also put the Fire on the priority list and will contact us immediately if she moves. We’ll have a current location in a few minutes.”

      “Excellent.” He hailed the waitress for their tab. “We’ll need to move fast. Have you checked into a hotel?”

      “No, and my suitcase is in the Hi-C Orange Jeep.”

      He shook his head. “No suitcases. We need to travel light. We’ll get you a duffle bag and ship the rest back home.”

      She frowned at that bit of news, but if she wanted to play the game, she’d agree to his terms. “The rentals will need to be returned,” he plowed on. “We’ll take care of that separately to save time. I’ll hit the airport and book us the first flight to destination unknown.”

      “No.”

      He lifted a brow in response. “No?”

      “We aren’t separating.” Her chin took on a stubborn tilt. “You’ll have the Fire’s location and nothing to stop you from leaving without me.”

      “It’s what I should do,” he scoffed. “A hell-bent librarian is no match for ruthless yacht thieves, even if you’re crazy enough to try.”

      She started to sputter, and he raised a hand to stop whatever argument she planned. “Don’t worry. I’ve only just met you and already know you’re fool enough to follow me. There’s too much money at stake to have you foul up my chances. I’m keeping you in sight. But first we take care of business. And fast.”

      She leaned back in her chair with a glacial stare and arms crossed. “I’m a historian, not a librarian. You tend to be blunt, don’t you?” she said.

      “If the situation calls for it.”

      “So does this mean we’re a team?” she inquired.

      “For now.”

      She put out her hand. “Shake on it.”

      He eyed her outstretched hand and frowned. A Kane’s word was his bond, something his dad drilled into him since he was old enough to crawl. If he shook, he as good as agreed to carry her along. “You have to promise me something first.”

      Her hand lowered to the table. “What?”

      “I’m the experienced one in this field. I know what we’re up against. To keep us both safe, I need to know that when I say jump, you’ll listen.”

      She narrowed her eyes.

      “It can mean the difference of life or death,” he intoned.

      “How melodramatic,” she replied. “For the record, I’m no powder puff. I’ve handled tough situations before.”

      “That’s a little hard to believe coming from someone in pearls and pink nail polish.”

      A finely arched brow lifted. “Aren’t good investigators trained to look beyond the surface?”

      “Since we’re in a hurry, how about you save us some time and tell me what exactly you’re capable of?”

      She tapped her fingers on the concrete picnic table. “Well, for starters, I can tie a slip knot, fire a gun, and I hold the trophy in my kickboxing class.”

      Helpful skills, but hardly an endorsement for tactical maneuvers. “Can you assess threat levels, evaluate counter measures, and predict targets?”

      “I do it all the time. It’s called provenance and accessioning.”

      “So if we need to storm a museum, you’ve got the lead. Retrieving a stolen yacht falls into my territory.”

      “So