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I turned toward the cabin, half expecting stacks of drug packages piled up on crates, similar to what we found in that drug den in the everglades.
Indiana was at the far end of the wreck’s belly, and she was trying to pull something out of a gap near where the wings had been.
Pushing off the pilot seat, I swam to her.
At her side, I lowered down for a closer look. Wedged between the twisted wreckage was a metal briefcase.
We both gripped a corner and tugged, but it was like it was trapped in a stubborn clam.
Working together, I pried the twisted metal away, and Indiana gradually wriggled the case free. It released with a teeth-clenching squeal, and she turned it over to the handle side. Two locks with both key and tumbler pin codes sealed the case shut. Indiana reached for the locks.
“No,” I screamed through my breather.
Her hands shot back.
I waggled my fingers at her and moved my hands in what I hoped represented an explosion.
She nodded, and as she drifted back, her light beam intersected mine on the case.
I had a feeling someone believed the contents of this case were worth killing for. Yet why it was still here was baffling. Maybe the plane plummeted before the killer had a chance to grab the case. Or maybe the pilot managed to get away after he was shot, and midflight, he succumbed to his bullet wound.
Indiana hand-signed boat, and I gripped the case handle and followed her out of the wreck.
Bubbles danced past my mask, racing skyward as though they could taste freedom. The sunlight that had twinkled above on our descent was much more muted now.
As Indiana and I swam side by side in silence, my mind raced over the possibilities of what was inside the case.
Was it linked to Chui?
Was this seaplane listed as missing?
Who was the dead pilot?
And who the fuck murdered him?
We leveled off at eighteen feet for our compulsory decompression stop, and my dive computer beeped its approval of my pause in the ascent. An extreme silence enveloped me. It was like a lovely soft cushion had been draped over my ears.
Gripping onto Rhino’s anchor, I shared my gaze between the beauty around me: the deep blue that stretched forever, the shimmering surface, and the colorful fish that came to check us out. But it was Indiana who took my breath away. Coppery strands of her hair that had escaped her loose braid danced around her face like they were having a party. Her arms gracefully moved side to side as she kept herself in position. Her wetsuit molded to the curves of her amazing breasts in a way that I should not be noticing.
It was hard not to notice this woman.
But I needed to stop.
With our ascent suspended, and our bubbles reaching for the surface in silver strings, I examined the case. Deep striations scraped across the widest plains of the case, which I imagined happened during the impact with the ocean when it wedged so tightly into the metal. The barrels with the rusty code numbers didn’t have a pattern to them, yet I doubted they were in the open position. There wasn’t a single marking on the case to indicate who owned it, and there was little chance we would be able to pull fingerprints from the metal after being submerged for so long.
Indiana tapped my arm, indicating it was time to surface, and I pumped air into my vest and gradually glided up to fresh air.
Ten feet from fresh air, a beeping noise pierced the serenity.
I glared at the case. The beeping came from inside.
What the fuck is that?
CHAPTER 15
Indiana
After we surfaced, we shoved everything onto the dive deck and climbed onboard. The beeping from the case was like a deadly countdown. My heart matched its rhythm.
