"Did you guys know we can actually trace where an SOS comes from now?” Trent asked.
“Really?” Nash asked.
Trent nodded. “Yep, an SOS is trackable.”
“That’s cool,” Nash commented.
“Radio check.” Marshall’s voice crackled through the comm system from Trent’s boat. “Stone Cutter, do you copy?”
“Stone Cutterhere,” Trey responded. “Reading you loud and clear,Liberty.”
She laughed. “That’s the name of your boat?”
Trent grinned. “Of course, I had to name it after Liberty.”
As the boats pulled away from the marina, Amy watched Bird Island move closer to them. She’d studied the nautical chartsuntil she could draw them from memory, but seeing the island in person sent a thrill of anticipation through her.
The crossing took roughly thirty minutes. By the time they reached the island’s protected cove, the sun was fully up. Amy helped Nash and the others unload diving gear while Trey maneuvered theStone Cutterinto position over the underwater cave system.
“Alright, let’s get this sonar system running,” Trent said, settling beside Amy at the control station. His fingers moved expertly across the dials and switches. “See this frequency setting? We’ll start here, then adjust based on what we’re seeing.”
The screens came alive with ghostly images of the seafloor, revealing the complex network of passages that honeycombed the island’s foundation. Amy watched in fascination as Trent fine-tuned the display. “That’s incredible,” she breathed, watching the three-dimensional map build itself in real-time. “These caves go much deeper than your original surveys showed.”
“Exactly what I was thinking,” Trent agreed, pointing to a section of the display. “Look at this formation here—it’s much more extensive than we mapped before.”
Nash leaned over Amy’s shoulder to study the display, and Amy’s pulse quickened at his proximity. Even focused on treasure hunting, she was hyperaware of his every movement.
“There,” Trent said, indicating where the caves seemed to widen into a larger chamber. “That looks like it could be significant.”
“Coordinates?” Marshall asked through the radio.
Amy read off the numbers with Trent’s guidance, watching as Trent’s boat moved into position.
The divers suited up with practiced efficiency—Nash, Trey, Marshall, and Hunter would make the first descent while the others maintained watch from the boats and island.
Porter and Colt had positioned themselves at strategic lookout points on Bird Island’s rocky cliffs, while Blaze monitored the marine radio from the Liberty. Chance, in his sheriff’s capacity, coordinated with Brooks on surveillance patterns.
Cheyenne stayed with the Stone family wives on the protected side of the island, ready to help with communications if needed.
“Stay in constant radio contact,” Brooks instructed from his position at the island’s high point, flanked by Porter and Colt, who scanned the horizon with military precision. “Any sign of trouble, you surface immediately.”
Nash approached Amy before putting on his mask. “Keep monitoring that sonar. If you see anything unusual—anything at all—you radio us immediately.”
“I will.” Amy reached out to adjust his diving mask, the gesture more intimate than she’d intended. “Be careful down there. Are you sure you should do this?”
Nash waggled his eyebrows. “Diving is an obsessive hobby of mine.”
“Okay. I guess there’s a lot I don’t know about you.”
He leaned in and kissed her. “And now we get to spend the rest of our lives learning about each other.”
Amy was surprised by his admission.
He seemed to realize what he’d done. “I mean …” He blushed. “If you want. I mean?—”
She cut him off by kissing him, her heart racing. “Shh. Yes, we will.”
He beamed at her. “Phew. I know we haven’t talked about that.”
