He’s flirting. I’m in the middle of the most important assignment of what passes for my life, and he’shittingon me.
I was both appalled and intrigued. What must he be like on normal days? On nights not spent poking around in the back of a downed cargo plane or rescuing his sister from a cannibalistic group of goblins?
“The bands I listen to are collecting social security checks these days, instead of touring. And Idon’tneed a night off. I need you to tell me what thefuckis going on with Devich and the goblins. And this plane. And what any of that has to do with your sister.”
“So, you like the oldies? Like what? The nineties?”
I didn’t know whether to laugh or scream. He was infuriating, yet undeniably entertaining. “Yes. And eighties hair bands. Satisfied?”
He nodded graciously, showing no sign that he wanted to laugh at me or at my taste in music. Bonus points for Cale Murphy.
“My turn. What are you doing in Devich’s plane?”
“Math.” He pointed at something on my left, and I grabbed the flashlight, swinging the beam in the direction he’d indicated. The light settled on a scuffed black backpack, an unlit canister-shaped flashlight, an open spiral-bound notebook, and a pencil, all on the floor behind an overturned toolbox near the far wall. Which I hadn’t noticed on my once-over of the plane.
“I was doing calculations,” he continued in response to my confused look. “Based on the coordinates of the crash site and the plane’s trajectory.”
Frowning, I stomped across ten feet of embedded metal tracks and snatched the notebook from the floor, tilting the flashlight beam so I could read the contents. It was open to a page near the middle, covered in numbers, straight lines, angles, and a simple, but obviously skilled, sketch of an airplane. In one corner was what appeared to be an island, surrounded by squiggly lines representing water. Another broad, straight line traced the plane’s flight path from Oak Island to the crash site. But he already had the coordinates for both locations, so what could he possibly be calculating?
“What is this?” Irritated, I aimed the light directly at him. “You’re looking for the cargo?”
“Wait your turn.” Shielding his eyes with one hand, he drained the bottle and set it on the floor, standing to face me.
“Murphy, I don’t have time for games.”
He crossed the fuselage in several long strides and was in my face before I could step back. “This wasyouridea.” He pulled the flashlight from my grip and returned to his seat. “And it’s my turn.”
I rolled my eyes and snatched his much bigger flashlight from the floor. “Let me see if I can speed this process up a bit. Twinkies are my favorite food, whiskey my drink of choice, and I don’t have a favorite color, though black comes damn close. Now you owe me three answers.”
Murphy grinned. “Good to know, but I wasn’t going to ask any of that. When’s your birthday?”
“This is ridiculous!” I groaned.
“Then answer the question, so we can move on.”
I had to force my jaw to unclench in order to answer. “April first.”1757.
“Aries. I should have known.”
At least he hadn’t made an April Fool’s joke. “Whatever.” I held up the notebook, shining the beam from his flashlight on it. “You’re looking for the missing cargo, right? Why? And does that mean the goblins were actually looking foryouwhen they showed up on Oak Island?”
He tensed, swinging his light in my direction. “You went to the island?” His voice was thick with confusion. “Where are the goblins now?”
“Dead. Rotting at the bottom of the pit. Fitting, don’t you think?”
Murphy lowered his arm, and the beam of light fell from my eyes, leaving me blinking in relief. “Dead? All three?” He smiled. “Well, I guess I should thank you.”
“Don’t bother. I didn’t do it for you. They showed up, aiming guns at me, and I had no choice. At first, I thought they were after their dog, but then Orthus turned up, and they still wanted information, so they must have been after someone else. You, I assume?”
“Almost certainly,” he said. “Devich doesn’t accept failure, so they probably hired healers when we left them alive but bleeding, then they followed you, looking for me, under the assumption we were working together, because we rescued Cari together.”
Irescued Cari. But that was a point to be made another time.
Why would Devich send me after the box, but send the goblins after Cale? How was Murphy involved with the pit, the plane, and the box? Unless…
Sudden comprehension hit me like a slap across the cheek, leaving me angry and red-faced. “You’re Murdock, the deep-sea diver.”
Murphy blinked at me. “How the hell did you…?”
