Page 379 of The Romance Adventure

Instead, he tosses the key into the air and catches it. “We should wait and do this with the others. After all, I’d have never found it without them. And you.” CJ catches my greedy-eyed gaze and I soften my eyes.

“What are wives for?” I say vaguely.

In a pirate voice, CJ says, “Aye, nothing like finding booty with me beauty.”

I can’t help but laugh as he slips his hand in mine and takes the chest under his other arm. I’m surprised he’s bringing it out of the house, but I’ve gathered there are several secure safes at the Driftwood, so perhaps it’s best stored there.

Swept into the hunt with the McGregors, it’s easy to forget who I am and what I do. For once, it’s nice to have a family that does things like go all out for holidays. I’ve spent more Christmases alone or working than with anyone I love. In recent years, Halloween has all but been forgotten.

When we arrive at the Driftwood, smoke machines flank the gate of the resort and faux spider webs glisten in purple light. A man dressed as a hunched crypt-keeper lets us through.

On the way to the parking lot, we pass a haunted graveyard, a spooky pumpkin patch, and ghostly holograms swoop along the walls of the main building, the Brig.

Lanterns and glowing flamingo skeletons line the path. I shiver a little, but only because it’s cold for an October night in the Keys.

CJ wraps his arm around my back and grips my shoulder as we walk up the steps, bordered by dripping candles. A sign reads Enter if ye dare.

Only, when we get to the ballroom, it’s considerably less eerie with music playing, kids racing around, probably jacked up on candy, and loads of themed foods on a variety of tables, including witch finger pretzel sticks, ghostly cupcakes, Franken-guac with dark blue corn chips for hair, and cake pop eyeballs.

Everyone dressed as pirates, we meet the rest of the crew.

Wielding a plastic sword, Isla greets us with an, “Argh.”

Then everyone choruses, “Argh.”

“Avast, me hearties, come enjoy some libations and liberty as we sail the seven seas,” Isla gestures toward the snacks.

Magnus says, “Next year, let’s have a Bros and Boos party with the dogs in costume.”

“I think you’ll have some competition,” Ryan says, gesturing around.

Harley taps her chin. “We could join forces. Have a Halloween Hop where visitors go from the cottages, where you can have a dog parade with them in costume, stop by the Plundering Pelican for some pirate fun, and we could do something at the Sip & Scoop before people come up here to the resort for the grand finale fiesta.”

Isla bounces on her toes. “I love that idea.”

“Go team,” Ryan says.

“Speaking of teamwork, what happened earlier today?” Royal asks.

My jaw lowers slightly. I can’t believe that neither CJ nor Magnus has told them.

Lifting the treasure chest, CJ says in a pirate voice, “It was a close call, but victory was ours.”

All eyes land on the treasure chest.

“That’s not a Halloween prop, is it?” Isla asks.

CJ shakes his head. “Let’s put it in the safe. Then, when things wind down, I suggest we have a look-see.”

The brothers, except Magnus, disappear with the chest. I imagine he stays back as security detail in case our pursuers from earlier crash the party.

Lally tells Isla and Harley about locating the spot indicated on the map at Land’s End, CJ diving and finding the Crimson Tide, and coming up with the chest. She leaves out the part about how we were pursued by a slick black speedboat. I glance at Magnus, wondering if it was under his advice that she kept that part to herself.

They talk about how close we are to the crown, but this begs the question. Then what? I know what I intend to do with it, but what are they going to do? Put it on display here at the Driftwood? Give it to Lorena? I could ask Magnus, but he and Lally continue to answer questions about CJ’s dive.

I imagine he relays the same story to his brothers, but possibly includes the part about the boat chase.

Every bone in my intelligence officer body wants to follow them, to find out where they stash the chest, and much like when I was a guest at Sir Kent Von Dräger’s fete, make away with the goods.