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“I miss him,” Adriana said quietly. “It’s weird being at Poseidon. I keep
expecting to walk around a corner, and there he’ll be.”
There was a melancholy silence.
Star finished her lunch. “Well, I appreciate you guys coming by. Hey,
where’s Kaz?”
Menasce Gérard loaded the last of the tanks onto the deck of the Francisco
Pizarro and hopped on board. He checked the labels again. Deep diving with
scuba gear was a complicated affair. Several different breathing gas mixtures
were required, and the slightest error would scrap the dive. Alors, this was the
last realistic chance to find the captain’s body. So one checked, and checked
again.
Captain Janet Torrington looked down from her position in the Pizarro’s
wheelhouse. “All set, English?”
Before he could reply, running footsteps sounded on the dock, and a frantic
voice called, “Hey! Wait up!” Kaz pounded onto the scene, his dive bag
bouncing wildly against his shoulder.
He leaped aboard. “I’m going with you!”
English was furious. “You! You are going nowhere! Get off the boat, or I
throw you off!”
“Captain Vanover was my friend, too!” Kaz exclaimed.
“Vraiment? Is this so? Then I wish he chooses his friends more carefully!
Do you American teenagers think this is some Hollywood scenario, and you are
John Wayne leading the pony soldiers? This is not an adventure, silly child! And
when you return to your shopping malls and MTV, Braden will still be dead!”
Kaz matched him glare for glare, and said the only thing that came to his
mind: “I’m Canadian.”
“Je m’excuse if I do not stamp your passport!”
“Look, you need me,” Kaz argued. “I was there when the captain died. I
might recognize something.”
“Such as what, monsieur? That there was the water all around, and it was
very deep? Pah!” The guide dismissed this with a sweep of his hand. “This
detective work I do not need.”
*