Treasure Tides

Chapter THREE Royce’s arms wrapped around her like steal bands. His hands trailed softly down her back, following the line of her spine.

“Don’t cry,” he lifted his lips long enough to whisper, and then his lips were firmly planted on hers once again. Instinctively she burrowed closer, her arms finding their way around his waist. Momentarily forgetting that they were in a public garden, he allowed one hand to venture lower as he pressed her more tightly against him.

Becki gradually surfaced. Her anger pushing its way past the pleasure of being wrapped in Royce’s arms gave her the strength to wrench her lips from his.

“Stop manhandling me,” she snarled. “I thought you were leaving town? Gee, I must have misunderstood what you said,” she mocked, grabbing his hands to move them from her ass. “I must admit though, I was somewhat surprised to see you here. I thought for a minute that--” she stopped abruptly.

Royce had allowed her to reposition his hands more appropriately at her waist, but he was not willing to let her go entirely. Not until-- well-at least not right now.

“You thought--” he prompted, continuing to nibble at her neck; trailing kisses from her ear, to her shoulder, and back. Trying to keep his hands respectably wrapped around her waist was not easy, but after all, they were standing in a public park.

“I stopped thinking at ‘hell no’.”

Royce abruptly stopped his assault, and lifted his head to make eye contact with Becki. He immediately felt like a heel. This was the second time today he had been responsible for her tear-filled eyes.

“I’m sor--” Royce began.

“I’ve got to say,” Becki jumped in, unwilling to listen to his apology, “it cleared things up pretty quickly for me.”

Swiping a hand quickly across the corner of her eye, she brushed away the single tear that had dared to escape before continuing, “So now, if you will get your hands off of me, I’ll be on my way,” she concluded, trying to wiggle her way out of his arms.

“I didn’t mean it like--” he tried again to explain.

“The hell you didn’t! This is bullshit! At the risk of repeating myself… which I hate to do, get your hands off me you--”

“I’m getting very tired of your name-calling,” Royce warned, pulling her off the pathway and into one of the garden rooms. “We will discuss this like adults.”

“Whatever. I’m getting very tired of your pawing me,” Becki mocked, “so why don’t you just let me go.” Becki pushed harder against his chest. Her heart did not want to leave, but they had already been over this once; he didn’t have time for her. God, would this day ever end?

“Stop squirming or you’re going to be embarrassed when I throw you over my shoulder and escort you to my room,” he growled.

All movement abruptly ceased. As she stood perfectly still, focusing somewhere over his left shoulder, Becki said wearily, “You are going to have to make up your mind, Royce. I can’t keep up. I thought you were “behind schedule” and couldn’t possibly fit me in. You were supposed to be leaving town, or did I misunderstand something?” Becki heaved a sigh before suddenly pinning him with her gaze, “You know what? It doesn’t really matter,” she announced.

Feeling as if he had been sucker-punched, he slowly allowed his arms to drop to his sides, giving her the freedom she wanted.

Becki stood against him a moment longer, and then forced herself to step away. She turned and squared her shoulders as her mother’s words echoed through her ears: “True character is measured by the grace in which a person handles life’s disappointments.” This is certainly turning out to be a big disappointment, Momma.

“I am leaving town, but I have to find something first,” Royce admitted. “Can we take a walk?” he asked, reaching out to grasp her hand.

“My turn to say hell no,” Becki answered as she slid her hand easily out of his grasp. “I don’t want to walk with you. I don’t want to talk with you,” Becki elaborated. “Hell, I don’t want to be in the same time zone as you right now.” Sorry Momma, she mentally apologized.

“I’ve been pretty understanding about all this secrecy bullshit, Royce. I didn’t call the police this morning when you traipsed through my living room wearing a hand towel. I bit my tongue even when I wanted more than anything to pressure you for information. You broke into my house, used my washer and dryer, drank my coffee, and took a shower, for-godsake. I had to think about that the whole time I was in there getting ready this morning. Then to top it all off, you kissed me like--”

She was on a roll now and prayed to make to the end without tearing up again. “You kissed me and then walked away without a backward glance. I’ve known you less than twenty-four hours, and you’ve managed to insult me more than anyone I’ve ever known. So you see, I don’t want to deal with you or your precious “time schedule”; and speaking of which, you shouldn’t waste any more of your oh-so-valuable time with me. Goodbye, Royce. Have a great life.”

Whew, she made it. Now, she just needed to get the hell out of here, so she could have a well-deserved melt-down in private. God, he got under her skin like no other. She should be glad to know she would never see him again, the arrogant bastard.

“Please?” Royce took the wind out of her sails with one softly spoken word.

Her brain screamed, Run--don’t walk, as far away as you can. Her heart whispered, Just a little while longer. With Lucifer sitting on one shoulder and an angel sitting on the other, her brain and heart battled it out.

Her heart won. “Ok,” Becki relented, “but I need to find Natie first.”

Royce recaptured her hand and tugged her in the direction of the sea wall that protected The Battery. A walkway, just inside the sea wall, provided a perfect place to stroll, hand-in-hand, while absorbing the beauty and splendor of Charleston. The water in the harbor was a little choppy today, and the occasional gust of wind blew through, but the wind and water always seemed to carry one’s troubles far, far away.

“Oh, the girl you were dragging around like a rag doll?”

“Very funny,” Becki frowned, as she continued to scan the gardens for her sister.

“Don’t worry, she is with Sean, he will take good care of her.”

“Who is Sean?”

“Sean is one of my--, uh--, employees. He is also a good friend.”

“See, that is just what I mean; the ‘uh--’, like you have to think everything through before you speak. That does not inspire trust, Royce,” Becki complained.

“Ok, let me try again. Sean is an employee, but also my friend. I would trust him with my life,” Royce said reassuringly.

“I’m so not able to keep up,” Becki said with a sigh. “You wear me out Royce. You beat me up, and then tear me down. I don’t know what to expect, and about the time I think I have it figured out, you throw a curve ball. I don’t know why I’m here with you now; I should stay as far away as possible, out of self-preservation if nothing else, and yet--” Becki turned to face him looking deeply into his beautiful eyes, and quietly admitted, “and yet, I can’t seem to help myself. How crazy is that?”

“It’s not crazy,” Royce responded hollowly.

Becki rolled her eyes before clarifying, “That was another rhetorical question.”

Moving closer to the sea wall, she leaned out to look at the barnacles collecting on the lower portion of the wall before confiding, “I don’t really know you; I don’t really know anything about you. I do know you are keeping secrets, and you must be involved in something dangerous if the tat is at all significant. You never did explain why you have one so similar to Kurt’s.”

Royce shoved his hands in his front pockets, trying to figure out how to respond to everything she had just said without lying to her again. While he was still formulating, Becki whispered a confession that shot an arrow straight through his heart.

“I’m a little afraid of you,” she said softly, staring intently at Fort Sumter in the distance.

Becki felt his hands descend on her shoulders, and gently turned her to face him. He bent his knees slightly, bringing his face down to meet hers at eye level.

“You don’t ever have to be afraid of me,” he managed. “I told you this morning that I would not hurt you. I won’t,” he promised again. “You have my word.”

Realizing that he had misunderstood her words, she cupped his face in both hands and explained, “I don’t mean that I’m afraid of you physically. I know you are an honorable man, Royce; that much I do know. But there are so many things I don’t know.” Sliding her hands to rest flat on his chest, she continued, “Important things; like…who are you, really? And don’t give me that ‘home security’ story. I’m not buying it,” she warned. “How did you get here? What is it that you have to find?” Eventually she got to the heart of the matter, “Do you have a wife waiting for you somewhere, a girlfriend? Those are the things I am afraid of, Royce, the things that could potentially hurt me.”

“You are precious,” he said, dropping a quick buzz on her nose. He plucked one of her hands from his chest, and began walking again, leaving her no choice but to move with him.

“I direct and manage a team of recovery experts, a division of ART Security. There was a collection of artifacts, coins, stolen quite some time ago. The coin collection was eventually divided and then scattered around the world. One piece of the collection was last seen here, in Charleston. I’m trying to locate and return it to the rightful owners. Then my team will move on to recover the next, and then the next, until we have recovered them all,” Royce explained, sticking to the truth, but not the whole truth.

Becki stopped short and turned to face him. “Seriously, Royce? You are just looking for a bunch of old coins? That’s it? That’s the secret?” she played him, batting her eyes like the idiot he seemed to think she was.

“I can help you find them, Royce; I’m good at treasure hunting. I have a knack for finding things. Just yesterday, I found the coolest crate while Jonah and I were hunting sharks’ teeth.”

Obviously, she was not going let it go easily, so Royce presented one more detail, “The collection is worth a lot of money, Becki.”

“Do you realize you have never shown any interest in the crate that was stolen from my back yard?” Becki pressed suddenly. “Kurt acted really funny about that, Royce, and I thought at the time he was being overprotective. I’ve thought about your conversation with him, and the fact that I had to leave my own deck so you could talk privately. Something is not adding up, Royce. Are you really here just to look for some coins that a collector hired you to find?”

“I am,” Royce answered in all honesty.

“Great, then I can help.” Pulling out her cell phone, she opened messaging and looked at Royce with an expectant expression, “Explain what you are looking for, and I can get some of my friends…”

“No.”

“No?” Becki repeated.

“No,” Royce repeated firmly.

Becki’s phone beeped at that moment and flashed message from Natie; Catch ya this pm 6 at Kurt’s”

As he watched Becki respond to the text message, he thought about his current predicament. Finding this coin was proving to be more difficult than he had initially anticipated. The Council thought they were getting close to being able to lift the cloaks currently surrounding each coin. Sean was here hoping to use the new software and receptors he had developed to pick up a trail of digital bread crumbs that should have been left behind by the coins. He was not certain how long the digital trail might last or how close to the trail the receptors had to be in order to pick it up. The software was still in the final stages of development, but if Sean could collect enough data at this location, he might be able to better use the technology to locate the remaining coins.

Joanna would be arriving in the morning to work the magic angle; together, hopefully, they could peek through the cloaking spells.

Coins and spells. Grim reminders to Royce that he could not allow himself to be become emotionally entwined with someone like Becki. Someone good, someone blissfully unaware of all things immortal, someone unaware of the reality that things do go bump in the night, someone sweet and innocent.

“That was Natie,” Becki announced. “Come to think of it, she could help too. Now, back to my original question: What is it exactly that we should be looking for?”

Turning to look across the water at Fort Sumter, Royce pulled Becki close to his side and tucked her under his arm. “I’m not going there with you Becki, so just stop. I can’t share the details of the recovery mission; the owner insists on privacy.” Regretfully he continued, “I also can’t get involved with you.”

Becki immediately stiffened and shifted to pull away from him.

“I can’t get involved; no matter how intelligent, sexy, and beautiful you are,” Royce pinned her once again with his beautiful eyes, continuing, “not because I don’t want to, but because I can’t.”

Royce still held onto her, cherishing these few moments, tucking away a memory to pull out on a lonely day. His thoughts drifted to the coin collector, the one found dead in Savannah. He stiffened his resolve and forced himself to say, “There are things you wouldn’t understand; things I can’t tell you. Unscrupulous people are involved; people who will hurt or kill anyone who gets in their way. I can’t risk it, Becki. I can’t risk you being in danger because of me and what I do.”

“Wow, I guess I just don’t appreciate antiques and art near-enough, because I’ve never seen anything worth killing someone for. In fact, most of what is considered ‘art’ seems just plain ugly to me.”

Royce chuckled. “You have a point there. I do wish things were different, Becki. You are a breath of fresh air. Someone will be very lucky to call you his own.”

“By someone, you mean someone other than you,” Becki clarified, her arm around his waist, her head tipped looking at him from under long dark lashes. “If that is how you feel, then you need to stop kissing me and stop with all this touchy-feely stuff, because you are sending mixed signals. I know you feel what I feel, or at least something similar, and to think that you can just turn and walk away from it, from me-”

She stood watching emotions play over his face-- waiting for Royce to say something.

“Can you do that Royce? Can you really do that?” she whispered hopefully.

Becki felt her heart breaking as she saw the answer in his eyes.

The moment was shattered by someone calling her name.

“Becki? Hi doll, how goes it?”

Trevor Simmons, cruising by in his Porsche 911 convertible, was just what she needed…a knight in shining armor. And what a chariot he possessed!

Royce’s silence was answer enough. Sliding her arms from where they were still resting around Royce’s waist, she stepped quickly toward the car. Pretending her heart wasn’t breaking, and pretending she didn’t care, she pasted on a smile.

“Hi Trev, give me a ride?” she asked.

“Sure Babe. I’ll give you a ride anytime…anywhere.” Trevor made a production of raking his eyes up and down her body, leering as if she were all his bad-boy fantasies rolled into one. “It will be my pleasure doll,” he assured her. After casting an I-got-the-girl look at Royce, he turned back to Becki promising, “And yours, I guarantee it.”

“Take me away, Trev,” Becki whispered, her smile slipping just a little.

He smiled wickedly, “Hop on, I mean in. Let me make your dreams come true doll face.”

Becki climbed in, forced a flirty laugh, and said, “I’m just dying for someone to make my dreams come true.”

#

Royce watched as Becki drove away with the other man, leaving him standing alone. Just like you wanted, right? If he were being honest, he felt the separation to the pit of his stomach. It felt like something was being ripped from his soul; an unfamiliar, and somewhat painful sensation.

“Oh shit, Dude, what’s she doing with him?” Sean asked as he approached Royce.

“Hmmm? Oh, he’s a friend of hers evidently; she needed a ride back to her car,” Royce responded, not fully engaged in the conversation. He was busy wishing his life were different. In that moment, Royce wished to be an ordinary guy, a banker maybe with an ordinary nine-to-five day job. Who was he kidding? That would drive him nuts inside a month.

“I hope not,” Sean continued, his tone serious for once, “that’s one deadly friend.”

“Deadly friend,” now that got Royce’s attention.

“Speak to me in English Sean; clear, concise sentences, starting now.”

Sean knew Royce meant business, which must mean that Royce must be more involved with Becki than he was willing to admit. The kissing episode in the park might have been Sean’s first clue, but now Royce was going all “deadly-special-forces” on him. There was definitely something brewing here.

“Do you need a definition of NOW?” Royce thundered.

“Well,” Sean quickly responded, “that was one Trevor Simmons – Warlock Extraordinaire. He’s been on our radar for the past couple of years. He was in Savannah around the time the coin collector turned up dead. Trevor has been keeping less-than-desirable company, as in bloodsuckers. And, his bank account seems to have a steady flow of deposits, large deposits.”

Royce felt his heart stop. How did Becki figure in with a warlock who was likely a murderer and kept company with night walkers? What did she know, and why was Trevor interested in her? This changed things, a whole plethora of things. Becki had no idea of the danger she was in. He had to find a way to protect her while keeping her at a distance. He had to be able to think clearly. He could never forgive himself if he let something happen to Becki.

“Pin him,” Royce said, referring to a process of tagging an individual so they could track their movements. The process involved scanning a person’s aura to capture DNA traces, a technology recently developed by ART. Sean, a geek with too much time on his hands, was somewhat of a genius. The process had just been perfected, and they were beginning to use it more and more.

“I may be able to grab a shimmer, but he wasn’t here very long,” Sean cautioned as he grabbed a gadget out of his back pocket. Holding a device that closely resembled a cell phone, he began punching buttons, walking around in circles, and waiving the phone-like gadget frantically in large circles.

“You have to get it, Sean. We need to find Trevor. I don’t know why he’s here, but I suspect it has something to do with the coin. I do not want Becki caught in the back-lash of this mess,” Royce said. He stopped his pacing long enough to observe, “You look like an idiot doing that, and you’re attracting attention.”

A family out for a stroll stopped short when they saw Sean waving his arms around. The parents actually crossed to the other side of the street, shepherding their children tightly together and forming a protective wall between them and the “mad man”.

Giving them a nod, Royce just smiled.

The mother could be heard instructing the children to “stare straight ahead and don’t look at them.”

“Tomorrow we’ll go to the aquarium, right Mom?” The oldest child asked. “Hopefully, they screen people before they let them in there.”

“Sean, wrap it up,” Royce said tersely, feeling sweat gather in the small of his back. It was quite warm out even with a slightly stronger breeze than normal.

“I’ve got nothing, Boss; I’m not picking up even the slightest shimmer of Trevor’s aura. I’m sorry,” Sean sighed. “We’ll have to set a TRAP.”

The Techno Residual Aura Procurement device (TRAP) had been developed as a DNA collection mechanism. The advanced technology allowed for nonintrusive collection of DNA by trapping residual aura. The Aura was then decoded and transposed into DNA. The resulting DNA could be fed into Sean’s system and used to track or pin-point the subject.

“Where did Becki park? We might be able to snag something there when he drops her off,” Sean said, putting the small black gadget back in his pocket.

“Good call,” Royce agreed. “Did you have any luck picking up the coin’s frequency?”

“No, but Joanna will be here tomorrow. I need her to pull the cloak off if she can. We will need a few seconds with a clear view. If she can’t do it alone, she is going to have to call in Tammy.”

Royce rolled his eyes, “That’s just what I need; both of them breathing down my neck.”

“Just wanted to let you know; don’t shoot the messenger,” Sean returned in an irritatingly chipper way.

Royce hoped Joanna could do what needed to be done. He certainly didn’t need Tammy and his father in the mix right now. Joanna got mouthy when she was mad, while Tammy always cried big fat tears that made you feel like a heel, even if you hadn’t done anything wrong. And just for the record, he hadn’t-- done anything wrong that is. He didn’t ask to be zapped, crated up, and dumped in the ocean for two years. But that wouldn’t matter to Tammy; she was protective, as fierce as a tiger if someone messed with her cubs. He hoped she would someday realized that he was all grown up and quite able to take care of himself. Although, when he thought about it further, this might not be the best time to make that point.

“Let’s get back to the condo. We need to tap into City Surveillance and see if we can find out where Trevor has taken Becki. I should have known something wasn’t right. He was spouting off like a silver-tongued devil, feeding her a line of shit a mile long,” Royce said, “and she was eating it up.”

He muttered the last part under his breath. Sean heard, but wisely pretended that he hadn’t.

“Sure thing, Boss; uh-- just so I’m clear, are we tracking Trevor or Becki?”

Royce leveled a look at Sean that would have crumbled a lesser man, “Don’t start this shit with me, Sean. I’m warning you, don’t start.”

Seeing the opening he had been waiting for, he threw caution to the wind, took his life in his own hands, and went for it, “Royce you deserve to be happy,” he said quietly. Since Royce didn’t come at him swinging, Sean found the courage to continue, “Losing Tara was hard on all of us, man, but, she wouldn’t want you to mourn for the rest of your life.

Tara requested the assignment, she accomplished her mission. You and I both know if she hadn’t gotten that Tiara out, this world would be an entirely different place. It went down exactly the way she had planned it, Royce.

Tara knew that she could only transport one object at a time. Her telekinetic ability had weakened substantially. She made the call, Royce; she chose to send the Tiara rather than herself. It’s the call any of us would have made. Let her go man, and stop blaming yourself. She wouldn’t have wanted that.”

“I should have known she would take the mission; hell, I did know she would take the mission,” Royce finally admitted to himself as well as Sean. “We fought about it before I left for Rome; she promised to wait for me. I was only gone three days. She was supposed to wait until I got back so I could go with her.”

Royce scrubbed his face with both hands. It was hard to finally face the truth.

“She knew she wouldn’t make it, Sean. We all knew going in alone was too risky.”

“Look at her other option, Royce,” Sean said quietly. “It wasn’t much of an option if you ask me.”

Tara would always hold a special place in his heart. Her death was hard to handle, but Sean was right. It was time to let her go.

“I know,” Royce agreed, his heart still felt the pain of losing his wife, but it was less intense than it had been in the past. “Tara didn’t want us to watch her slowly fade away; she was too full of life to accept that fate.”

It made no sense. As many advances that had been made in medicine and technology, the cure for cancer kept eluding everyone. Tara’s tumor had been discovered during a routine physical. After extensive testing, it had been deemed untreatable. The doctors had advised that she had two years at best before the cancer claimed her. For the better part of a year, Tara had kept her illness a secret from everyone including Royce.

“She loved you, Royce. Respect her sacrifice for what it was. She saved the Tiara,” Sean reminded. “Hell, she saved the world, and died a hero… in her time and in her way. What more could we ask for, any of us?” Sean concluded quietly.

“I wished she had told me the truth sooner, but I guess it wouldn’t have made things any easier.”

“Her time, her way,” Sean reiterated.

“You’re right; she got the golden ticket in the end, didn’t she? It’s hard to let go, but I know it’s time.” Royce breathed deeply and felt the tension and guilt of the past slip away on the ocean breeze.

“You know she would kick your ass right now,” Sean said referring to the fact that Royce had just watched Becki drive away with the enemy.

Royce laughed outright, a big full laugh that had been missing for several years.

“In a heartbeat,” Royce agreed. “Maybe I need my ass kicked.”

“Um, I think I can help you out with that. Let’s go find your girl,” Sean clapped Royce on the back and walked ahead with a goofy swagger.

“Don’t push it, Jones,” Royce growled.

Sean was right. It was time to stop living in the past with regrets and what if’s. It was time to start living in today, and enjoying life again.

As he and Sean walked back to Fort Sumter House, he thought about the girl he had just let get away. Let -- hell. Pushed was more accurate, he admitted. She was out there riding around with a Warlock who’s suspected of murder. And to think he had told himself he was pushing her away because his life was too dangerous. Go figure.

Royce walked down the oyster shell pathway through the gardens enjoying a new feeling of freedom. Unencumbered, he absorbed the huge majestic Oak trees, garden rooms, statues, memorials, and even families picnicking in the grass. He couldn’t keep from thinking of the history represented by this park. The many people who passed through for pleasure, those who had served during war-time, even the gentleman pirate who was rumored to be hanged from one of these very trees.

Royce realized that time has a way of moving on. He was finally ready to move along with it. Living in the past wasn’t living. He would learn from the past and focus on the future.

#

What a perfect antidote for a shitty day: loud music, wind blowing through your hair, and an unhealthy amount of speed. As Trevor raced down Highway 17, wind blew through Becki’s hair and the radio blared. She began to feel the stress, brought on by her latest encounter with Royce, melt away. Trevor had arrived at the exact moment she needed to be rescued. Royce had turned out to be first-class alright: a first-class jerk, a first-class pain in her ass, a first class- kisser. Becki leaned her head back against the comfortable leather seat and attempted to push him out of her mind. Royce was obviously not interested, and Becki had plenty of offers anyway. Becki promised herself there would be no more tears wasted on that first-class idiot.

She felt as if she had spent the entire day on an unending, emotional roller-coaster. Royce sent mixed signals. She didn’t know what to think or feel. He pushed her way, then pulled her close, and then pushed her away again.

For someone who was supposedly in town tracking down art, he acted like he was tracking down state secrets or something. Becki decided that when she got home, she would get on-line and do a little investigating of her own; she loved a good mystery.

“Hey doll, where are you?” Trevor asked, catching her hand across the console. He flashed a wicked grin and took a wild guess, “Imagining all the delightfully wicked ways we could spend the afternoon?”

“Ha,” Becki chuckled, “yeah, that’s it, you caught me.”

He raised her hand to his lips dropping a kiss on her knuckles, “You want to buzz on up the coast and find a nice quiet stretch of beach? We could skinny-dip. You could be my sea nymph.”

Becki squeezed his hand and pulled hers away to drag long strands of flying hair out of her eyes.

“Trev, you are crazy,” Becki observed laughingly.

“Can’t blame a guy for trying,” he shrugged.

“Why’s a guy like you still single anyway? You’ve got the whole package: great car, killer smile, charm and good looks.”

“Don’t stop, princess, keep it coming. I’m all ears,” he grinned and pointedly dropped his gaze to his crotch, “well except for--”

Becki reached across to clamp her hand over his mouth, effectively stopping whatever outrageous comment he had planned to make.

“OK,” he mumbled from beneath her hand, “too much information.”

Becki removed her hand and turned in her seat to face him.

“What is the down side, Trev?” she asked.

“No down side,” he bragged, “I’m the perfect male specimen.”

“Nobody’s perfect. Tell me something about the great Trevor Simmons that would make me want to run and hide,” Becki teased, resting her chin on her hands, elbows propped in the middle of console. Her eyes danced as she pressed him for information. “Tell me all your deep, dark secrets.”

Something unreadable flashed across his face, and then it was gone in an instant.

“I’m bad to the bone, doll,” he shot back. “No secret about that.”

Becki sat back with a sigh, “Trevor, you are no fun.”

Flashing his bad-boy grin, he countered, “Oh, I’m as much fun as you can handle. Let’s find some dinner, maybe take a walk on the beach, and if you’re really good, I’ll take you home and show you my art collection,” he finished with a broad wink.

“I’ve heard enough about art collections today to last a lifetime,” Becki said as Trevor watched the sparkle diminish in her eyes.

“Sorry doll, didn’t know you had something against art,” Trevor apologized.

“Oh, it’s not so much the art itself. I’m just in a bad mood.”

“Pissed at the guy you were all wrapped up with back there? Who is he?” he asked suspecting he already knew the answer.

“Oh, just...it doesn’t matter. I’m so over it.”

Playing along, Trevor asked, “Do I need to beat him up for you?” He didn’t really want to press her, but he needed to know. “Give me a name and address; I’ll take care of him.”

“Just someone I met. I don’t have any idea what Royce’s address is and truthfully don’t care.”

So her companion at the seawall had been Royce St. John. Shit! Trevor would have to alert the others and then figure out how to keep Becki off the radar. The coin must be nearby if ART was swarming the city.

“Go faster! Please Trevor,” she suddenly pleaded. “Make my heart race.”

“Always happy to oblige, Darlin’,” he grinned as he punched the gas pedal to send them flying.

“Ahhh, yessss,” Becki breathed as the wind whipped around her and the scenery turned into a blur of color.

He blinked once, and a stealth-cloak settled over the car. No need to risk getting pulled over. Fortunately, it was a quick and easy spell that Becki couldn’t detect from inside the car.

“God, this is great,” Becki said with a laugh as they raced down the open road. Trevor swerved at the last minute to avoid a car that suddenly pulled onto the road in front of them. Swerving was not necessary. They could have just driven right through the other vehicle with another bit a magic, but where was the fun in that?

“Ahh!” Becki screamed and then turned toward Trevor laughing. “Trev, you are a very bad boy. You’ll be the death of me.”

“Not a chance doll,” Trevor said in sudden seriousness as he slowed the vehicle to a more reasonable speed.

Becki wrinkled her nose at him, “Kidding Trev, just kidding.”

Pulling her hair up to secure it in a pony-tail, she said regretfully, “I have strict orders to be at my uncle’s house tonight. Can I have a rain check for dinner and the beach?

I do have to admit that I would sooo rather walk on the beach tonight. I love my family, but I’m not in the mood for a crowd tonight. Surf and starlight sound like heaven.”

“I could kidnap you,” Trevor offered.

“My uncle and Landon would hunt you down,” she laughed. “We’ll do it sometime soon. I promise.”

“I’ll sweep you off your feet yet, sugar. Just wait,” he threatened.

“You don’t have a big enough broom, Trev. These feet are firmly planted,” Becki said lifting her leg to put one foot on the dashboard and wiggle her painted toenails.

“Doll;” Trevor drawled, “my ‘broom’ is more than big enough. I’ll be glad to demonstrate--anytime you say the word.”

Laughing Becki straightened in her seat and said regretfully, “You had better take me back Trev, I still have to get ready. I haven’t seen the girls for a few days, so I want to spend some time with them before dinner. Since they always seem to run away somewhere right after we eat, I need to corner them before the food is ready. I guess hanging with us is just not cool enough anymore. Oh, to be that age again.”

“Yes, because you are soooo old,” Trevor teased.

Leaning her head back and turning to watch the scenery outside the passenger window, Becki said softly, “Some days I feel old, Trev, old and tired.”

“Come on doll, what’s up? Talk to me.”

“Nothing really. Today has been one of those days. I just--” Becki took a deep breath, and heaved a heavy sigh. “I don’t understand it, so I can’t begin to explain it to anyone else. I just seriously wish I didn’t have to put on my happy face and do this thing tonight with my family.”

When he had spotted Becki with one of the ART members earlier, his heart sank. How in the hell had she managed to get hooked up with St. John? They had seemed pretty cozy, but Trevor was willing to place money on the fact that Becki’s melancholy mood was directly related to the scene earlier. He had been surprised when she asked him to give her lift and even more surprised when she had practically jumped into the car.

Becki embodied everything a man could ever wish for: an enthusiastic zeal for life, ingrained honesty, goodness, and sexy as hell. Becki was the type of woman who made a guy believe in white picket fences.

Trevor loved to hear her laugh, and see her eyes sparkle with joy at the simplest things. In contrast, those things had no place in his life; he merely existed. His life was a lie. He wasn’t honorable. Truthfully, he did not deserve to breathe the same air as Becki. He hoped that he could track down the coin, keep her from getting hurt in this tangled mess, and get out of town before she found out how undeserving he was of her friendship. The coin was his main concern, and he needed to get on with it.

Trevor had just missed the coin in Savannah, but had managed to stumble onto evidence pointing toward Charleston as the new location of the coin. He had scouted around the city for a while and then decided to take a drive to blow the cobwebs away. A few miles from town, he had stopped at a local pub for a sandwich and drink.

Becki was waiting tables that day, and he immediately fell in love with her big chocolate brown eyes, dimpled smile, and infectious laugh. She had walked over to take his order and whispered that the ‘Reuben was the safest bet’ because their cook had called in sick that day.

Trevor had closed his menu and immediately ordered the Reuben. They had ended up having a drink at the close of her shift, and she was now the closest thing to a friend he had ever known. Still, his mission was to recover the coin, and he had orders to eliminate anyone who got in the way-- friend or foe. Not that he would personally take care of the deed. Trevor drew the line at taking a life, human or otherwise.

“So, your mystery man is just passing through?” Trevor prompted.

“Here on business, something about finding missing coins. He acts like it is such a big important thing; he’s so secretive about it. Do you remember hearing about a coin collection that got stolen a few years ago?”

“No,” Trevor said blandly.

“I figured I would Google it tonight. You can find anything on the net. Want to treasure hunt with me? Maybe we could find it and collect a reward,” Becki said with a laugh.

Trevor forced a smile and choked out a reply, “I can think of many more interesting things to do together, sweets. Let’s leave treasure hunting to the experts.”

As they pulled into the parking garage, Becki leaned over and kissed Trevor on the cheek. “Thanks for everything Trev. I really needed to blow off some steam.”

“The offer still stands, doll face, dinner, dancing, moonlight and a little magic?” he tempted.

Becki kissed him again, a smacking kiss on the lips. “Magic, my ass,” she grinned.

“If only you knew,” he answered with a grin of his own.

Climbing out to walk toward her car, she looked back and promised, “Some other time for dinner, my treat.”

“You got it doll face, but I buy. Let me know when.”

“Ok, I’ll see you at the Pub later this week.”

“Yea, you can let me do a body shot,” Trevor said with a wink, and then he roared out of the parking garage at full speed.

Becki laughed shaking her head; he was a trip. Too bad she didn’t feel the same attraction to him that she felt for Royce.

Great, where had that thought come from? Hadn’t she just spent the last couple hours getting him out of her head? She checked her phone, and she saw a missed call from Nat undoubtedly reminding her of their dinner plans. She would talk to her at Kurt’s house. There was just enough time to run home, shower, change clothes, and stop at the market. Becki didn’t want to be late.

#

“Got him,” Sean said. They had rigged a receptor module in the parking garage close to Becki’s car, knowing that Trevor would bring Becki back to pick up the little yellow thing sooner or later. The security camera had shown them entering the garage, and Sean had been able to remotely verify the DNA capture.

Sean had wisely kept any and all thoughts to himself, appearing to be busy with very technical computer stuff, when the camera captured Becki kissing Trevor. Sean had expected Royce to explode, but actually the opposite occurred. Royce had observed the situation in deadly silence, which in Sean’s opinion spoke volumes.

When Becki kissed Trevor for the second time, Sean had quickly turned off the video feed from the garage. Royce had not moved, as if he were glued to the spot.

Sean concentrated on importing the DNA capture into his new tracking program. He then created alerts, based on certain locations, and radiuses surrounding Becki’s home and other previously identified points of concern.

Finally Royce spoke, “I want to know where he lives, where he goes, and with whom. I want to know if he gets within one mile of her.”

“Yes, Boss.”

Royce continued, “I want to know if he makes any phone calls; I want to know if he sleeps with the lights on; I even want to know if he takes cream in his coffee. In case I’m not being clear, if he takes a piss, I want to know.”

Royce headed to the refrigerator. He needed a beer. He also needed to get this coin business wrapped up. They were getting closer; he had a sixth sense about it.

Once this job was done, he would be giving serious consideration to a desk job. Hell, he was already giving it semi-serious consideration.

There was going to have to be some serious sucking-up where Becki was concerned. If she ever spoke to him again, it would be a miracle. He drained the bottle of beer, and then patted his shirt pocket looking for smokes again.

“Go buy me a pack of smokes.”

“No can do boss,” Sean responded without taking his eyes off the computer screen.

“I’m your boss,” Royce reminded him.

“Yes,” Sean agreed, “but I’m more frightened of Joanna than I am of you.”

“I understand; me, too. Forget it.”

Sean’s computer beeped, “Success,” he congratulated himself. “Ok, I’ve already set your cell up with the tracking program. You can pin-point him twenty-four-seven. I’ve set an alert for your phone and mine if he goes near Kurt’s house, Becki’s house, or the Pub,” Sean said, pointing to a new icon on Royce’s screen.

“Nice,” Royce said, checking it out.

“I thought so,” Sean said with a cocky attitude. That was the downside to working with a brainiac. Humility rarely entered into the equation. “What’s this one?” Royce asked, pointing to a new smiley-face icon. “Oh, that’s Becki’s”

“She’s going to be pissed if she ever finds out.”

“Yes,” Sean acknowledged, mildly. Glancing at the time on his phone, Sean said, “You need to go get ready. We only have an hour before we have to be there.”

“Get ready for what? I’m not going anywhere. There are five more of that six-pack with my name on it, and I’m about to order a thick, greasy pizza to go with it,” Royce said, taking a seat on the couch and propping his feet on the coffee table.

He absently tapped his shirt pocket looking for that nonexistent cigarette again.

“Damn,” he muttered.

“Oh, believe me, you will want to go. I guarantee it,” Sean said with a devious grin.

Royce did not trust that look one bit. He knew to proceed with caution.

“Ok, I’ll bite, where is it that I will want to go?” Royce asked.

Adopting a much too innocent look, Sean casually looked out the living room window toward Charleston Harbor.

“Did I forget to mention that while Natie and I were having coffee, she invited us to dinner? At her uncle’s house-- tonight.”

Royce’s feet hit the floor with a thud, “You’re shitting me, right? You had better be real careful, Jones. Don’t jerk me around on this.”

Holding up his cell phone, Sean pointed smugly at the text from Natie, the one she had sent giving them directions to get to Kurt’s house.

“No shit,” he affirmed. “The way I have it figured, 6:30 will make us fashionably late. Another plus is the fact that if we get there late, you can park behind Becki so she won’t bolt when she sees you.”

With a chuckle, Royce saluted Sean, acknowledging a job well done.

“Hurry up, kid. We have a couple of stops to make on the way.”

Royce whistled as he headed for the shower. It was the first glimpse of the old Royce Sean had seen since Tara’s death. Sean had missed his old friend.

Jumping off the counter, he headed toward a shower of his own, lifting his fist in the air with a battle cry, “Let the games begin.”

* * * *