Phantom Prospect - Alex Archer [35]
Hunter stared at his brother and then nodded. “You’re right. We’ll get this done and then finish the hunt.”
“Good.”
“Where do we start?” Annja asked.
Cole looked at Hunter. “You have personnel files on everyone on board?”
“Not exactly.”
“Why not?”
“Things in this business are a bit looser than that. Hell, you think I’d have gotten Jax if she had to fill out some elaborate background check?”
Cole shrugged. “Not sure that would be a big deal, honestly.”
“She’s good, bro. She knows her stuff. And if wasn’t for her putting the boat into reverse earlier, Annja would never have been able to snag your cage and get you out of the drink. You were on a dead run with that shark when we winched you out of the water.”
Cole looked at Annja. “That true?”
“Yeah. Jax might be rough around the edges—”
“They’re serrated.”
“But she knows her stuff. It’s obvious.”
Cole took a breath. “Guess I wasn’t sure how dangerous things got out there. Me being out of it and all.”
“It was hairy.”
Cole looked at Hunter. “All right, so what do you have?”
“Résumés and the like. Everyone gave me one of those.”
“But you didn’t check any of them out?”
Hunter nodded. “I called the reference numbers.”
Cole sighed. “Easy enough to dummy those up. We don’t have any leads to go on.”
Annja finished her chowder and stood. “Well, there’s always the direct approach.”
“Which is what?”
Annja gestured around them. “Make an announcement and then start interviewing the people. One of them has to be guilty.”
“And if it’s more than one?”
Annja shrugged. “We could always cut them up and use them to attract our shark.”
14
Hunter set them up his quarters, which really weren’t that much better than the crew quarters Annja shared with Cole. But there was room enough for a small table and space for them to sit behind it. Annja nursed a cup of coffee while Hunter and Cole went through the résumés.
“How many?” Annja asked.
“Ten,” Cole said. “Not including us or Tom.”
Annja nodded. “Who are we starting with?”
Cole sighed. “Doesn’t make sense to question Sammy or Jax right now. Both of them are doubtful on the suspicion meter, but we’ll check them out later. I’ve got a friend I can radio back on the mainland who can look into their pasts if I want. I’d rather keep them where they are right now. Jax is manning the wheel?”
Hunter nodded. “She’s not due to get relieved for a while. But everyone else is fairly suspect. Sammy’s working on the engine to get it all fixed and make sure there wasn’t any other damage.”
“Good.” Cole looked at the top résumé. “So that means we start with this guy…Dave Crosby.” Cole looked at Hunter. “What’s his position?”
“Dive master. He’s good hands-on for the dig itself. He knows how to work the vacuum that we use to extract the sand without damaging anything under it.”
“Let’s get him in here.”
Hunter picked up the intercom and paged Crosby to the captain’s quarters. Five minutes passed and someone knocked on the door.
“Enter.”
A man came in. Annja had seen him before. He was an average-looking guy with short sandy hair and blue eyes. But his chest looked like a barrel, no doubt from his diving experience.
Hunter smiled. “Just a few questions for you, Dave. Then you’ll be on your way. All right?”
He nodded. “This about the engine room fire?”
“It wasn’t a fire,” Cole said. “Just a bit of smoke.”
“Okay.”
Annja eyed him. “You’ve been diving long?”
He looked at her. “Almost twenty years. Got my start in the Bahamas where my folks ran a dive shop. I left and joined the Navy.”
“What’d you do there?”
“I started on a frigate and then put in my application for the SEALs.”
“How’d that work out for you?”
Dave smirked. “You want my BUD/S class number?”
Annja smiled. “Sure.”
“It’s 263. Hell Week was in the middle of winter. We nearly froze undergoing surf torture.”
Cole and Hunter looked at Annja, who was still staring at Dave. “Go on.”
“You know about it?” Dave asked.