In Too Deep by Cherry Adair Page B

possibility for Church's hidden cache. His heart sped up with anticipation. God, it couldn't be this easy.
    And why not?
    Church wouldn't expect his enemy to show up announced at his front door.
    Michael backtracked until he saw the faint glow of starlight, then emerged into the fresh air. He dug his toes into the damp sand and stuffed his hands into his pockets as he stared out across the vast expanse of the ocean.
    There was nothing malevolent about the water tonight. A transparent white sheen painted a shimmering path to infinity beyond the glassy surface. Tempting. Luring.
    Deceptively benign…
    Tied together by the six-foot line, he and Hugo sank deeper and deeper into the icy darkness. Their target, the hull of the Marie Jose, three hundred yards away .
    Something brushed his leg. A curious barracuda. Michael checked the illuminated compass board. Target dead ahead. He tugged once on the line. Hugo tended to get clausty down here after about an hour, and they'd been down twice that . I'm good. You?
    Hugo tugged back . Good.
    With a quick thrust of his legs, Michael swam downward, shooting forward, Hugo right behind him. The ocean was unforgiving. Especially at night. There was only one way to do this: by the book.
    But "by the book" was a slow, laborious process in the pitch-dark in forty-degree water.
    It was a damn good thing he didn't have time to think about how miserable he was. Even with the insulated layer of water between his body and wet suit, he was freezing his ass off. He ignored it.
    The sound of his front-mounted rebreathing rig throbbed in his ears. Two more hours, and they'd be outta here…
    Ah, Jesus. He jerked out of his waking nightmare, eyes narrowed on the distant lights at the other end of the beach. The sound of music and laughter from Auntie's outside bar drifted faintly on the sultry air.
    Michael turned his head. Looked across the water.
    Do it, asshole.
    A child could paddle. For Christ's sake, the water wasn't anywhere near him and his heart was racing.
    The man he used to be faced his fear head-on, and beat it all to hell.
    The man he used to be wasn't a coward…
    What he wouldn't give to be that man again.
    Sweating, shaking, Michael rubbed a hand across his face.
    Just do it, man!
    Before he changed his mind, he strode purposefully toward the gently creaming surf. He had two days to get over this once and for all. Two frigging days.
    "Come on. Come on. Come on." His toes touched water. He stopped as if he'd hit a brick wall. "Shit."
    The deadly beauty beckoned, mocking him with his own cowardice, tantalizing him with its allure, promising absolution and oblivion.
    Tepid water lapped at his toes, then his ankles. He swallowed a couple of times, tried to get rid of the cottonmouth. It didn't work. A chill, deep and unpleasant, crawled across his skin. All his skin. His pecker shriveled up and crawled inside him.
    He glanced up the beach. Not a soul in sight.
    He scanned the water. No boogeyman.
    He'd loved water all his life. Swum in it as a kid, made his living from it as a naval officer. Loved it like nothing else as a SEAL.
    And, because of Trevor Church, feared the living shit out of it now.
    "Hugo?" Michael addressed the starry sky. "Are you watching this and laughing your ass off?"
    Of course Hugo Caletti wasn't laughing.
    He was dead.
    Michael had killed him.

Chapter Seven
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    The moment Tally burst through the door into the light, she dashed straight for the rest room, where she used gallons of hot, soapy water to wash her hands. She emerged feeling slightly calmer, her hands pink and stinging from the scrubbing. Hopefully all the guy's cooties were scalded off her skin. Ew .
    "There my girl." Auntie swung around the end of the bar to give Tally a bear hug. "No good pretty girl go bed so early." She elbowed a skinny young man off a barstool and all but hoisted Tally onto the worn leather seat. "What you drink, baby?"
    Tally flipped up her shirt collar stylishly to hide the