PREDATOR ISLAND (Sea Lab Book 2)

CHAPTER 14

Under the light of a crescent moon, the Midnight Sun swayed with the mild surf, causing the parlor to creak periodically from the constant motion. The yacht was at anchor. It wasn't morning yet. On the contrary, it was night time, almost time for Savannah Lockhart to turn in for some much needed sleep before their big day on the island tomorrow. Dylan was already in his cabin with the lights out, as was all the team from Sea Lab. She couldn't believe they were going ashore. She felt giddy, like a kid on Christmas Eve, except this felt like the biggest eve of anything she'd experienced thus far. She worried that she might not sleep at all.

Nevertheless, Savannah nestled her weary body in the chair in front of her corner desk and computer monitor. With a nudge of the mouse, the screen lit up with the turquoise background of a wave roaring toward a beach. She opened the video communication app and called up the editor-in-chief of Adventure Magazine, Chasity Brasswell. Her boss needed an update on the cover story. Savannah contemplated how much information she could offer up. She would like to tell her everything and get approval for it all, but...

The screen rang for several seconds, and for a moment, she wondered whether or not her boss would answer. That thought came to an abrupt end when the exhausted Brasswell appeared with her curly flaxen hair in an assortment of tangles. She was lying flat on her back with her head on a pillow, likely looking back through her tablet or phone.

"Sorry to wake you, Ms. Brasswell," Savannah said, a sheepish smile on her face. "I forgot that you're in a later time zone."

"Your smarter than that, and you're not sorry, so be quick about it so I can quit staring at this bright screen."

"Have it your way then." Savannah covered her mouth. "Sorry, that flew out before I could filter it."

"No worries. I'm a big girl." Brasswell quirked her lips. "Another line you picked up from your father. How's he doing by the way?"

"Splitting time between his Texas ranch and his fishing boat in the Florida Keys. And the occasional treasure hunt in his spare time. He can't seem to give up that habit."

"Like father, like daughter." Brasswell narrowed her brows, signaling Savannah to move on. Or was she seeing right through her? "You called because?"

"I wanted to give you a brief update, and I wanted to wait until I could do it in private."

"Let me have it, so I can get back to reading."

"Okay," Savannah replied. "We're on location at Cocos Island. We wrapped up day one of the dives and got some great shots of Jake Soloman and Sarah Lawson underwater. Hammerhead highway is in full swing, and we're optimistic about our schedule for days two and three."

"That's fantastic to hear. Anything else?"

"We've already conducted initial interviews on the trip down here..." Savannah lingered, hesitating with something she wanted to say...something she wanted to add in order to gauge Brasswell's approval of what lay ahead.

"Quit stalling. You're terrible at it. You might as well say what's on your mind."

"It's about the island."

"What about the island? You know it's off limits because of the ban. And besides that, even if there wasn't a ban, you'd still have to get permission from Costa Rica to go ashore."

"I know that...but there's something else. Something we found. That Jake Soloman found on the dive today. It raises the stakes. It could potentially turn this into a blockbuster feature story."

"I can see it in your eyes, Savannah. I know about the history of the island. Mr. Soloman found gold, didn't he?"

Savannah sighed and gave a slight roll of her eyes. "It could be huge."

"Forget about it."

"But we came across something else in Hawaii that might—"

"I said, forget about it!"

"But think about this...this could be the story of a lifetime, set on Shark Island. It could put us up there with Time Magazine. Life Magazine."

"We're already closing in on them, and I don't need a scandal to drag us through the mud." Brasswell's cheeks flustered a deep shade of red. "You know what could happen if they caught you there; you could be thrown into a Costa Rican prison for as long as they see fit. If they didn't catch you, and the story hit newsstands, they'd find a way to hit us with a lawsuit, even if didn't make its way into U.S. courts. At the very least, they'd demand the article be pulled and we'd be left shamefaced."

Savannah wanted to tell her about the map. The one she and Dylan bought off the couple in Hawaii. But it seemed like a moot point. All she could do was stare back at the solid edge of finality in Brasswell's eyes. The conversation was over. The matter settled.

"Breaking the rules is not the path to stardom, Savannah. You know this. Listen to your conscience, and stop daydreaming about your name in lights. Stick to the original plan. Bring me a spectacular story on Sea Lab, but stay off that island. Am I clear?"

"Very much so." Savannah feigned surrender. Her heart sank because she couldn't get approval, but that wasn't going to stop her. She pressed her lips together and nodded like the perfect little girl that her father raised her to be. But deep down, she knew that tomorrow, they were going to that island, even if they had to keep it out of the magazine story. That was something else she learned from her old man; how to hide your hand with a smooth poker face.

Shark Island, here we come, she thought as the video connection ended. She only hoped she could catch a few winks before sunrise, but with the excitement of mystery and adventure awaiting them, she doubted she'd sleep at all.