Free Whirlpool by Vivian Arend Page B

anything in the dive area without following proper protocol.
    He had to see it once more. There would be no time in the morning before the rush to the airport, and if he did manage to wrangle a trip back in the summer, the site would look totally different.
    Maneuvering past the security gate was simple with the key he’d found when he’d packed his bag. Actually, he’d found three of them, all copies he’d misplaced during the month at the site. He rounded the corner and headed to the farthest edge where the rocks cut down to the sparkling white sand, the jagged black boulders shining in the moonlight. The security fences stopped at the rock face, continuing on the far side of the next bay.
    The warmth of the water wrapped around his skin like a caress, crawling up his shin and stroking his thighs. This was a part of what he loved so much about his work. The chance to be in the water, to work with his hands as well as his brain. His family had never understood his fascination with manual labor. Jamie smiled as he adjusted the mask and cleared the snorkel, focusing the headlamp to its highest beam. Then with a soft glide, he was away. He kicked his flippers with a slow controlled motion, his hands sculling before his face to hold his upper body at the surface. He didn’t want to dive. He wouldn’t disturb the site. A coin passed under him, the edge of green moss peeled back to reveal a flash of silver. A hunk of wood, the rotting edge of a chest. It was incredible this wreck had avoided being ravished and stripped clean before now with its proximity to the village.
    He was there. The gridwork for the squares marked with metal frames instead of wood stakes like at an above-water dig. One square was clean down to the rocky bottom, the one next to it halfway cleared, and in it the open edge of a wooden box extended into his vision. Jamie adjusted his headlamp, the sound of his breathing loud in his own ears through the snorkel, air rushing through the thin tube as his excited gaze swept the area for one last glimpse.
    It was gone.
    He kicked in a circle to change his perspective. It had to be there. He’d found it just before they’d stopped for the day.
    The necklace was gone.
    He took a deep breath and dove, anchoring himself on the metal framework to shine his light deeper, closer. Seeing if the ocean current had moved the disk toward shore with the pressure of the tides.
    Still nothing. His breath control was good, but not so good that he could stay down forever. After another few seconds of frantically tapping with his fingers along the edge of the wooden frame of the box, he let his death grasp loose and rose to the surface, sucking in clear night air. What the hell was going on? He was in the right spot, he was sure of it. A sliver of beach showed in the next bay, inaccessible except from the water, ragged cliffs towering over it. Jamie swam slowly toward the sand and away from the site, wondering what could have happened. He knew he’d seen the medallion. He’d showed it to a number of the team, and yet it was gone? He paced backward, letting the elongated fronts of the flippers drag behind him in the sand until he was far enough up the rolling waves brushed his toes.
    The warm wind off the water dried his skin, the high salt content leaving a soft dusting of white behind as he sat on the sand to decide what could have happened. The head of the team must have already placed the necklace into the main collection. No student would have taken it and the tide couldn’t have dislodged it that quickly. He lay back and closed his eyes, trying to remember the details so he could draw the pendant when he returned to his room.
    He must have fallen asleep, because when he opened his eyes the moon had shifted location. It now hovered over the western cliffs, a trail of silver light leading out into the sea. He smiled at the sight. This was why he didn’t want to be in an office his whole day, looking out windows at