Free kiDNApped (A Tara Shores Thriller) by Rick Chesler Page A

his dive.
    “So the plan is,” Dave said, turning back to Kristen, who was clipping a thin, gray cylinder to a D-ring on her dive vest, “to follow the anchor line down to the bottom, which is at about seventy-five feet. Sandy bottom. The currents up top get strong sometimes, so let's stick to the line. But once we get to the bottom it’s generally pretty calm.”
    Kristen nodded. She didn’t appear nervous.
    “What is that thing?” Dave pointed to the cylinder.
    “This is what we marine microbiologists take with us on vacation,” she said holding up the tube. “It’s just a water sample collection bottle. I figured there won’t be too much for me to do down there since you’ll be the one doing the metal detecting, so I’ll take the opportunity to collect some Hawaiian microbes. ‘Bugs’, I call them. When I get back home I’ll check them out in the lab.”
    Dave seemed to consider this for a moment, then continued with his briefing.
    “Okay, cool. Once we get situated on the bottom, we’ll start looking for the metal detector. As soon as we find it, I’ll begin searching for the signal I locked into yesterday. When I locate it, I’ll point at the bottom, and you’ll see me drop the detector and start using the scoop.”
    Kristen marked their start time by setting the rotating bezel on her Tag-Heuer dive watch—a gift from her father after successfully defending her PhD thesis. The jeweled precision timepiece was a constant reminder of her father’s passion for accuracy and meticulousness in the face of demanding conditions. Then she said again that she was ready.
    She and Dave made their way to the stern dive platform. Dave was about to enter the water when Lance’s gravelly voice broke the silence.
    “What happens if you find something?” Everyone turned to look at him.
    “What do you mean?” Dave asked. He was starting to get hot standing there in the sun with all his gear on, gazing into gin clear water, anxious to get the dive underway.
    “Say you come up with the ring. The guy’s dead now. So does that mean we would sell it and split the money?”
    “Lance, please,” Kristen said. Tara, who had been about to check her e-mail on her cell, flipped the device shut. This was getting mildly interesting, she thought. Tara remained silent, doing her best to play the role of impartial observer.
    “If it is a ring, I’d want to try and get it to his family, if he has any family,” Dave said. He looked to Kristen, to see if she would object.
    “Of course,” she said. “We’re not interested in any jewelry, or money. I’m only here for...I don’t even know what I expect to find. Let’s just go see.”
    Dave looked back at Lance. “If it’s not a ring, then who knows. We’ll bring it up and decide then. Back in a few.” Lance only dry-heaved in response.
    Dave jumped off the dive platform and began kicking to the anchor line. Then, with a worried glance back at her sick brother, Kristen plunged after Dave.
     

 
     
     
     
… TTCG 14 GAAA ...
     
    Dave and Kristen dropped in over a sandy, featureless plain. Kristen, while thrilled to be diving, was a little disappointed at the lack of coral reefs. Those were usually found in shallower waters, she knew. And besides, she reminded herself as she equalized the growing pressure in her ears by pinching her nostrils and blowing into her nose, this was not a sightseeing dive.
    They landed next to a carpet of garden eels. First Dave, then Kristen, set down feet first near the community of pale burrowing eels, who first retreated into their holes, then popped their heads up again for a look at the intruders.
    After consulting their air and depth gauges, Dave checked a compass strapped to his wrist. He indicated a course to Kristen, and they moved away from the sand cloud their landing had created, ten feet apart.
    As a marine microbiologist, Kristen was fascinated not so much by the typical sea animals that attracted so many prospective young