She left the kitchen and a moment later her footsteps creaked up the old staircase. He picked up his phone, his thoughts still spinning. When Ashley discovered he couldn’t be killed, would she go after her own sister? Heather wouldn’t believe it, but it didn’t seem farfetched from his point of view.
Ashley knew her sister communicated with the dead. Now that she had possession of the Flying Dutchman’s figurehead, could she send an army of ghosts to torment Heather?
Fuck, he couldn’t just sit by and wait.
And as much as it pained him, Bale was the one with the contacts and the pull. If Department 13 could find the figurehead, Drake and his crew could steal it. If he wanted to save Heather, he had to convince Bale to work with them again.
Chapter Seventeen
Heather was grateful she changed into long pants and grabbed a windbreaker. While the days were still warm in October, the nights hinted at the winter to come, and it was always breezy along the Savannah River.
She’d already crossed paths with some of the crew during the fight at the Bonaventure Cemetery, but she hadn’t been formally introduced. Drake helped her onto the deck and took her hand, walking her over to a tall man in the center of the ship.
“We’ve got nine in our original crew, ten if you count One-Eyed Bob. We recently added three women, too.” He looked at his crewmate and back to Heather. “You already met Colton. He’s our quartermaster.” Drake’s lips curved into a crooked smile. “And contrary to what Flynn believes, Colton and I built this replica of the Sea Dog, and that makes Colton the captain of this vessel.”
A woman approached, sliding her arm loosely around Colton’s waist. She offered her hand. “I’m Skye.”
Heather smiled. “I think we may have met before. You own the Magnolia Mystic shop, right?”
“Yep, that’s me.” Skye glanced up at Colton. “I’m also the quartermaster’s wife.”
Colton’s grin widened. “I’m the luckiest pirate on the Atlantic.”
Drake started to introduce her to the ship’s pilot, when a tall, broad-shouldered man with striking red hair came aboard, drawing everyone’s attention. “Thanks for coming, crew.”
This must be Captain Flynn. Heather scanned the crew’s reactions. Some were tense, some hostile, and some cautious, but regardless of the lack of eagerness to see him, Flynn wore the coat of leadership like a second skin.
Drake had made it clear he didn’t consider the man a friend, but she figured the crew didn’t have to like him. They had to trust they were better off with him than without him.
The rest of the crew circled around Flynn, and Heather glanced over at Drake. His jaw was tight, his forehead lined, and his gaze kept sliding over to the gangplank. Were they still missing someone?
Greyson stood across the circle from them and tipped his head in greeting when he noticed her looking his way. She smiled and focused on the captain again, only to find him staring at her.
Flynn’s eye twitched as he turned to Drake. “Aren’t three female crew members enough? What is she doing here?”
“She’s under my protection. I won’t leave her behind.”
Flynn rolled his eyes. “Have her wait in the captain’s quarters.”
Drake growled. “If you called this meeting to discuss her sister, or how you’re trying to buy her house out from under her, then I think she has every right to be here.”
Flynn brushed off Drake’s aggression and cocked his copper brow. “I suppose there’s a chance she could be helpful.”
The captain looked her over from head to toe, and she half expected a snide comment about her appearance, but he surprised her.
“You’re the one Agent Bale uses to gather information from the dead.”
Heather nodded slowly. “I’m a subcontractor for Department 13 when they need my services.”
Drake’s hand slid free of hers, and he jogged over to the gangplank. Heather blinked as Agent David Bale stepped down onto the deck. He wore his usual black suit with a white shirt and black tie. Department 13 did their best not to stand out among the public. She had no doubt she was the only person on this boat who knew David’s socks were some type of striped and colorful pattern. It was the only part of his uniform he could personalize without jeopardizing his anonymity.
“What the fuck is he doing here?” Flynn pointed directly at David. “Get the hell off this ship. You ended our partnership. You have no place here anymore.”
“He stays.” Drake turned around, narrowing his eyes at Flynn. “I asked him to come.”
Heather’s jaw dropped before she could stop herself. Drake asked for David’s help?
Flynn’s eyes widened in shock and possibly anger. “Is this mutiny, carpenter?”
“No, it’s not fucking mutiny.” Drake shook his head. “A witch has been sending a ghost from my past to attack me, and she’s using a relic to do it.”
Now it made sense. Drake must’ve figured they could end the attacks if they could find the figurehead and lock it away. That was David’s specialty.
Flynn shrugged. “Not our problem. Agent Bale thinks he can handle it without our help. Let him.”
“You bastard!” Heather stormed into Flynn’s personal space. “Drake was laid out on the floor of your house from one of those attacks. You witnessed how bad they are. How many more do you think he can take before he doesn’t come back to us the same man?”
David squared his shoulders. “My department found evidence pointing to Ashley, Heather’s sister, being the elusive Robin of the Digi Robins, too.”
Heather spun around. “You don’t know that. She fights digital pirates and hackers.”
“You don’t know your sister as well as you think you do.” David met her gaze, regret in his eyes. “I can show you the proof later if
