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Sex and adventure meet history and intrigue in this breathless nautical thriller that spans decades to imagine a fascinating answer to the real-life mystery of the vanished French sub, Surcouf. When Maggie Riley sets sail for the Caribbean, all she wants is a little R&R before starting a work assignment in Dominica. The last thing Maggie expects is to rescue Cole Thatcher, a sexy—but possibly nuts—conspiracy-spouting archaeologist found swimming nude off the island of Guadeloupe. It turns out Cole is searching for the wreckage of a vanished World War II submarine, claiming it holds millions in gold coins and classified documents from a powerful inner circle of the secret society Skull and Bones. Maggie has enough skeletons to deal with. But when she learns her own past may intersect this inner circle of Bonesmen, she realizes Cole might not be so crazy after all—and joining him in the search for the sub may be her only course to uncover a hidden truth.**
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CONTENTS
Title page
Copyright
Dedication
Inscription
Map
Prologue
1-Royal Naval Dockyard
2-The island of Guadeloupe
3-At sea off Guadeloupe
4-New Haven
5-At sea off Guadeloupe
6-The Atlantic south of Bermuda
7-Aboard the Bonefish
8–The harbor at Point-a-Pitre
9- Washington, DC
10–Pointe-a-Pitre
11-Marigot Bay, Guadeloupe
12-Pointe-a-Pitre
13-The Atlantic south of Bermuda
14-Pointe-a-Pitre
15–Pointe-a-Pitre
16–Pointe-a-Pitre
17-Aboard the Bonefish
18-Aboard the Shadow Chaser
19-Le Mambo Cafe
20-The Atlantic south of Bermuda
21-Le Gosier
22-Aboard the Bonefish
23-Grand Terre, Guadeloupe
24-Fort Napoleon
25-Bourges des Saintes
26-Iles des Saintes
27-The Atlantic south of Bermuda
28-Iles des Saintes
29-Iles des Saintes
30-Aboard Bonefish
31-Aboard Bonefish
32-The Atlantic south of Bermuda
33-Aboard the Fish n’ Chicks
34-Aboard the Bonefish
35-Aboard the Shadow Chaser
36-Bourges des Saintes
37-Aboard Shadow Chaser
38-Aboard the Shadow Chaser
39-The Atlantic south of Bermuda
40-Aboard the Shadow Chaser
41-From Bonefish to Shadow Chaser
42-Portsmouth, Dominica
43-Aboard Fish n’ Chicks
44-Portsmouth, Dominica
45-Indian River, Dominica
46-Indian River, Dominica
47–The Atlantic south of Bermuda
48-Indian River, Dominica
49-Indian River, Dominica
50-In the air
51-The Atlantic Ocean
52-Iles des Saintes
53- Washington, DC
54-McLean, Virginia
55-Foggy Bottom
56-McLean, Virginia
57-Foggy Bottom
58-The Atlantic Ocean
59-Foggy Bottom
60-The Library of Congress
61-Washington, DC
62-Washington, DC
63-Washington, DC
64-Georgetown
65-At sea off Guadeloupe
66-Georgetown
67-Georgetown
68-Leesburg, Virginia
69-Leesburg, Virginia
70-Fort Napoleon
71-Aboard the Savannah Jane
72-Aboard the Savannah Jane
73-The Caribbean Sea off Guadeloupe
74-Scott’s Head Bay, Dominica
75-Scott’s Head Bay, Dominica
76-Iles des Saintes
77-Scot’s Head Bay, Dominica
78-Aboard the Bonefish
79-Aboard Fast Eddie
80-Aboard the Bonefish
81-Aboard Shadow Chaser
82-Aboard the Bonefish
83-Aboard the Shadow Chaser
84-From Bonefish to Fast Eddie
85-Off Iles de la Petite Terre
86-Aboard Fast Eddie
87-Aboard Shadow Chaser
Epilogue - Cherbourg, France
Author's Note
Acknowledgments
About the author
Books by Christine Kling
CIRCLE OF BONES
By Christine Kling
Published 2011 by Tell-Tale Press
This book is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
This file is licensed for private individual entertainment only. The book contained herein constitutes a copyrighted work and may not be reproduced, stored in or introduced into an information retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means (electrical, mechanical, photographic, audio recording, or otherwise) for any reason (excepting the uses permitted to the licensee by copyright law under terms of fair use) without the specific written consent of the author. The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the author is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions. Your support of authors’ rights is appreciated.
Copyright © 2011 Christine Kling
All Rights Reserved
Cover design by Robin Ludwig Design, Inc.
Visit Christine Kling at http://www.christinekling.com
This one is for my mother,
the ghost I talk to most.
The tale is different if even a single breath
Escapes to tell it
from “The Shipwreck”
by W.S. Merwin (1956)
Where secrecy or mystery begins, vice or roguery is not far off.
Samuel Johnson (1709-1784)
Map of Central Caribbean Islands of Guadeloupe and Dominica
Prologue
Cherbourg, France
November 19, 2008
The man lingered in the dark alley, the bill of his hat pointing through the gray veil of rain that poured off the cafe’s awning. From her seat inside the window, Riley blew at the steam rising off her cafe au lait and watched him from the corner of her eye. He rocked, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. Rain dribbled from the baseball cap jutting out from under his hood. She couldn’t see his face, but she looked down anyway. She knew it in her gut. He was watching her.
Her chest got that dizzy, hollow feeling as her heart rate climbed. She concentrated on slowing her breathing as she had been trained to do. She tried to sip her coffee with nonchalance but grimaced at the taste of it. Either the French had forgotten how to make coffee, or her mouth was dry from nerves. She’d thought she was over all this.
When she glanced up again, the man had disappeared. Riley brushed the hair back from her eyes and pressed her nose to the window. She checked the street in both directions. Her breath fogged the glass, but there was no sign of him. Closing her eyes for a moment, she rested her hot forehead against the cool glass. She was getting as bad as Cole. Perhaps paranoia was contagious, she thought, and that made her sit back in her chair and shake her head.
God, how she missed him. After all these months, she thought of him almost daily. Even the steady morning rain outside the cafe window reminded her of the falling ash. Down in the islands, it had covered everything – been impossible to wash away. It had blanketed her boat’s decks, clogged her nostrils, turned her sails gray.
But that was more than six months ago. Now she was back in France, in Normandy, watching as another shower battered the awning in front of the cafe where she sipped from a soup-sized bowl of cafe au lait, thinking of all the dead – and tasting ash.
Tossing some euros onto the table, she abandoned her coffee and pushed back her chair. She pulled on her yellow foul weather jacket. The rain had stopped abruptly so, when she reached the sidewalk, she left her hood down and glanced up at the gray sky. A last fat raindrop caught her in the eye. She brushed the back of her hand across her wet cheek. Not today. No tears.
From behind, someone grabbed her arm. Her fists flew up as she spun around, then she yanked her arm out of the grip of that hard hand. Adrenaline shot through her system and her pulse roared in her ears. The man in the black slicker and ball cap stood behind her. He grunted and held a cardboard sign in front of his chest. Words scrawled in black marker stated that he was both deaf and dumb, a veteran of la guerre l’Indochine.
She lowered her hands and examined him. His face was partially covered by wraparound sunglasses. Was he blind as well? Scraggly whiskers framed his yellow teeth, and beneath the slicker she saw layers of torn and dirty clothes. He bent down and picked up a crutch; his left leg was wrapped in bandages. Long strands of wet gray hair trailed out from under his cap. Riley inhaled a whiff of day-old garbage, and she saw the look of disgust on her own face reflected in the large mirrored lenses. He reached out a grimy hand, offering her one of several small brown paper bags of roasted chestnuts.
