Found at Sea - By Anne Marie Duquette Page 0,85

“Ensign, please confirm the presence of the people involved in this...situation.”

The ensign, a physically fit female with dark red hair and a serious face, consulted her notes.

“Jordan Castillo is present. Gerald Atwell is present. Tanya Atwell is present. Mrs. Gerald Atwell is still under a doctor’s care at Mission Bay Hospital, but we do have her statement regarding the minor child Tanya. Mrs. Ortega is present. Her son, Roberto, is present. Neil Harris is present. Donna Padierezsky, alias Donna Diamond, is present. Aurora Borealis Collins is still under a doctor’s care at Balboa Naval Hospital.”

“Do we have her statement?” the judge asked.

“No, sir. She’s recuperating from orthopedic surgery at present and was unable to make any statement. However, we do have representatives from the Mexican Justice Department and U.S. Immigration.”

“Who else concerned with this investigation is not present?”

“Deaths are confirmed for one Castillo Flores and one of his hired men—we have no identity there, sir. However, the representative from the Mexican government has confirmed the identity of two prisoners who were involved with said Flores and claims the third man can be identified as the brother of one of the two prisoners.”

Jordan lowered his head, deploring the waste. Donna had finally filled in the background information for him and for the court. Flores was an illegitimate descendant of those Castillos who had elected to return to the gold fields of South America centuries ago. Flores legally owned and worked a low-paying mine with the help of local labor and supplemented its meager profits with illegal operations, using the three thugs.

Flores had known of Jordan and their familial connection ever since he’d read in a newspaper about Jordan’s miraculous survival during the hurricane, but had never bothered to pursue it. Always short of money, Flores continued to follow Jordan’s career. He smelled profit when Jordan suddenly turned up in California. Donna guessed he’d planned to bluff information from him about the San Rafael but something had gone wrong and the thugs were ordered to kidnap him and beat the information out of him.

From there, Donna wasn’t exactly sure how Flores found out about the San Rafael, but she supposed it was likely that Brazil had old church records like those held by Mission San Diego.

Jordan didn’t care how Flores had learned about the galleon. He did deplore the waste of a kinsman, especially an adult male who could have helped him at sea. Even sadder, Flores left no wife, no children, no other family that either Donna or Jordan could trace. As far as they could tell, Flores had exited from Jordan’s life as abruptly as he’d entered it. His cousin obviously hadn’t inherited Jordan’s sense of loyalty, honesty...or survival.

“No bodies have been recovered at this time,” the ensign said. “Also present are representatives from various U.S. and Mexican social-service agencies.”

“Thank you, Ensign.” The judge adjusted his reading glasses and scanned the stacks of paperwork on his desk. Finally he set down his glasses and shook his head. “This,” he said, “will take time to sort out.”

You’re telling me, Jordan thought.

Court recessed for lunch

Noon

THE CIVILIAN AND UNIFORMED crowd filed out into the sunlit courtyard at Balboa Hospital, splitting into smaller groups. Some drifted toward the hospital fast-food and cafeteria areas, while others remained outside talking. Aurora’s family and friends joined them, having once again made the ten-minute drive from the 32nd Street Military Courtroom north to Balboa Hospital.

“Want anything to eat, Tanya?” Gerald asked.

“My stomach’s too upset.”

“Join the crowd,” Donna replied. “But I could go for a large soda. Anyone else, follow me to the food court.”

“I’ll pass,” Jordan said. “I’m going back to see Aurora.”

“But Señor Castillo...” Roberto protested.

“The judge said he was finished with me. I’m falling asleep, and someone should be with her. Let me know how it turns out, Neil,” Jordan said.

“Tell her I said hi,” Tanya said. “Tell her I’m sorry, too. I probably won’t get a chance to see her again.”

Gerald hugged his daughter’s shoulders as Jordan said, “I’ll tell her you’re thinking of her.” On sudden impulse, Jordan bent down and kissed Tanya’s cheek.

Tanya threw herself at Jordan and hugged him tightly around the waist. “Thanks for helping us,” she said. “I’ll never forget you.”

Jordan gently backed away, taking in the face of an adult, not a rebellious child. “Be hard to forget me. You’ll see me around. Good luck, Tanya. I’m rooting for you.”

Tanya gave him a small smile. “Really?”

“Sure. We’re almost related, you know. I intend to marry your aunt.”

Gerald put his