Bone Island 01 - Ghost Shadow (22 page)

“Great.”

“I’m hoping we find something soon. Before he strikes again.”

“Me, too,” David said. “Well, thanks for letting me pry. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Katie goes back to work,” Liam said.

“I’ll be there. Oh, and Sean got home today.”

“He did?” Liam seemed surprised.

“Yeah. Katie knew he was coming. She didn’t know exactly when,” he said dryly, remembering how Sean O’Hara had come upon them.

“I didn’t think he was expected for another few weeks,” Liam said.

“What’s wrong with him being home?” David asked.

“Nothing. I was just thinking that it is all so odd. You’re back. Sam Barnard is here. Mike Sanderson has apparently been coming back for years, and now…Sean O’Hara, too.”

“Maybe it’s the tides,” David said.

“It’s odd. That’s all-it’s odd. Hey,” Liam said, changing the subject. “If I don’t hear from you during the day, I’ll see you at O’Hara’s tomorrow night.”

“It’s Fantasy Fest starting up,” David said.

Liam nodded, and let his head fall to the desk.

David left then, deciding to walk home and see what was going on. There were throngs on the sidewalks everywhere. Music blared from the clubs. He passed the giant effigy of Robert the Doll. It appeared to be anchored at the feet by a large weight, covered by plastic.

A woman walked by him, snorting. “It smells almost as bad as Bourbon Street!” she told her companions.

It did smell, David thought. He paused for a moment. It wasn’t bad booze, it wasn’t vomit. There was something dead somewhere. The Keys weren’t immune to rats, and Lord knew, there were roosters everywhere. He couldn’t pinpoint the odor; there was too much perfume in the air, too much smoke from the fellows hanging outside with cigars, and too much alcohol. Someone had just broken a bottle of bourbon somewhere nearby.

He kept walking. He was outside O’Hara’s when he suddenly heard shouting. Frowning, even though he knew Katie wasn’t working, he felt his heart pound. He rushed in. Clarinda was there; she had just jumped back from a table because the two men who had been seated at it were now standing.

“Fellows, you’re going to have to sit, calm down or take it outside or I will call the police!” Clarinda said.

They didn’t hear her.

One of the men was Mike Sanderson.

The other was Sam Barnard.

“Hey!” David said with deep authority.

The busboys were backing up. Jon Merrillo was coming around the bar nervously.

“Hey, you heard Clarinda,” David said.

Sam looked at him, and shook his head sadly. “I’m sorry, but screw this!” he said. And he turned on Mike Sanderson with a wicked right hook.

David dove in, shouting for Clarinda to call the police. He tackled Sam Barnard down while Mike Sanderson made it back to his feet. Sanderson then tried to punch Barnard, but all he managed to do was fall on the man’s abdomen.

They were both drunk as skunks.

David dragged Sam from beneath Mike, and by then, uniformed cops were spilling in. They dragged up both men, and assured them both they could discuss it all at the station. Clarinda turned to David, thanking him.

“That might have gotten really ugly,” she said.

Jon had joined her by then. “Oh, man, they’re both huge. They could have really torn this place to pieces.”

“I don’t think so-they’re drunk. They’d have passed out before they’d gotten too many hits in.”

“Well, thanks. Can I get you anything on the house?” Jon asked him.

“Sure. Actually, doesn’t need to be on the house. What didn’t we eat last night? I’ll take three of anything different to go,” David said.

“You got it,” Jon told him.

Jon headed to the kitchen. He helped Clarinda right the chairs that had fallen. The other customers seemed disappointed that the show was over. They had turned back to their own conversations.

“Well, I guess it’s good in a way,” Clarinda said.

“What’s good?”

“That those two got into a fight. That means that they’ll be locked up for the night, and no one will have to be afraid of them.”

“Afraid-of Mike Sanderson or Sam Barnard?”

“Let’s face it, Mike Sanderson seems a little whacko. He’s spent years-with no one knowing it-dressing up like Robert the Doll. And Barnard…well, he was Tanya’s brother. He might be out for some kind of revenge, or God knows, he’s here, and there’s another murder…who knows? Maybe he secretly hated his sister. Maybe he strangled her in a rage. Stranger, more bizarre things have happened in Key West.”

She gave him a kiss on the cheek. “I’ve got to get back to work. Thank you, David.”

Then she made a face. “Fantasy Fest.”

“Hey, it can be great.”

“So you say-that’s because guys love to see women with nothing but paint on their breasts.”

“Ouch!” He grinned at her. “Okay, so women see male chests all the time. Sadly, that means the thrill is gone.”

Clarinda laughed. “I repeat-” She made a face. “Fantasy Fest!”

He went to the bar to pay for the food, but Jon wouldn’t let him. He thanked him, took his to-go bags and headed back out.

He paused. So many sounds and scents in the air.

And yet…

Underlying it all…

There was the scent of death.

The knock on the door startled Katie.

She had left the kitchen to curl up on the sofa, the Beckett family book in her hands. Bartholomew was seated on the curve at her back.

“It’s just Beckett,” Bartholomew said.

She didn’t have to get up to answer the door; Sean got it.

“Cool. Dinner. I was thinking I’d have to start cooking, since Katie has had her nose in that book all day.”

Katie rose slowly, stretching. She saw David and smiled. “It’s shepherd’s pie from O’Hara’s, right?”

“Good nose,” he said.

“Oh, Katie has amazing senses,” Sean said dryly. “Set her all down in the dining room. I’ll get plates and utensils.”

Sean did so. Katie met David in the hallway. He reached for her, pulling her close, and kissed her lightly on the lips.

Sean made a point of clearing his throat. “If you two don’t mind? I’m not quite accustomed to this yet, if you could show a little restraint.”

“Sean, I hardly attacked the man,” Katie said.

Sean ignored her, as David opened the bags on the table.

“Anything at the station?” Sean asked.

“I told Liam that Katie thinks Danny is dead. He agrees. But Pete is on a tangent, looking for him, convinced that he’s going to find him, and that he either killed the women, or had something to do with it.”

They sat and passed around the tossed salad and entrées that David had brought. Sean went to the kitchen for beer, while Katie opted for a bottle of wine.

David wound up with a beer and a glass of wine.

“So, what’s up here?” David asked.

“I slept most of the day. I’m figuring that by tomorrow, I’ll be functioning again,” Sean said. “And, naturally, tomorrow night, I’ll be hanging out at the old family bar.”

“I read that book all day. David, your family was fascinating. You know, your aunts have kept records in it since the nineteen forties. They were children here during the Elena de Hoyos death and reburial. They remember the Otto family-they’re really fascinating.”

“You read the book all day?” David asked.

She nodded. “I’m convinced that… Oh, I don’t even know why. But museums preserve the past. That’s why a murderer might leave a body in a museum, right?” she asked.

Sean stared at her. “They have to find the guy this time,” he said.

“They will,” David said. “Someone will. So what else was in the book?”

“A lot was written by Craig Beckett, sea captain, a fellow who arrived in the area along with the first American settlers,” Katie said.

“Your family showed up around the same time, right?” he asked.

She laughed. “Yes, so we’ve always heard. But we don’t have anything like that great book your aunts have preserved so well.”

“‘The truth is out there,’” Sean quoted wearily.

“So what is going on tomorrow, do you know?” David asked Katie.

“Tomorrow, for us, it’s business as usual, with three extra servers. The first of the big pirate parties is happening tomorrow, and one of the bars is also throwing something it’s calling the Vampire Bite. I know that Mallory Square is supposed to be crazy, and that a lot of acts from elsewhere have already been out staking their ground.”

“It will be a long day,” David said thoughtfully.

“I agree.”

When they finished, Sean yawned. Katie told him to go back to bed. He gave her a kiss, bid David good-night and went up the stairs.

Katie was going to pick up, but David stopped her. “I’ll take care of it. You were yawning, too, and you have a really long day tomorrow. Go on up.”

“But-”

“I insist.”

She had left the book on the sofa in the parlor. She went back in to make sure that she had closed it, so that the delicate pages wouldn’t be damaged. She thought that Bartholomew might have kept reading it, but he was nowhere to be seen.

She sat, reading the page that had been left open.

It was about the legal execution of Eli Smith, brought about by Craig Beckett, and the witnesses he had dragged into court.

As she was looking at the page, David came behind her. He moved aside her hair with a gentle brush and kissed the back of her neck.

“Tomorrow will be a long day for you. You need your sleep.”

She turned in his arms. “Are you really thinking about sleep?”

“No. Yes. Eventually. I mean, if we get started early enough…”

“I do believe it’s early.”

“Great.”

She went up the stairs quickly, letting him follow her. That night, she closed her door carefully, and had to turn on the lights to keep from tripping when they went in. With the lights still on, she saw him lying like a lion awaiting his due on the bed, and she started to laugh, and jumped down on him.

And once again, it was the most natural thing in the world to become naked and intimate. They made love with laughter, and then with passion, and then with tenderness.

It was late when she rose at last to turn out the lights, and they finally fell asleep.

The city was like something that breathed, as real and vital as any man or woman who had ever lived. It was the tempest of the past, the craziness of the present, the promise of the future.

It was his city.

He loved it as a parent loved a child.

And his people had borne the injustice of others, when they should have had free run. What was fair, and what was not? Beckett had fired many a cannon, he had set many a ship afire, he had killed time and time again…

And yet he had been so self-righteous!

Ah, well…

The bitterness assailed him as he watched the house, and yet he continued to do so, despite the torture it brought him. His muscles were clamped tight, his jawline hurt, his teeth hurt, he was grating on them so hard. And still he stood, covered by the shadow of the trees, and he watched.

He saw her silhouette.

Saw as she disrobed.

The drapes were drawn, but she was there, curved and lean and glorious.

And he saw Beckett. Saw him rise to take the naked woman into his arms.

Saw them fall down together.

Saw them rise…

In his blood, he could feel them writhing, feel the thunder of their hearts.

Hatred burned through him.

It was his city.

It had been his city throughout time. Some fools didn’t see it; they didn’t realize that things never really changed, nor did people. Beckett had been self-righteous and superior years ago, and he was the same now. But time came round and round, and the evils done in the past could and would be rectified now.

Beckett had brought death and destruction to his people. But he knew that it was all one. He knew that it was his duty to bring real justice to his city.

And the time was coming.

He was suddenly filled with pride; subterfuge was a game he played perfectly. There was simply not the least suggestion that he was anything but completely mentally fit; his calm, cool action and meticulous machinations proved that. That he could wait, that he could play the game of life so easily, and others never saw…

He nearly laughed aloud. There were those who might think him insane, when, in truth, he was simply a genius-a man with an agenda as deep and important as the spirit and the universe itself, and the brilliance to move about as if he were invisible. He knew more about life and death and time and pride than anyone, and he was so damned good that it was almost-criminal.

Katie O’Hara was so beautiful.

She rose, and he could see the perfection of her silhouette on the drapes, the curve of her breasts, the lean length of her torso, the exquisite stretch of her legs…

He imagined her, as she would be.

And his fingers itched to touch her.

Her death would be spectacular. She deserved the true immortality.

The light went off at last, and he turned away.

They’d barely woken up before the phone rang.

In fact, it was quite a jolt. Katie’s eyes had just opened, and David’s had just opened, and she was thinking that it could be a lovely morning.

Then the startling sound of her phone, and when she saw the caller ID, she answered.

For a moment, Katie had a strange sensation of, “Hail, hail, the gang’s all here!”

Her uncle Jamie was back in town, just in time for the festivities.

“Pirates!” he said.

“Uncle Jamie? What are you talking about?”

“Pirates. Here, there, everywhere. Oh, and with a vampire or two thrown in. Katie, my girl, bless you, wonderful! I need you-desperately! I was afraid I wouldn’t get you. Ah, and I heard that your brother is here in town, too, eh?” Jamie said. “Tell him to get his rich, famous, sorry ass down here with you. Jesus, Mary and Joseph! I thought we’d have a small breakfast crowd and the good Lord help me, I told Merrillo to open her up, and it’s a deluge! A deluge of pirates. And, oh, Lord have mercy. You should see the hottie who just walked by with a wench’s costume painted on.”

“Uncle Jamie, if she’s twenty, behave yourself.”

He chucked. “I need you, my girl.”

Katie covered her phone and looked at David.

“I need to go into O’Hara’s,” she told him.

“Now?” he asked, his hand on her midriff as he pulled her closer.

“I’ll be there in just a bit, Uncle Jamie. And I’ll get my brother’s sorry ass out of bed, too.”

She hung up. It was good hearing from Jamie. Business as usual.

No worry about corpses taking the places of mannequins.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

She started to get out of bed, but the hand on her midriff didn’t let go. David’s eyes were alight and a subtle smile was curved into his features.

He rolled over, pinning her. “Now?” he repeated.

She laughed. Something seemed beautifully normal about the day. She ran her fingers through the thick richness of his hair. “Well, now, yes…”

She felt his fingers stroke down the length of her body.

“Well, almost now,” she amended. “I mean, really, almost now…”

“Time schedule, yes,” he said, and they locked in one another’s arms.

Fifteen minutes later, breathless and laughing, she leapt out of bed while he rolled over and groaned. She flew into the shower, raced out in a towel and banged on her brother’s door while David took his turn in her shower.

“I’ve a message for you to get your sorry ass up!” she called to him.

“What? I’m still supposed to be filming in the China Sea!” he called back.

“You were seen. Get your-”

“Sorry ass up, yeah, yeah, all right. What the hell?”

“Uncle Jamie is back and we’re being deluged by pirates,” she called. “Ten minutes, downstairs!”

Jamie hadn’t lied. Pirates were once again walking the streets of Key West. The street was already packed with people, but it helped everyone, and everyone knew-this was one of the big chances to make money. Shopkeepers and bars weren’t stingy; they didn’t try to grab customers and hang on to them all night. They depended on one another. O’Hara’s was filled with flyers for another Irish bar, just as they advertised O’Hara’s bands and Katie-oke nights.

Katie parked in back. Sean and David were with her.

“See, here’s the point,” Sean pointed out. “You go off, and the world respects you as a filmmaker. You come back, and you’re a busboy,” Sean said, shaking his head sadly.

“Hey, big shots,” Katie said, “you have both forgotten what’s in your own backyards. You should get together and do a documentary right here. I know where you can find cheap divers. Then again, what would make a better film than Fantasy Fest?”

“Busboy by day, the Spielberg of documentaries by night! Like it-has a ring,” Sean said. “Let’s get in, and dig into the mayhem, huh? David, you’re not obliged in any way.”

“I can help out for a while,” David assured them.

He did. They walked into pure insanity. There was a mile-long line for the advertised breakfast.

Fantasy Fest Special! O’Hara’s opens for ye olde Irish breakfast.

Clarinda was working the floor, and she’d gotten Jonas to come in. One bartender held down the liquor angle, even though it was ridiculously early. “Hair O the Dog that Bit ye!” was a Bloody Mary, while “Sunrise Screamer” was an O’Hara’s concoction of rum and various juices.

Her uncle was a good-looking man, the family baby, sixteen years younger than her father and only nine years older than Sean. He was definitely harried when they walked in. He didn’t seem disturbed in any way to see David Beckett arrive with his niece and nephew. He studied David and grinned. “Heard you came in last night and saved the place, Beckett. Thanks. I owe you.”

Katie looked at Jamie and then at David, but they were still studying one another. “What went on?” Katie asked.

Clarinda came hurrying by with a tray carrying four of the house specialty-bangers and grits. She’d heard the question. “It was almost a heavyweight bout,” she said. “Sanderson and Barnard-Mike versus Sam. But David set them straight.”

“You beat them up?” Katie demanded.

“They beat themselves up. They were about to break into a mammoth fight, after, it appeared, drinking together in commiseration,” David said.

“And then-”

“They went to lockup for the night to sober up,” David said.

“Hey, hey, times a-wasting!” Jamie said. “We’ll get onto all this later. Katie, you, in the kitchen. You still know the menu, eh? Gloria is still back there. She’ll call the shots.”

“Aye, aye, captain!” Katie said.

“David, the bar, if you will. Sean-”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Bus tables,” Sean said, rolling his eyes. “I’m on it.”

“That damned Danny Zigler comes in, wanting work, and where is he now?” Jamie said, shaking his head with disgust.

Dead, Katie wanted to say, but she didn’t. She hurried back to the kitchen.

The breakfast rush lasted into lunch, but by then, Jamie had managed to gather all his part-time employees and the operation was running smoothly again. At two o’clock, the regular employees had the dining stragglers under control. Katie, emerging from the kitchen, saw that her uncle, her brother and David were seated at one of the tables near the bar and the band stage where her karaoke equipment was set up. They seemed to be eased back, and talking.

Like old friends who hadn’t seen each other in a very long time.

She saw that Clarinda had stepped outside and went to join her on the sidewalk. “The air! Ah, the air, the air!” Clarinda said.

“So, what was going on with Mike Sanderson and Sam Barnard last night?” Katie asked. “Did they come in together?”

“No. Sam came in-he’s been coming in here pretty regularly since he got into town. Strange, huh? He’s been living up in Key Largo all this time, never came here, as far as I know, and now, this week, here he is.”

“And, wow, really go figure! Mike Sanderson, dressing up like Robert the Doll,” Katie said.

Clarinda shuddered and grimaced. “Now, that is frigging creepy- Oh, look!”

Katie looked down the street. She didn’t see anything unusual-not for Key West in the midst of Fantasy Fest. A pirate with a peg leg was escorting a vampire down Duval. The pirate was fairly customary-and good. He had an eye patch, a real peg leg and looked as if he might have stepped off the pages of Treasure Island.

The vampire wore a sweeping black skirt with stripes of blood that continued from the bodice of the gown, a tight-fitting corset. She was wearing the typical long black wig and white makeup, along with ruby-red lips.

“Cool costume-she looks good,” Katie said.

“Look harder!” Clarinda said, laughing.

Katie did. She gasped. “That corset is body paint! Oh, my God, that is amazing!”

“Yes, it is!” Sean announced, stepping up behind them.

“You’re a lech!” Clarinda accused.

“I am not. I’m commenting on a great paint job,” Sean assured her. He yawned. “Ladies, it’s been a thrill. Such a thrill. I’m going home and back to bed. Katie, be good, be careful. I’ll be at the house if you need me. All right, well, I’ll be at the house whether you need me or not, but I’ll have my cell. And don’t worry, I’ll be here for the Katie-oke, even if Jamie guilts me into busing tables again.”

He gave her and Clarinda a kiss on the cheek and started walking.

“Hey, the car’s in back!” Katie called.

“Leave it there-by the time tonight is over, we may be too tired to walk!”

Sean left, and David replaced him. “Hey, are you going to hang around here for a while?” he asked Katie.

“Maybe an hour,” Katie said. “I’ll just stay long enough to see that Jamie really has things under control.”

“I’ll be back then.”

He gave both girls a kiss on the cheek, and was gone.

“It’s amazing, isn’t it?” Clarinda said. “Think about it-all our lives! Except for college, of course. All of our lives, and this place is still just crazy.”

“Yes, but that’s why I love it,” Katie said. “Black, white, gay, straight, Hispanic, Russian, Israeli, you name it. Somewhere along the line, someone made a rule that we’d all accept one another, and it seems to have stuck. I do. I love it here.”

“And I’ve never even seen you in body paint!” Clarinda teased. “Hey-Jamie was just saying he wanted us in the pirate costumes tonight. Want to walk down to Front Street and the pirate-costume-slash-sex shop with me?”

“Sure. Let me tell Jamie what I’m doing.”

“You need one, too, you know.”

“Me?”

“Hey, he wants to help celebrate the Fantasy Fest pirate party,” Clarinda said. “He’s open to vampires, too.”

“Great,” Katie said. She hurried back in to tell Jamie what she was doing, then joined Clarinda on the street.

“That thing is just creepy,” Clarinda commented as they passed by giant Robert the Doll.

“And it stinks around here,” Katie commented.

Clarinda frowned. “Old booze. Sweat. Maybe someone was sick.”

They walked down to Front Street, turned right and went the few blocks to the store. It was one of Katie’s favorite places. Half of the store sold sexy lingerie, sex toys and naughty Halloween costumes. The other half carried an amazing array for the pirates of Key West. Vests, period coats, shirts, skirts and more. It was possible to be a wench, an aristocrat, an elegant buccaneer or a scurvy mate. The morning had been so busy, she’d been able to set aside everything that had been happening.

Certainly, the city did not seem to be mourning the passing of one of its strippers.

Clarinda tried on a variety of costumes, and decided on a wench. Katie was musing between a corset, blouse and skirt, and a recreation of an Elizabeth Swann costume when Bartholomew appeared at her elbow. “The corset,” he said. “Very real. Miss Swann wasn’t a true pirate wench in any way-she was forced aboard, a kidnap victim. I did love that movie,” he said.

“Where have you been this time?” Katie asked him.

“Home,” he said. She arched a brow, but the ghost had claimed her house as his own, and didn’t appear to notice the way she looked at him. Bartholomew was deep in thought.

“I’m right here, Katie,” Clarinda said, frowning.

“I’m going to go with the shirt, corset thing and skirt,” Katie said.

“Can you sing in that thing?”

“The ties are fake-there’s a zipper in back and it’s stretchy. I’ll be fine,” Katie said.

“I’ve been reading the book,” Bartholomew said. “Nice piece of nostalgia for me. Beckett was a damned decent man.”

“That’s good to hear,” Katie said.

“Pardon?” Clarinda said.

“They’ll be able to hear me fine,” Katie said. She glared tight-lipped at Bartholomew, who shrugged.

“I know that the key to all this is in the past. Did you see the part where Beckett mentions that Smith cursed him from the noose?”

Katie lowered her head. “I can’t talk to you now, Bartholomew,” she said.

“Katie?” Clarinda said.

“Sorry, arguing with myself,” Katie said. “Come on, let’s pay for this stuff.”

At the counter, she produced her credit card, assuring Clarinda that they were giving the bill to Jamie. As she waited to sign the slip, Katie gazed out the window.

The sun was filtering in. For a moment, it seemed to blind her.

Then, she saw that Tanya was standing there. Standing there, beautiful and sad in white, as if waiting for her company.

“Sign that for me, will you?” Katie said to Clarinda. “Please.”

“Where are you going? Katie, are you all right? Hey, wait!” Clarinda said.

But Katie was already on her way out.

Tanya waited, caught in that glimmer of sunlight, until Katie was nearly upon her. Then she started to walk.

Katie made her way through buxom lasses and strapping pirates, and a U.S. Navy sea captain here and there. Vampires and zombies were crowding the streets, as well. The season was changing-it was just hot instead of dead hot-but all manner of costumes were being worn-naked and in paint, almost naked, to period frock coats and heavy fabric skirts.

Music was emitting from restaurants and bars already; a fire-eater was working a corner of Front Street.

Tanya managed to stay just ahead of Katie.

Bartholomew was following close behind her.

“She’s headed for the hanging tree,” he said.

“Why?” Katie murmured.

Bartholomew said, “I keep telling you, it has to have something to do with the past. It has something to do with me,” he said.

She turned to stare at him, crashed into a wolfman, righted herself, apologized and hurried on. “Wolfman-the guy is crazy! He’ll be sweating to death before tonight,” she murmured.

They reached the saloon. It was busy. Katie saw Tanya slip in and she followed. There were no tables. There was one seat at the bar and she grabbed it, ordered a drink from a harried bartender and looked around.

“Imagine back,” Bartholomew said, standing right behind her and whispering in her ear. “When I died, the building wasn’t here. The area where you’re sitting was built in eighteen fifty-one. Morgue. Quite convenient. After one of the hurricanes, folks came back and found that the bodies weren’t in great shape. They ripped up the floorboards and buried them right here.”