Bone Island 01 - Ghost Shadow (4 page)

“I’m happy for you. Personally, I find a funeral a special time to remember and honor a loved one, but to each his own, of course. I’ll get out of here, Mr. Beckett. I will see you tomorrow at the bank.”

“My pleasure,” he said with a shrug.

She was near the door. “I take it you’re not planning on staying in town long?”

“No.”

She hesitated again. “Then what do you care?” she asked quietly.

He didn’t answer.

“I would keep it alive with the dignity it deserves,” she told him.

“I apologize for being so rude. You seriously startled me, being here. I really do apologize for any offense given.”

She nodded and turned to leave.

He watched her go. Sean’s little sister. He and Sean had played high-school football together. She didn’t remember, but he had been in her home. She’d sported a head of almost orange-red hair back then, a lot of skinned and bruised knees and freckles that seemed to have faded now. She was definitely a striking young woman. She had unnerved him. He wasn’t customarily such an ass, and didn’t make light of the endeavors of others.

And yet, seriously…Katie-oke?

He started. It was suddenly cold-ice-cold-where he stood in the museum. He thought about the many sayings people had, such as, “It was as if a ghost walked right through me.” It was as if he had been…shoved by something very cold. Well, ghosts didn’t go around shoving people. Oh, and he didn’t believe in ghosts.

He went about turning off the lights and, when he left, he locked the place securely.

“I gave him a good comeuppance,” Bartholomew announced. “A strong right hook, right on the fellow’s jaw. And I could swear he felt it. All right, all right, so he didn’t crash down on the floor in a knockout, but I’d swear he knew he’d been given a licking of one kind or another.”

Katie waved a hand in the air, distracted. “I don’t believe it. No one thought that he’d even come home. He was supposed to stay off in Africa, Asia or Australia, or wherever it was that he was working. Why? Why? He’s got to be wrong on this. Liam was certain that he could go through with the sale, that David despised the place and never intended to come back.”

“You’re welcome. Yes, I would defend you to the death against such an oaf. Oh, wait. I am dead. And still, my dear, I did my best.”

Katie had offended Bartholomew, she realized. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Bartholomew. I’m sure you sprang instantly to my defense, and I deeply appreciate your efforts.”

“I will keep trying. As long as that man is in the city, I swear, I will keep trying,” Bartholomew promised.

“I don’t understand. He doesn’t want to be here. He plans on living elsewhere forever and ever,” Katie said.

She realized that he was silent then.

“What?” she demanded. “He hasn’t been here in ten years, Bartholomew. He doesn’t care about the place, and I don’t care what he said, he showed no respect, not making it home for his grandfather’s funeral.”

“I thought they couldn’t locate him-since he was off somewhere,” Bartholomew said.

“You’re standing up for him?” she asked skeptically.

“No, no…his behavior to a lady was reprehensible, abominable!” Bartholomew said. “Completely unacceptable. Except…”

“Except what?”

Bartholomew looked at her, appeared to take a deep breath and said, “I think, in a way, I understand his feelings.”

“I would never let anything horrible like that happen again,” Katie protested.

“I don’t think they expected it to happen the first time,” Bartholomew told her.

“But they weren’t aware of what might happen. I’d be way ahead. And please, we don’t have murderers crawling through the city, visiting the museums on a daily basis.”

“At the least, though, you should understand his feelings. If I know the story right, he was engaged to the girl. And she was found dead, right where you came upon him tonight.”

“I don’t think they were engaged anymore,” Katie said.

“And there the point. Motive for murder.”

“So you think that he did it.”

“No, actually, I don’t think so. But a ruined romance? That’s a motive for murder.”

“You’re watching too much TV,” Katie said.

“Hmm. TV. Such an amazing and wonderful invention. So vastly entertaining!” Bartholomew agreed. “But it’s true. He was a spurned lover. That’s a motive. She was leaving him. For a brute of a game-playing fellow. That is, by any reckoning, definitely a motive for murder.”

“He was cleared,” Katie said.

“He wasn’t arrested or prosecuted. He had an alibi. His alibi, however, was his family.”

She turned to him sharply. “I thought you just said that you didn’t think that he murdered her?”

“True. No. No, I don’t think he killed her. He was rude, but I know many a fine fellow who can actually be rude. But murder, especially such a crime of passion-he doesn’t look the type. He seems to be the type who easily attracts women, and therefore, he might have been heartbroken, but he would have moved on. I mean, that’s the way I see it. The man is-appears to be, at least-a man’s man. He could completely lose his temper and engage in a rowdy bar fight, maybe, but murder… Ah! But then again, what does the type look like? Now, in my day, many a man looked the part of a cutthroat and a thief-because he was one. But these days…ah, well. We did come upon him at the scene of the crime.”

“It wasn’t actually the scene of the crime. She was strangled, but the police believe she was killed elsewhere and brought to the museum. I was a child when it all happened. Well, a teenager, at any rate, and it was a scandal, and I know it disturbed Sean… I vaguely remember that he and David Beckett were…friends. They both loved sports, football, swim team, diving, fishing…all that. But then David left. And never came back. And the talk died down. Mainly, I believe, because everyone loved Craig Beckett. But if David Beckett is innocent, I really don’t understand his position-or yours. And he’s deserted Key West. So?”

“I have to admit, I rather admire the fact that he’s so determined, especially because he doesn’t want to stay here. He doesn’t want to see anything like it happen again, whether it affects him or not. I’ll still do my best to take him down for you, though!” he vowed.

The streets here were quiet, with only the sound of distant, muted laughter coming to them now and again. Even that was infrequent now. The hour was growing late-or early.

They came to Katie’s house. She’d left lights on in the kitchen, parlor area and porch. The two-seater swing on the porch rocked gently in the breeze. She had a small-very small-patch of ground before the steps to the porch, but her hibiscus bushes were in bloom and they made the entry pretty.

Set in stained glass from the Tiffany era on the double doors, a Victorian lady and her gentleman friend sat properly, immortalized in timeless ovals.

Katie unlocked the door and stepped in. Her world was familiar. Her parents were now boating around the world, her brother would always be off filming another documentary and the house was hers. Certainly, her folks had given her a bargain price. But she had purchased it through a bank, she had come up with the down payment and she had never missed a mortgage payment.

She loved the house. She was delighted that she owned it, that she had kept it in the family.

And yet, as she stood there, she wondered about the years David Beckett had spent away. He had gone to exotic places. He had discovered the entire globe.

She’d gone away, too, she reminded herself.

Right…all the way up the eastern seaboard!

“Katie?” Bartholomew said.

She looked at him.

“What’s the matter now?” he asked.

“Nothing. I just realized that I’ve made an island my world.”

“That’s not a bad thing.”

“But is it a good thing? Anyway, don’t answer. I’m exhausted. I’m going to bed.”

“We have to be at the bank bright and early.”

She blew him a kiss. “Don’t go watching more television, Bartholomew.”

“It will stunt my growth? Make me die young?” he asked.

She groaned and walked up the stairs.

He had been restless that night, all through the night.

That was the only reason he had been out walking.

And when he had been walking, he had seen the lights on at the museum.

And so, he had looked up at the old mansion, and he had stared.

There could only be one person who would be there tonight, only one person who would have gone in, turned on the lights. Someone with a right to be there.

Someone who knew it well. Beckett.

Silently, he cursed Beckett. The man shouldn’t have come back. The past was the past; settled, over, accepted. Some believed it had been David Beckett, but that he was long gone and despicably above the law. Others believed that a psycho had come and was also long gone. It was over. It was part of the myth and legend of Key West.

He shouldn’t have come back.

But he had.

He had seen Katie O’Hara, seen her go in. He’d heard the squeak of her scream, but he hadn’t been alarmed. He’d held his ground. Watched. Waited.

Then, he’d seen her come out, and he’d stepped quickly back into the shadows. He hadn’t intended to be seen that night.

Katie had left in what appeared to be a fury.

She’d thought she owned the place. But Beckett was back.

A few minutes later, Beckett had come out, and he’d headed in the same direction but then turned down the street to the Beckett estate.

When Beckett was gone, he’d followed Katie. He knew where she lived. He’d walked, and stood in the shadows, and he’d looked at her house.

He stayed, feeling time go by. No need to be here, staring up at the house in the darkness.

But he stayed, watching.

His fingers itched.

He felt a bizarre fury growing inside of him.

And then he understood.

He felt the sudden temptation to let history repeat itself.

There was no meeting at the bank.

Liam called her before eight.

Katie had set her alarm, but it wasn’t set to go off for another thirty minutes. She was only a few blocks away from the bank, and she was capable of showering and dressing in less than fifteen minutes-a nice survival technique if you worked nights and wanted to maintain any kind of a daytime existence.

She groaned while she fumbled for her phone. She only kept a cell, but it was sitting on the bedside table and, naturally, she knocked it off as she went to answer it. She had to feel around on the floor to find it and answer it.

It was Liam.

“Liam! I saw your cousin last night. He was in the house. And he said that-”

“Katie, I am so sorry.”

“What?”

“He won’t sell.”

“But-but-I thought you were the executor!”

“Coexecutor.”

“But he was having you make decisions!”

“I was acting solely while we all made an attempt to reach David. He was deep in the jungle. When he wrote, he told me to move along as I saw fit. But as you’ve seen, he’s back. Katie, this is all my fault. I thought that David would certainly be pleased to sell. I didn’t know how he felt about the museum. I made a dozen decisions and he didn’t have a problem with a thing, but…Katie…I’m sorry.”

“But all we needed to do today was sign the last papers,” she said with dismay.

“I know. I’m sorry, so very sorry.”

“No, no, Liam, I know it’s not your fault,” she said.

“It is,” he said. “I mean, it’s not my fault David won’t agree to sell, but I led you on. Katie, it’s…go ahead. Please. Get mad at me.”

She laughed. “Okay. I’m mad at you. But your cousin is a jerk and an ass.”

Liam was silent. She had forgotten that it was a close-knit family, and she understood because she would defend her brother until the stars ceased to shine.

“Now I’m sorry, Liam,” she said.

“No, Katie, no, it’s all right. I know how disappointed you are. And I feel just terrible. Honestly. I can still try to persuade him, but I think I’m going to lay off for a while now. Give him some time to realize that you are never going to make a mockery of anything that happened, sensationalize or make profit off the murder…”

“That’s what he believes?” she asked, astonished.

“I think it’s what he was afraid of at first. I know that he met you last night; he explained it this morning when he said we needed to stop the sale before we wasted everyone’s time. Katie, I think he has a phobia that it could happen again.”

“So he said,” she murmured. “But-every museum down here has an exhibit that’s dedicated to Elena and Count von Cosel. It could happen anywhere. How do we make him see that, and make him understand that…that what happened… Oh, I don’t know. Ten years have gone by. The killer is dead, or living in another state, or in prison for another offense. I loved your grandfather, you know that. He fueled the dream in me, Liam. How do we make your cousin see that?”

“I don’t know. But for now…”

“For now, it’s off,” she said flatly.

“Yes. Forgive me, please. I am unworthy, but forgive me.”

She smiled, running her fingers through the tangle of her hair. She knew that Liam was really sorry, that he had wanted to see the museum opened. “I forgive you. On one condition. As long as he’s here, you help me. Quietly. Maybe he’ll see that I’m for real, and that… Oh, please! Why would the same thing happen again? Tanya was probably a random victim, and if someone had a grudge against the Becketts, well, David doesn’t have an ex-fiancée here anymore. You have to help me. We wait. But you are on my side, right?”

“I am. I love the old museum. I just don’t want to work it, manage it or maintain it. I thought you were perfect as a buyer. So we’ll see, huh?”

He said goodbye and hung up.

David Beckett walked into the police station and was surprised to be hailed by a number of his old classmates and not just his cousin, Liam. They seemed honestly glad to see him, though he would surely be a topic of conversation at their evening meals. He was back.

He greeted old friends warmly, and thanked those who commented on his camerawork for wildlife publications in the past few years. He was surprised that they knew what he did-still photographers rarely received much of the applause. He told friends who asked that there were safe places to photograph wild animals. You just had to develop a skill for knowing those places. “Just like anything,” he said, heading off to find not Liam, but Pete Dryer, the man who had been a fledgling patrolman when he had taken the fateful tour all those years ago.

“David!” Pete was behind a desk now. A lieutenant in the criminal investigation unit, he delved into the streets when serious crime had been committed. Key West had a low murder rate, statistically two persons a year. But Key West was vulnerable to drug runners, and in the past few years, the department had made firm headway against the narcotics invasion. Most of what was really bad in the Keys was related to drugs; big money was at stake, and many of the deaths that had been reported were associated with gangs or drugs.

David had been away, but he’d kept up. Unconsciously, he’d waited to hear about another bizarre murder-or that someone had finally solved what happened to Tanya.

Pete had gained weight. He was stout now, and his blond hair was turning white. He had a smile for David, and a warm embrace, indicating the chair in front of his desk.

David took it.

“Wow. You’re really back here,” Pete said. “Any chance you’re here to stay?”

David shook his head. “No, I’m afraid not. But I haven’t accepted any projects for the immediate future, so I’ll be around for a while.”

“That’s great. We’re damned glad to have you here, for whatever time you stay. This is your home, you know.”

“Yeah, it’s my home. I haven’t settled anywhere yet. Pete, I don’t think I can settle anywhere. You know, my grandfather’s death got me thinking about Tanya.”

Pete shook his head sadly and looked down. “David, I wish to God I could give you some kind of closure. We pursued everything we could.”

“Right. The police pursued me,” David said.

“Not fair, David. Your alibi stood up. Craig Beckett was never any kind of a liar, so we all know you were with him-”

“After the museum closed,” David said dryly.

“I believe the coroner-and the dozens of people who said you would not have possibly had the time to leave the museum between your tours. We know Tanya wasn’t killed at the museum, and we all know too that you just weren’t capable of doing that to anyone. Thing is, we just had nowhere to go. I wasn’t in charge, but I remember. We went house-to-house. No one saw anyone go in. There wasn’t a break-in. There was no clue as to where he strangled that girl. Now, if there had been blood, we might have been able to trace something somewhere-” He paused, staring at David. “Well, hell, now I didn’t mean that I wanted that poor girl cut up or tortured, but…strangulation. He left no clues.”

“Pete, I want you to help me. I want to go back over everything.”

Pete stared at him. He groaned. “It was all ten years ago, David.”

“Look, Liam is a cop, a detective now-with the criminal investigation unit. Let him have the paperwork. Assign him to the murder as a cold-case file. Pete, give me something,” David said. “Hell, I’ve made a name for myself in the world. I’m moving on fine. But this haunts me still, every damned day of my life, Pete.”

David heard a noise behind him. He turned and Liam was there. His cousin was two years his junior, his hair was a lighter shade of brown but his eyes were the same color and he knew that most people realized quickly that they were related. David had never known his parents; they’d died together in an automobile accident when he was a year old. He’d lived with his grandparents, but Liam’s mother and father had treated him like their own.

“I can handle it,” Liam said. “Come on, Pete. You know I can take time to reopen the investigation. I can handle my cases, and I can handle an added-on cold case, as well. I’ll keep it low profile.”

“I don’t… Ah, it’s a waste of manpower!” Pete said.

“No. I won’t fail in any way on anything else, and if I do, you pull it back. Pete, what the hell can it hurt?” Liam demanded.

“You may be causing a truckload of trouble down here, you know,” he said.

“Why?” David asked flatly. “We’re looking for truth. Why would the truth disturb anyone?”

“Thing is, this fellow is probably long gone,” Pete said. “David, nothing else has happened. Nothing remotely similar has happened since.”

“How can it hurt? Look, let Liam reopen it as a cold case, and he’ll only use his spare time. We’ll keep it quiet. No other officers need to be involved.”

“Ah, hell, fellows, as long as it’s your time you intend to waste.” Pete wagged a finger at Liam. “Don’t you dare neglect a thing, you hear me?”

“Loud and clear,” Liam said.

“And you-don’t you go doing anything illegal!” Pete charged David.

“Never,” David said, and smiled.

“I’ll see about the files,” Liam said, and left.

“Thanks, Pete,” David told him.

He rose and left the office. He’d intended on getting to the truth, one way or the other. But it was better having the blessing of the local cops.

Heading out, he ran into Liam. His cousin started to speak, but David shook his head slightly and indicated the door.

Outside the station, Liam frowned handing David the files. “What was that all about?”

“I don’t care to talk in front of anyone else,” David told him.

“Why? If you’re on a hunt to solve a murder from the past, you’re going to need lots of help, and we’ll be questioning lots of people.”

“Liam, you’re the cop, yeah, and I’m grateful. I want to keep it low profile. No big announcements that we’re opening up the case again.”

“Okay…but actually reopening the case. Hell, you didn’t even tell me that you were thinking of doing this-didn’t warn me. I would have helped you talk to Pete. You’re a civilian. You know he couldn’t have given you any files.”

“Yeah, I know, which makes it good that you’re a cop-in the right division.”

Liam nodded and looked away. “I know you. You want to investigate on your own. It’s a wild-goose chase, and you’re worried about bringing in our cops. Why?”

“Because someone from this city killed Tanya, I’m sure of it. Cops down here, they all think that they know everyone, and they’ll be blinded to what they should be seeing. And I’m not sure that any of the members of the old-boy network will be happy to discover that I’m coming after one of their own.”

Katie walked down the stairs, trying to swallow down her disappointment.

She’d dreamed about owning the place for years. She’d been sad for a while after talking to Liam but now she was ready to go to battle again.

As she came down the stairs, she was surprised to smell coffee. The timer hadn’t been set to go off for another few minutes.

Bartholomew met her at the foot of the stairs. He looked grave, but as if he was trying not to smile, as well.

“I’m sorry, Katie. I heard you talking. And the bank is off-really, we both knew that it would be-and I’m sorry. But…”

“But what?”

“I did it!” he told her proudly. “I did it!”

“What did you do?”

“Can’t you smell it? Coffee! I-I-managed to push the button on the coffeemaker. Katie, I moved something. Something tangible.”

She wanted to be happy for him.

It was the start button on a coffeemaker!

But it was a start.

“That’s wonderful. Truly wonderful. And thank you. Coffee is excellent right now, and-”

“I think a good grog would have suited me better, but for you-yes, coffee. And it’s ready.”

She continued to congratulate him as she walked to the large kitchen in back. Once it had been a bedroom and the kitchen had been the apartment in back. But now, it was all a kitchen, and a very nice one, state-of-the-art. Her mother had loved to cook.

She caught her reflection in the back of one of the pans hanging from an old ship’s rack above the counter.

Ugh.

She was wearing an old Disney nightshirt tee and her abundant hair was in tangles all about her. Thank God Bartholomew never commented on her morning appearance.

“Next, we need to work on me stepping out for the newspaper,” he said somberly. “Give the neighbors a terrible fright!”

“Hey! And I was just thinking how kind you were, and how much of a gentleman you were proving to be-for a pirate.”

“Privateer!”

“Whatever,” Katie said sweetly.

She opened the front door, coffee cup in hand, and stepped outside. She saw the paper on the little patch of ground to her right and headed to it.

But as she stooped down to retrieve it, she saw a hand ahead of hers.

“Allow me.”

She looked up and stood quickly, staring at the man in her yard. The sudden bane of her existence.

David Beckett.

She stared at him, not sure if she was feeling ill, angry or simply surprised. He’d just ruined her life. Well, that was an exaggeration, but he had destroyed her future plans and the dream she’d harbored for years. And he was in her yard.

“Can I help you?” she said at last.

“Your paper,” he told her.

“Yes, I see that.”

“Don’t worry. I was just walking. I got in last night, and I’m seeing what hasn’t changed and what has. Your house is the same, exactly the same, as I remember it.”

“I’m so glad to give you something familiar, and happy to make you feel right at home,” she said flatly.

He grinned. By day, she was surprised to realize what a fine face he had. He had a look that was intense, as if the world around him was solemn. But when he smiled his grin broke the chiseled structure, and lightened his eyes. Without a smile, he was compelling-tall, well built, lithe, an outdoorsman with bronzed skin, honed muscles and the rugged appeal that went with it all. When he did pause to smile or laugh, there was an added dimension to him that was even more appealing; the man was sensual.

She wasn’t admiring him, she decided. He’d ruined her life, and he remembered her as a little kid. Sean’s much younger sister.