Bone Island 03 - Ghost Moon (14 page)

“Where is…Cutter?” she asked.

“Right here, first door to the left,” the director told her.

They walked into the room with its rows of chairs, multitude of wreaths and flower arrangements, and, at the far end, the podium, stand and coffin.

The coffin was open.

Liam walked in ahead of her, moving quickly. She heard him make a strange sound, and then he turned back to her.

“Kelsey, please. Let me have them close the coffin. I thought they were going to leave it closed,” he said, irritated.

The funeral director, correctly solemn in his dark suit, said in quick explanation, “In such cases, we wait for the family to arrive.”

Liam was aggravated, she knew. Yet why he didn’t want her seeing her grandfather perplexed her, and made her want to see him more.

She pushed past Liam and came to the coffin.

She’d seen what ravages disease could cause the human body, and in that sense, he didn’t look
horrible.

He was pasty and slightly plastic-looking, as she’d expected. Pale. Sunken. She could see that his eyes had been delicately sewn shut.

But his eyes were open.

Tiny trails of spiderweb-thin thread clung to his eyelashes.

He stared out at the world in horror, as if, even in death, he was still seeing something eternally malignant and evil.

“Kelsey.”

Liam was behind her; his hands rested on her shoulders.

“It’s all right,” she said. “I’ve seen death before.”

“Please, let’s close the coffin,” he said softly.

She nodded.

She had brought a tiny cross Cutter had given her when she had been a little girl. She pulled it from her purse and set it around his icy-cold fingers.

The director had called for one of his assistants. As they closed the coffin, the first visitor for the evening arrived, the Episcopalian priest from Cutter’s favorite church on the island. He greeted Kelsey with familiarity, and she remembered him from her childhood. She felt oddly detached and cold, still stunned by the look in her grandfather’s eyes, open and dusted with the remnants of the stitches that had held them closed.

But she felt that people were what they were—creatures of social habit. She greeted Father Tom warmly, thanking him for coming. He told her that her grandfather had been a beautifully spiritual man—loving God no matter what his thoughts or disagreements with any organized religion might have been.

She tried to make sure that she gave all the proper responses. Father Tom was speaking with sincerity. She
had known that her grandfather had always respected and cared about him and that her parents had enjoyed him as well. It was wonderful that he was here.

She refrained from shouting out,
What made my grandfather die with that horrible terror in his eyes? Tell me, tell me, please, that he was never into devil worship, that he never delved into the black arts, that…

“…and so wonderfully intelligent, Kelsey. He was a brilliant man. He knew the world, and what was so wonderful was that he understood all God’s creatures—and humanity with its different cultures and beliefs. Well, you knew him. Rest assured, he is in God’s hands now,” Father Tom said.

She thanked him. He told her to let him know anytime she wanted him to start the prayer service she’d planned for the evening.

By then, the next visitor had arrived.

Cutter Merlin’s attorney, Joe Richter, had arrived. He awkwardly told her how sorry he was and patted her hands over and over again. Once more, she wanted to scream. They had been fine in Richter’s office, but now he didn’t know what to say and she didn’t, either.

“Ah, well, at least he left you in a very nice position. That can’t be said in many such a situation,” Richter told her.

“Mr. Richter, my parents left me in a fine position. They taught me to get an education, and I have my own work and my own income,” she reminded him.

He blushed to the roots of his white hair. “I didn’t mean…forgive me. But, you know, Cutter seriously left everything in your hands. He left you instructions, but
he also left a sizable fortune and incredible riches, you know.”

“I haven’t begun to go through his collections yet, Mr. Richter. And I plan to honor all of my grandfather’s wishes.”

Maybe she looked uncomfortable. Liam was speaking with the priest and the funeral director, but Jonas had arrived and came over to rescue her. “Kelsey,” he said, excusing himself as he came between them. He gave her a warm hug, steering her away from the attorney. “You all right?” he asked her, studying her eyes. “You seem a bit shell-shocked.”

She shook her head. “I’m fine. Honestly. Where’s Clarinda?”

“She’ll be along in a minute. She had to finish getting ready for work—it’s Sunday night, and she and Katie are both on the schedule, but they’re coming by.”

Just then, Katie, David, Sean, Vanessa and Clarinda came in, all giving Kelsey hugs and saying appropriate things. She assured them she was fine.

People she didn’t remember began to arrive. Then there were those she did recognize. Several of her old teachers were there, and others from her grandfather’s and her parents’ generations. If she’d been afraid that it would be a lonely viewing, that fear was quickly set to rest. The room was overflowing by the time Father Tom gave his little eulogy and prayer. The priest was already speaking when Jaden and Ted slipped in, nodding to her across the room and giving her the kind of “we’re here for you” smiles that friends gave at such a time.

It was nice; it was good. Cutter would have been
happy. He would have wanted all the money that had gone into flowers used in a more productive way, but other than that, he would have been proud. Old cronies spoke of better, brighter times. Days gone by when they’d argued over beers, dressed up for Hemingway Days just to outdo one another, and various other events. One of her old teachers spoke about how wonderful Cutter had been about coming in to talk to different classes about different cultures or one of his many escapades.

It was eleven by the time everyone trailed out. Kelsey felt drained.

Clarinda, Jonas, Katie and David had slipped out early, heading off to a Sunday night’s work. But Jaden and Ted lingered.

Kelsey yawned broadly, certain Liam would notice.

He didn’t.

“Jaden, how are you doing on the reliquary?” Liam asked.

“I think I might have it pinned down to the time and place,” she said. “There are some markings on the bottom. I went in a few wrong directions, but I think it’s French,” she said excitedly. “And, if I’m right, it might hold a fragment of the remnants of Joan of Arc.”

“What?” Kelsey gasped.

“Don’t go getting excited. There are a few more tests to perform, and for a real assessment, you’re going to need at least one other expert. But it’s fascinating,” Jaden said.

“We know people who are experts, of course,” Ted said. “But you might want to bring in an independent, as well. Someone from one of the world’s major universities,
someone specializing in Roman Catholic history, relics and symbolism.”

“Joan of Arc was burned at the stake. To ash,” Liam said.

“Even burning at the stake allows for bone fragments,” Jaden said.

“So, Cutter was holding a reliquary that might have contained the bones of a highly regarded saint?” Kelsey asked.

“Thought by many to be exceptionally holy, to place the possessor in a position to combat evil,” Jaden said.

“I think that the Church has gone beyond that kind of thought process,” Kelsey said, puzzled. “I mean, such relics might be honored, as we honor our dead…or bow to a cross, but to actually believe that a reliquary could ward off evil? I don’t know about that.”

“I didn’t say that the Catholic Church had such a belief or doctrine,” Jaden said. “I believe that there are people out there who might believe it.”

“Everything is in belief, isn’t it?” Ted asked, and shrugged.

“If it is what I think it is, it’s worth a small fortune,” Jaden said.

“If it is what you think it is, I’ll find a way to give it to the Catholic Church,” Kelsey said.

Jaden laughed. “I honestly don’t believe that God will smite you for selling it.”

Kelsey shook her head. “You don’t understand. I don’t need the money. I don’t need to be incredibly wealthy. I like working. I will have a nest egg to fall back on, certainly, even if I send everything that Cutter wanted in
specific places exactly where he wanted it all to go. He didn’t collect for the wealth of it—he collected because he loved history and the objects that taught history. He was like one of the last great adventurers.”

She felt Liam watching her then, and felt the warmth of the small smile that had crept onto his features.

And then, at last, he noted that she was tired.

“We’d better get going. Big day tomorrow,” he said softly.

She nodded. They rose, and she hugged Jaden and Ted, thanking them. “Wow. I appreciate all that you’ve done on this.”

Jaden laughed. “Are you kidding? I love this! Can’t wait to just see more and more of what is in that house!”

Ted said the same.

They parted ways.

Kelsey thought that she might fall asleep as they walked through the darkness toward the house.

She held Liam’s hand, and leaned against him.

They hit the little spit of land leading out to the house.

She felt a sense of cold and fear sweeping over her as they did so, and she wondered why.

Then she realized that the odd and wretched odor was coming to her again.

The scent of death.

She was imagining it. She had it set in her mind. She had to stop, get control of her thoughts and her emotions.

But it wasn’t in her mind.

“Lord, that is strong! There has to be a big animal dead on this property somewhere,” Liam said, pausing.

“You smell it, too?” she asked.

“Big-time. The closer we get to the house, the stronger the smell is,” he said.

He caught her hand, and they walked faster. He paused, breathing in and grimacing.

“It’s not—it’s not
in
the house, is it?” she asked.

“I don’t think so, but let’s see what’s going on.”

He kept her hand in his as they walked up the steps to the porch. She opened the door, and they stepped in.

He stood in the entry and shook his head.

“It’s outside,” he said.

“What is it?” she asked.

“I’ll go out and look,” he told her.

She didn’t know why, but she didn’t want him out in the night. She had to admit to feeling squeamish. She didn’t want to find the dead thing.

And she didn’t want to be left alone.

“No,” she said, her fingers tightening around his. “No, please, let’s find out what it is in the morning. Please.”

“Kelsey, I can get a flashlight and find out what it is,” he said.

“I know you can. I don’t want you to. Please. It’s not in the house. It’s not in the house at all. Please wait until the morning.”

She looked at him earnestly. He touched her face and smiled after a moment. “All right, we can wait until the morning. It might be a dolphin, I’m afraid. It’s something fairly large, I think. A large mammal.”

“Or small and pathetically bloated,” she suggested.
“But, whichever, please, let’s let it wait until the morning.”

“All right.”

He turned and checked the door.

He paused again, looking around the house. For once, she didn’t feel uneasy, or as if someone had been there, or as if she were being watched.

She felt safe. He was there.

But he told her, “I’ll be right up. I’m just going to take a look around and make sure that everything is locked up.”

She laughed. “You won’t be right up. It’s a big house.”

“I can move quickly,” he promised.

She smiled and headed for the stairs. When she was up in her room, she wondered if she might actually carry a bit of the scent on her, having walked through it.

She cast her clothes into the wicker hamper in the bathroom and turned on the shower.

A few minutes later, Liam joined her. For a moment he was silent as he slipped in behind her, caught the soap and rubbed it erotically down the length of her back. “I must say, we are extremely clean people,” he whispered against the back of her ear.

She laughed and turned into him. “I just…I just wanted to make sure we smelled like soap.”

And not death.

She didn’t say the words; neither did he. While the water cascaded down around them, he cradled her head with his hand and kissed her lips slowly. The steam created a breathtaking mist, and the soap was slick against
their bodies. They touched their lengths together, and their hands began to roam, and in the wickedly delicious heat that rose between them she forgot about fear and unease and gave way to the pure decadent pleasure of arousal.

They played, stroked and teased in the shower, until at last they turned off the water, groped for towels and headed halfway dry and still steaming into the bedroom. She fell upon him on the clean white sheets, her heart and mind and desire filled with him…

And then she pulled away, rising quickly and racing to the door.

She heard him groan softly as she turned the lock.

“Kelsey, we’re alone, I checked the house!” he whispered to her.

She didn’t answer. She slid back down him, unable to explain.

And then it didn’t matter. Her lips were locked with his, his tongue was thrusting into her mouth, hot and fast, and their hands were all over one another, and then their lips, hot wet kisses that covered and seared against flesh, and he was within her, and the world was gone.

They made love until sheer exhaustion took over. She slept, curled against him, their limbs entangled.

When she awoke, he was gone.

She glanced quickly at the clock, hoping that she hadn’t overslept. Cutter’s funeral was that morning. But, of course, he wouldn’t have let her oversleep.

It was just seven-thirty. The funeral wasn’t until ten.

She groaned, still tired, and dragged herself out of
bed, washed her face, brushed her teeth and had one thought.

Coffee.

He would have set it to brew by now, she was certain. He was probably downstairs, maybe just about ready to come wake her up.