Ghost Night (12 page)

“Yes, very good,” David agreed.

“Am I hired? Please?” Jay begged.

Sean was still staring at the screen, though it was dark. “Yes,” he said. “You’re hired.”

Jay let out a yelp of joy. He sprang from the chair and came to Vanessa, pulling her from her seat, swirling her around the room. “Thank God, thank God!”

She didn’t share his elation. She felt her cheeks redden, and she nodded.

Sean rose, ignoring the two of them. “This is what we got the other day,” he told David. He hit a few keys. Sean narrated what had been shot, and she knew that, beyond a doubt, she would watch the documentary even if she had nothing to do with it. His voice was a captivating tenor with the right inflection at every moment. There was footage she hadn’t even realized he had taken as she set her mask and slipped off the side of the boat. Her shots of the reef with the brilliant fish flashed by as he explained the wrecks and the delicacy of the reefs, along with the dangers they had, and still did, create. There was footage of her with the grouper as he talked about the wonder of the reef today—and then went into the sinking of the
Santa Geneva
as she was beset by pirates. He talked about the legend, about the film crew, and how they had chosen, in presenting unsolved mysteries, to focus on the legend of the
Santa Geneva,
Mad Miller, Kitty Cutlass and the sad plight of Dona Isabella. That legend had given rise to many others.”

“Wow. You did that just shooting with the two of you?” Jay said. “Hey, what am I talking about? I was doing a motion picture with a small crew that did extra duty as stunt doubles!”

“You’re a walking wonder, Jay,” Vanessa said, teasing him, and yet, she realized, her tone was dry. She was still angry with him. He shouldn’t have just shown up. He should have called her.

But then again, she had barged in. No, she had set up an appointment. Jay had used her.

“I am a walking wonder, Nessa,” Jay said, grinning.
But then he sighed. “I just wish I knew what had happened.”

“All right,” Sean said. “Tomorrow, we’ll get together and go through everything you did from the time you came to Key West to start filming. Since this was planned as a documentary, there’s an outline and a list of shoots, but no actual script. Things will change now, some, but I don’t want to make the changes until you’ve given me your story from start to finish.”

Jay nodded gravely. “All right.”

“We might make another dive where the
Santa Geneva
went down, too,” he said.

“Hey, you’re the boss. Bosses,” Jay said, looking from Sean to David.

“What now?” Vanessa asked.

Sean smiled. “Dinner. No one has had any.”

“Oh, man, great idea. I’m starving,” Jay said.

David rose and said, “How about Turtle Kraals? Tourists are out, but it’s a guaranteed relaxed atmosphere and it’s on the water.”

“Sounds good to me,” Sean agreed.

They walked the back streets down to Turtle Kraals and the docks. The air was pleasantly cool and the walking was beautiful. She was next to Sean, who was somewhat quiet, while Jay walked next to David, talking enough for everyone.

“Beginning to end,” he said. “You know what I remember, clearer than anything? Just how annoyed I was with Georgia. If I’d only known…if we’d only looked for Travis. But we weren’t expecting anything. I’d been on Haunt Island dozens of times. Boaters come and go. And of course we did everything by the book, notifying
the Bahamian authorities, even hiring Bahamian tour guides just to keep everything legit. And that on our budget. I still can’t figure it, I just can’t figure it. I didn’t see any other boats during the day. I know that most of the authorities believe that Carlos Roca killed Travis earlier in the day, and killed Georgia when he pretended he was going to take her home. Why? I can’t begin to fathom. And why stage the bodies in the way that he did? None of it makes any sense. You’d think there had been a ghost,” he said with disgust.

Then, oddly, he jumped and spun around.

“What the hell was that?” Jay demanded.

“We’re in front of you,” Vanessa reminded him.

“Must have been the wind,” Sean said, still walking and not looking back.

“That was one hell of a wind,” Jay said.

“Oh, we get those now and again down here,” David said.

They walked on and arrived at the restaurant. Sean knew the right people. He smiled and chatted with the hostess, and they wound up with a perfect table, one that overlooked the water of the historic seaport. It was a pleasant place, named for something not so pleasant, really. It was where turtles had once been stored until it was time for them to be sent to whatever restaurant or manufacturer or distributor of turtle soup and turtle steak was ready for them. Nowadays, turtles were protected, and the wildest events here that included the reptiles were the turtle races held on certain days of the week.

They ordered, and Vanessa excused herself, saying she wanted to look at the moon over the water. She
walked out and realized someone was behind her. She turned to see that Sean had followed her. “Beautiful night,” he said. “Perfect weather. Calm seas and a full moon.”

“Yes, perfect,” she agreed.

There was a silence between them for a moment. It wasn’t awkward, and yet Vanessa knew he was about to say something. And he did.

“You know, there’s something underneath everything here. On the surface, what happened was a horrible, gruesome tragedy, a heinous crime. The kind that couldn’t be repeated. But now we’re about to go the same route. Have you ever wondered if the person—or persons—responsible might find out what you’re doing, be afraid that you know something and come after you?”

She inhaled deeply. “I did my best to convince you to make your film following our route. But it might have been the wrong thing. If you’re afraid in any way—”

He shook his head impatiently, interrupting her. “I’m not afraid. We’ve been on a dangerous route before. I’ll have myself, David, Liam and maybe a few other people I know well and trust with my life. I’m worried about you. All right, I don’t think you ought to be in that room on Duval Street. Yes, it’s Duval, yes, there are cops around. If you don’t want to stay at my house—or Katie’s house—go and stay with Katie and David at David’s house.”

“It just…it would be awkward, either way,” she murmured.

“I can ask Jay to stay, as well,” he said.

She spun around to look at him. “Hey, I can honestly be the perfect gentleman,” he told her.

“Must you always be?” she asked him.

He arched a brow and smiled. She looked quickly away, wondering what she had been thinking to speak so rashly. She stared at the water. “Good God, I’ll be on a boat again with Jay. I love him, he’s a good friend, but he drives me crazy when the contact is constant!”

As she stared into the water, images seemed to form within it. As she looked, it rippled.

Fish. Fish were always moving about.

But it wasn’t a school of fish moving. Something seemed to be rising, coming to the surface. She wanted to grab Sean’s hand and find out if he saw it, too, but she seemed to be frozen in place. She knew what it was.

The image of the figurehead. The figurehead that bore the facial features of Dona Isabella.

She turned away from the water. “All right,” she said. “Thank you. I’ll stay at your house. I appreciate the offer. I’ll move in tonight, after dinner, if that’s all right with you.”

He seemed startled by her sudden change of mind. He looked at the water.

And saw nothing.

“Perfect,” he said softly. “Shall we go in? Food is probably about ready.”

She nodded, looking up at him with her wide, beautiful eyes. They caught the opalescence of the water and sky and seemed especially hypnotic. He cleared his throat. “I’m going to give Liam a call and see what your other friends are up to now,” he told her.

“What? What friends?”

“Your crew from your movie shoot.”

Her brows shot up. “You’re going to hire us all on?” she asked.

“Well, we’re following the trail that you and Jay and your crew followed for the movie. I thought we should use everyone who was involved in the film shoot.”

She blinked and nodded.

“Is there something wrong?”

She shook her head. “No, I think it’s brilliant. But it’s not as if we were all the best of friends. We worked well together but I had never met Bill Hinton or Jake Magnoli until the shoot. I’ve known Barry and Zoe through different projects during the years, but… I’m sure, though, that Jay would have information on how to reach them.”

“Don’t worry about it. Liam will find them.”

“Okay,” she said.

“Great. We’ll get on it.”

She still stared at him, wondering why she felt quite so paralyzed that night.

“Are you all right?” he asked her. “Seriously? Do you not want the others—”

“Oh, no! Of course I do,” she said.

He smiled.

She gave herself a shake. Something didn’t seem to be boding well for her, but she didn’t understand her feelings of dread. She tried to shake them off.

“Food!” she said. “I think I need food.”

He slipped an arm around her shoulders and led her in.

And the feel of him was good.

T
he scream awakened Sean like a bolt out of the blue.

He had been sleeping soundly, glad to have Vanessa under his roof. He didn’t know why he was suddenly worried about her sleeping in what should have been a fairly safe haven, but maybe it had been recent events here that had gotten him so worried. And maybe he was looking for something closer. Ass. Any fool in his right mind would want more. She reeked of beauty and sensuality.

Just having her in the house was some kind of a strange primitive pleasure.

But the scream ripped him from any thoughts except the possibility of danger, and he tore out of his own room and down the hall to where she slept in Katie’s room.

“Vanessa!” He turned the light on, seeking whatever threat she faced.

But there was nothing there. She was up on her knees, staring into the sudden light, blinking furiously. She was more than decently clad in a massive cotton T-shirt, and he didn’t hesitate to rush to her, slide onto the bed and
take her shoulders, shaking her slightly, bringing her focus to him.

“Vanessa, what? What happened?”

She didn’t reply for a minute. Then her eyes focused on his and a flood of color filled her cheeks.

“Oh, God! I am so sorry. I never thought that I…that I screamed aloud,” she said.

She was shaking. He pulled her toward him, leaning her against him where he sat on the bed. “It’s all right. What? A nightmare?”

“It used to always be the same. Now it’s changing. First, I just saw the heads in the sand. Then they began talking to me. Asking me how and why I let it happen. Travis wants to know why we didn’t even look for him. Georgia wants to know why we didn’t believe her when she screamed about monsters…and now…”

“Now?”

“Now, on top of Travis and Georgia, I keep dreaming about Dona Isabella. It makes me think that I am losing it and I certainly had no right coming here and getting you and David involved. Except that, of course, I don’t think these nightmares will ever stop if…if there can’t be an answer somewhere out there.”

“Hey!” He found himself smoothing back her hair. “It’s all right. I understand. And David and I aren’t coming into this blindly. We know what happened. We consider ourselves worthy of the task, honestly. We’re good at what we do, and we know how to defend ourselves. Liam is a cop, and he’s coming. We’ll stack the decks with the right people, Vanessa.”

She looked up at him. “How? You were saying that
you weren’t getting exactly what you wanted, so many of your friends were already involved in projects.”

“It will happen. I’m going to try to recruit old Marty, and maybe even Jamie. It will be fine. Tomorrow, we’ll do some more shooting on the reef with the four of us working and see how it falls out.”

“Lew will come to the beach again. He was there, and he saw,” she said.

“Lew…?”

“Our Bahamian guide,” she said.

“Of course,” he said. “David has already sent ahead to the Bahamian government, getting film permits and letting them know our location plans. We’ll soon need a list of the crew, though I believe he’s submitted certain names already…. Listen, about your screaming…”

“Yes?”

“Never be afraid if you scream in the night here. We’ve had our share of fear and dread, and there’s nothing to be ashamed of when it regards fear,” he said.

He wanted to melt into her being suddenly. Those eyes. Huge and blue and staring so trustingly into his.

Great. When holding her made every sexual instinct in him scream away in silent agony.

Yes, come to my house, it will be perfectly safe!
he mocked himself.

She smiled.

“Do you want me to stay here? Until you fall asleep?” he asked her.

“Oh, I really couldn’t ask you to do that,” she said, offering a small laugh. “And I’m sorry. It is embarrassing. I am competent! And you’ll never believe that if I keep screaming in the middle of the night.”

“Apples and oranges,” he assured her.

She smiled again. “Stay,” she said.

“Your wish, my command,” he told her. “Well, for tonight, anyway.”

That brought a true smile to her lips. She crawled up to one side of the bed. “Really awkward, huh? I was about to plump the pillow, asking you to come up. But that would be rather…oh, God, the whole situation is very…”

He laughed. “Premature. That’s all. Quite frankly, every time I see you, I’m more under some kind of a spell. I’m fascinated with your knowledge and talents. And there’s the simple fact that you love the water as much as I do. Then again, it could be how beautiful you are. God knows, you’re probably vibrant and vital when you sleep. Stop me if there’s someone in your life and I’m going on ridiculously,” he said.

“There’s no one in my life. Dating is really out of the question when you’re the wrong kind of screamer,” she said dryly.

He laughed and moved up to the pillow. He drew her head down on his chest. “Sleep, my dear, in comfort, I hope. You’re safe from the evils of the world—and me—for the night.”

“I think you might be too good to be true,” she whispered.

“Oh, nothing is that good, and certainly not me,” he assured her gruffly.

He smoothed her hair. It felt like silk.

He felt her breathing against him. Felt her warmth, her form, close to his.

A sense of longing filled him. Not just the burning need for sex she could create.

Longing. For something more.

Tonight, he would be content.

Thank God, she didn’t scream again. Waking, Vanessa opened her eyes and realized that she was sprawled atop Sean. For a moment, she didn’t dare move, and then she did so. He was awake, watching her. She flushed and winced.

“I’m so sorry. Did you sleep all right?” she asked him.

“Beautifully,” he assured her.

“Thank you for staying with me.”

“My pleasure.”

“Sure.”

“Well, it could have been greater pleasure,” he teased.

She grew serious. “I didn’t ask last night, what about you?” she asked him. “Is there any involvement in your life?”

He shook his head. “I haven’t been home that long. Before, I moved too much. The Black Sea, the Great Barrier Reef. Loch Ness. The Great Lakes. The Bahamas.”

“You’ve really been everywhere,” she noted.

“Everywhere—and nowhere,” he murmured. He rolled over and rose. “I’ll put coffee on. Are you a breakfast person? I’m a decent cook—that’s what happens when you live on boats half the time. You get desperate and learn how to cook.”

“But no laundry, eh?” she teased.

“Hey, I packed enough for what I needed. Laundry was done onshore. Eating is a necessity on a daily basis. So, you a breakfast person?”

“Sure, only I help cook,” she said.

He nodded. “Actually, there’s already coffee on. Programmed it last night. I’m going to jump in the shower. Help yourself whenever you’re ready.”

“Thanks.”

He left the room. Vanessa walked into her own bathroom and met her reflection in the mirror. She was still flushed. She washed her face, brushed her teeth and thought about the shower.

Then she thought about the night.

She thought about his words, and about the way he had behaved.

She winced, hesitated, caught her breath.

He was everything she wanted, as well. Yes, he was gorgeous, tall, bronzed, well muscled, with his striking, rugged and intriguing face. Classical features. Golden eyes. But it wasn’t just the tempting pull of his equally sculpted build.

It was the sea. The things he loved. The way he behaved. Even his bark when he was angry. Even the way he looked at her when he was wary, skeptical. It was in his movement, in his words.

She didn’t step into her own shower. She walked down the hall, knowing which room was his from days gone by. She listened and heard the sound of the water flowing in his shower.

“Sean?” She tentatively pushed open the door to his room and walked through it. The bathroom door was ajar and the water was flowing.

She stepped closer. “Sean?”

The shower curtain jerked open and he looked out, alert and anxious.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, nothing!” she declared quickly. So much for being a femme fatale with a casual and sensual style.

“I—oh, God, I’m not at all good at this. I thought that maybe…we could shower together. I mean the way that you were speaking last night, it didn’t seem quite out of the question,” she said.

His shoulders eased. A broad smile slowly creased his features and he looked down for a moment, and then back to her.

“The shower will work better if you come in naked,” he told her.

She laughed, breathless and more than a little nervous. She slipped from her panties, drew the huge T-shirt over her head and walked over to join him. Unabashedly, he looked her up and down.

“Well, since bathing suits leave little to the imagination, I can’t say that I haven’t noticed the infinitely fine attributes you possess. But reality is far superior to anything I imagined.”

“Where on earth did you get your language skills?” she demanded.

He pulled her under the spray beneath him. The water was warm and delightful. His body was pure fire and magnificent against hers.

“You don’t like my language skills?” he asked.

“No, no, they’re fine! Lovely, really,” she assured him.

“Maybe I should stop speaking,” he said. He did so, pressing his lips down upon hers. The touch was electric, and his kiss was perfect, gentle, tasting at first, his mouth molding to hers. And then, as their bodies crushed closer together, it deepened to something forceful and coercive, volcanic in the rush it created within her. Or maybe it was the molten-steel feel of his body, the rise of his erection against her lower abdomen. All she knew was that what she had started so tentatively was now urgent. While the warm water coursed around them, she felt a buildup of arousal within her that seemed insane and yet so wonderful she wanted to experience it forever.

Their hands moved upon one another. They found the soap, used it, lost it, crashed into one another finding it again. Suds covered them, making their flesh slick and sleek, and then the water rinsed off the suds, and they were together again, just holding each other for a moment beneath the spray. She laid her head against his neck and felt the throb of his pulse. She felt his hand slide down her hip, between her thighs. He lifted her, with the water still sending out spray and steam; he held her high, then brought her down, guiding her down on him. She wound her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist, and he balanced against the fiberglass of the shower as he eased completely into her, his eyes on hers. Then he began to move.

She didn’t know if it was him, if it was the simple fact that they were there, just as they began, with the pounding sound, water and steam, but nothing had ever seemed more erotic to her, and the way that he moved was an arousal unlike any other. She clung to him,
arched and writhed to his lift and fall, and gave herself over to the pure carnal rawness of the experience. Far too soon she realized that she was burning and frantic and climaxing. She felt a final great thrust from him, shuddered, and eased slowly down on him, but he held her against the fiberglass until the sound of the water was just that again and the spray and the mist kept them warm, even as they cooled.

His lips found hers again, wet, hard, wonderful. He kissed her deeply, her wet hair entangled in his fingers.

He groped for the faucet at last, stopping the spray. Still nearly on top of her, his lips just inches away, he said, “Try and get me out of bed at night, hmm?”

“I think that you’re quite lovely in bed, actually,” she said.

“I hope you’ll think I’m even lovelier now.”

She nodded.

“Towels,” he said.

“Pardon?”

“I’ll get towels.”

“Oh, yes, that would be lovely, too.”

He stepped from the shower and produced two towels, large towels, with sailing motifs. She wrapped hers around herself and stepped out into the bedroom. His private quarters were neat. He had books stacked on his bureau, most of them sea charts, or books on great sailing ships, some on diving, and one or two fiction. His furniture was solid mahogany without Victorian carving, more in an old west Mission style. It was a personal place, too, though. Not just bare. There were pictures of dive trips and sailing and foreign shores. On the dresser,
too, sat a family photo: Katie and Sean, their mother and father. It was a wonderful room. Probably because she had just decided sex with Sean was wonderful, everything in the world about him was wonderful, as well.

“How’s the room?” he asked. “Am I passing muster?”

She laughed. “The room, let me see. Solid, manly furniture. Good photos. Good reading material. Sparse and neat—belongs to a man, most obviously, accustomed to tight spaces on a boat. It’s really unbelievable that he still messes up his laundry, but hey, in the list of could-be faults, that is quite a small one.”

“What about the bed?” he inquired.

“Oh, definitely macho. Studly, even. A lovely bed. Something I’d actually love to try out tonight.”

“Why wait for tonight?” he asked her.

Why wait?

Words coming from his lips were as arousing as the most provocative touch….

And it would be rather senseless at this point to argue the feeling…

She turned into his arms. Towels were lost. What was lost from the steam and spray of the shower was found in slow discovery, touch after touch, complete intimacy. There was the wonder of finding every little scar and wound upon his body, learning where it had come from—a dive into shallow water when he had been a kid; a cut from a catfish, oh, so dumb and he knew it; the only fight he’d gotten into in junior high, and, of course, she should have seen the other guy. There was so much laughter, so much sensuality as she kissed each little wound, as he returned the questionnaire, as
they lay entwined until the touches and kisses became breathless and ever more predetermined and purposely provocative, hot and wet and aimed at erogenous zones. They melded together again, holding still for that perfect moment as he thrust deeply into her, then letting basic instinct come into play, the renewed desperation for fulfillment. The sheets became entangled and damp, and still they lay locked together, ever moving, writhing, arching, until the sweet moment of climax burst upon them, and they fell into one another’s arms, damp, depleted, sated and smiling breathlessly. Vanessa listened to the thunder of his heart as it slowed and felt her own, and they seemed to meld, as well.