Ghost Night (25 page)

It looked like a broken shaft of wood. There were clumps and lumps all over it, encrusted in barnacles and sea growth. She reached for it with gloved hands and struggled to pull it free. It gave, but it was heavy.

She banged against the hull of the ship with her dive knife. A second later, Sean came through water toward her, his eyes showing concern through his mask.

She’d never let him know that she had nearly panicked, and thought herself trapped!

She smiled around her regulator and gave him an okay signal. He saw what she had.

He lifted the camera as Bill moved himself through the water to help her grasp the heavy object. He signed to her, and they carried it between them with Sean following. They made their way to the anchor line and moved up to thirty-three feet, waited and moved up again, following the line.

The others had seen them. They begin to ascend, as well.

Jamie was at the dive platform, ready to help them. Vanessa heard Barry say a quick “Oh, shit!” And then he had a camera rolling. Bill climbed out first and shed his tank and BCV in order to help Jamie shift the piece from
the dive platform to the boat. Katie followed, throwing her flippers on board and hauling herself up. Sean was quickly behind her, and she reached for the camera. Soon, they were aboard, and the piece she had found was lying on the stern section of the deck with the group gathered around to stare at it.

“It’s a piece of a mast,” Jamie said.

“And the clumps?” Barry asked.

Jamie stared at Barry, grinning, and then looked at Sean. “Ted and Jaden will have some work to do tonight. Look at the circular patterns. You’ve found a stash of coins, my friends. Gold and silver, I’d wager. And if I’m right, and if our experts can clean them and give us some dates, I think we’ll find that you’re right, Sean. We’ve come upon a debris field of the pirate ship, if not the pirate ship itself.”

Sean turned to Vanessa and pulled her close, planting a huge kiss on her lips.

“You’re amazing!” he told her.

She smiled uneasily.

She had followed the figurehead again.

But the figurehead had nearly trapped her that day. Had it been leading her to treasure?

Or trying to lure her to her death?

“O
h my God!” Jaden cried, delighted with the discovery. “Ted, look…it’s definitely a cache of coins. I’d say it is a piece of the mast. Maybe the new wreck crushed the old wreck. I think that Sean was right, and that it was a long debris field…and still, what’s left of the pirate hull might be there…it’s possible. It’s certainly not
impossible!
”

“This is really fabulous,” Ted said. “The last time I saw something like this it was…wow, it was a display from the
Atocha.
” He turned to Jaden. “We can get started. We brought supplies. I can’t wait to see the dates on the coins and find out what was on that ship. I can’t wait to see the coins. I think there are definitely some cobs attached there—those are bits taken off the gold bars. They could have been stolen from anyone, French, English, Spanish or Americans!” he said excitedly.

They were back on the beach and the heavy piece of mast with its encrusted treasure lay in the center of a tarp while they gathered around it and stared.

“It’s amazing,” Zoe breathed, looking at Vanessa. “And you found this, too?”

“More or less. I was diving with Sean and Bill,” Vanessa said.

“You really missed your calling,” Zoe said.

“Hey, Bahamian or International waters?” Jay asked, looking at Lew.

Lew smiled broadly. “Bahamian! Yeah!”

“Ah, there goes the treasure,” Jay said sadly.

Vanessa stepped back, not really thrilled with the fact that she had once again discovered a find in the water. She couldn’t help but think about Lew’s story—and the things Bartholomew had said.

But…

Say there was a ghost that somehow haunted her in the water. First off, why would Dona Isabella, so cruelly taken and murdered, want to cause evil to anyone?

And second, ghosts didn’t have the power to do what had been done.

She realized that she had backed out of the group, and she was sorry that Sean was so concerned with safety that they couldn’t possibly have a minute alone. Not alone, maybe. But…with just Katie and David.

She started as she stood in the back of the group—something had hit her on the back. She spun around and looked down. A tiny pinecone lay there in the sand. She frowned, and then looked up.

Carlos Roca.

She stared at him. He was real. Alive—and on the island. She couldn’t begin to fathom how he had followed them so easily.

Unless, of course, he was good at that kind of thing.

She looked at him, at the misery in his eyes, at the
pleading within them. She saw that his face had grown gaunt; he looked like a man haunted by a million demons.

He was beckoning to her. He drew a finger to his lips.

She’d be crazy to walk to him in the brush. Alone.

She winced. She wondered if there was such a thing as instinct, and if her belief in the man was actually crazy. After all, he was there.

He hadn’t been killed.

She turned, thinking she could grab Katie or someone.

They were all still discussing the coins. Jaden was explaining how many people used something like an electrode to clean such pieces, but they had always had good luck with certain chemical washes and delicate handwork.

Everyone was staring at the treasure thoughtfully or looking at Jaden.

She hesitated and then took another step back, and another. And when no one noticed her moving at that point, she turned and headed into the brush and the pines.

She had unbuckled her dive knife earlier and shoved it into the pocket of her jeans, and she had her jeans on now….

Right. Like a dive knife could save her against the maniac who had decapitated and dismembered two people!

She entered a tree-shaded trail, and felt as if a mist and darkness gathered around her. It did not; it was just that the sun wasn’t penetrating through the pines.

“Carlos?” she said softly.

He stepped out in front of her.

“Jesus Cristo!” he said, and crossed himself. “I have been waiting for you. I have tried so hard to reach you. I need for you to understand.”

There had been so much commotion over Vanessa’s discovery that they had finally broken to go about different tasks when Sean realized that he didn’t see Vanessa anywhere in the group. He saw Katie laying towels over one of the support ropes for her tent to dry, and he hurried over to her. “Katie! Where’s Vanessa?”

“What? Well, she was there with the rest of us, listening to Jaden, and then…”

Her voice trailed away and she stared at him with fear in her eyes.

Sean was afraid that she was going to scream or alert the others. He was terrified that she had been dragged into the pine woods and brush, and he quickly looked around the encampment, searching for members of the original film team.

Zoe was with Bill, preparing the barbecue. Barry was showing Jay the fish he had caught that afternoon while they’d been diving—two snappers and a medium-size grouper.

David came over as he searched the group.

“What’s wrong?” David asked.

“Vanessa,” Sean said.

“I’ll help you search.”

“No—I’ll find her. Make sure that everyone else stays around here, David.”

“Right. If you’re not back in ten minutes, though, I’ll send Liam and Jamie after you.”

Sean nodded and hurried back toward the pines. There was a trail—small and overgrown, but it had been traveled recently.

He ran down the trail, afraid to call her name and afraid not to, his heart thundering. He reminded himself that he was certain that the murders had not been committed by one person alone, that whoever had done it had to have had some assistance.

And they were all back at the beach. All of them except for Vanessa. Lew Sanderson had been there as well, rinsing dive gear with Jamie on the
Claddagh.
Carlos Roca.

He was alive. He had been in Key West. He had followed them to Miami.

And now he was here. On the island.

And he had Vanessa.

He drew out the .38 Special he had stuffed under his jacket and kept moving as quietly as he could along the trail. Visions of what might have happened plagued the back of his mind.

Vanessa. Down on the sand, beautiful blond hair trailing out over it.

Eyes open with horror…

He was about to scream out her name, scream with a desperation that would be heard throughout the island.

He bit back the cry and hurried onward, then paused, listening.

He heard conversation. Hushed. Two people. Whispering. To his right.

He broke through the trees and brush then and burst upon the two of them—Vanessa, perfectly fine, standing in the clearing with her arm on Carlos Roca’s shoulder, as if she had been urging him to do something.

He aimed the .38 Special at Carlos Roca’s head and said flatly, “I spent time at target practice before the trip. At this distance, I can guarantee a clean shot between your eyes. Step away from Vanessa. Now.”

Roca instantly moved to do so.

And Vanessa stepped in front of him, lifting a pleading hand to Sean.

“No, no, please, Sean! Carlos is innocent. He’s been desperate all this time. He’s been following us—at great risk to himself—determined to keep anything horrible from happening again.”

Sean grated down on his teeth, tension bracing his muscles. “Vanessa, get away from him.”

“Sean! You have to listen.”

“Fine. Carlos, we’ll walk back to the encampment. And you can talk to everyone there.”

Carlos looked at Vanessa.

“No, Sean, please, no!” Vanessa begged.

He eased the gun down, still ready to lift it again if need be. He didn’t want to keep it aimed at Vanessa.

“Please! Sean!” Vanessa pleaded again, wincing. “Sean—we can’t let anyone know that Carlos is here. He’s watching…watching after us. Sean, listen to him.”

“It’s one of them,” Carlos said quietly and with dignity. “It’s one of them. We were barely out at sea when I was attacked at the helm. I never saw who was there. I was struck so hard I went down. I was tossed overboard,
and somehow, by the grace of God, the cold woke me up. I was dazed, my head was bleeding. I don’t remember much else. I swam. I found a piece of driftwood and clung to it. I came to on one of the small islands, tended by a fisherman’s wife. Then, I found out that
I
was wanted for murder. I have a Bahamian friend who got me a false ID claiming that I’m a fisherman from the Dominican Republic. I have been trying to find out what did happen ever since, lying low…and studying disappearances in the air and acts of piracy.”

“Why should we believe you?” Sean asked, not moving, his voice cold and steely. “Why should I believe that this isn’t a game you’re playing, that you don’t have an accomplice among the crew, and that if I keep the secret that you’re here, you won’t be waiting for the right time to kill again?”

“You can ask Lew,” Carlos said quietly. “I told you, I came to on a Bahamian island. The people who found me were decent people. They contacted him and got him to come to me. He was there to see the fifty stitches in my head. He knows that I’m telling the truth. The night I left with Georgia, one of them either hid on the boat or found a way onto the boat. I was attacked from behind. God help me, the person just wanted Georgia. I sleep at night, still hearing her screaming!”

Sean still stared at Carlos. He saw that Vanessa believed in the man, believed with every fiber of her being.

She had from the start.

If he was innocent, he was a valuable ally on the island. He was the unknown that they could have in their favor.

And if he wasn’t…

He was aware that Bartholomew was at his side.

“I believe he’s telling the truth. I followed Vanessa into the woods. There were tears in his eyes. He pleaded. No man is that good an actor,” Bartholomew said.

“Someone was on the boat. When you left, who did you see on the dock?” Sean asked.

“Vanessa and Jay. I saw them both,” Carlos said.

“That wouldn’t mean that either of them was innocent—they might have been an accomplice to whomever slipped aboard. Or are you certain that they slipped aboard before you left? Could someone have come broadside and slipped on?”

Carlos took a deep breath. “It was night. I was moving slowly.”

“You have to make a decision,” Bartholomew said. “Someone will be coming after you within a few minutes now.”

Vanessa came hurrying toward him. She caught his hand and stared into his eyes. “He’s telling the truth. I know that he’s telling the truth.”

“How?” he grated.

“I know. I know!” she said, slamming a fist against her chest. “Sometimes…you
know.
”

Sean stared at Carlos over Vanessa’s head. “If you’re not telling the truth, you’re a dead man.”

“I am telling the truth. And I am watching. And I am waiting, unknown now, to find out who did this. Because they are here, and they will strike again,” Carlos said.

Sean winced and turned, sliding the safety on and the gun beneath his jacket and waistband, and taking Vanessa’s hand. When they neared the beach, he slowed
his pace and came out of the trees calmly, hoping no one but Katie and David had noticed their absence.

Miraculously, it seemed that no one had. Zoe, Barry, Bill and Jake were standing around the barbecue, chatting excitedly. Jay was staring out at the water. Jamie, Marty, Ted and Jaden were still inspecting the mast and the cache of coins.

Only Liam stood tensely with Katie and David, trying to pretend casual conversation.

“We’ll need somewhere alone—guaranteed alone,” Sean said quietly. “Liam, how have you been doing on that task I asked you about yesterday?”

“Hopefully, I’ll have some information back by the morning,” Liam said.

“We’re going to need it,” Sean told him.

Liam looked at Vanessa, frowning. “What the hell is going on?” he demanded.

“Let’s take a walk to the
Conch Fritter,
” he suggested. He turned and stared at Vanessa. “All of us!”

She nodded, and the group walked toward the boat.

“Hey!” Barry called after them.

“Yeah?” Sean yelled back.

“Bring another bag of charcoal, will you please?” Barry asked.

Sean nodded.

Aboard the boat, he looked back to shore, assuring himself that the others had remained behind. Then he looked at Vanessa. “Why don’t you tell them? You’re the one with complete faith.”

She stared at him, and then at David, Liam and Katie. “Carlos Roca is on the island.”

Liam stiffened. “All right. We’ll figure out a way to
keep you safe while we flush him out. No one is more fierce at protection than Jamie O’Hara, and between Sean, David and me—”

“No, Liam, no!” Vanessa said. “He’s hiding. He’s watching out—for us.”

“He said he was attacked on the ship, and he knows it had to be by one of the crew. He was struck on the head. He says Lew Sanderson will vouch for all this. He’s been keeping his secret all this time. He was tossed overboard, assumed dead or left to drown.”

“This is crazy,” David said.

“Vanessa, can
Lew
actually be an alibi? You don’t know that Lew wasn’t guilty,” Liam pointed out.

“Oh, please, I can’t believe that Carlos is lying.” She stared at them all. “Ask Bartholomew!
Your friendly neighborhood ghost
believes in him. We all know that faith can’t be held or seen, and I have faith in Carlos.”

“I hope you’re right, Vanessa,” Liam said softly. “I really hope you’re right. If not, you’ve just fed into the psychosis of a savage murderer.”

“Vanessa?” Katie asked.

“I know I’m right.”

“I’ll tell Uncle Jamie what’s going on, and he’ll let Marty know,” Sean said.

David nodded. “What do you think he’s waiting for?” he asked.

“The murderers to show themselves,” Sean said.

“And how will they do that?” Liam asked dryly.

“They’ll try to find a way to separate someone from the rest—and murder them, as well,” Sean said.

Liam nodded. “Somehow, we’ll have to find a way to bait them.”

That night, Vanessa knew that Sean was still angry with her.