Ghost Shadow

12

The night sergeant on duty was ready to bring them in. David had called Liam, and Liam, who had just left for the evening, called Pete Dryer, who had left just a bit earlier, and the result was that both men would be returning to the station.

Clarinda sat in the waiting area, shaking her head at Katie. “I feel as if I’ve just been brought in on some kind of a sting. Look around, will you?”

There was an odd assortment of people in the station that night. There was a drunk who was crying in the arms of another drunk.

A junkie.

A belligerent fellow being held on a drunk-driving charge.

It was hopping.

Fantasy Fest was all but here.

Liam Beckett came back through the door first. His white polo shirt bore a police insignia and he was in neat work khakis. He was totally professional, shaking hands with Mike Sanderson and thanking him for coming in on a voluntary basis. Pete came through the doorway just a minute later, looking worn-as he should. One of the city’s most important and biggest festivals was on the way, and a murderer was loose in the city.

Pete nodded at David. “Thanks. Thanks for talking this fellow into coming in. We can take this from here, David.”

For a moment, David looked as if he didn’t want to move. Then he nodded. “Of course,” he said.

But as they started out, he held back for a minute. “Hang on, I just have to catch Liam quickly.”

He went back in before Katie could try to stop him.

“Oh, Lord-is he coming back out, do you think?” Clarinda asked.

“I think,” Katie said.

“Umm, maybe not,” Jonas said after a minute.

Just when Katie was about to give up, David came out. He was smiling. He slipped an arm around her shoulders and one around Clarinda’s shoulders. “Where shall we go for dinner?” he asked.

“Umm-anywhere,” Jonas said.

“I’m not so sure we can get in anywhere,” Clarinda said. “The city is teeming.”

“O’Hara’s,” Katie said dryly. “I can always get in there.”

Clarinda laughed. “My night off! But that’s all right-I do know they have good food.”

“And we can park in back there, too. I know the owner,” Katie pointed out.

The evening ended, oddly enough, on a good note. Jonas was fascinated with photography, and David talked about different places he had been. Jonas pointed out that with all that David did, now was the time for him to go back and do some shots and film work in his own backyard. “My God, think about it. We’ve got more wildlife and shipwrecks than a dog has fleas,” Jonas pointed out.

“You know, that’s odd,” Clarinda noted. “David, you and Sean wound up going into just about the same thing. You’ve been very successful with your still work and Sean’s usually doing video or film or whatever. Do you ever work with video?”

David nodded. “I love both. Still life is capturing a single moment with the subject, light and characters just right. But film is great-it’s life in motion, or dust motes moving through the air. Last year, I did some work in Australia, filming oceanographers searching for one of the really well-preserved wrecks recently discovered there.”

“But have you and Sean worked together?” Jonas asked.

David shook his head. “I haven’t seen Sean in ten years,” he said. “We keep up with e-mail now and then, but we’ve never worked on the same project.”

Jon Merrillo, Jamie O’Hara’s main manager in his absence, stopped by the table. He was about forty, and hadn’t been in the Keys very long. He had taken to the area like a native; he loved it, and never wanted to go back North.

“You guys can’t get enough of this place, huh?” he teased.

“I just love a night when the drunks aren’t pestering me!” Clarinda told him.

“Hey, we don’t let drunks pester folks here, Clarinda, and you know I’d never let that happen,” Jon said.

“I do know, Jon.”

Jon nodded. “Hey, Katie, have you talked with your uncle Jamie?” he asked her.

She felt guilty. She shook her head. “No, but I have spoken with Sean. Sean is coming home-I expect by tomorrow.”

“Well, it will be good to see Sean. I’ll give Jamie a call myself tomorrow. I figured he’d want to be back by the end of the week. It’s already getting insane.”

He left them. Clarinda sighed. “Ah, well, so much for my plans for a lovely sunset and dinner on the water.”

“We’ll try again later in the week,” Katie said.

Clarinda sniffed. “I get next Monday off and that’s it-we’re heading straight into ten days of events and pure mayhem.”

“So, we’ll go next Monday,” David assured her.

They finished with their coffee and the Key lime pie-really homemade-that Katie had talked them all into ordering. In the car, Jonas asked, “Should I drop Katie, we’ll see her in safely, and then drop you, David?”

Clarinda smacked him on the arm. “Don’t be ridiculous. Just go to Katie’s place. David is staying there. This is not a time for pretense of any kind. Katie should not be alone, and that’s that.”

“Aha,” Jonas said. He looked at David and David nodded.

Jonas left them at Katie’s house, and they waved goodbye. They could still hear the loud sounds of revelry coming from Duval Street. “Kind of like Christmas, huh?” David asked. “Fantasy Fest starts just a little bit earlier every year.”

“We need to be glad. We do survive off tourism,” Katie pointed out.

“Yep. I guess I have been gone a long time,” David noted.

They walked into the house. Katie moved ahead, into the kitchen. “You know, it’s interesting that Danny Zigler was reading about the history of Key West. I mean, he grew up down here, we all heard it all the time.”

“We heard the history-but Danny must have had a reason to want to learn more about it.”

Bartholomew thought so, too. So did she.

Katie made a mental note to pursue that theory the following day. “Do you think that something happened in the far past that might have had something to do with Tanya’s murder? Is that why her body was left in the museum?”

“I don’t know. Oh, by the way, I gave the credit card we found to Liam and told him that I was pretty sure that the stuff on the card was ice cream. I don’t know what is going on, but sure, maybe something from the past can explain it all. Tanya was from the area, and her family went way back-I don’t know. I just don’t know. But, I intend to find out. I’ll start reading the books tomorrow,” David said.

She had started to pick up the kettle. “Want some tea or something?” she asked.

He took the kettle from her hands and set it back on the range top. He pulled her into his arms. “Yes…I want to bury myself in you, and forget the world, and even my own obsessions for the night,” he told her. “I mean, of course, if you don’t mind.”

She smiled. She stared up at him, wondering how she could feel so mesmerized by the sound of his voice and the feel of his arms.

She threaded her fingers through his dark hair and met his eyes. “You’re good, you know,” she teased. “Very good.”

“Oh?”

“Eloquent.”

“With words?”

“Oh, very.”

“Really? It gets worse. I was thinking that I could die in the radiant sunset of your hair, drown in the sea of your eyes.”

“My eyes are kind of hazel-green.”

“I’ve seen our waters blue and green, every shade between, and even dark and wild and wicked when storms are coming through.”

“Very eloquent.”

“And strong, too,” he assured her.

“Really?”

He swept her up into his arms.

Her world was in turmoil; he was still, she was certain, to others, a person of interest in a murder case-or cases. He was obsessed with the truth.

But at that moment, it didn’t matter. The world was holding still, and the world was pure magic. Wonderful, carnal, hot, wet magic.

“Strong, too,” she agreed.

They fell into her bed so easily. So quickly, naturally. Clothing only half off, they were kissing and removing tangles of clothes. She was aware of him as she had never been before, the sound of his breathing, every movement of his muscles, twist and turn, the beating of his heart. He was an experienced lover, and she didn’t want to think of anything that had come before in his life, or in her own. She just wanted to feel. And it was so easy. He knew where to touch, and where to kiss, and where to tease most sensuously with his tongue and teeth. Movements could be so tempestuous and passionate, and then just a breath or a whisper against her skin could send her spinning into a new spiral of arousal.

He kissed along her breasts. Ribs and abdomen. Teased beneath her thighs.

Moved ever more erotically.

And when she nearly reached a pinnacle, he would pause, just to lead her upward again, until she was frantic, returning every whispered breath, every touch, seeking to crawl into his very flesh, writhe and arch in absolute unison and abandon.

Eventually they lay together sated, exhausted and replete, and still touching while the cool air moved over their flesh.

She curled more closely to him.

“Ever so eloquent, in so many ways!” she whispered to him.

“Aye, but you make it so very easy to speak ever so ardently!” he assured her.

Smiling, she lay against him, and slept.

An hour later, she opened her eyes.

A breeze was blowing.

A breeze shouldn’t have been blowing. The windows were all closed.

But…

She thought that her drapes were billowing, blowing inward.

A bolt of lightning flashed across the sky.

And for a moment, it seemed that Danny Zigler was standing there. Standing there-just outside her window. He couldn’t have been; her bedroom was on the second floor. There was no balcony beyond it. There was just…air.

She gasped, blinking.

She bolted up, and next to her, David bolted up, as well.

“What is it?”

“The window!” she said.

He jumped out of bed and went over to the window. The drapes were flat; there was no breeze. He moved the drapes.

The window was closed. And bolted.

He turned back to her in the shadows of night.

“David…I’m sorry. I must have had a nightmare,” she said. “I’m truly sorry to have wakened you.”

“That’s all right. It’s all right, perfectly all right,” he assured her, climbing back in bed with her and taking her into his arms. “I’m probably the reason you’re having nightmares,” he said, smoothing her hair back.

She felt cold, chilled, and yet he was warming her.

She didn’t speak, she just curled against him.

He wasn’t the reason for her nightmares, she might have said. He was far more a dream of something real and wonderful.

But time here and now was suspended; she didn’t know where it could take him, and pride was a wonderful thing. Something that was great to cling to-when the warmth went away. If it went away. She just didn’t know what the future would bring.

She lay silent.

She drifted off, and it wasn’t until morning that she opened her eyes and really wondered about what had happened the night before. What she had seen in her mind’s eye, or in her soul, or with the strange gift/curse that was just part of who she was.

A sense of dread and pain filled her.

Danny Zigler was dead.

Coffee had already brewed when David came down the stairs. He was surprised; he’d never seen her set a timer the previous night, but the coffee was good.

He had come down quietly, trying not to wake Katie after slipping into Sean’s room for a shower. He didn’t dress, just put on a towel, but swept up his clothing, needing his cell phone, which was in the back pocket of his jeans.

It had seemed that Katie had tossed and turned much of the night. He didn’t want to awaken her until she was ready; she might want to sleep late. He didn’t want to leave the door unlocked, but he was also anxious to get to his house-they’d left the books there.

But he could at least make phone calls.

After he poured himself coffee, he called Liam.

“So?” he asked his cousin.

“So, we spent a couple of hours with Mike Sanderson. I have a bunch of computer geeks following all the information he gave me. He said that he wasn’t in Key West when Tanya was killed, that he had gone up to Miami, and he can surely find the charge-card slips to prove that he’d taken a room-and if he can’t find them, we can get them from the credit-card company. We found the one for St. Augustine, but not Miami, and he claims he had a bunch of student cards.”

“Even if he was in Miami, it’s a three- or three-and-a-half-hour drive down. You could easily book a room in Miami and come back down here.”

“It’s possible. But I’m not taking Mike Sanderson to be a boy genius. I just don’t see him renting a room, getting down here, killing Tanya and getting her into the museum.”

“Do you see Danny Zigler managing such a feat?” David demanded.

“Don’t know. We still can’t find hide nor hair of Danny Zigler,” Liam told him. “He didn’t show up for work as a tour guide last night. We’re getting a search warrant to go through his house.”

“Did you pick up the kid? Lewis Agaro?”

“Picked him up and questioned him. And I had the lab analyze the substance on the credit card. It was sticky, and might have given us a clue as to where Stella had gone once she took the card. Of course, the kid might have gotten the stuff on the card himself, but we can’t leave anything to chance. Have to follow up on everything.”

“It was chocolate ice cream,” David said.

“How did you know?”

“I just do. I think Stella was pretty tight with Danny Zigler, which, of course, doesn’t mean anything. She might have seen Danny, and she might not have,” David said. “But I believe Danny knows something.”

“Like what?”

“I went into his place. He was researching Key West, and had thousands of dollars in one of the books he was using. Liam, for now, let’s not let this get out to others, or to the press.”

Liam laughed. “I can’t! I’d have to admit my cousin was guilty of breaking and entering.”

“I didn’t break anything,” David assured him.

“Pete has called the D.A. about getting a warrant to get in there, but if Danny has been guilty of…something, he wants it all by the book. I’m assuming a warrant is coming soon,” Liam said. “But-you didn’t leave fingerprints anywhere, did you?”

“No. Don’t worry-I watch TV.”

“Great.”

“So how did it go with the kid? Was he able to give you anything?”

“No-I don’t believe he’s guilty of anything other than a wild crush on a wicked older woman,” Liam said. “Now that you’ve told me about Danny Zigler’s apartment and the money…what the hell do you think is going on?”

“I think that Danny is dead. He knew something. He was blackmailing someone, or someone was paying him off for his silence in some way, shape or form.”

“Then why would he be dead now?”

“I believe that he suspected or knew something before-and that he might have pieced whatever it was together-and knew who killed Stella. Liam, I know you’re a cop, a detective, and that you have to carry on an active investigation. But you only know about that because I’m guilty of a crime, so until you get that search warrant, can you keep what I’ve told you to yourself for your own investigation?”

“You’re asking me to… Ah, hell. I’ll follow whatever angles I can on that in confidence-for now.”

“Thanks. Do you know anything else? What about forensics?”

“I’m pretty sure you know what I do. She wasn’t violated-she’d had sex with condoms, don’t know how much, but there was no evidence of sexual force or violence of any kind. She had chicken nuggets and fries for dinner. Oh-this is new. We had known, of course, that the killer wore gloves and took the women by surprise. But the lab found bits of cells that might help us eventually-amara.”

“Amara? It’s a synthetic leather, used in making warm-water dive gloves,” David said.

“Right. Our killer wears dive gloves.”

“Half of Key West might own dive gloves with amara,” David said.

“True.” Liam sighed. “Look, at this point, it eliminates half of Key West, so that’s good. Oh, yeah, the gloves have silicone on the fingertips. That might narrow down the brand. Look, I’m grabbing at every straw out there, and so is the entire force.”

“Are you holding anyone?”

“We still have Sanderson, but we can only keep him until tonight. He hasn’t called an attorney, because we aren’t going to call his wife-unless we find something on him. I let the kid, Lewis Agaro, go. I don’t think he’s staying for Fantasy Fest anymore. It was his first year down here as a twenty-one-year-old. Guess he’s going to be looking back at being underaged as the good old days.”

“Maybe. All right. Keep me posted. I’ll do the same.”

“You’re keeping an eye on Katie, I take it?” Liam asked.

“Absolutely,” David said.

His cousin was silent.

“What, you disapprove?” David asked.

“She deserves more.”

“Thanks.”

“No, I mean she deserves more than someone who is just using her while trying to chase away the ghosts of his past. Sorry, you might want to belt me for that, but it’s the truth.”

David hesitated. “Did I move in on anything?” he asked.

“No, she and I are friends, good friends. She’d deserve a lot better than me, too-all I seem to do these days is work. You’re leaving, David. You know you’re leaving. So keep it honest, huh?”

“I am honest,” David assured him. He hung up, reflecting.

He was honest, wasn’t he? Or was anything about him really honest? What he felt was. The need to leave this place had been just as basic. What did he feel now? He didn’t know. He’d been a lot of places-he’d hit every continent, every ocean.

And now?

He tensed, hearing something at the door. He tightened his towel and looked around instinctively for a weapon.

As he did so, Katie came tearing down the stairs from her room-heading straight for the door. “Katie!” he warned.

He grabbed the coffeepot; he wasn’t going to be able to stop her.

She was already throwing the door open.

Sean O’Hara stood there.

It had been ten years, but Sean had changed little. He was tall, well built, redheaded, lithe and muscular. He’d made an amazing running back during their high-school days.

He had a backpack on, and two huge duffel bags sat by his feet.

“Sean!” Katie said, and threw herself in her brother’s arms.

Awkward as hell! David thought. He hadn’t ever intended to lie, he’d never meant any harm to anyone, nor did he feel any need to apologize. He and Katie were definitely adults now, and they had chosen to be together.

He just hadn’t planned on wearing a towel when he first saw Sean.

“Katie O’Hara!” Sean said, sweeping her up and spinning her around as he came into the room. He let out a fake groan. “Wait, give it a minute, I’m getting old now, and you and the backpack at the same time… Nope, nope don’t think so!”

“I’m so glad you’re home!” she told him, standing, righting herself and stepping back. “I thought you’d call me, though, and tell me you were in the state.”

“Hey, you have a cell phone, too.”

“Yeah, but it never works when I try to call you!”

“All right, well, I’m here, and-” Sean’s voice broke off sharply. He stared at David. David realized that he was still holding the coffeepot. He set it on the range and stepped forward, his arm extended.

“Sean. Good to see you.”

He didn’t think that Sean was going to accept this situation easily; he was just stunned. He shook David’s hand.

But then he stepped back. He looked from Katie to David, and back to Katie. Then David again.

“What the hell? What the hell is going on here?” he demanded. He lifted a hand. “No, no, no, wait. I don’t want gory details, I can see what the hell is going on. The question is…what the hell is the matter with you? David, hell, this is my baby sister! Katie-the man could be a murderer. Sorry, David, no real offense meant, but by statistics… You idiots!” he finished.

“Sean, your ‘baby’ sister is in her midtwenties, and capable of making choices and decisions,” David said. “And I’m not a murderer, and frankly, no offense, our sleeping arrangements aren’t any of your business.”

“The hell they’re not!” Sean exploded. He wasn’t a redhead of Irish lineage for nothing, David decided. “Katie is-my sister!”

“Sean, this is my choice,” Katie pleaded. “And David was one of your friends-a good friend, until you more or less deserted him and turned against him like everyone else.”

“Katie,” David said, grating his teeth, “thanks, but don’t defend me. Look, Sean, I care about your sister a great deal. I believe she feels the same way about me.”

Sean didn’t answer him. He turned on Katie. “I did not turn my back on David,” he protested. “I never deserted anyone.” He looked at David. “We’ve been in contact through the years, off and on. I have never turned on a friend.”

“Sean, I never suggested that you turned on me,” David said. “Look, Sean, honest to God, I mean no offense, and certainly no disrespect here. I care about your sister, a great deal.”

“And there’s a murderer loose in the city again,” Katie said quietly.

“You’re sleeping with him for protection?” Sean said.

“No!” Katie said, horrified. “No, oh, Lord, Sean, will you please…chill! Let’s get your stuff. Have some coffee-give me a minute to take a shower and get dressed. You and David talk-you haven’t actually seen each other in a decade. Talk. Don’t either of you go defending me or my honor in any way, do you understand?” she demanded.

“He’s wearing a towel!” Sean said. “And we’re not in the high-school gym anymore.”

“I have clothing,” David assured him. With dignity, he swept up his shirt and jeans-desperately glad that he had needed his phone and so taken his clothing from Katie’s room-and headed into the downstairs half bath. When he emerged, Sean had brought his bags in. They were dumped in the hall. Sean was sitting on one of the bar stools, a cup of coffee gripped in his hand.

Sean glowered at David. “So. Now a prostitute named Stella Martin has been found dead at a different museum in a similar pose. Fill me in,” Sean said.

David told him what he could. There wasn’t much.

“Danny Zigler?” Sean said. “He’s weird enough-but he’s a runt. And not the sharpest knife in the drawer.”

“Danny didn’t do it,” David said.

“And you know that because?”

“I don’t think that Danny had the strength to kill with his bare hands.”

“Even if he suffocated his victims first?”

“Suffocating, you still fight. I think the killer had to be big.”

“Our size,” Sean said dryly.

“Yeah. Our size.”

Sean shook his head. “And…Katie is the one who showed you the area where she thought that Stella had been killed.”

“Yes.”

“She didn’t say…or do…anything weird, did she?” Sean asked.

“What do you mean by that?” David asked.

“Nothing, nothing.” Sean stared at David. He was still frowning.

“Sean, I have never felt about anyone the way that I feel about Katie,” he said flatly.

“That was fast,” Sean said, his tone dubious.

“You’re her brother.”

“Remember that fact.”

“Fast, slow, whatever, it’s the truth.”

“So, you suddenly love her and you’re going to give up a life of fame and fortune to come home and live the easy life of an islander and raise a passel of little conchs?” Sean mocked.

“I don’t know what will happen in the future,” David said. “I’m telling you that I take nothing about your sister lightly, and that we are emotionally entangled and not just opting for something like a best-friends-with-benefits deal.”

Sean looked away and nodded. “Sorry. She is my sister. And I did walk in to find a man who had been a good friend-and a suspect in a murder-in a towel in my house.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

Katie came hurrying down the stairs. “So, do you know everything that’s happened on the island since you’ve been gone?” she asked him.

Sean glanced over at David. “I haven’t been gone for a decade-I was here at Christmas,” he reminded her.

“I’m talking about-well, I guess I’m talking about Stella Martin,” Katie said lamely. “And the past,” she admitted.

Sean let out a sigh of aggravation. “Katie, I told you to stay out of it all.”

“Sean, you’re not my keeper. And thank God-you’re never here. So don’t go all protective on me now!”

“Why are you letting her get into danger?” Sean asked David.

“I’m not letting her into danger-I’m trying to stay with her as much as I can to make sure that she’s not alone,” David said.

“Well, I’m home now,” Sean said.

“Hey!” Katie protested. “Hey, I did fine on my own without either of you, so don’t you two go getting the testosterone thing going and try to manage me, either of you!”

She stared at the two of them.

Sean looked at David.

“I’ll make sure I’m with her when you’re not,” he said.

“She shouldn’t be alone. And there will be times…when I might be worried about her,” David admitted.

“Hey!” Katie protested.

David’s phone started to ring again. He snapped it open. “David?”

The voice was sweet and feminine. And old.

“Aunt Alice!” he said, his heart sinking.

“David, you are here. And you haven’t been by.”

Alice and Esther were actually his great-aunts. They had never been anything but patient and kind, and he knew that they loved him, that his leaving had hurt them and that he had been a selfish ass not to have taken the time yet to see them. They were both octogenarians now, with Esther closing in on ninety.

He loved them both.

They were incredible storytellers; they knew the island far better than any teacher he had ever had in high school.

“David?”

“I know. I know. I’m so sorry,” he said.

“Well,” Alice told him, “we’ve heard all about that dreadful business with another poor woman murdered. Your cousin Liam has been terribly busy, and he’s said you’ve helped out with talking to folks, but…we were hoping you could stop by for some lunch.”

Katie and Sean were staring at him, curious. As he looked at them, they looked away, embarrassed at inadvertently eavesdropping.

“May I bring a few old friends?” he asked.

“Well, of course, David! When haven’t we welcomed your friends?” Alice asked.

Katie had thought that Sean was going to refuse the invitation to David’s aunts’ house, but he was determined at the moment to stay close to her, she realized. It was good that her brother cared, she thought.

And irritating.

He had rented a two-seater convertible in Miami.

“I didn’t know I could possibly need more than two seats,” he said.

“My car is in the drive-just move your rental, mine is the obvious choice,” Katie told him.

“We can walk,” David said.

“They’re past the cemetery-it’s almost a mile. Let’s just drive,” Sean said. He was coming with them, but it was obvious that he was tired.

So they drove, Katie at the wheel. She slowed down as they passed the cemetery, trying to drive and see what spirits might be about in the bright light.

As ever, the beautiful, spectral figure of Elena de Hoyos moved among the graves.

She saw no one else.

“What are you doing?” Sean asked her sharply.

“Driving,” she replied.

She pressed harder on the gas pedal. Past the cemetery two blocks, she turned the corner and came to the beautiful old Victorian where Alice and Esther Beckett, spinster sisters, had lived most of their lives. As she pulled into the drive, the two came hurrying out the door and down the porch steps.

She recognized them; they were known throughout Key West and the islands. They had been born rich, and they had used their money wisely and well all their lives, helping with every cause in the world. They gave money to several churches-Alice was quite certain that God didn’t discriminate between minor differences in worship-as well as animal-rescue leagues and all the medical charities for every organ in the human body. They were truly loved.

They both rushed to David as he exited the car, fawning over him with hugs and kisses. They knew Sean as well, chiding him for not coming by when he was in town. Sean, perhaps feeling a bit of guilt, flushed and told them that he was seldom in town-he and David did similar work.

At last it was Katie’s turn, and she received an abundance of love as well, even if she had never visited the house at all.

“My Lord! Sean’s sister! Oh, my goodness, well, Jamie O’Hara’s niece, of course. What a beauty!” Alice gushed. “Even more so than your mother, and oh, my, Esther, remember how lovely and sweet she was. I understand your parents have moved from the house, but when they’re home, you must beg them to stop by, too. Sadly, we tend to be such hermits these days.”

“We’re just horrible,” Esther said. “And, oh, how I miss your grandfather, David. The world is a far sadder place with Craig gone.”

“He was certainly the best and finest man,” David agreed.

“Well, well, we’re standing around here outside when lunch is waiting!” Alice chastised.

“Come along in,” Esther urged Katie, taking her by the arm.

They were all introduced to a woman named Betsy, an attractive thirtysomething Bahamian who tended to the elderly sisters’ needs. She had already set up lunch on what the sisters referred to as their spring porch, a back porch with a tiled floor and screened windows that caught the sea breezes.

Lunch was a feast. Salad with berries and nuts, blackened grouper, vegetarian pasta-just in case-and all manner of fresh-baked breads.

The conversation was light at first as David and Sean talked about a few of their foreign exploits with photography and film, and Katie explained how she had wanted to come home to live, and thus formed her corporation, Katie-oke.

They were delighted.

“I used to carry quite a melody in my day!” Alice assured her.

“Ever hear a honking swan?” Esther asked.

“Esther!” Alice chastised.

“I’m teasing you, dear, of course!” Esther said. “My sister still has a lovely voice for a torch song.”

“I’ll have to get you in there,” Katie told her.

“Well, certainly, but not until Fantasy Fest is over,” Alice said.

Later, when pecan pie had been served, they moved out to the parlor for “a touch of sherry,” as Alice phrased it.

“Excellent for the constitution,” Esther assured them.

“What is that, Aunt Alice?” David asked, pointing to a large ledgerlike book that sat atop the mantel.

“That?” Alice replied. “That is our family history, young man. It’s always been there. You’ve never asked before.”

“May I?” he asked.

“Certainly. We’ve been here forever-but then your family has, too, Katie, Sean.”

David stood and brought the large, embossed book back to the sofa. “How old is this thing?” he asked.

“Oh, it was started in the eighteen twenties,” Aunt Esther said. “The first fellow to write in it was Craig Beckett-not your grandfather, David, of course.”

“He was quite a man, from all accounts,” Alice said proudly.

“Craig Beckett?” Katie said. She wanted to see the book herself. Actually, she wanted to take it right out of David’s hand. “He was a sea captain, right?”

“Yes, dear, he was. He sailed for Commodore Perry, and then for David Porter. In fact, the name David came into our family because of David Porter. Craig was admired far and wide. He could take down pirates-but he wasn’t a cruel man. I mean, many a pirate was hanged here, of course, but if a man could prove himself a privateer, Craig Beckett always showed mercy. He was strong, and he was fair.”

David was turning pages carefully. The ledger was nearly two hundred years old. It hadn’t been kept under glass-it was part of the family’s heritage, and Katie was certain that both aunts had read it through and through.

“Ah, well, look-he writes it himself. He had a fellow named Smith hanged. Seems like Smith was a bit of a bastard. Attacked a ship and killed all aboard-then saw another man hanged for the deed.” David closed the book, carefully set it back on the mantel, and turned to his aunts. “That was wonderful. I’ll be in town for a while, at least. Next time, I’ll take you out.”

Sean rose and Katie followed suit. The aunts stood as well, ready to walk their guests to the door.

“David, darling, you must come here again, too-anytime. You’re family, and we do love you so!” Esther told him.

“Of course. But I want to take you out.”

“I’m afraid it will have to be somewhere quiet these days,” Esther said. “We’ll talk!”

They both stood on tiptoe to kiss David then Sean goodbye. When they came to hug Katie, she asked, “Would you two trust me to take your ledger for a few days? I would absolutely love to read it. I’ll be very careful with it.”

“Well, of course!” Ester said. “We’ll be delighted for you to read it.”

“And we know you’ll take care with it,” Alice said.

She thanked them. Sean looked at her and rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “I’m going to be careful!” she whispered to him.

“It’s a bit frightening, borrowing a family treasure,” Sean said, aware that the others were looking at the two of them.

“Katie, I know you’ll take it home and take good care of it,” Alice said. “We’re not worried in the least.”

“I’ll defend it with my life,” Katie promised.

“Good Lord, don’t do that, child,” Alice said, smiling. “Your life is worth far more.”

A minute later, they were in the car, heading back. One of the streets was blocked for construction; Katie hadn’t intended on coming down Duval with its throngs of tourists, but she did so.

“Good God, what is that?” Sean demanded from the backseat.

“What?” she asked. Her eyes were on the road. Tourists didn’t have the sense to look before they stepped off the sidewalk.

A red light allowed her the chance to look. One of the shops had a Robert the Doll mannequin out in front, except it was oversize.

“A balloon?” Sean asked, puzzled.

David was looking out the window, as well. “No, I think it might be canvas, but it’s got some kind of an inner structure, wood or metal. Damn, that’s ugly.”

Katie kept driving. She could see that there was a line to get into the museum where Stella Martin had been killed and laid out.

Stella was still at the morgue.

And people would be thronging in to see where she had lain.

“Capitalism at its best,” Sean murmured.

“We do need to survive as a city,” Katie said.

She drove on, turning down her street and bringing the car into the drive. “Sean, should I back out and park in the street so that you can reach your car?”

“No. I’m going to bed. I could sleep for a week. If I go to sleep now, I may feel human again by tomorrow.”

She parked the car and they all got out. Sean headed toward the house and then looked back. He strode over to them with purpose. “All right, someone has been killed, and Fantasy Fest may be starting off with a bang, but there is a killer on the loose. Katie, if you two don’t come here for the night, you make sure that I know you’re staying out.”

He stared at David.

“Of course,” David told him.

“All right, all right, it’s a little bit weird, but I actually prefer it if you stay here at night,” he said.

Neither of them moved.

Sean waved a hand in the air and walked on into the house.

“I’m going to take a run down to the police station. Will you go in for a while and promise me that you’ll stay there?” David asked her.

She lifted the journal. “Sure. But you know, I work tomorrow night again.”

“Hey, I’m getting to just love karaoke,” he assured her.

She kissed his cheek and headed into the house. “Lock it!” he called to her, and then started walking.

Katie went on in and set the ledger on the dining-room table. She wished that she had the books from the library as well, but they were at David’s house.

She couldn’t read more than one at a time anyway, she told herself.

It had been hot outside. She ran upstairs, jumped into the shower and afterward slid into the coolest cotton dress she could find. The shower refreshed her, and she went back downstairs. She set the kettle on the range top to boil. Now that she was cooled down, she was in the mood for a cup of hot tea.

She turned away from the stove and went dead still.

Her heart thudded against her chest, and seemed to stop.

Danny Zigler was here.

She looked to the door, and saw that it remained locked.

She had seen him last night; it might have been a dream, or something like a dream, but she had already seen Danny, and she had thought that he was dead.

But now she knew.

How she had ever imagined that he might be flesh and blood, that he might have broken into the house, she didn’t know.

He began to fade even as she stared at him. He had his old baseball cap in his hands, and his hair seemed unkempt. His clothes looked mussed and dirty.

“Danny,” she said softly.

He faded away completely.

Then he reappeared. He pointed to the table.

She frowned, looking down.

He was pointing at the journal she had taken from the Beckett house.

“Danny, what is it? What am I looking for?” she asked.

He faded away again, his arm, hand and then fingers disappearing last.

Then, there was no one there at all.