Ghost Shadow

14

They’d barely woken up before the phone rang.

In fact, it was quite a jolt. Katie’s eyes had just opened, and David’s had just opened, and she was thinking that it could be a lovely morning.

Then the startling sound of her phone, and when she saw the caller ID, she answered.

For a moment, Katie had a strange sensation of, “Hail, hail, the gang’s all here!”

Her uncle Jamie was back in town, just in time for the festivities.

“Pirates!” he said.

“Uncle Jamie? What are you talking about?”

“Pirates. Here, there, everywhere. Oh, and with a vampire or two thrown in. Katie, my girl, bless you, wonderful! I need you-desperately! I was afraid I wouldn’t get you. Ah, and I heard that your brother is here in town, too, eh?” Jamie said. “Tell him to get his rich, famous, sorry ass down here with you. Jesus, Mary and Joseph! I thought we’d have a small breakfast crowd and the good Lord help me, I told Merrillo to open her up, and it’s a deluge! A deluge of pirates. And, oh, Lord have mercy. You should see the hottie who just walked by with a wench’s costume painted on.”

“Uncle Jamie, if she’s twenty, behave yourself.”

He chucked. “I need you, my girl.”

Katie covered her phone and looked at David.

“I need to go into O’Hara’s,” she told him.

“Now?” he asked, his hand on her midriff as he pulled her closer.

“I’ll be there in just a bit, Uncle Jamie. And I’ll get my brother’s sorry ass out of bed, too.”

She hung up. It was good hearing from Jamie. Business as usual.

No worry about corpses taking the places of mannequins.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

She started to get out of bed, but the hand on her midriff didn’t let go. David’s eyes were alight and a subtle smile was curved into his features.

He rolled over, pinning her. “Now?” he repeated.

She laughed. Something seemed beautifully normal about the day. She ran her fingers through the thick richness of his hair. “Well, now, yes…”

She felt his fingers stroke down the length of her body.

“Well, almost now,” she amended. “I mean, really, almost now…”

“Time schedule, yes,” he said, and they locked in one another’s arms.

Fifteen minutes later, breathless and laughing, she leapt out of bed while he rolled over and groaned. She flew into the shower, raced out in a towel and banged on her brother’s door while David took his turn in her shower.

“I’ve a message for you to get your sorry ass up!” she called to him.

“What? I’m still supposed to be filming in the China Sea!” he called back.

“You were seen. Get your-”

“Sorry ass up, yeah, yeah, all right. What the hell?”

“Uncle Jamie is back and we’re being deluged by pirates,” she called. “Ten minutes, downstairs!”

Jamie hadn’t lied. Pirates were once again walking the streets of Key West. The street was already packed with people, but it helped everyone, and everyone knew-this was one of the big chances to make money. Shopkeepers and bars weren’t stingy; they didn’t try to grab customers and hang on to them all night. They depended on one another. O’Hara’s was filled with flyers for another Irish bar, just as they advertised O’Hara’s bands and Katie-oke nights.

Katie parked in back. Sean and David were with her.

“See, here’s the point,” Sean pointed out. “You go off, and the world respects you as a filmmaker. You come back, and you’re a busboy,” Sean said, shaking his head sadly.

“Hey, big shots,” Katie said, “you have both forgotten what’s in your own backyards. You should get together and do a documentary right here. I know where you can find cheap divers. Then again, what would make a better film than Fantasy Fest?”

“Busboy by day, the Spielberg of documentaries by night! Like it-has a ring,” Sean said. “Let’s get in, and dig into the mayhem, huh? David, you’re not obliged in any way.”

“I can help out for a while,” David assured them.

He did. They walked into pure insanity. There was a mile-long line for the advertised breakfast.

Fantasy Fest Special! O’Hara’s opens for ye olde Irish breakfast.

Clarinda was working the floor, and she’d gotten Jonas to come in. One bartender held down the liquor angle, even though it was ridiculously early. “Hair O the Dog that Bit ye!” was a Bloody Mary, while “Sunrise Screamer” was an O’Hara’s concoction of rum and various juices.

Her uncle was a good-looking man, the family baby, sixteen years younger than her father and only nine years older than Sean. He was definitely harried when they walked in. He didn’t seem disturbed in any way to see David Beckett arrive with his niece and nephew. He studied David and grinned. “Heard you came in last night and saved the place, Beckett. Thanks. I owe you.”

Katie looked at Jamie and then at David, but they were still studying one another. “What went on?” Katie asked.

Clarinda came hurrying by with a tray carrying four of the house specialty-bangers and grits. She’d heard the question. “It was almost a heavyweight bout,” she said. “Sanderson and Barnard-Mike versus Sam. But David set them straight.”

“You beat them up?” Katie demanded.

“They beat themselves up. They were about to break into a mammoth fight, after, it appeared, drinking together in commiseration,” David said.

“And then-”

“They went to lockup for the night to sober up,” David said.

“Hey, hey, times a-wasting!” Jamie said. “We’ll get onto all this later. Katie, you, in the kitchen. You still know the menu, eh? Gloria is still back there. She’ll call the shots.”

“Aye, aye, captain!” Katie said.

“David, the bar, if you will. Sean-”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Bus tables,” Sean said, rolling his eyes. “I’m on it.”

“That damned Danny Zigler comes in, wanting work, and where is he now?” Jamie said, shaking his head with disgust.

Dead, Katie wanted to say, but she didn’t. She hurried back to the kitchen.

The breakfast rush lasted into lunch, but by then, Jamie had managed to gather all his part-time employees and the operation was running smoothly again. At two o’clock, the regular employees had the dining stragglers under control. Katie, emerging from the kitchen, saw that her uncle, her brother and David were seated at one of the tables near the bar and the band stage where her karaoke equipment was set up. They seemed to be eased back, and talking.

Like old friends who hadn’t seen each other in a very long time.

She saw that Clarinda had stepped outside and went to join her on the sidewalk. “The air! Ah, the air, the air!” Clarinda said.

“So, what was going on with Mike Sanderson and Sam Barnard last night?” Katie asked. “Did they come in together?”

“No. Sam came in-he’s been coming in here pretty regularly since he got into town. Strange, huh? He’s been living up in Key Largo all this time, never came here, as far as I know, and now, this week, here he is.”

“And, wow, really go figure! Mike Sanderson, dressing up like Robert the Doll,” Katie said.

Clarinda shuddered and grimaced. “Now, that is frigging creepy- Oh, look!”

Katie looked down the street. She didn’t see anything unusual-not for Key West in the midst of Fantasy Fest. A pirate with a peg leg was escorting a vampire down Duval. The pirate was fairly customary-and good. He had an eye patch, a real peg leg and looked as if he might have stepped off the pages of Treasure Island.

The vampire wore a sweeping black skirt with stripes of blood that continued from the bodice of the gown, a tight-fitting corset. She was wearing the typical long black wig and white makeup, along with ruby-red lips.

“Cool costume-she looks good,” Katie said.

“Look harder!” Clarinda said, laughing.

Katie did. She gasped. “That corset is body paint! Oh, my God, that is amazing!”

“Yes, it is!” Sean announced, stepping up behind them.

“You’re a lech!” Clarinda accused.

“I am not. I’m commenting on a great paint job,” Sean assured her. He yawned. “Ladies, it’s been a thrill. Such a thrill. I’m going home and back to bed. Katie, be good, be careful. I’ll be at the house if you need me. All right, well, I’ll be at the house whether you need me or not, but I’ll have my cell. And don’t worry, I’ll be here for the Katie-oke, even if Jamie guilts me into busing tables again.”

He gave her and Clarinda a kiss on the cheek and started walking.

“Hey, the car’s in back!” Katie called.

“Leave it there-by the time tonight is over, we may be too tired to walk!”

Sean left, and David replaced him. “Hey, are you going to hang around here for a while?” he asked Katie.

“Maybe an hour,” Katie said. “I’ll just stay long enough to see that Jamie really has things under control.”

“I’ll be back then.”

He gave both girls a kiss on the cheek, and was gone.

“It’s amazing, isn’t it?” Clarinda said. “Think about it-all our lives! Except for college, of course. All of our lives, and this place is still just crazy.”

“Yes, but that’s why I love it,” Katie said. “Black, white, gay, straight, Hispanic, Russian, Israeli, you name it. Somewhere along the line, someone made a rule that we’d all accept one another, and it seems to have stuck. I do. I love it here.”

“And I’ve never even seen you in body paint!” Clarinda teased. “Hey-Jamie was just saying he wanted us in the pirate costumes tonight. Want to walk down to Front Street and the pirate-costume-slash-sex shop with me?”

“Sure. Let me tell Jamie what I’m doing.”

“You need one, too, you know.”

“Me?”

“Hey, he wants to help celebrate the Fantasy Fest pirate party,” Clarinda said. “He’s open to vampires, too.”

“Great,” Katie said. She hurried back in to tell Jamie what she was doing, then joined Clarinda on the street.

“That thing is just creepy,” Clarinda commented as they passed by giant Robert the Doll.

“And it stinks around here,” Katie commented.

Clarinda frowned. “Old booze. Sweat. Maybe someone was sick.”

They walked down to Front Street, turned right and went the few blocks to the store. It was one of Katie’s favorite places. Half of the store sold sexy lingerie, sex toys and naughty Halloween costumes. The other half carried an amazing array for the pirates of Key West. Vests, period coats, shirts, skirts and more. It was possible to be a wench, an aristocrat, an elegant buccaneer or a scurvy mate. The morning had been so busy, she’d been able to set aside everything that had been happening.

Certainly, the city did not seem to be mourning the passing of one of its strippers.

Clarinda tried on a variety of costumes, and decided on a wench. Katie was musing between a corset, blouse and skirt, and a recreation of an Elizabeth Swann costume when Bartholomew appeared at her elbow. “The corset,” he said. “Very real. Miss Swann wasn’t a true pirate wench in any way-she was forced aboard, a kidnap victim. I did love that movie,” he said.

“Where have you been this time?” Katie asked him.

“Home,” he said. She arched a brow, but the ghost had claimed her house as his own, and didn’t appear to notice the way she looked at him. Bartholomew was deep in thought.

“I’m right here, Katie,” Clarinda said, frowning.

“I’m going to go with the shirt, corset thing and skirt,” Katie said.

“Can you sing in that thing?”

“The ties are fake-there’s a zipper in back and it’s stretchy. I’ll be fine,” Katie said.

“I’ve been reading the book,” Bartholomew said. “Nice piece of nostalgia for me. Beckett was a damned decent man.”

“That’s good to hear,” Katie said.

“Pardon?” Clarinda said.

“They’ll be able to hear me fine,” Katie said. She glared tight-lipped at Bartholomew, who shrugged.

“I know that the key to all this is in the past. Did you see the part where Beckett mentions that Smith cursed him from the noose?”

Katie lowered her head. “I can’t talk to you now, Bartholomew,” she said.

“Katie?” Clarinda said.

“Sorry, arguing with myself,” Katie said. “Come on, let’s pay for this stuff.”

At the counter, she produced her credit card, assuring Clarinda that they were giving the bill to Jamie. As she waited to sign the slip, Katie gazed out the window.

The sun was filtering in. For a moment, it seemed to blind her.

Then, she saw that Tanya was standing there. Standing there, beautiful and sad in white, as if waiting for her company.

“Sign that for me, will you?” Katie said to Clarinda. “Please.”

“Where are you going? Katie, are you all right? Hey, wait!” Clarinda said.

But Katie was already on her way out.

Tanya waited, caught in that glimmer of sunlight, until Katie was nearly upon her. Then she started to walk.

Katie made her way through buxom lasses and strapping pirates, and a U.S. Navy sea captain here and there. Vampires and zombies were crowding the streets, as well. The season was changing-it was just hot instead of dead hot-but all manner of costumes were being worn-naked and in paint, almost naked, to period frock coats and heavy fabric skirts.

Music was emitting from restaurants and bars already; a fire-eater was working a corner of Front Street.

Tanya managed to stay just ahead of Katie.

Bartholomew was following close behind her.

“She’s headed for the hanging tree,” he said.

“Why?” Katie murmured.

Bartholomew said, “I keep telling you, it has to have something to do with the past. It has something to do with me,” he said.

She turned to stare at him, crashed into a wolfman, righted herself, apologized and hurried on. “Wolfman-the guy is crazy! He’ll be sweating to death before tonight,” she murmured.

They reached the saloon. It was busy. Katie saw Tanya slip in and she followed. There were no tables. There was one seat at the bar and she grabbed it, ordered a drink from a harried bartender and looked around.

“Imagine back,” Bartholomew said, standing right behind her and whispering in her ear. “When I died, the building wasn’t here. The area where you’re sitting was built in eighteen fifty-one. Morgue. Quite convenient. After one of the hurricanes, folks came back and found that the bodies weren’t in great shape. They ripped up the floorboards and buried them right here.”

“I know. There’s still a tombstone here,” Katie said.

“And bones in the ground,” Bartholomew said sadly.

“And the woman who haunts the bathroom,” Katie said. “But, Bartholomew-”

“You’ve got to go back before that. Military law-and no law. Evidence? What was evidence in a buccaneer town like Key West?” he asked bitterly.

“Did you see Smith hang?” Katie asked him.

He shook his head. “I had friends. I was buried on the beach. After the same hurricane, they dug me up with the others-and what pieces they discovered were transferred to the new cemetery-the Key West cemetery.”

She actually felt his hands on her shoulders. “Katie, it’s all attached, I just know it, somehow. You have to go through that book again.”

“Danny Zigler had checked out several books. They’re at David’s house. We’ll get them first thing in the morning, how’s that? Or, I’ll call David. I’ll ask him to get them before tonight, and then I’ll have them to read.”

“Is something wrong?” the bartender asked Katie, concerned despite the insanity of the bar. She had large brown eyes and a Romanian accent.

“I’m sorry, muttering to myself, practicing for tonight,” Katie told her.

Her cell phone was ringing. She saw that it was Clarinda. She answered quickly. “Sorry, I saw an old friend-from school,” she said quickly.

“Anyone I know?” Clarinda asked.

“College,” Katie lied, and winced. “Meet me on Duval and Front, okay?”

“I’m there, looking for you.”

“I’m there!” Katie promised.

Katie offered the bartender a bill and slipped off the bar stool.

She turned, and Tanya was there, staring straight at her. Her lips were moving. Katie froze, staring, and then inhaled, watching Tanya’s lips.

Then she could hear. Barely.

“Revenge. He whispered the word when he was behind me. Revenge.”

Tanya then stared at Bartholomew; her lips moved again, and she seemed distressed.

She faded, and was gone.

“See, she wants you to listen to me,” Bartholomew said. “That’s why she brought you here. Revenge! And she must somehow know or sense that it has to do with the past.”

Katie nodded. “Right. She’s gaining strength as a ghost.”

“And she just used it all, bringing you here, whispering.”

“I got it, I got it!” Katie assured him.

Her cell started ringing again. Clarinda!

She waved a thanks to the bartender and hurried out. It was all crazy. Two women were dead, dressed up and laid out like a twentieth-century corpse. And yet Tanya had come here, and Bartholomew insisted that it all went back to something that had occurred before the buildings here even existed.

She saw Clarinda on the street, waved and blocked her mouth with her hand as she told Bartholomew, “Please, please, please! Don’t make me keep talking, okay?”

He didn’t reply. He was silent as they met Clarinda.

“Let’s head back to O’Hara’s, and I’ll get the car and we’ll bring it back later. We’ve only got an hour or so, but I’d like to take a shower before tonight. I feel like I’m covered in bangers and grits,” Katie said.

“Ah, and I have a fine sheen of maple syrup,” Clarinda said. “Sounds like a plan to me.”

As they walked along, Katie thought that she might tease and mock, but she loved Fantasy Fest. So many of the costumes were amazing. They passed by a fellow dressed up as a parrot; he had magnificent feathers, body paint-and the subtle decency to wear a brilliantly fashioned loincloth. It was a beautiful costume-fitting right in with the fellow’s Mohawk-and both Katie and Clarinda gave him quick compliments as they passed.

As they neared O’Hara’s, Katie wrinkled her nose.

“Someone from the city has to get out here and find out what that smell is!” Clarinda said.

“We’ll have Jamie call it in,” Katie agreed.

They reached O’Hara’s. As they started in, Katie felt the brush of Bartholomew’s fingers on her shoulder.

She spun around.

And there was Danny Zigler. He was in the middle of the street, oblivious as cars and scooters and pedestrians passed him by, or walked right through him.

He lifted a beseeching hand to her.

Then faded into the crowd.

At the station, Liam told David that Mike Sanderson and Sam Barnard were being held at the detention center up in Stock Island.

“They’ll be let out soon. They were just being held for drunk and disorderly, and, well, the place’ll be filling up with pirates and vampires now,” Liam said.

“Can you find out if they’ve already been released?” David asked.

“Sure.”

Liam put through a call. The two would be released within the hour.

“I hope I can make it in time,” David muttered.

“You can.” Liam stood. “We’ll take a patrol car.”

“I thought you were holding down the fort, with Dryer prowling the streets,” David said.

Liam shrugged. “We have more units. The lieutenant is good, but no one is on duty all the time. I’ll just tell the chief that I’m leaving, working the case.”

“Don’t get in trouble here-”

“The chief is a cool guy. He put in his hours-bike patrol, night shift, day shift. And we’re speaking with persons of interest in two murder cases, even if we haven’t a shred of evidence.”

Liam was gone less than a few minutes; a detective sergeant took over his place at the desk, which had apparently become the hot spot for the Stella Martin investigation.

The drive to Stock Island in the patrol car, even with mad traffic streaming into the city, took less than twenty minutes.

When they arrived, Sanderson and Barnard were already being released.

David and Liam stood at the exit, watching as the men procured their belongings and signed out. Sam saw them first, and stood still. Mike halted behind Sam.

“You came to pick us up?” Mike asked hopefully.

“Sure,” Liam said. “I’ve got a car just outside.”

“Look, it was a drunken bar brawl,” Mike said. “That’s all.”

“Over what?” David asked.

The two looked at one another sheepishly. “My sister,” Sam said at last.

Mike looked at David remorsefully. “I called her-a not nice name. I told him that if Tanya had ever been able to really make up her mind, she might still be alive.”

“Let’s take it outside,” David suggested.

The two followed David and Liam to the patrol car. They looked suspiciously at Liam. “You’re not under arrest-it’s a ride,” he said.

They crawled in. Liam took the wheel and David sat in the front passenger’s side. “What were you two doing together to begin with?” David asked.

“Well, first it was friendly,” Mike said. “We started talking about Stella Martin-who was a whore, I mean, no doubt about it.”

“Tanya wasn’t a whore,” Sam said.

“God, no,” Mike said. “That was never what I meant. I was hung up on her, totally smitten. She was beautiful, man. So much spirit in her!”

David glanced over at Liam. The two had to be sober now, but it almost looked as if they were going to fall into a hug and sob together.

“So, let’s work the whole thing out,” David said.

Liam pulled the car over into the lot of a fishing-and-tackle store that had closed its doors for the weekend.

Mike and Sam looked at one another again.

“Mike, you were a liar. You told the cops you were up north the night that Tanya was murdered. You weren’t up north,” Sam said.

Mike looked out the window. “I was in Miami.”

“Can you prove it? We’ve managed to dredge up the information that you were in St. Augustine twenty-four hours after she was killed, but the night of the murder…” Liam said.

“Lord, do you know how long ago that was?” Mike asked. “But I can tell you where I was.”

“And what he was doing,” Sam said bitterly.

“What were you doing?” Liam asked sharply.

Mike let out a sigh. “I was with a prostitute.”

“A decade ago-that is going to be hard to prove,” Liam noted.

“You know her name?” David asked.

“Yeah-Tiffany.”

“You have a last name for her?” Liam asked.

“Tiffany-Number One?” Mike suggested. “Hell, that year, half the working girls in the country were named Tiffany.” He stiffened suddenly. “Look, I’m not the asshole I sound like, really. I told you, I didn’t believe that Tanya was going to come with me. She’d seen you again, David. I wasn’t old, I wasn’t mature-and I was lonely and hurt.”

“You cheated on her-with a whore,” Sam said morosely.

“I didn’t cheat. She was leaving me, and I knew it,” Mike said. He straightened suddenly. “Hey, maybe I can prove it! She was working for something called Elegant Escorts, and soon after, there was some kind of a sting operation on them. I did pay with a credit card.” He looked out the window again, embarrassed. “I didn’t help with the prosecution. I told them that I had just signed on for a massage and that nothing else happened. I was a kid. I lived at home. My mother would have killed me.”

David looked at Liam. Liam shrugged. “We can track it,” he said.

David stared at Mike.

Mike glared back at him. “Hey, you know what-you were the one in the hot seat, not me. I talked to her earlier. We know she was at O’Hara’s. I was home all night after that.”

“Something you can’t prove,” David pointed out. “Where were you that night, Sam?”

“She was my sister,” Sam said angrily. “And, hey, I’m sorry, the people who could vouch for me-like the people who could vouch for you-are dead. You are a prick, Beckett. She was my sister. And no one ever looked at me with accusation before.”

“There’s another dead woman,” David said.

“And you were suddenly back here, just like the two of us,” Sam pointed out.

“Actually, I’ve been back frequently,” Mike said.

“Right. Dressing up as Robert the Doll and lying to your wife,” David pointed out.

“Point is, I’ve been here before-and you and Sam have been gone forever,” Mike said.

“I live in Key Largo. Two-hour drive. If I’d wanted to kill someone again and set them up in a Key West exhibit, I could have done it at any time,” Sam pointed out.

Liam started the car up again. “I’ll be checking on your whereabouts the night Tanya was murdered, Mike. Procedure, you know.”

“Look, we believe one another,” Sam said. “You bastards need to find out who did kill my sister.”

Liam drove straight down Roosevelt to the police station. It was a long walk back to Old Town, but he made it evident that he was parking and going back into his office, and that was that.

Mike and Sam sat in the car for a minute, and then got out. “You heading back, Beckett?” Mike asked David.

“In a while.”

The two walked off, muttering to one another.

“That Beckett isn’t a cop-he’s a filmmaker or a cat photographer or whatever. And suspicious as hell, if anyone asks,” Mike said.

“Yeah, but, hey, he’s a Beckett. Damned Becketts still think they own the island,” Sam complained.

Liam, watching them, grinned. “So?”

“So, let’s see if we can check out Mike’s alibi. Then I’ll head on back in. I want to hang around O’Hara’s tonight. I figure things will start getting wild.”

David waited, mulling over the past, and the present, while Liam went through various conversations with Miami and Miami-Dade County law-enforcement groups.

Why did Danny have the Key West history books, and why had ten thousand dollars been slipped into one book?

Liam set his phone down, drawing David’s attention. “Mike Sanderson was telling the truth. A vice guy in Miami remembers the sting. There was a Tiffany, and when it all went to court, she vouched for Mike Sanderson’s statement-she had just given him a massage.”

Scratch another one off the list.

“Thanks, Liam,” he said.

“It’s a walk-you want a ride?”

“I’ll catch a cab,” David told him.

He called Katie on his way back and found out that she was at the house. He had himself dropped off at her address, and when he knocked, Sean let him in. “Good timing. We’re about to head out again. Katie is in the parlor.”

“Thanks,” David said. He looked at Sean, who was wearing a pirate’s bandana, a tricorn hat, striped pants and a black poet’s shirt.

Sean grimaced. “Uncle Jamie wants to support the pirates.”

“Great.”

He went into the parlor. Katie was perched on the love seat, his family ledger book in her hands. She didn’t even notice him as he entered.

He noticed her.

She wore pirate attire extremely well. It was definitely a look, and though she was completely covered, he thought that she’d rival any woman who was stark naked. Just the line of her throat and collarbone was visible, and the beautiful rise of rounded breasts. Her waist seemed minuscule, and her pirate boots added a touch of the wicked woman to her apparel.

He whistled.

She looked up, startled, nearly dropping the book.

“Hey,” she said. She looked at him curiously.

“I visited the jailbirds. Mike Sanderson has an absolute alibi for the night Tanya was killed.”

“Oh?”

“He was with an escort,” David said.

She was startled. “But, I thought…”

“He says that he was certain that he’d already been ditched-for me,” David told her.

She looked at him sympathetically, then rose, carefully putting the book down. “I need you to bring those books over tomorrow. It’s important, I think.”

“Why? I’m not arguing the point, but why are you so convinced?”

“I don’t know how to explain it to you.” She smiled. “The little ghost of an idea keeps coming to me. It keeps leading me back to the hanging tree.”

“The hanging tree?” David said.

“Your ancestor avenged a pirate, did you know that?” Katie asked. She jerked forward suddenly, just as if she had been pushed. “Privateer!” she said firmly.

Frowning, he said, “I know the story, of course. Some wretch named Smith managed to shift the blame for his own deed to another man. That man was hanged by a lynch mob. Later, the first Craig Beckett saw to it that Smith was hanged, as well. Katie, it was close to two hundred years ago. That’s one hell of a long time to bear a grudge.” He smiled. “You don’t think that Smith’s ghost is rising up to kill women and try to frame the Becketts, do you?”

“Ghosts don’t really have that kind of strength,” she said.

“What? Katie, these murders are being committed by someone who is flesh and blood, whatever may have gone on in the past.”

“Of course,” she said. “But I do think that the key lies in the past.”

“Absolutely. I’ll get the books tomorrow-we’ll spend all the time before you have to go to work reading through them.”

She smiled and nodded, and then her smile faded. “Any word on Danny Zigler?”

“I thought that you believed that he was dead.”

“I know that he’s dead. I was wondering if they had found him.”

“How do you know for certain?” David asked her.

Sean came to the doorway. “She saw it in a dream. Come on, Katie, you don’t want to get started late tonight. The flaming temper of the Irish-American Jamie O’Hara is a terrible thing to behold.”

“Yep, let’s go,” Katie agreed, anxious to be out.

When they walked in, David found himself instantly welcomed by Jamie O’Hara-who had shirt and frock coat waiting for him. “Arrrrr!” Jamie said. “Pirate night! They’re closing the street off-there’s going to be a parade happening in a few minutes. Katie, the place is hopping. Start them off with something pirate-y, will you?”

“Sure-can I boot up the computer and set the microphones and the amps?” Katie asked.

“Arrrr!” Jamie said in good humor.

“Hey!” Sean nudged David. “Head on back and change into that pirate garb, my good fellow.”

David was about to protest; he didn’t. Why not? He wanted to blend into the crowd. He wanted to watch. Years had gone by now, and he had no intention of leaving until the whole thing was solved. He couldn’t explain it but he felt as if some pieces of the puzzle were coming together. He’d watch until, eventually, the killer made a mistake.

He headed back to the men’s restroom to change. The acoustics and sound system in the place were good. He could hear Katie, welcoming everyone to Key West, Fantasy Fest and O’Hara’s Pub. She pointed out her request slips and her songbooks, and said that anyone was welcome to ask her about a song not in the books, as well-some could be found on the computer. She opened the evening with a charming rendition of a Disney pirate song-one that every pirate in the place sang along with her.

He headed out, appropriately attired then in his huge blousy shirt, frock coat, swashbuckling hat-and Levi’s jeans and Nike sneakers. As he headed around the bar to the stage area, he saw that Katie had stopped singing.

The pirates in the place assumed it was their job to keep going, and they were all certainly rowdy enough-and drunk enough-to do so.

Katie set down her microphone-and headed out the door.

“Katie!” He shouted her name and went running after her.

She was out in the middle of the street. The parade had begun, and chanting pirates, wenches, fire-eaters, flag wavers, small floats-even costumed dogs-were marching along, and sidestepping Katie. There was a figure running north down Duval.

Someone dressed as Robert the Doll!

Katie was chasing him.

David chased Katie.

Suddenly she stopped, and stared across the street at oversize Robert the Doll. Held in spot by a weight at the bottom by the feet, the figure seemed to move back and forth.

The huge effigy remained. The costumed Robert the Doll had disappeared.

“Katie!” David cried.

She seemed completely oblivious to him.

He rushed after her, but he was captured by a pirate wench, and spun around the street.

As politely and firmly as he could, he extricated himself.

He turned around, seeking Katie. She was across the street, wrenching at the effigy.

“Katie!”

Suddenly, he knew.

He knew the smell in the street.

And he knew what was going to happen.

Katie was tugging with a vengeance at the straw arms of the effigy. He reached her just in time to wrest her away as one of the arms came free.

As straw spilled out onto the street…

The thing crumbled, falling apart around the bottom weight.

Exposing the decomposing corpse of Danny Zigler.