“No,” David agreed.
This time, Sam let out a long sigh. “They figured it was some kind of psycho who lived here and then moved on. Hell, he could have driven north that night, or taken a puddle jumper up the state. But you don’t think that a whacko killed my sister?”
“I don’t know anything. I just don’t think it was a psycho. I think it was someone who knew the area and had an agenda.”
“Like what?”
“That’s what I need to find out.”
“I still don’t understand. I mean, obviously, I really wish we knew what happened-who killed my baby sister. But, what’s different now? The cops swore they chased down every lead, no matter how small. What’s different now? How do you think you can solve anything?”
David stared at him and smiled tightly. “I’m different now. I’m not a kid. And I don’t intend to stop, or be stopped by anyone. I know that I had nothing to do with her death, and I know that someone did. Someone got away with murder, and I believe that we do know the person who killed her. The truth exists. And I want it.”
“Hey! Where are you?” Katie asked her brother. “Far away still, I take it. It’s great to hear from you.”
“We talked a week ago on Skype,” he reminded her.
“Skype is great-when you have a sibling halfway across the world.”
“I’m in Hawaii now. I’m coming home for a while, kid.”
“That’s wonderful! It will be like old-home week.”
“I know,” Sean said.
She frowned. “How do you know?”
“David Beckett left me a message about going back.”
“He left you a message?”
“E-mail,” Sean explained.
“But I thought-”
“I didn’t have access for a few days, but the filming project finished up. I’m in Hawaii, and I head back to California the day after tomorrow. Then Miami the following morning-”
“I’ll come pick you up.”
“No, no, I’m going to rent a car. I’ll be there sometime on Tuesday or Wednesday.”
“That’s wonderful, Sean! Oh, watch the traffic. The first events for Fantasy Fest are starting soon.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know the traffic. It will just be aggravating. I could hop a puddle jumper in Miami, but I kind of want to drive down. Even with the tourists clogging the road.”
“Okay. That’s super, Sean!”
He was quiet. She thought that she had lost the connection. “Katie?” he said then.
“What?”
“Don’t go telling anyone that…that you see things.”
It was her turn to be quiet. Sean had been amused the first time she had seen a ghost. She had been six, in first grade, and they’d been playing at the church. The ghost she had seen had been a nun. Sean had taken it all as a joke. Her feelings had been terribly hurt, but she had quickly realized that he had been trying to defend her. The other kids meant to torment her and laugh at her-which they did, until Sean turned it all around, laughing at them for falling for the joke.
Later, Katie had been alone at the playground. The nun had come to her, and spoken gently, assuring her that she had a gift, and that she must guard it carefully.
But when her grandfather had died, her mother’s tears had shaken her. She had seen her grandfather, trying to comfort her mother. She told her mother. Her mother believed she was just trying to comfort her-until she told her mother where Grandpa had left his old gold pocket watch, and that he wanted Katie’s father to have it.
Her mother had been looking everywhere for the pocket watch.
Katie was careful then. She didn’t tell anybody about the sailors, servicemen and pirates who roamed the docks.
She avoided eye contact with the ghosts. It hadn’t worked with Bartholomew.
She had thought that her brother had forgotten about her ghosts, because she never mentioned a ghost again. Sometimes, though, she had information or could tell him things because a ghost had pointed something out. She would remain stubbornly silent when he asked her how she knew something.
“Katie?”
“What?”
“Don’t go saying anything, anything at all-especially not to David. I know why he’s in town. If God himself comes down to speak to you, don’t say anything-do you understand?”
“I think God is busy, Sean. The world is a mess, if you haven’t noticed. I don’t think that he’s coming down to talk to me,” she said.
“Katie, please. I know you…think you see things,” Sean said. “I’m just…”
“Sean, you think that whoever killed Tanya Barnard is still around? It’s been ten years.”
“David has come home to find the killer, Katie. I’m willing to bet that he’s making that pretty clear. And if he’s right, the killer is going to be afraid. Please, Katie…listen to me?”
“Love you to death, big brother,” she said. “And I’m listening. I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t see things.”
“That’s what I need to hear, kid,” Sean said. He was quiet for a minute. “And be careful.”
“Of what?”
He was silent, but it was as if she could hear a single name in the silence between them.
David.
“Big brother, you either believe he’s guilty, or you don’t.”
“I don’t.”
“Then?” she asked.
“It’s-sad, sometimes…”
“You believe in a person or you don’t.”
“I do,” he said.
“Then?”
“All right, let’s say I believe in him. Belief isn’t all black-and-white. And not only that, but what if someone had been after him? What if that person is still around? Just watch out for yourself. Careful on getting too friendly.”
“I’m thrilled I’m going to get to see you,” she said, ignoring the warning.
“Yeah. See you soon! And behave until then, huh?”
“I’m just a regular angel, Sean.”
His snort was loud and clear. “Love you, Katie. And behave, I mean it.”
“Oh! We’re going in circles here, dear boy! I thought David was your friend, Sean.”
“He was. He is, I assume,” Sean said. “But…”
“Oh, my God! You are such a liar. You suspected him, too!”
“No. I never did. All right, that’s a lie. I don’t want to believe that David could have been guilty. I mean, I don’t think he could have been guilty. But the thing is, no matter how mature a man he might have been trying to be, Tanya did hurt him. I understand that people think that she might have found him that night, that he might have been angry. I don’t believe it, it’s just…she is dead. David was a big strong kid from the time he was ten. But he was always-sane. Craig taught him to be respectful at all times. He didn’t have a maniacal or crazy temper. So, I really believe he was innocent. Except, inside me somewhere, I suppose, I couldn’t help but let some of the theories and rumors get to me.”
“But now-you don’t believe it was David? Or you don’t want to believe it was David?”
Sean was quiet a moment. “Yes.”
“To which?”
“To both.”
“Okay, I’m saying that it wasn’t David. Then who?”
“I don’t know, Katie.”
“The police questioned you. I read it in a book.”
“They questioned everyone. I had been hanging at Uncle Jamie’s place that night-O’Hara’s. I saw Tanya there. I told them the truth.”
“Do you remember who left the bar?” Katie asked.
“If I do, kid, I’m not telling you.”
“What?”
“Stay out of it, do you hear me?”
“Love you, big bro. Losing the connection,” Katie said. “See you when you get here.”
She cut off the conversation before her brother could give her more instructions.
She looked back to her paper. Her brother’s name was the last thing she had written down. She scratched through his name. Sean certainly never hurt anyone. And neither did her uncle. She scratched through his name, as well. She looked at the list, shaking her head. It couldn’t have been Liam, or Pete Dryer, or…
Lord! No wonder the police had never discovered the truth. No matter what they thought, the murderer had to have been a passerby in the Keys. Had to have been!
She heard a soft sound at the door and looked up. Bartholomew was back; he hadn’t opened and closed the door, but he did make a strange noise as he came through it.
“Where have you been?” she asked him.
“Eavesdropping,” he said.
“On who?”
He pulled out his pocket watch, which couldn’t possibly work, but it seemed to, at least for Bartholomew. “You’d better get going. You’re going to be late for work. Not to mention that your uncle owns the place and you should be keeping an eye on it.”
She frowned and jumped up, realizing the time. She swore softly, gathered her purse and her keys and headed out. She closed the door; Bartholomew stepped through.
“Where were you eavesdropping?” she demanded.
“The police station,” Bartholomew informed her.
“Oh?”
“Maybe I shouldn’t tell you,” Bartholomew said slowly.
“You wretched pirate-”
“Privateer!”
“I’m going to call for an exorcist and send you downward with your scalawag friends!” she threatened.
He laughed, but then saw her eyes. “All right, all right. I was at the police station, and the officers have been warned to keep an eye on David Beckett,” he told her. “See, I shouldn’t have said anything. They weren’t sure what had happened because there was no evidence. There’s some discussion about the fact that David is still obsessed with Tanya and her murder. Evidence! Like that mattered in my day. They just hanged us right and left, right and left!”