Ghost Shadow

Sean nodded. “What a night, huh? Life is so-messed up, really. And then, maybe not. Maybe we all know that we’re mortal, and we live just like Poe suggested in ‘The Masque of the Red Death.’ Dance until we drop ourselves. A man was found dead-even the most dense person has to assume murdered, since it would have been impossible for him to stuff his own corpse in an effigy. The revelry continued though. Cities have lives of their own, I suppose. And since tourists didn’t know Danny Zigler…”

Sean left off. “Did you wonder why I came home, David?” he asked then.

“Because you knew I was coming here,” David answered.

Sean nodded. “Bizarre, really. I knew that you hadn’t killed Tanya. Or, should I say, I believed that you hadn’t killed Tanya. But there was just something about the fact that you were going to be here. I didn’t know that you were seeing Katie, but I knew she wanted to open the museum. Maybe I knew that you would try to stop her. God knows, you’re the only one not trying to make a buck off of tragedy! But something is going on. Something that started when we were kids just out of school and heading into college. It’s still going on.” He reached into his pocket. “I’ve made a list.”

“Yeah?”

“You’re on it, and I’m on it.”

“Naturally.”

Sean came in and sat down on the end of the sofa, spreading out his list, made on a cocktail napkin.

In a neat row Sean had lined up names.

Pete Dryer

Pete Dryer’s family

David Beckett

Liam Beckett

Mike Sanderson

Sam Barnard

Sean O’Hara

Jamie O’Hara

Danny Zigler

“I’ve made a similar list a dozen times in my mind,” David said. “We can scratch out Danny Zigler-Danny is dead. We can scratch out Dryer’s family. I don’t think they’ve ever come back, even though they don’t live far away. Oh, you can scratch out Mike Sanderson-he proved that he had an alibi this afternoon.”

“And I’m going to scratch out you and me.”

“You can scratch out Jamie, your uncle, too. A dozen witnesses knew that he never left O’Hara’s that night,” David said.

“Okay, so that leaves Tanya’s brother, Sam Barnard, my cousin and a cop, Liam Beckett, and Pete Dryer, a major-league cop,” David said.

“That’s right.”

“My cousin was nowhere near the museum that night,” David said. “Pete was.”

“Pete’s a police lieutenant. And who knows? Maybe Sam hated his sister. Maybe Liam has envied you his whole life. Hey, you were the apple of your grandfather’s eye. You were the star football hero.”

“Liam played football, Sean. I was a linebacker, he was a quarterback. He was never jealous of me. I have a hard time believing that Sam killed his sister. And Pete has risen like a meteor at the station. He was just a beat cop when the murder took place. He loves Key West. Maybe this list is bull. Maybe we should both be on it. Me more than you, of course. I found Tanya in the museum, and I was the one dating her. Odd, though. I’ve read the ledger over and over. Katie seems convinced it all has something to do with the first Craig Beckett, who had a man executed.”

Sean looked around the parlor. He stared back at David.

He let out a sigh. “I’m thinking that we both need to pay more attention to my sister,” he said.

“I always listen to your sister.”

Sean gave him an awkward and crooked smile. “No, no, you’re not really listening to her.”

“What do you mean?”

He could have sworn that Sean was going to say something-that he was about to break down and tell him something about Katie that was incredibly important.

But he didn’t.

Sean shook his head, disturbed. “I can’t,” he said softly. “You have to speak to Katie. This is crazy. I’ve told Katie over and over… I love my sister. And people would think that she was crazy. You’d think that-never mind. I’m telling you, just pay attention to my sister. That’s all.”

David frowned, watching him.

Sean stood suddenly. “Hell, I’m exhausted. And there’s tomorrow. Great idea for me, this coming home thing. Not a vacation at all. Two murders in a week, but for the living, life goes on. I guess that’s the way that it always has been, and always will be.”

David was tired, and wished that he could somehow shake Sean to find out what he meant. But Sean wasn’t going to talk. He seemed really tired, disgusted and frightened for his sister.

“Some major cities have a murder rate of one a day, and they can’t shut down, I suppose. Of course, statistically, our murder rate is two a year, not two a week. The investigative unit deals with drug deals, and cleaning up the street most of the time. Drugs are dangerous, the officers are up against a lot, but…not usually like this,” David said.

“You just said ‘our,’” Sean told him.

“Our-as in Key West,” David said.

“We both left,” Sean said.

“Still, we’re conchs,” David said.

Sean was watching him thoughtfully. “So, once a conch, always a conch?” he asked.

“What are you talking about?” David asked, irritated. “We’ve been through history and statistics, so what are we on now?”

“My sister,” Sean said softly.

“I don’t think the city is safe right now, and I don’t intend to let anything happen to her,” David said.

“That’s not exactly where I was going. She is my sister.”

“Yes?”

“Well, this sounds odd as hell. Just what are your intentions with my sister?”

David stared back at him.

What the hell were his intentions.

“I-”

“Yes, yes, you’re going to keep her safe. And I will, too. There’s some kind of psycho out there, but a couple of fellows who work in video and print film are going to keep her safe.”

David realized that Sean had made a good point, and his defenses rose to the fore. “I served in the military, did my time in the desert, Sean.”

“But what if you’re the one putting her in danger?” Sean asked. “Say someone had been out to get you all those years ago-kill Tanya, frame you. So now that person has killed a prostitute-and Danny Zigler. And he still hasn’t left clues, and he still hasn’t been caught. It’s not like you and Katie have this long-standing love affair. You could be putting her in serious danger,” Sean said.

“Ten years ago, a killer got away with murder,” David said. “But that was then, and this is now. Science has come a long way. They’ve just discovered Danny’s body. The killer has to make a mistake. And it will be found,” David said.

Katie suddenly appeared in the entrance to the parlor.

She walked into the room. She paused, giving her brother a kiss on the cheek, and then walking over to David. She looked up into his eyes and slipped an arm around him before she faced her brother. “Sean, I love you. I’m grateful that you came home, and I’m grateful that you care about me. I’ll answer your earlier question. None of what’s happening between us was intended, so no one can have intentions. I know that I’m not backing away from my life, and I don’t want David backing away from me because of anything that’s happening. No one knows what will come in the future, but I know that what’s going on between us is honest, and that’s the only intention I want.”

“Maybe you two should just pretend then to step away from one another,” Sean suggested.

“I think it would be too late for that,” Katie said. She smiled and shrugged. “I think the damage is done, Sean, so please, don’t go asking David to stay away from me.”

“We’ve got to…I don’t know. We’ve got to be careful with every move, that’s all I have to say,” Sean told her. “Well, that’s not all I have to say, but we’re all exhausted. I’m going to bed. After I make sure the doors and windows are locked.” True to his word, he walked around the room, bolting the windows. With a nod, he left them there.

Katie turned in David’s arms. “Sorry you got involved?” she asked him.

He held her close and shook his head. “Never, Katie.”

He pulled her closer and lifted her chin. “Never,” he said. “Katie, Sean said that you had a dream, that you believed Danny was dead.”

She started to move away from him.

“Katie,” he said, pulling her back.

She stared at him, and he thought that she was holding her breath, that like Sean she was about to say something.

But she didn’t.

She stood on her toes and lightly kissed his lips. “We really do need some sleep,” she said. She caught his hand, and she led him toward the stairs.

They slept…

And they didn’t sleep.

At first, they held one another.

He drifted to sleep. He woke, feeling the heat of her form against him, feeling her moving. He didn’t move, not wanting to wake her.

But she was awake. Her fingers trailed down his chest, circled around his abdomen, moved lower. His breath caught as he felt her sudden, sure touch. He rolled, pulled her against him, taking her into his arms, meeting her lips and then using his own to create a slow trail of liquid fire along her collarbone and breasts.

For a moment, she was still, breath caught.

Then she moved. Fluid, easy, ridiculously graceful for the vital energy that suddenly poured through the two of them. Passionate, fierce…the ardent movement of her body escalated by the soft whisper of tenderness that came with the brush of her lips against his.

He became the aggressor, sweeping her beneath him.

The world went still, and there was nothing but the hunger and the need, the basic feel of flesh and cotton and sheets, and their words as they edged closer and closer to climax. Again, the world went still, and there were moments that were oddly as fulfilling as the instinctive need for sexual satiation, that could never be achieved unless more than just sex was involved. ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">