Heather Graham - Ghost Shadow

“Is that an invitation?”

“You hitchhiking?” Liam asked.

“Hell, yes.”

He got into the car. “Thanks.”

Katie woke with a start. She had been deeply asleep, but when she woke, she remembered the dream.

And that she had told David that-ghosts came to her.

He hadn’t believed her. Neither had he walked away. She had told him about Bartholomew. He hadn’t said that she was stark, raving mad.

She shivered, remembering herself as the corpse of Elena de Hoyos.

Maybe it meant nothing. No, it meant that two women had already been left that way!

They always came back to the hanging tree.

That was what was important, she thought.

When she came downstairs, she didn’t see David, but Sean was at the computer. She thought that he was working. But he was looking up sites on the Internet. Sites that had to do with Key West.

“Hey. Where’s David?” she asked.

“He went to his place. He wanted to read through the books that Danny Zigler had apparently been reading,” Sean told her. He rose and stretched, pushing away from the computer chair. “You know, just a few years ago, they dug up seven bodies from the cemetery, trying to match them with DNA to missing persons cases.”

“I remember, vaguely.”

“And you know where most of our investigations into unnatural deaths are centered?”

“Accident victims? Drunk drivers?” Katie asked, pouring coffee.

Sean said, “No. Drowning and diving and snorkeling accidents.”

“I suppose that makes sense,” Katie said. “Sean, what are you trying to do?”

He shook his head with disgust. “Find anything that we don’t know about Tanya’s murder. Instead, I think I’ve just become a walking encyclopedia of trivia on my hometown.”

“Nothing we learn can ever hurt,” she told him.

Bartholomew took a seat at the computer. “Morning, Katie,” he said.

She ignored him. He was purposely trying to annoy Sean, she thought. He hit a computer key, and pages started flashing by.

“You really have to replace that thing, Katie,” Sean told her irritably. “Or is it the cable company? I think I had better service on the China Sea.”

“The Internet is great-when it works,” she said, staring at Bartholomew with a glare that meant, Behave!

“Sean,” she said to her brother, “I’m going to go on over to David’s.”

“All right. I’ll walk you.”

“It is broad daylight, and the streets are busy.”

“I’ll walk you.”

“All right, thank you.”

“I’ll walk you, too,” Bartholomew said. He stood up and fluffed her brother’s hair. Sean spun around, eyes narrowed.

“It’s just Bartholomew,” Katie said.

“What?” Sean demanded sharply.

She inhaled deeply. “Sean, for the love of God! You’re not blind, you’re not an idiot. I know you’ve spent your life afraid that people will think I’m crazy, and I get that! But you have to feel it, you have to have seen things move. Please, Sean, right now, it’s important that you believe in me!”

He rose. He dragged his fingers through his hair. “I don’t want to believe!” he whispered.

“Admit that there’s something!” she told him.

He held his breath; he let out a sigh. Bartholomew laughed, and tousled Sean’s hair again. Sean jumped.

“It’s Bartholomew, and-” Katie winced. “He’s my friend. He wants to help us, and maybe he can. Please, Sean, for once, and now, believe in me!”

Sean was still for a long moment. “Yes, there’s something in this house,” he said.

“Someone. It’s Bartholomew. He’s real, Sean.”

Her brother’s face was hard. Then he grated his teeth, and let out a long breath. “Bartholomew. All right. Bartholomew the ghost. Tell him that I have to be in love-and that I am heterosexual-to enjoy anyone messing with my hair,” Sean said.

“I’ve told you. He can hear you,” Katie said.

Bartholomew proudly made a mess of Sean’s hair again.

“Eh! Tell him to stop that,” Sean said. His eyes narrowed. “If he’s a damned ghost, why can’t he help us solve the killings?”

“He doesn’t know,” Katie said.

“Why doesn’t he just ask the other ghosts?”

“Sean, I’ve tried to explain. They don’t know.” She turned away from him. “I’m just going to grab a cup of coffee quickly, all right?”

“Sure. Then I’ll get you over there. I’m running up to my room for a minute. I’ll be right back down.”

She went to pour herself coffee. Bartholomew leaned against the counter casually. “So?”

“So what?”

“Danny Zigler has nothing?” he asked.

“Bartholomew, if I knew who the killer was, I’d be announcing it to the world.”

Bartholomew was thoughtful. “So, Danny was taken by surprise, from the back, just like the others. Odd, though. I have a feeling that Danny knows something.”

“He’s not a talkative ghost. Except for…”

“For?”

“Last night, I had a dream, or a nightmare, whichever way you want to look at it. Danny was in it, and so were Tanya and Stella. First, I asked him about the books and the money. He received a threatening call-to drop looking into the books. Then, he found the money under his doormat. I don’t think that the killer wanted to kill him, but finally felt that he had to. Oh! He saw Stella before she died. Maybe the killer thought that he might have seen something.”

“But he didn’t.”

“No.”

“Then?”

“I begged them to help me.”

“And?”

“We went on a ghost tour together.”

“Danny did enjoy giving a ghost tour,” Bartholomew said.

“The dream ended at the hanging tree. Bartholomew, you must know something more. Let’s say that we’re figuring this thing correctly. The killer is an islander. Someone with an old grudge, trying to relive a past they don’t even really know. Can you think of anything?”

“Hey, it’s not a descendant of mine!” Bartholomew said defensively. “I was avenged.”

“By David Beckett’s ancestor. But what about Smith?” she asked.

“Do you know a Smith?” he asked.

“No,” she said with a sigh. “But decades-almost two centuries-have gone by.”

“You don’t think that the ghost of Eli Smith has come back, do you? I’m telling you, I’m a dammed good ghost, and I couldn’t sneak up behind someone, smother them and then strangle them.”

“There’s no ghost. There’s a human being out there doing all this,” Katie said.

Sean came quickly back down the stairs. His hair had been brushed. “Ready?” he asked his sister.

She nodded.

Bartholomew followed as they left the house, waiting patiently as Sean made sure that he locked the door. Katie picked up the newspaper and read the headline.

“Anything?” Bartholomew asked.

“No. Just the facts we already know.”

“No what?” Sean asked.

“No, there’s nothing new on Danny,” Katie said.

“Bartholomew asked first, right?” Sean asked with a groan.

“Sean, he’s real,” she said softly.

Sean squeezed her arm. “I believe you. Well, I believe something, anyway. Let’s get this straight then. You’re there, Bartholomew? Quit being a horse’s ass! Flipping my hair around is really beneath your dignity.”

Bartholomew puffed himself up. Katie thought that he was going to explode with anger.

He didn’t. He laughed. “Tell Sean that he’s all right.”

Katie did so.

Sean lowered his head, hiding a smile. “Let’s go.”

They walked the few blocks to David’s house.

Sean knocked on the door, stepped back, frowned and rang the bell.

Katie did the same.

“He’s not here,” she said with dismay. “Or, he’s not opening the door if he is!”