Ghost Shadow

11

It wasn’t difficult in the least to find Lewis Agaro.

David simply went from bar to bar, and found him in a small but rustic place near Mallory Square.

He sat down on a bar stool next to the slim young man. Lewis Agaro turned, took one look at him and started to bolt.

David set a hand on the kid’s on the bar.

“I’m not here to take you down,” he said.

Lewis looked around. He was looking for his older brother, David thought. But the brother didn’t appear to be here.

Lewis sat. A barmaid came up, and David ordered a beer.

“You’d be a blind and deaf man not to know about the murder,” David said, his tone conversational. “And I’m wondering how it feels. You were the last one with her. She might have been a prostitute and a stripper, but she was a human being and you’d definitely been attracted to her. Even though the cops were trying to bust you for something that she did.”

The kid let out a breath, picked up his drink and swallowed down the remainder. A pulse was ticking at his throat. “She was cool,” he said. “She-she had balls. She ripped me off, and I knew that when I woke up, but she didn’t take all my money-she left me enough to get around. I would have gone back to the club. I would have called her out on it, but I swear, I wouldn’t have hurt her.” He turned to David then, and he did look tortured.

“I don’t think that you killed her, kid,” David said.

Lewis Agaro let out a long breath. “I didn’t. I swear I didn’t. I had a night with her like no other. I woke up and my wallet had been rifled and she was gone. I went back to the club, but she wasn’t there. Then-they found her body.”

“Did you see anyone that night? Did she talk to you about anyone?”

Agaro frowned, shaking his head. He was thoughtful. “She-well, we talked about the fact that I had almost been arrested for a pocket she had picked! She thought it was fu

“I’m sure she did.”

“The cops are going to arrest me, aren’t they? They’re going to think that I did it. Billy-my brother-he’s all disgusted with me. He wanted to get the hell off the island. Billy-” He paused, wincing. “Billy didn’t even know that I’d hired her for the night. He wound up hanging out with some of his friends from FSU. He thinks I’ll be called in-along with him-cause we were stopped in the street by that Neanderthal the other night and accused of robbing him.”

“You’re not going to be arrested, Lewis, but they will bring you in for questioning. Just tell them the truth. You’re a kid from out of town, you couldn’t possibly have staged the death scene at the museum. The cops aren’t stupid. They know that.” He pulled a cocktail napkin toward him and reached in his pocket for a pen. He scribbled down a name and handed the paper to the young man. “There’s a name for a good attorney down here-a criminal attorney. If you need help, call him. He’s a good guy.”

“I can’t afford an attorney.”

“Tell him I referred you. He’s older than hell, better than anyone else you’ll ever meet. I know-he stood by me once. He’s an old family friend. You’ll be all right. That’s over with, so… Think. Please, think. Is there anything else you can tell me?”

He perked up suddenly. “There was one thing. There was this guy. He’d been upstairs-during the show. He tried to get Stella to talk to him, but she ripped her arm away from him and hissed something at him. And he told her he was working a whole lot. He was going to get money-she should quit what she was doing. I think that he knew that she had promised to come home with me.”

“What did the guy look like?” David asked, though he was sure he knew the answer.

“Ski

David nodded. “Thanks.”

He set a hand on the kid’s shoulder and rose.

Da

But where the hell was he now? David was afraid that he wasn’t going to find Da

He still had to find Da

Katie’s phone rang in the quiet of the library, making her jump. She answered it quickly, wondering if her heart was thumping because her caller ID read David Beckett, or just because she had been so startled.

“Hey,” she said. “How’s it going?”

“Interesting. Da

“Well, he’ll turn up, I’m certain.”

David didn’t reply to her statement. “Where are you?” he asked instead.

“The library.”

“That’s not on Duval Street.”

“It’s a happening place.”

He laughed softly. “Maybe, but…while you’re there, want to do me a favor?”

“Sure.”

“I need these books,” he said, and rattled off three titles. She scrounged in her purse for a pen.

“All right, I’ll get them-if they have them.”

“I have a feeling that they do. Want to meet me at Craig’s place?”

He didn’t call it “my” house. He called it Craig’s place.

He didn’t intend to stay.

“Sure,” she said. “I’ll get the books and be right there.”

She hung up. Bartholomew was watching her. “Well?”

“I’m meeting him at his house. Or-the Beckett house.”

“The museum?” Bartholomew asked, frowning.

“No, no. The old Beckett homestead. Are you-coming with me?”

“Good God, no. The Lord alone knows where the two of you might start madly coupling once you’re there! Far more than I want to know or see or…”

Katie groaned. “That’s not all that…it’s certainly not all that we do.”

“I’m going to hang around the street. Watch the Fantasy Fest preparations. See if I can find the regular habits of my lady in white. But I’ll walk you over, and I’ll not be gone too long. God knows, that fellow is so determined to find the truth, he keeps leaving you alone.”

Katie planted her hands on her hips. “Chill. He’s going to get me some pepper spray. And I’m not the karate kid, but I’m not a ninety-pound weakling, either.”

Bartholomew leaned toward her, his face set seriously. “Katie, this killer is strong. It seems that he snuck up on Stella Martin, surprised her and killed her with his bare hands. You’re not a weakling, but this isn’t someone you want to tackle.”

“Which makes it almost impossible for Da

“Come, my dear, let me escort you,” Bartholomew said.

“I just have to get these books,” she said.

At home, David cleared off the formal dining-room table, removing his grandmother’s silver candlesticks and the lace doilies she had used to protect the beautiful old, carved mahogany.

He laid out the photos from the original crime scene.

He also laid out his photos of the second crime scene.

He set out the files with pertinent crime-scene information and witness reports, but the latter revealed nothing. No one had seen anyone at the museum. No one had seen anyone on the street. No one had seen anything. In Tanya’s case, she had been at O’Hara’s bar. She had left. She had never been seen again by anyone-except the killer-until she had appeared in the tableau.