Ghost Shadow

“When he leaves, I’ll be glad of the time we shared,” Katie said stubbornly.

Sean looked around the room. “Bartholomew, talk some sense into her.”

Sean started for the stairs.

“Sean,” Katie said.

“What?” he turned to look at her, a hand on the banister.

“Da

Sean let out a long, low groan. “Do you happen to know who killed him? I mean, does he happen to know who killed him? Or where he is, for that matter?”

She shook her head. “He-he doesn’t really know how to be a ghost yet.”

Sean just continued up the stairs.

Katie sat back down at the table. Bartholomew perched on the edge of the table again, gri

David was glad of the phone call when it came. He’d been reading computer screens for so long, his eyes were blurring. He was going to find the truth. Where Mike Sanderson had been and when.

Thanks to Liam-and the fact that everyone knew Pete tolerated him, and he’d gone to school with half the force-he was able to hang around the station and make use of it.

“David, it’s Sean.”

“Is everything all right?”

“Yeah, everything is fine.” Sean hesitated a minute. “I just wanted to check in. Any word on Da

David was quiet a minute. “I think he might be dead, too. I don’t think he could have been the killer. I think Pete does, though. He’s been out most of the day, hunting for Da

“All right, well…I’ve known Da

“Thanks.”

When he hung up, David stood and stretched. He closed the files and glanced at his watch. It was eight o’clock, and he was getting hungry. He thought about stopping for takeout, but decided that though he could call, he’d just walk back to Katie’s house and find out what she wanted to do for di

What they wanted to do. Her brother was home now. Sean would be included.

He stuck his head into Pete’s office, where Liam was still working. “Do you ever go home?” he asked his cousin.

Liam looked at him bleakly. “I want to be on the street. Can’t-not with Pete out. Sure, I get to go home. I usually have it pretty easy. But, sweet Mother Mary, this is just not good. Fantasy Fest-in the midst of all this.” He sat back and tapped a pencil on the desk. “Mike Sanderson is back out there now, and Tanya’s brother is out on the street, as well. No one seems to care too much about Stella Martin, other than her friend Morgana. She’ll wind up in a pauper’s grave.”

“Did you follow through on the location where I found the charge card?”

“I did. Couldn’t find anything else. Here’s what’s sad, really sad. This guy is good. He doesn’t leave evidence. He leaves the bodies in an exposed place-seriously exposed. They’re posed almost as if he’s fooling around, as if he’s using the most bizarre local story. I talked to one of our police behavioral profilers today. He’s convinced that the killer has to be local and uses the scenarios to prove that he’s local, that this is his place.”

“Great.”

“I’m hoping we find something soon. Before he strikes again.”

“Me, too,” David said. “Well, thanks for letting me pry. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Katie goes back to work,” Liam said.

“I’ll be there. Oh, and Sean got home today.”

“He did?” Liam seemed surprised.

“Yeah. Katie knew he was coming. She didn’t know exactly when,” he said dryly, remembering how Sean O’Hara had come upon them.

“I didn’t think he was expected for another few weeks,” Liam said.

“What’s wrong with him being home?” David asked.

“Nothing. I was just thinking that it is all so odd. You’re back. Sam Barnard is here. Mike Sanderson has apparently been coming back for years, and now…Sean O’Hara, too.”

“Maybe it’s the tides,” David said.

“It’s odd. That’s all-it’s odd. Hey,” Liam said, changing the subject. “If I don’t hear from you during the day, I’ll see you at O’Hara’s tomorrow night.”

“It’s Fantasy Fest starting up,” David said.

Liam nodded, and let his head fall to the desk.

David left then, deciding to walk home and see what was going on. There were throngs on the sidewalks everywhere. Music blared from the clubs. He passed the giant effigy of Robert the Doll. It appeared to be anchored at the feet by a large weight, covered by plastic.

A woman walked by him, snorting. “It smells almost as bad as Bourbon Street!” she told her companions.

It did smell, David thought. He paused for a moment. It wasn’t bad booze, it wasn’t vomit. There was something dead somewhere. The Keys weren’t immune to rats, and Lord knew, there were roosters everywhere. He couldn’t pinpoint the odor; there was too much perfume in the air, too much smoke from the fellows hanging outside with cigars, and too much alcohol. Someone had just broken a bottle of bourbon somewhere nearby.

He kept walking. He was outside O’Hara’s when he suddenly heard shouting. Frowning, even though he knew Katie wasn’t working, he felt his heart pound. He rushed in. Clarinda was there; she had just jumped back from a table because the two men who had been seated at it were now standing.

“Fellows, you’re going to have to sit, calm down or take it outside or I will call the police!” Clarinda said.

They didn’t hear her.

One of the men was Mike Sanderson.

The other was Sam Barnard.

“Hey!” David said with deep authority.

The busboys were backing up. Jon Merrillo was coming around the bar nervously.

“Hey, you heard Clarinda,” David said.

Sam looked at him, and shook his head sadly. “I’m sorry, but screw this!” he said. And he turned on Mike Sanderson with a wicked right hook.

David dove in, shouting for Clarinda to call the police. He tackled Sam Barnard down while Mike Sanderson made it back to his feet. Sanderson then tried to punch Barnard, but all he managed to do was fall on the man’s abdomen.

They were both drunk as skunks.

David dragged Sam from beneath Mike, and by then, uniformed cops were spilling in. They dragged up both men, and assured them both they could discuss it all at the station. Clarinda turned to David, thanking him.

“That might have gotten really ugly,” she said.

Jon had joined her by then. “Oh, man, they’re both huge. They could have really torn this place to pieces.”

“I don’t think so-they’re drunk. They’d have passed out before they’d gotten too many hits in.”

“Well, thanks. Can I get you anything on the house?” Jon asked him.

“Sure. Actually, doesn’t need to be on the house. What didn’t we eat last night? I’ll take three of anything different to go,” David said.

“You got it,” Jon told him.

Jon headed to the kitchen. He helped Clarinda right the chairs that had fallen. The other customers seemed disappointed that the show was over. They had turned back to their own conversations.

“Well, I guess it’s good in a way,” Clarinda said.

“What’s good?”

“That those two got into a fight. That means that they’ll be locked up for the night, and no one will have to be afraid of them.”

“Afraid-of Mike Sanderson or Sam Barnard?”

“Let’s face it, Mike Sanderson seems a little whacko. He’s spent years-with no one knowing it-dressing up like Robert the Doll. And Barnard…well, he was Tanya’s brother. He might be out for some kind of revenge, or God knows, he’s here, and there’s another murder…who knows? Maybe he secretly hated his sister. Maybe he strangled her in a rage. Stranger, more bizarre things have happened in Key West.”