Ghost Shadow

She gave him a kiss on the cheek. “I’ve got to get back to work. Thank you, David.”

Then she made a face. “Fantasy Fest.”

“Hey, it can be great.”

“So you say-that’s because guys love to see women with nothing but paint on their breasts.”

“Ouch!” He gri

Clarinda laughed. “I repeat-” She made a face. “Fantasy Fest!”

He went to the bar to pay for the food, but Jon wouldn’t let him. He thanked him, took his to-go bags and headed back out.

He paused. So many sounds and scents in the air.

And yet…

Underlying it all…

There was the scent of death.

The knock on the door startled Katie.

She had left the kitchen to curl up on the sofa, the Beckett family book in her hands. Bartholomew was seated on the curve at her back.

“It’s just Beckett,” Bartholomew said.

She didn’t have to get up to answer the door; Sean got it.

“Cool. Di

Katie rose slowly, stretching. She saw David and smiled. “It’s shepherd’s pie from O’Hara’s, right?”

“Good nose,” he said.

“Oh, Katie has amazing senses,” Sean said dryly. “Set her all down in the dining room. I’ll get plates and utensils.”

Sean did so. Katie met David in the hallway. He reached for her, pulling her close, and kissed her lightly on the lips.

Sean made a point of clearing his throat. “If you two don’t mind? I’m not quite accustomed to this yet, if you could show a little restraint.”

“Sean, I hardly attacked the man,” Katie said.

Sean ignored her, as David opened the bags on the table.

“Anything at the station?” Sean asked.

“I told Liam that Katie thinks Da

They sat and passed around the tossed salad and entrées that David had brought. Sean went to the kitchen for beer, while Katie opted for a bottle of wine.

David wound up with a beer and a glass of wine.

“So, what’s up here?” David asked.

“I slept most of the day. I’m figuring that by tomorrow, I’ll be functioning again,” Sean said. “And, naturally, tomorrow night, I’ll be hanging out at the old family bar.”

“I read that book all day. David, your family was fascinating. You know, your aunts have kept records in it since the nineteen forties. They were children here during the Elena de Hoyos death and reburial. They remember the Otto family-they’re really fascinating.”

“You read the book all day?” David asked.

She nodded. “I’m convinced that… Oh, I don’t even know why. But museums preserve the past. That’s why a murderer might leave a body in a museum, right?” she asked.

Sean stared at her. “They have to find the guy this time,” he said.

“They will,” David said. “Someone will. So what else was in the book?”

“A lot was written by Craig Beckett, sea captain, a fellow who arrived in the area along with the first American settlers,” Katie said.

“Your family showed up around the same time, right?” he asked.

She laughed. “Yes, so we’ve always heard. But we don’t have anything like that great book your aunts have preserved so well.”

“‘The truth is out there,’” Sean quoted wearily.

“So what is going on tomorrow, do you know?” David asked Katie.

“Tomorrow, for us, it’s business as usual, with three extra servers. The first of the big pirate parties is happening tomorrow, and one of the bars is also throwing something it’s calling the Vampire Bite. I know that Mallory Square is supposed to be crazy, and that a lot of acts from elsewhere have already been out staking their ground.”

“It will be a long day,” David said thoughtfully.

“I agree.”

When they finished, Sean yawned. Katie told him to go back to bed. He gave her a kiss, bid David good-night and went up the stairs.

Katie was going to pick up, but David stopped her. “I’ll take care of it. You were yawning, too, and you have a really long day tomorrow. Go on up.”

“But-”

“I insist.”

She had left the book on the sofa in the parlor. She went back in to make sure that she had closed it, so that the delicate pages wouldn’t be damaged. She thought that Bartholomew might have kept reading it, but he was nowhere to be seen.

She sat, reading the page that had been left open.

It was about the legal execution of Eli Smith, brought about by Craig Beckett, and the witnesses he had dragged into court.

As she was looking at the page, David came behind her. He moved aside her hair with a gentle brush and kissed the back of her neck.

“Tomorrow will be a long day for you. You need your sleep.”

She turned in his arms. “Are you really thinking about sleep?”

“No. Yes. Eventually. I mean, if we get started early enough…”

“I do believe it’s early.”

“Great.”

She went up the stairs quickly, letting him follow her. That night, she closed her door carefully, and had to turn on the lights to keep from tripping when they went in. With the lights still on, she saw him lying like a lion awaiting his due on the bed, and she started to laugh, and jumped down on him.

And once again, it was the most natural thing in the world to become naked and intimate. They made love with laughter, and then with passion, and then with tenderness.

It was late when she rose at last to turn out the lights, and they finally fell asleep.

The city was like something that breathed, as real and vital as any man or woman who had ever lived. It was the tempest of the past, the craziness of the present, the promise of the future.

It was his city.

He loved it as a parent loved a child.

And his people had borne the injustice of others, when they should have had free run. What was fair, and what was not? Beckett had fired many a ca

And yet he had been so self-righteous!

Ah, well…

The bitterness assailed him as he watched the house, and yet he continued to do so, despite the torture it brought him. His muscles were clamped tight, his jawline hurt, his teeth hurt, he was grating on them so hard. And still he stood, covered by the shadow of the trees, and he watched.

He saw her silhouette.

Saw as she disrobed.

The drapes were drawn, but she was there, curved and lean and glorious.

And he saw Beckett. Saw him rise to take the naked woman into his arms.

Saw them fall down together.

Saw them rise…

In his blood, he could feel them writhing, feel the thunder of their hearts.

Hatred burned through him.

It was his city.

It had been his city throughout time. Some fools didn’t see it; they didn’t realize that things never really changed, nor did people. Beckett had been self-righteous and superior years ago, and he was the same now. But time came round and round, and the evils done in the past could and would be rectified now.

Beckett had brought death and destruction to his people. But he knew that it was all one. He knew that it was his duty to bring real justice to his city.

And the time was coming.

He was suddenly filled with pride; subterfuge was a game he played perfectly. There was simply not the least suggestion that he was anything but completely mentally fit; his calm, cool action and meticulous machinations proved that. That he could wait, that he could play the game of life so easily, and others never saw…

He nearly laughed aloud. There were those who might think him insane, when, in truth, he was simply a genius-a man with an agenda as deep and important as the spirit and the universe itself, and the brilliance to move about as if he were invisible. He knew more about life and death and time and pride than anyone, and he was so damned good that it was almost-criminal.