Ghost Shadow

David stared at Mike.

Mike glared back at him. “Hey, you know what-you were the one in the hot seat, not me. I talked to her earlier. We know she was at O’Hara’s. I was home all night after that.”

“Something you can’t prove,” David pointed out. “Where were you that night, Sam?”

“She was my sister,” Sam said angrily. “And, hey, I’m sorry, the people who could vouch for me-like the people who could vouch for you-are dead. You are a prick, Beckett. She was my sister. And no one ever looked at me with accusation before.”

“There’s another dead woman,” David said.

“And you were suddenly back here, just like the two of us,” Sam pointed out.

“Actually, I’ve been back frequently,” Mike said.

“Right. Dressing up as Robert the Doll and lying to your wife,” David pointed out.

“Point is, I’ve been here before-and you and Sam have been gone forever,” Mike said.

“I live in Key Largo. Two-hour drive. If I’d wanted to kill someone again and set them up in a Key West exhibit, I could have done it at any time,” Sam pointed out.

Liam started the car up again. “I’ll be checking on your whereabouts the night Tanya was murdered, Mike. Procedure, you know.”

“Look, we believe one another,” Sam said. “You bastards need to find out who did kill my sister.”

Liam drove straight down Roosevelt to the police station. It was a long walk back to Old Town, but he made it evident that he was parking and going back into his office, and that was that.

Mike and Sam sat in the car for a minute, and then got out. “You heading back, Beckett?” Mike asked David.

“In a while.”

The two walked off, muttering to one another.

“That Beckett isn’t a cop-he’s a filmmaker or a cat photographer or whatever. And suspicious as hell, if anyone asks,” Mike said.

“Yeah, but, hey, he’s a Beckett. Damned Becketts still think they own the island,” Sam complained.

Liam, watching them, gri

“So, let’s see if we can check out Mike’s alibi. Then I’ll head on back in. I want to hang around O’Hara’s tonight. I figure things will start getting wild.”

David waited, mulling over the past, and the present, while Liam went through various conversations with Miami and Miami-Dade County law-enforcement groups.

Why did Da

Liam set his phone down, drawing David’s attention. “Mike Sanderson was telling the truth. A vice guy in Miami remembers the sting. There was a Tiffany, and when it all went to court, she vouched for Mike Sanderson’s statement-she had just given him a massage.”

Scratch another one off the list.

“Thanks, Liam,” he said.

“It’s a walk-you want a ride?”

“I’ll catch a cab,” David told him.

He called Katie on his way back and found out that she was at the house. He had himself dropped off at her address, and when he knocked, Sean let him in. “Good timing. We’re about to head out again. Katie is in the parlor.”

“Thanks,” David said. He looked at Sean, who was wearing a pirate’s bandana, a tricorn hat, striped pants and a black poet’s shirt.

Sean grimaced. “Uncle Jamie wants to support the pirates.”

“Great.”

He went into the parlor. Katie was perched on the love seat, his family ledger book in her hands. She didn’t even notice him as he entered.

He noticed her.

She wore pirate attire extremely well. It was definitely a look, and though she was completely covered, he thought that she’d rival any woman who was stark naked. Just the line of her throat and collarbone was visible, and the beautiful rise of rounded breasts. Her waist seemed minuscule, and her pirate boots added a touch of the wicked woman to her apparel.

He whistled.

She looked up, startled, nearly dropping the book.

“Hey,” she said. She looked at him curiously.

“I visited the jailbirds. Mike Sanderson has an absolute alibi for the night Tanya was killed.”

“Oh?”

“He was with an escort,” David said.

She was startled. “But, I thought…”

“He says that he was certain that he’d already been ditched-for me,” David told her.

She looked at him sympathetically, then rose, carefully putting the book down. “I need you to bring those books over tomorrow. It’s important, I think.”

“Why? I’m not arguing the point, but why are you so convinced?”

“I don’t know how to explain it to you.” She smiled. “The little ghost of an idea keeps coming to me. It keeps leading me back to the hanging tree.”

“The hanging tree?” David said.

“Your ancestor avenged a pirate, did you know that?” Katie asked. She jerked forward suddenly, just as if she had been pushed. “Privateer!” she said firmly.

Frowning, he said, “I know the story, of course. Some wretch named Smith managed to shift the blame for his own deed to another man. That man was hanged by a lynch mob. Later, the first Craig Beckett saw to it that Smith was hanged, as well. Katie, it was close to two hundred years ago. That’s one hell of a long time to bear a grudge.” He smiled. “You don’t think that Smith’s ghost is rising up to kill women and try to frame the Becketts, do you?”

“Ghosts don’t really have that kind of strength,” she said.

“What? Katie, these murders are being committed by someone who is flesh and blood, whatever may have gone on in the past.”

“Of course,” she said. “But I do think that the key lies in the past.”

“Absolutely. I’ll get the books tomorrow-we’ll spend all the time before you have to go to work reading through them.”

She smiled and nodded, and then her smile faded. “Any word on Da

“I thought that you believed that he was dead.”

“I know that he’s dead. I was wondering if they had found him.”

“How do you know for certain?” David asked her.

Sean came to the doorway. “She saw it in a dream. Come on, Katie, you don’t want to get started late tonight. The flaming temper of the Irish-American Jamie O’Hara is a terrible thing to behold.”

“Yep, let’s go,” Katie agreed, anxious to be out.

When they walked in, David found himself instantly welcomed by Jamie O’Hara-who had shirt and frock coat waiting for him. “Arrrrr!” Jamie said. “Pirate night! They’re closing the street off-there’s going to be a parade happening in a few minutes. Katie, the place is hopping. Start them off with something pirate-y, will you?”

“Sure-can I boot up the computer and set the microphones and the amps?” Katie asked.

“Arrrr!” Jamie said in good humor.

“Hey!” Sean nudged David. “Head on back and change into that pirate garb, my good fellow.”

David was about to protest; he didn’t. Why not? He wanted to blend into the crowd. He wanted to watch. Years had gone by now, and he had no intention of leaving until the whole thing was solved. He couldn’t explain it but he felt as if some pieces of the puzzle were coming together. He’d watch until, eventually, the killer made a mistake.

He headed back to the men’s restroom to change. The acoustics and sound system in the place were good. He could hear Katie, welcoming everyone to Key West, Fantasy Fest and O’Hara’s Pub. She pointed out her request slips and her songbooks, and said that anyone was welcome to ask her about a song not in the books, as well-some could be found on the computer. She opened the evening with a charming rendition of a Disney pirate song-one that every pirate in the place sang along with her.

He headed out, appropriately attired then in his huge blousy shirt, frock coat, swashbuckling hat-and Levi’s jeans and Nike sneakers. As he headed around the bar to the stage area, he saw that Katie had stopped singing.

The pirates in the place assumed it was their job to keep going, and they were all certainly rowdy enough-and drunk enough-to do so.