Добавить в цитаты Настройки чтения

Страница 62 из 68

The room was cold, sterile. He could remember similar occasions, but in far less pristine conditions, when he had served in the military.

Land mine, a man’s body all but blown to bits, picking up the pieces.

Unchecked syphilis.

Gunfire straight in the face.

Da

It wasn’t right.

No, it wasn’t right. And why Da

“All right, he died somewhere else,” Liam said, suddenly impatient. “How did he die?”

There was silence. The medical examiner looked at him. “Liam, that’s what I’m trying to determine.”

Still, something about Liam’s words made him change his intended direction. He turned to one of his assistants. “Let’s slide him into X-ray.”

Rearrangements were made. They stared at a computer screen.

“X-ray of the body shows a broken cervix. The neck was broken when he was strangled.”

Sean stared up at the Beckett museum.

Katie looked at her brother, and then the old Victorian mansion.

There was something forlorn about it today. Craig had loved the place. He had believed that he had found a way to preserve a history he loved. He’d been such a good and decent man, and she had really loved him. What was the future for the museum? The oddities museum down the street was already back up and ru

“Hate the place. Hate it,” Sean said, looking at her.

“It’s a beautiful old house,” Katie said.

“You don’t remember everything that happened as clearly as I do,” Sean said. “David had been my friend. Tanya and Sam…they’d been friends. Everything fell apart. Craig Beckett was never the same. David left, the Barnards left.”

“People move on, no matter what,” Katie said.

“Maybe I hate it most because David had been my friend. Did I back away from him?” Sean said.

“We were kids,” she reminded him. She smiled, touching her brother’s shoulder. “Maybe you actually learned from it, and became a stronger person?”

He laughed. “All righty, Katie-oke. Let’s do this thing.”

Katie tried the door, remembering how it had been unopened the night she had come to find David here. What a fool she had been, walking right in. Bartholomew had warned her. But she hadn’t believed at the time that such a heinous crime could come back to haunt Key West again, in the way that it had. She had been worried about a commercial venture, which seemed silly and so long ago already!

Today, the door was securely locked; both bolts were secured. But her keys worked, and within seconds, they stepped into the entry.

Sunlight gleamed in. From the stairway, Hemingway looked down at them both, as if they were intruders on a secret party that raged when the doors were closed.

“Where are the keys?” Sean asked.

“Desk. Third drawer.”

He leapt over the turnstile and pulled open the third drawer. Katie leapt the stile and stood behind him, looking around. Sunlight couldn’t penetrate the whole house. She was pretty sure that David still kept auxiliary lights in the floor, but they were on a timer.

Now, with the sun falling but not quite down, the place was cast in a strange shadow. It was somehow disturbing. Through the door to her left, she could see a number of the displays.

She had never been afraid or uneasy in the museum. Even knowing its history.

The figures were frozen in place.

And yet, in the ghost shadow of the house, it seemed that they might move at any minute.

And, if she were to move into the hallway, she knew what exhibit she would come to. That of the Otto family, Artist House and Robert the Doll.

She didn’t want to look through the doorway that led to the exhibit. Da

She had to look. She had to make sure that the little robotic was standing right where he should have been.

He was.

Sean was oblivious to her.

“What’s the matter with David? Sending us on a wild-goose chase. They’re not here,” Sean said.





“Of course they are. He wouldn’t have told us to come if the keys weren’t here,” Katie said. “Oh, hell. It’s already heading toward sunset. I’m not going to have any time to read anything if we don’t hurry. I’m supposed to be at work soon.”

“Okay, where did he say-exactly-that they were?” Sean said.

“The third drawer, under the old guidebooks,” Katie said. “He was certain of it.”

“They’re not here,” Sean said.

Bartholomew had followed them in. “Impatient fellow, your brother.”

Katie sighed. “You, chill,” she said to Sean. “And, you! You just hush up,” she said to Bartholomew.

“Great. Your ghost is still with us?” Sean asked.

“Tell him that I’m learning to work a razor. I’ll shave his hair right off his head next time,” Bartholomew said.

“Bartholomew is with us, yes,” Katie said. “And David might have been wrong, or mistaken. Try the second drawer. Never mind, move. I’ll find the keys. I don’t mind messing anything up here. I was already in here with Liam,” Katie said.

She glanced up as she started rummaging through the drawers. Sunset was coming, and it was causing the light to play tricks.

It looked as if something was moving.

Something…a ghost shadow, in that first exhibit where Robert the Doll and the Otto family reigned supreme.

“Katie, you need to get out of here!” Bartholomew said.

“What the hell is that?” Sean demanded.

“Sean, let’s just go,” Katie said.

But Sean didn’t heed her warning. “Katie, call the cops,” he said. He started toward the exhibit.

“Sean, no, let’s just get out of here!” Katie pleaded.

“Whoever the hell you are,” Sean yelled angrily, his voice loud and deep, “show yourself. Come on out-you’re breaking and entering and the cops are on the way.”

Katie had dropped her purse when she’d started rifling through the drawers. She reached for it, couldn’t find her cell phone and dumped the contents on the desk.

“Sean!” she called.

Bartholomew swore; she saw the ghost go striding after her brother.

Sean became shadow, walking through the doorway to the Otto family tableau.

She found her phone. Her fingers curled around it. She keyed in 911, and to her dismay, got a busy signal. “Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

She searched her entries and found Pete Dryer’s cell number and punched it in. There was no answer.

“Son of a bitch!” Sean roared.

“Pete, Pete, it’s Katie O’Hara, I’m in the old Beckett museum, and there’s someone in here. Please, please get this, and come quickly!”

Sean let out an oath, and then it seemed as if the world exploded. The sounds of breaking glass, thumping, crashes, came shrieking out at her.

“Sean!”

Katie grabbed a paperweight from the desk, and went tearing in after her brother.

They were in the car, driving back to town. David turned to Liam.

“The killer is playing with Key West legend. He’s someone that history means a great deal to. He’s fascinated by all the legends.” He was quiet for a minute. “You don’t know anyone named Smith, do you?”

Liam laughed. “Smith? In my life, I’m sure I’ve met a number of people named Smith. And Gonzalez, Rodriguez, Jones…and I even know a pack of O’Haras, none of them related.”

“Okay, Liam. I believe that Tanya was murdered to hurt our family. So, there is someone out there who is carrying a grudge. And it seems to be a grudge that’s hundreds of years old. Okay, first off, think about it. It couldn’t be Sanderson to begin with-he was a tourist. He didn’t know the Elena legend, he didn’t know our family. He was an outsider.”

“An outsider with an alibi,” Liam reminded him.

“All right, as odd as it may sound then-Sam Barnard.”

“Tanya’s own brother?”