And then, as they passed through the parlor, her bra. But before he even had a chance to follow her, she suddenly came rushing back, picking up the bra.
He collected her shirt as she reached down for it. Their eyes met, and she said, “Sorry!”
“Ah, the captain. Well, we’d best hurry up in case he returns.”
“Living with a ghost isn’t easy.”
“Tell me about it!” he murmured.
She smiled, turned and headed out of the parlor to the hallway, and then raced up the stairs.
He followed her, working at his shirt as he did, letting it fall when he reached her room—then closing the door before going any farther. Just in case.
And grateful, of course, the captain was a gentleman of a ghost, the kind who would always knock at a closed door.
He gave no more thought to the dead; his mind was then upon the beautiful creature before him, stripped down, flushing slightly, and ready to fly into his arms again.
“I’ve never been like this before in my life,” she whispered, just before finding his lips.
“Then I’m awfully damned glad that you’re like this now,” he told her. They entwined, kissed and fell on the bed. She was electric; she was always filled with such sweet passion. He had a feeling that she was telling the complete truth; she seldom gave of herself.
So when she did, it was completely.
As always, the taste of her was exquisite. Fantastically arousing. And yet, even as she shimmied her body down his, doing amazing things to him, he thought that it was more than her ability to tease, arouse and seduce. He was falling in love with her mind, cliché though that might be. He loved her view on the world, the way she talked, her ability with people...
Then, he ceased to think about such things. Because she really did have one damned natural talent. And all he could think about was his lips upon her everywhere, the caress of her tongue upon his flesh, moving into her, and moving together.
Later, she lay easily against him. She didn’t speak. And he realized that she had fallen asleep, curled against him. He was exceedingly glad of just the way she lay against him, sleeping so readily...trusting him so completely.
He didn’t sleep so effortlessly; tomorrow, he and Liam would search Ewan’s boat, the Great Escape, and they’d board the Memory again, and search the dinghies and speak with the men.
But first, he’d find a way to have a talk with Bill Worth.
* * *
Brodie’s phone rang at seven. Kody was still half asleep and luxuriating in the feel of his body, which was spooned around her own.
He moved to answer the phone.
His voice was deep and groggy. “Liam?”
He listened for a minute, and then answered.
“Sure. But I want to see Kody into work first.”
He ended the call.
Kody said softly, “I don’t go to work at seven,” she said. “And you don’t need to see me into work.”
“I don’t like what happened last night.”
“I don’t, either. But it’s daytime—the streets will be filled with people, and Colleen will be working with me. Well, it’s not really daytime yet, but it will be. And some people—obviously Liam—seem to think that this is daytime.”
He laughed, kissing her quickly, but rising. “Trust me. It’s daytime,” he told her. He started to walk away. She felt a rush of something warm settle over her; she loved just watching him walk away. It certainly wasn’t everything, but even from behind, he had an impressive appearance.
He came back and leaned over her.
“We have to start early—we have a lot to do.”
“With Bill?”
“With Bill, for one. With Ewan’s boat, with the dinghies off the Memory.”
“You think one of the divers, or one of the techs, or...Ewan?”
“Told you—we have to explore all the possibilities.”
“Okay.”
“Do you want to get up and open early? No, that wouldn’t work. I don’t want you there alone. Come to think of it, I don’t want you here alone.”
“This is my home. I worked hard for it. I can’t let myself become afraid of it,” she said, and she wasn’t sure if she was telling him—or herself.
He looked at her a moment. “I’m going to shower and dress. And then go through every room here, like we did last night. And then, when I leave, you lock the door. And you don’t open it until you’re ready to go straight to the museum.”
“Actually, I’m going to go ahead and get up—and stop by Rosy’s first. She’s always up by seven—she likes to paint with the first light of day.”
“All right.”
Twenty minutes later, he was showered and dressed. Kody slipped into a robe and came out with him to go through her house.
He was more thorough than she would have ever imagined possible; no closet was left untouched—anything that might even fit a five-year-old was checked out.
She saw him to the door to lock it after he left. He paused. She thought that he was going to comment on the fact that they hadn’t seen either of their ghosts—Cliff or the captain.
But instead he asked her softly, “What are we going to do?”
She looked at him, curious at first, and then realized what he was saying.
What were they going to do? He was from Virginia; she was a Conch. And this time that they were together would not be endless.
“I...”
Tell him the truth? That she’d barely been living as a full human being, and she hadn’t even known it. The museum, the past, work...she’d been driven, and maybe that was not even a bad thing, because she’d been waiting...for someone just like him.
“Something,” she whispered honestly. “We’re going to have to do something. I mean...”
“Something,” he replied. “Because I don’t think I can go back.”
She thought that he would kiss her goodbye; she was surprised by the emotion that seemed to be holding him away.
“Something. We’ll figure it out,” he said, and he turned to head down the street.
Kody locked her door and turned around. She jumped. She’d been missing her resident ghost; he was back.
He seemed very grave. “I’ve been watching,” he said softly.
“Me?” Kody exclaimed with shock.
“Lord, no!” the captain said, horrified. “No!”
“Watching...?”
“I’ve been about, first, trying to see what the chatter might be around the island, and that was what I discovered, nothing but chatter. I have spent time observing Adelaide Firestone, and she seems to be nothing but a lovely young lady. I have been around your friends, Rosy, Bill and Emory...and I am worried.”
Kody stared at him. “And you think that Bill is somehow involved.”
“It’s curious, I will say. Rosy tries to be strong. She tells Sonny that she is all right, that she is doing fine, and that she will be all right alone—she must learn to live again. Emory comes to the house, and he stays and leaves. Bill comes, and stays and leaves.”
“Why does this disturb you?” Kody asked. “They’re all friends. Sonny is being an especially good friend; she doesn’t even live down here.”
He didn’t reply to that. “I went down by the water, first, by Mallory Square and the hotel, and over by the docks. I listened to the men, the way they talked about the boats out by the wreck of the slave ship. They talked about the men working for Sea Life, they wondered if there isn’t something more on that ship, something that someone might be looking for. Gold? I don’t imagine that such a thing could be—the time was way before my era, way before the war. There would be no reason to be smuggling anything of great value.” He seemed to take a long ghostly breath. “I thought... I thought that I could help you. And what I have discovered is nothin
g that you don’t already know. There is a connection, but what it is, I cannot figure.”
“I wish I could hug you,” Kody told him softly. “You’re trying, and we’re trying, and that’s the best that anyone can do.”
“You think that someone has been in this house. I’ve failed you. I haven’t seen anyone. I don’t know who could have been in here, or why.”
“It’s all right,” Kody said softly. “I’m just going to shower. I’m going to stop by Rosy’s myself, and then head into the museum.”
“I will be in the parlor, watching the news. With the cat. He is a very good cat. He has come to accept me quite nicely.”
She smiled and walked over, trying to hug him. She embraced nothing, and yet she was certain he felt her love.
* * *
Brodie was ready to head out with Liam to Ewan Keegan’s boat, the Great Escape.
While he was headed out to meet Liam, his phone rang. It was Angela.
“Anything else?” he asked her anxiously.
“Nothing new on the ship, but I have looked into the woman who drowned,” Angela said.
“And?”
“Well, the only connection I can find between the victims has to do with music—and Michael McCoy. Mathilda Sumner played with Michael McCoy down in Key West.”
“Yeah, I figured as much. We’re still following up on Ewan Keegan’s boat and the Sea Life crew, as well.”
“You’ve got some help coming,” Angela said.
“Help?” he asked, curious. “You know, I’m homing in on this myself.”
“It’s all cool. Adam Harrison called the powers that be down there. Jackson is either on his way, or he’s there already. He has some of our forensic people down from Miami. Not Krewe people,” she warned, “but a great forensic team.”
“Oh. I just wonder if the Key West police—”
“Detective Beckett has welcomed federal help. It’s a national issue, really, because of the history of the ship.”
“That’s great—thanks.”
“Well, your brothers—”
“Oh, Lord.”
“They wanted to come down. But they’re in the academy. Jackson swore that he’d handle things—and try to twist your arm. Hey, Brodie, trust me, it’s good to work with others who see the dead,” she said flatly.
“I know.” Liam Beckett had proven to be a hell of a man, allowing him to be a temporary partner.
“Thank you,” he told Angela.
“It’s the way we do things,” she said. She hesitated. “The Bureau lost a man down there a few years ago, and we’ve had agents who were involved with Key West before. And as far as the Krewe goes, well, some people think there are certain meccas for areas where spiritual activity is heavier than others, often involving crimes of the day, and Key West is one of those places. Anyway, no one will step on anyone’s toes.”
“I’m not worried about that. If someone has answers, I’m all for it.”
“I knew you’d feel that way. So does Beckett—I imagine that was why he was willing to let you in from the get-go.”
“And I found the body.”
“That, too.”
“Tell my big brothers...”
“Yeah?”
“Just tell them thanks.”
“I think your mother was getting antsy,” Angela told him. “And your father even bugged them about what was going on with you.”
He groaned. Sometimes it was a tough thing to be haunted by one’s dead parents.
Then again, he knew that they were incredibly lucky; Maeve and Hamish had been incredibly loving parents. Busybodies at times, but that was worth the care.
Even in death.
“Just tell them all thank you—and that we will find the truth.”
She agreed.
He met up with Liam at the coffee shop just down from Kody’s and told him about the call he’d just had, and that FBI agents might soon be joining them.
“Here’s the thing,” Liam said. “The US Marshal’s Office has just a couple of men here—the local bases for them and the FBI are up in Miami. The police department is usually clogged with lesser crimes. We all depend on each other down here, FBI, Coast Guard, you name it. So, your friend bringing down some guys to really be thorough, hell—damned good thing.”
“And that leaves us free to see if we can’t catch Bill Worth at home.”
“My thoughts exactly, my friend.”
Bill didn’t open the door immediately. But they had waited long enough. They banged and rang the bell until he came to the door, answering it like a man only half awake and completely confused.
“Hey. What are you all doing here?” he asked.
“We need to talk,” Brodie said.
“We need to talk? I hardly know you. Liam—”
“We need to talk,” Liam said.
Bill shrugged. “Come on in. And be grateful that I have a coffeemaker that’s set on automatic. I may have a cup and be able to talk.” He was still standing in the doorway in briefs and a plaid terry robe. He stepped aside and let them in.
Once they were in the house, he headed to his dining room. He disappeared into the kitchen and returned with a coffeepot. “You want cream or sugar? You’re cops, you’re not supposed to. Oh, McFadden, wait. You’re not a cop.”
“Black coffee is fine,” Brodie said.
“What’s all this about? Why the hell are you two looking at me like that?” Bill asked them. “Good Lord, you don’t think I somehow gave old Cliff nuts as a joke or something, thinking that he’d just choke up?”
“The past,” Liam said.
“What about the past?” Bill demanded. “Hey, I’ve been clean for years. I didn’t do anything to anyone else in the old days—just beat the hell out of myself.”
“Gonzales,” Brodie said, waiting for the man’s reaction.
The name fell heavy on the air, and Brodie was certain that Bill Worth knew he was a descendant of the man.
Hell, he wrote about history, and he certainly knew how to research.
“Gonzales,” Bill repeated. Then he leaned back, apparently having thought it out quickly—and determined that the truth might serve him best.
“You’re talking about my wretched ancestor, right? Yeah, I do know all about him. He was a bastard. Ran a massive cotton plantation in Georgia—there are letters out there that condemn the man as one of the most vicious slave holders who ever lived. He thought human beings were expendable and easily replaced. What about him?”
“He was planning to buy slaves off the Victoria Elizabeth,” Brodie told him.
“What?” Bill seemed honestly surprised.
“Arnold Ferrer was in possession of an exchange of letters between the two men,” Liam added.
“Well. That’s not entirely a shock,” Bill said. “Naturally, I knew about the man. But I didn’t know how he procured all his people. I only know about him because I studied my family tree and dug in and found out. Oh, by the way, I also had a relative responsible for helping to break Nazi code during World War II. That’s the past for all of us—some good guys back there, and some bad guys back there.”
He looked at the two of them and then groaned. “That makes me a suspect in Ferrer’s murder? I don’t run around being proud of the guy, but if someone asks me, I admit it. What good would it do to try to hide that past by killing someone in the present? That’s ludicrous.”
He seemed to be telling the truth.
But murderers could be damned good liars, too.
“Are you interested in Rosy Bullard?” Liam asked him flatly.
Bill frowned. “Rosy. She’s a sweet and beautiful woman. Am I interested in her? Yes, she is a very good friend. And I’m interested in Sonny, and in Kody, and in all my friends. And Sally McCoy Frampton, and her new husband—they are
friends. And if I’m really interested in anyone...”
He broke off.
“Go on,” Brodie prodded.
“It’s none of your damned business,” Bill said flatly. “Hey, are you done here? Because if you’re not arresting me for having an asshole for a great-great-great-whatever grandfather, I want you out of my house.”
“Right,” Brodie said. “But, Bill, bear in mind—you were close to Cliff Bullard. You were here when he dropped dead.”
“So were you. And you, Liam.”
“But we didn’t buy him any drinks,” Liam said.
“Get out! And what—I left the festival that Saturday night, got my dive gear, lured a guy out, killed him, made my way out to the depths where the Sea Life crew is working, dove a hundred feet with a body, and made it back for Sunday morning?”
“Something like that, yeah. That’s what we’re looking at,” Liam said.
Bill threw his hands up. “You can ask! I was at that damned festival!”
“We know you were there,” Liam said.
“We just don’t know if you left.”
“Get out, get the hell out!” Bill said.
They started to the door and then turned back. “You weren’t in Kody’s museum yesterday, by any chance.”
“You saw me, McFadden. She ran out. I never got a chance to go in.”
Again, the man seemed to be telling the truth. But he could just be one damned good liar.
“Thanks, Bill. We’ll be in touch,” Liam said.
“Yeah, well, hell, we’re always in touch, huh? Happens when you live down here.”
They saw themselves out.
Liam looked at Brodie, one eyebrow quirked in question.
“Hell if I know,” he said.
“Ditto.”
“Well, let’s get on out to the Great Escape and the Memory.”
* * *
Kody felt guilty that she hadn’t checked in on Rosy in a while, so she stopped by before heading to the museum. Sonny opened the door.
“Kody, girl, come on in.”
“How’s she doing?” Kody asked.
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