The Pirate Ghost

by Laura Pender

  “I’ll call you tonight,” Betty said.

  “Yes, that would be nice. No, wait. I’ve got that dinner date tonight,” she said glumly. “I won’t be home.”

  “You sure sound excited,” Betty said. “Is the guy really that much of a slug? The news said he was paying your legal fees.”

  “No, he’s not,” Tess said firmly. “I’m taking care of that myself. And he’s not really a slug. It’s just that he’s not my type.”

  “Well, get the free meal anyway,” Betty advised “Severance pay from this place isn’t going to buy too many groceries.”

  WHEN TESS EMERGED in the parking lot, Gabriel said, “They sacked you? I would have expected as much. Well, that allows you the time you need to clear your name, doesn’t it? Not to mention the small matter of bringing my treasure up. You’ve got too much afoot to bother with working.”

  “I like your attitude,” she said.

  Still, she felt glum about losing the job. Especially glum when she considered how hard it would be for a murder suspect to find new employment should Gabriel’s grand vision of salvaging a fortune in a pirate’s swag not come true. She left the parking lot feeling that one plan for her future, in which she’d invested over a year of her life, had come to nothing. Now she was back where she started in many respects.

  Though not quite. After leaving Darrell, she hadn’t gotten any severance pay. And she hadn’t had a man, alive or dead, to rely on for help. For that matter, she didn’t even have the promise of pirate treasure to hang her future on. When it came down to it, she was quite a bit better off than she had been.

  Maybe Gabriel was right. Losing her job might prove to be the best thing that could have happened to her.

  “YOUR INCORPORATION papers are filed and everything is ready to go, Charles.”

  Walter Chambers sliced into his steak and examined the meat briefly before bringing it to his mouth. He had been trying to watch his diet lately, so he was avoiding fat and ordering his steak cooked medium-well instead of rare as he liked it. He wasn’t about to give up steak altogether, but he would do what he could to have a healthier life-style.

  Now he was having an early lunch with Charles Dumont in the Holiday Inn downtown. The restaurant was excellent and the client was picking up the tab, so he was in a fine mood even if they did have to discuss business.

  “I’d like to see Paul Driscoll in my office, however. There’re a few matters we should clear up before everyone signs on the dotted line.”

  “I don’t know if he’ll be back in town before I have to leave,” Charles said. He sipped his wine and watched the lawyer eat. He didn’t like Walter Chambers very much—he was more honest than the lawyers Charles usually used—but he had been cheap and willing to step a bit outside of his area of expertise to set up the corporation. “Besides, he’s already signed the papers.”

  “Sure, but we haven’t,” Chambers said, swallowing quickly. “You can lose a bundle if he pulls out of the deal. And he can, you know. No matter what a contract says, it can be broken.”

  “He’s not going to pull out,” Charles said “If you have the papers, I’d like to sign them and get it over with.”

  “I’ve got them at my office. But as your lawyer, I’d advise you not to rush.”

  “I’m not rushing,” Charles said impatiently. Why didn’t this man just take his share and run? “But I have business to attend to, and I can’t keep everything on hold while my nervous lawyer rereads a standard contract.”

  “You’re the boss,” Chambers said. He shrugged and cut into his steak again.

  “What about Tess?” Charles asked him. “Is she in the clear?”

  “No, she’s in just as deep as before,” the lawyer told him. “Deeper, really, because she’s got the cops upset. Or I do, I suppose.”

  “They should learn to do their jobs better.”

  “Well, it looks like a dirty trick to them.” He sliced another piece of steak. The lunchtime meetings were the best thing about working for Charles Dumont. “Of course, since they can’t use the knife in court, they’ll probably never get a conviction.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, probably won’t even take it to trial. I’ve been checking into Darrell Cage, and he was one shifty guy. Nothing really illegal, you know, but shifty. He was involved in an entertainment complex that’s due to start construction next month. There was some nasty talk about how he obtained title to the property they’ll be building on. He made a lot of enemies on that deal, and he had plenty to start with.”

  “He was a crook?”

  “Not outright, but his partners sure are crooks.” Chambers smiled. “I wouldn’t hire Downey Construction to build anything for me if I wanted it to last. Of course, there again, it would be damn hard to prove anything about their building practices.”

  “Well, Cage wasn’t that smart. He was trying to make himself rich, but he wound up dead instead.” Charles laughed. “Bummer, eh?”

  “Sure, but it’s Tess’s problem now,” the lawyer said. He cut and chewed again. Then he paused, looking at the knife in front of him. There was something about the serrated blade and flat white handle that seemed familiar. He picked it up, turning it over in his hand. Yes, he’d seen a knife exactly like this somewhere else.

  Where had that been?

  BERNIE’S HAD ONLY BEEN open half an hour when Tess parked her car near the door and got out. She felt somewhat foolish. If people who knew she’d just lost her job saw her here, they would surely cluck their tongues in pity. They’d think she had gone directly to the bar with her final paycheck clutched tightly in her hand.

  Almost directly, that is, for she’d stopped at home to put her bathing suit on beneath her jeans and blouse. She and Gabriel were going diving for treasure.

  “So this is what passes for a tavern in these parts, is it?” Gabriel said as he entered the large room invisibly at her side. “An airy, bright place it is. Quite friendly. A switch from the establishments of my day, to be sure ”

  “This is where I parked on Saturday night,” she said, trying not to move her lips much, in case someone happened to be watching. “I don’t recall witnessing anything strange. But then, I didn’t even go inside.”

  “Well, then, we’ll have to find the innkeeper to see if he knows of anything happening.”

  There were only three patrons at the bar, two of them sharing a table at the rear and one at the far end. As Tess walked through the lounge, the bartender stood up behind the bar. He’d been busy opening a box of cocktail napkins, and now he began filling napkin holders.

  “Good morning,” Tess said, taking a stool across from him.

  He looked up and smiled. “Hi there. I didn’t even hear you come in. What’ll it be?”

  “I just need some help.”

  “Everybody needs help. What kind of help did you have in mind?”

  “A pint of stout would do for a start,” Gabriel said in her ear.

  Tess nudged the air next to her hoping to convince the spirit to be quiet.

  “I was wondering if anything out of the ordinary happened in the bar last Saturday night. Were you working?”

  “Not working, but I was here as a patron for some of the night,” he said, leaning a bit closer.

  “Did anything strange happen that night?” Tess repeated.

  “No, nothing strange,” he said after a moment’s thought. “Unless you consider a complete lack of fights in the parking lot strange. It was a pretty slow night, really. You know, you look familiar. Do you ever come here?”

  “I’ve never been in before,” Tess answered. Great, people were already recognizing her from the news. “There were no disturbances at all?”

  “No, not that I can think of. I mean, that was a couple days before they found Darrell Cage hacked up like that. Hey, that’s why you look...you’re Cage’s wife!”

  “Ex-wife,” she said.

  “That’s for sure.” He laughed. “So they arrested you and then ki
cked you back out again. I heard the cop screwed up the search.”

  “Yes, but that doesn’t mean I’m guilty.”

  “Hell no, I didn’t mean to make it sound like that. If you’re here now, you must be innocent.”

  “Why?”

  “Come on, why would you want to be seen out in public? I’ll bet you’ve got cops following you everywhere.”

  “Oh, yes, it’s a big parade. Did you know Darrell? It sounded like you did.”

  “Oh, yeah, he held the title to my lot,” he said.

  “Your lot? What, your home?”

  “No, the bar. I’m the owner. Sorry, I didn’t introduce myself. Tommy Mott,” he said, extending his hand. “This is my joint.”

  “Tess Miller.” She shook his hand. “Why did Darrell hold your mortgage? He wasn’t a banker.”

  “He bought up quite a bit of beachfront property,” Tommy said. “I think he and some others were hoping to put that new hotel and entertainment complex down here, but they couldn’t get the zoning changed.”

  “Hotel complex?”

  “Yeah, they’re building farther north instead. This area is zoned for residential use. They set the zone up around me ’cause I was already here.”

  “What happens to your mortgage now?”

  “Oh, I suppose some bank will buy it. Anybody’s better than Cage and Ventura.”

  “Cage and Ventura? I’m not familiar with that company,” she admitted. “It wasn’t Cage Real Estate that held the mortgage?”

  “No. Cage and Ventura was the company I made the payments to. The sooner someone else buys my note the better.”

  “Why?”

  “They’re not so likely to foreclose and sell the property out from under me. Of course, I don’t know about Ventura, but your husband was a real jerk.”

  “I know.” She laughed. “So, nothing happened on Saturday.”

  “No. But I wasn’t here all night.”

  “Ask about the neighborhood,” Gabriel urged.

  “What about outside the bar? On the beach or in the neighborhood, maybe?”

  Tommy Mott thought for a moment. “No, nothing that I’ve heard of. Like I say, I did get out of here early.”

  “You’re here every night? And then you work days here? Boy, you must love this place.”

  “Not really,” the man said, smiling. “When you .own it, you pay attention to it. Most of my help would just as soon sell everything out the back door as across the bar.”

  “What kind of neighborhood is this?”

  “Rich and old, mostly. You’ve got to have bucks to get beachfront property.”

  “That’s for sure. Well, thanks for your time, Tommy.”

  “Time spent talking to a pretty lady is never wasted,” he said. “Sorry I couldn’t help more.”

  “I didn’t really expect that you could,” she said. “Say, why is the place called Bernie’s if a guy named Tommy owns it?”

  “Bernie was four owners ago,” the man said. “Nobody wants to pay for a new sign. It was called The Pirate’s Lair before that.”

  “Really?” That seemed like an odd coincidence. “Why did they call it that?”

  “Some sort of local legend, I think. There was supposed to have been a wreck out there someplace.”

  “I hadn’t heard that,” she said, her heart suddenly beating hollowly within her chest. “Do they know where?”

  “No. It’s probably not true anyway.”

  “You should give that man’s motives a closer look, lass,” Gabriel said in the parking lot a few minutes later

  “Tommy Mott? Why?”

  “Your husband was his landlord and it was known that he had designs to sell the property. That’s motive enough for any merchant.”

  “Except that Darrell was killed in my backyard.”

  “We can’t rule out the possibility that Tommy Mott followed him there. And now that you’re not locked up for the crime, he may have stopped by to put an end to police speculation.”

  “Him?” She glanced back at the bar, thinking of the affable bartender. She supposed anyone could be a suspect, though she couldn’t picture Tommy as a murderer. “I don’t know, Gabriel. After all, they weren’t going to build that entertainment center here.”

  “So, your late husband may have been eager to dispose of the holding. You said yourself that he wasn’t a banker. His business was in the selling of property, not owning.”

  “That’s exactly what Darrell would have done,” she admitted. “And he probably would have told Tommy that he was going to do it, too.”

  “Just keep an eye out for the innkeeper,” Gabriel recommended. “Time will tell, lass.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of. And I wonder about this Cage and Ventura business, as well. Oh, Gabriel, there’s too much to think about.”

  “Just think about one thing at a time and keep a watchful eye, lass.”

  “I’ll try. Well, what do we do now?”

  “We take a stroll along the beach, I think,” Gabriel said. “We’re very close to the spot where I went over the side, you know. I think we would best be served by heading to where you went swimming on Saturday.”

  “What do you think about what Tommy said about the wreck? It could be your ship he talked about. Do you suppose anyone has looked for it?”

  “Nobody as long as I’ve been here,” he said. “And I’ve been here all the time. No, lass, the treasure is still where it landed, so we’ll just go on a ways to measure the lay of the land. Then we should get a rowboat and do a bit of diving.”

  “I’m not much of a diver,” Tess said. “How deep is it?”

  “Not more than thirty feet, I should say. It’s buried under sand. I can take you straight to it,” he said. “All we need is your hands to take hold and bring it up. You can do that much diving, can’t you?”

  “I’ve always wanted to be rich,” Tess said. She laughed, rather liking the notion of being wealthy. “I guess I can stand to do a little work for it.”

  WALTER CHAMBERS CALLED Tess’s work number as soon as he got back to his office but was told that she no longer worked there. He smiled a tight, rueful smile. He had found out that Darrell Cage had secured the land on which Crowe Tool had recently expanded. Reports were that Cage might even have owned a piece of the company, too—hence Tess’s being hired there with no work experience.

  He dialed her home number next, nervously tapping his fingers on the desktop while he listened to the telephone ring twice, only to be answered by a machine.

  “Tess, this is Walter Chambers,” he said after the beep. “I’ve got new information. Your husband was into a lot of shady deals, and any one of them might have gotten him killed. You should take a look at any papers you might have access to and see what you can come up with. Also, I think I have something else. Maybe it’s nothing. I don’t know. But you’d better be very careful—”

  The answering machine cut him off with a second beep. He began dialing the number again, nervously licking his lips as he did. But before Tess’s message had ended, his office door opened and he quickly hung up the phone.

  “Come in,” he said. At that moment, he sincerely wished that he owned a handgun.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “This is where I stopped walking on Saturday night.”

  Tess stood beside the rocks again, this time in the hot, bright sun of midday. The gulf lay peaceful and calm, hardly a ripple disturbing its surface, and the air was heavy and humid. Tess had unbuttoned her blouse as they walked, tying it at her midriff over her swimsuit, attempting to let the air cool her as much as possible.

  Only a handful of other people lingered on the pebbly sand today, but then this wasn’t a tourist beach. Near Bernie’s bar, families on vacation were searching for shells or wading in the blue gulf waters, but the line of houses overlooking this stretch of shore gave the clear impression of private property.

  “Which one is the banker’s house?” Gabriel asked.

  “That
one.” Tess pointed to a two-story structure with wood-shingled siding and large windows overlooking the gulf. “I’m pretty sure that’s the place he came out of.”

  “We’ll have a look, then.”

  “Why?”

  “He’s as much a suspect in this matter as anybody.”

  “But, Gabriel, we can’t just wander up there.”

  “Of course we can. He’s a friend of yours, isn’t he? There’s surely no harm in calling on a friend.” He kissed her neck from behind.

  Tess flushed, then glanced around, wishing Gabriel was a flesh-and-blood presence, visible to all. “But he’s not home now.” Tess laughed, trying to push away the unseen kisses that now rained against her jaw. “Not during business hours. Gabriel, don’t.”

  “So, if you get caught, you say you were mistaken, don’t you? After all, you’re newly unemployed and in search of a shoulder to cry on—or some such blather as that.” He kissed her again, and one hand slipped across her stomach, visibly moving the fabric of her blouse while remaining unseen. “When would the best time to search a man’s home be anyway?” he asked. “Not when he’s at home, but when he’s busy swindling people elsewhere.”

  “Okay, I get the point. Come on But stop this kissing. People will see me and think I’m crazy.”

  “You’re not, though. Only possessed by a spirit.” Tess walked up the gentle slope toward the house, the sand invading her shoes as it became finer and looser away from the water. A moment later, they were standing on a concrete patio. Above them, a balcony extended from the second floor.

  “The least we can do is go around to the front, so we can pretend to be visiting.” Tess headed for the side of the house. “We’ll look suspicious if we’re seen sneaking up from the beach like this.”

  “But you’re simply taking a stroll along the water, aren’t you?” Gabriel followed her to the front door. “It’s not as though you have no explanation.”

  “I want a better one, that’s all,” she said She stopped to read the number beside the front door. “Three Seventy-Nine Sandhook Road,” Tess mused. “He really lucked into a nice place. These homes don’t come up for sale very often.”