Heather Graham_Bone Island Trilogy_02

by Ghost Night

  The romance was blooming.

  Bartholomew seemed torn. At the last minute, however, he came aboard the boat.

  They set out, running slowly due southwest of the island. Sean grew excited at a blip on the screen, but a study of the sea charts showed that it was a World War II ship that had gone down in 1943; at war’s end, it was already becoming part of a growing reef.

  “Wait,” Sean said. “Uncle Jamie, let’s bring her around. If there is something here, that could be a reason that it has never been found!”

  “Sean, good call—worth an exploration, at least,” David said. “That happened with the old British ship Renegade in the Bay of Bengal. She had twisted beneath a trawler that went down several hundred years later.”

  Barry was filming the discussion. “Wow, yeah, we might have found something!”

  His excitement was such that he forgot that he was filming.

  “Ahem, camera, my friend!” Jay reminded him.

  “Let’s break out the diving gear and the casements for the cameras,” Sean said. “David, obviously, you and Katie. Jamie—”

  “I’ll be aboard, keeping watch on the line and my boat!” Jamie said firmly.

  “You want me on board or in the water?” Jay asked.

  Sean seemed to hesitate for just a second.

  He doesn’t trust Jay! Vanessa thought.

  “What about me?” Barry asked.

  “Barry, you’re up here, camera ready, with Jamie,” Sean said.

  Barry frowned. “I—”

  “You’re the soundman, Barry, and you’re good with a camera, too. Be ready when we come up,” Sean said.

  “Where do you want me?” Bill asked.

  “Make it a threesome with Vanessa and me,” Sean said. “And, Jake—you tag on with Katie and David.”

  He had done it again, Vanessa realized—divided the old group. Jamie would watch Barry. Marty was onshore, along with Ted and Jaden, keeping an eye on Lew and Zoe. Liam—David’s cousin and Sean’s close friend—would be watching Jay. David would have his eye on Jake.

  Barry seemed unhappy but resigned. He brightened while the others got into their gear and asked Jamie if he had any fishing equipment.

  Jamie scowled. “You’ll be catching the divers!”

  “No!” Barry protested. “I’ll be catching fresh fish for dinner!”

  Jamie shook his head but assured Barry he had fishing equipment, but that Barry needed to remember that he was in charge of filming when the divers surfaced.

  As Vanessa slipped her mask and regulator on and held the mask in place in order to slip over the hull backward, she noticed Bartholomew. He was standing aft, looking back at the island.

  As they descended, the water was clear and beautiful until they reached thirty-three feet and paused to pressurize. Another twenty feet down, and while visibility was still good, the sunlight didn’t penetrate as well.

  Vanessa saw the hull of the old World War II vessel and followed Sean around the portside, aware that Bill was keeping pace with her. Sean had the camera, and Vanessa was glad.

  It was the camera lens that seemed to play tricks on her.

  Sean motioned Bill, instructing him down to the sand where something peculiar seemed to be stuck just beneath the vessel.

  It was while they were occupied that Vanessa saw the figurehead.

  It was just feet in front of the men. She wouldn’t be leaving her partners to follow it, to see if it was real.

  To see if it led her to an old treasure again, a pendant.

  Or a dead body.

  She moved toward it in the water and realized that it was actually within a torn segment of the World War II ship’s hull. No. She wasn’t going to follow—not without her fellow divers knowing that she was entering the wreck.

  She turned, giving a massive kick with her flippers, only to realize that she was already inside the ship. She moved toward the hole through which she had entered, only to discover that the ship seemed to have shifted; the entryway—the exit!—was no more.

  And there was no figurehead to be seen.

  For a split second, she nearly panicked.

  It had all scrambled her mind; she was going ever-so-slightly crazy—and now it was going to trap her and kill her.

  She braced herself, checked her air gauge and her compass, and knew that her partners weren’t far away. She moved in the opposite direction from the false lure of the figurehead with the face of Dona Isabella that didn’t really exist.

  The tear in the giant craft was just ahead of her. As she reached it, she saw that the ship had probably been sunk by a torpedo—there was a giant hole extending beneath its watery graveyard in the sand. And beneath it…

  There was something.

  It looked like a broken shaft of wood. There were clumps and lumps all over it, encrusted in barnacles and sea growth. She reached for it with gloved hands and struggled to pull it free. It gave, but it was heavy.

  She banged against the hull of the ship with her dive knife. A second later, Sean came through water toward her, his eyes showing concern through his mask.

  She’d never let him know that she had nearly panicked, and thought herself trapped!

  She smiled around her regulator and gave him an okay signal. He saw what she had.

  He lifted the camera as Bill moved himself through the water to help her grasp the heavy object. He signed to her, and they carried it between them with Sean following. They made their way to the anchor line and moved up to thirty-three feet, waited and moved up again, following the line.

  The others had seen them. They begin to ascend, as well.

  Jamie was at the dive platform, ready to help them. Vanessa heard Barry say a quick “Oh, shit!” And then he had a camera rolling. Bill climbed out first and shed his tank and BCV in order to help Jamie shift the piece from the dive platform to the boat. Katie followed, throwing her flippers on board and hauling herself up. Sean was quickly behind her, and she reached for the camera. Soon, they were aboard, and the piece she had found was lying on the stern section of the deck with the group gathered around to stare at it.

  “It’s a piece of a mast,” Jamie said.

  “And the clumps?” Barry asked.

  Jamie stared at Barry, grinning, and then looked at Sean. “Ted and Jaden will have some work to do tonight. Look at the circular patterns. You’ve found a stash of coins, my friends. Gold and silver, I’d wager. And if I’m right, and if our experts can clean them and give us some dates, I think we’ll find that you’re right, Sean. We’ve come upon a debris field of the pirate ship, if not the pirate ship itself.”

  Sean turned to Vanessa and pulled her close, planting a huge kiss on her lips.

  “You’re amazing!” he told her.

  She smiled uneasily.

  She had followed the figurehead again.

  But the figurehead had nearly trapped her that day. Had it been leading her to treasure?

  Or trying to lure her to her death?

  15

  “Oh my God!” Jaden cried, delighted with the discovery. “Ted, look…it’s definitely a cache of coins. I’d say it is a piece of the mast. Maybe the new wreck crushed the old wreck. I think that Sean was right, and that it was a long debris field…and still, what’s left of the pirate hull might be there…it’s possible. It’s certainly not impossible!”

  “This is really fabulous,” Ted said. “The last time I saw something like this it was…wow, it was a display from the Atocha.” He turned to Jaden. “We can get started. We brought supplies. I can’t wait to see the dates on the coins and find out what was on that ship. I can’t wait to see the coins. I think there are definitely some cobs attached there—those are bits taken off the gold bars. They could have been stolen from anyone, French, English, Spanish or Americans!” he said excitedly.

  They were back on the beach and the heavy piece of mast with its encrusted treasure lay in the center of a tarp while they gathered around it and stared.

 
“It’s amazing,” Zoe breathed, looking at Vanessa. “And you found this, too?”

  “More or less. I was diving with Sean and Bill,” Vanessa said.

  “You really missed your calling,” Zoe said.

  “Hey, Bahamian or International waters?” Jay asked, looking at Lew.

  Lew smiled broadly. “Bahamian! Yeah!”

  “Ah, there goes the treasure,” Jay said sadly.

  Vanessa stepped back, not really thrilled with the fact that she had once again discovered a find in the water. She couldn’t help but think about Lew’s story—and the things Bartholomew had said.

  But…

  Say there was a ghost that somehow haunted her in the water. First off, why would Dona Isabella, so cruelly taken and murdered, want to cause evil to anyone?

  And second, ghosts didn’t have the power to do what had been done.

  She realized that she had backed out of the group, and she was sorry that Sean was so concerned with safety that they couldn’t possibly have a minute alone. Not alone, maybe. But…with just Katie and David.

  She started as she stood in the back of the group—something had hit her on the back. She spun around and looked down. A tiny pinecone lay there in the sand. She frowned, and then looked up.

  Carlos Roca.

  She stared at him. He was real. Alive—and on the island. She couldn’t begin to fathom how he had followed them so easily.

  Unless, of course, he was good at that kind of thing.

  She looked at him, at the misery in his eyes, at the pleading within them. She saw that his face had grown gaunt; he looked like a man haunted by a million demons.

  He was beckoning to her. He drew a finger to his lips.

  She’d be crazy to walk to him in the brush. Alone.

  She winced. She wondered if there was such a thing as instinct, and if her belief in the man was actually crazy. After all, he was there.

  He hadn’t been killed.

  She turned, thinking she could grab Katie or someone.

  They were all still discussing the coins. Jaden was explaining how many people used something like an electrode to clean such pieces, but they had always had good luck with certain chemical washes and delicate handwork.

  Everyone was staring at the treasure thoughtfully or looking at Jaden.

  She hesitated and then took another step back, and another. And when no one noticed her moving at that point, she turned and headed into the brush and the pines.

  She had unbuckled her dive knife earlier and shoved it into the pocket of her jeans, and she had her jeans on now….

  Right. Like a dive knife could save her against the maniac who had decapitated and dismembered two people!

  She entered a tree-shaded trail, and felt as if a mist and darkness gathered around her. It did not; it was just that the sun wasn’t penetrating through the pines.

  “Carlos?” she said softly.

  He stepped out in front of her.

  “Jesus Cristo!” he said, and crossed himself. “I have been waiting for you. I have tried so hard to reach you. I need for you to understand.”

  There had been so much commotion over Vanessa’s discovery that they had finally broken to go about different tasks when Sean realized that he didn’t see Vanessa anywhere in the group. He saw Katie laying towels over one of the support ropes for her tent to dry, and he hurried over to her. “Katie! Where’s Vanessa?”

  “What? Well, she was there with the rest of us, listening to Jaden, and then…”

  Her voice trailed away and she stared at him with fear in her eyes.

  Sean was afraid that she was going to scream or alert the others. He was terrified that she had been dragged into the pine woods and brush, and he quickly looked around the encampment, searching for members of the original film team.

  Zoe was with Bill, preparing the barbecue. Barry was showing Jay the fish he had caught that afternoon while they’d been diving—two snappers and a medium-size grouper.

  David came over as he searched the group.

  “What’s wrong?” David asked.

  “Vanessa,” Sean said.

  “I’ll help you search.”

  “No—I’ll find her. Make sure that everyone else stays around here, David.”

  “Right. If you’re not back in ten minutes, though, I’ll send Liam and Jamie after you.”

  Sean nodded and hurried back toward the pines. There was a trail—small and overgrown, but it had been traveled recently.

  He ran down the trail, afraid to call her name and afraid not to, his heart thundering. He reminded himself that he was certain that the murders had not been committed by one person alone, that whoever had done it had to have had some assistance.

  And they were all back at the beach. All of them except for Vanessa. Lew Sanderson had been there as well, rinsing dive gear with Jamie on the Claddagh. Carlos Roca.

  He was alive. He had been in Key West. He had followed them to Miami.

  And now he was here. On the island.

  And he had Vanessa.

  He drew out the .38 Special he had stuffed under his jacket and kept moving as quietly as he could along the trail. Visions of what might have happened plagued the back of his mind.

  Vanessa. Down on the sand, beautiful blond hair trailing out over it.

  Eyes open with horror…

  He was about to scream out her name, scream with a desperation that would be heard throughout the island.

  He bit back the cry and hurried onward, then paused, listening.

  He heard conversation. Hushed. Two people. Whispering. To his right.

  He broke through the trees and brush then and burst upon the two of them—Vanessa, perfectly fine, standing in the clearing with her arm on Carlos Roca’s shoulder, as if she had been urging him to do something.

  He aimed the .38 Special at Carlos Roca’s head and said flatly, “I spent time at target practice before the trip. At this distance, I can guarantee a clean shot between your eyes. Step away from Vanessa. Now.”

  Roca instantly moved to do so.

  And Vanessa stepped in front of him, lifting a pleading hand to Sean.

  “No, no, please, Sean! Carlos is innocent. He’s been desperate all this time. He’s been following us—at great risk to himself—determined to keep anything horrible from happening again.”

  Sean grated down on his teeth, tension bracing his muscles. “Vanessa, get away from him.”

  “Sean! You have to listen.”

  “Fine. Carlos, we’ll walk back to the encampment. And you can talk to everyone there.”

  Carlos looked at Vanessa.

  “No, Sean, please, no!” Vanessa begged.

  He eased the gun down, still ready to lift it again if need be. He didn’t want to keep it aimed at Vanessa.

  “Please! Sean!” Vanessa pleaded again, wincing. “Sean—we can’t let anyone know that Carlos is here. He’s watching…watching after us. Sean, listen to him.”

  “It’s one of them,” Carlos said quietly and with dignity. “It’s one of them. We were barely out at sea when I was attacked at the helm. I never saw who was there. I was struck so hard I went down. I was tossed overboard, and somehow, by the grace of God, the cold woke me up. I was dazed, my head was bleeding. I don’t remember much else. I swam. I found a piece of driftwood and clung to it. I came to on one of the small islands, tended by a fisherman’s wife. Then, I found out that I was wanted for murder. I have a Bahamian friend who got me a false ID claiming that I’m a fisherman from the Dominican Republic. I have been trying to find out what did happen ever since, lying low…and studying disappearances in the air and acts of piracy.”

  “Why should we believe you?” Sean asked, not moving, his voice cold and steely. “Why should I believe that this isn’t a game you’re playing, that you don’t have an accomplice among the crew, and that if I keep the secret that you’re here, you won’t be waiting for the right time to kill again?”

  “You can ask Lew,” Carlos s
aid quietly. “I told you, I came to on a Bahamian island. The people who found me were decent people. They contacted him and got him to come to me. He was there to see the fifty stitches in my head. He knows that I’m telling the truth. The night I left with Georgia, one of them either hid on the boat or found a way onto the boat. I was attacked from behind. God help me, the person just wanted Georgia. I sleep at night, still hearing her screaming!”

  Sean still stared at Carlos. He saw that Vanessa believed in the man, believed with every fiber of her being.

  She had from the start.

  If he was innocent, he was a valuable ally on the island. He was the unknown that they could have in their favor.

  And if he wasn’t…

  He was aware that Bartholomew was at his side.

  “I believe he’s telling the truth. I followed Vanessa into the woods. There were tears in his eyes. He pleaded. No man is that good an actor,” Bartholomew said.

  “Someone was on the boat. When you left, who did you see on the dock?” Sean asked.

  “Vanessa and Jay. I saw them both,” Carlos said.

  “That wouldn’t mean that either of them was innocent—they might have been an accomplice to whomever slipped aboard. Or are you certain that they slipped aboard before you left? Could someone have come broadside and slipped on?”

  Carlos took a deep breath. “It was night. I was moving slowly.”

  “You have to make a decision,” Bartholomew said. “Someone will be coming after you within a few minutes now.”

  Vanessa came hurrying toward him. She caught his hand and stared into his eyes. “He’s telling the truth. I know that he’s telling the truth.”

  “How?” he grated.

  “I know. I know!” she said, slamming a fist against her chest. “Sometimes…you know.”

  Sean stared at Carlos over Vanessa’s head. “If you’re not telling the truth, you’re a dead man.”

  “I am telling the truth. And I am watching. And I am waiting, unknown now, to find out who did this. Because they are here, and they will strike again,” Carlos said.

  Sean winced and turned, sliding the safety on and the gun beneath his jacket and waistband, and taking Vanessa’s hand. When they neared the beach, he slowed his pace and came out of the trees calmly, hoping no one but Katie and David had noticed their absence.