Heather Graham_Bone Island Trilogy_02

by Ghost Night

  “We’re taking a leap of faith to believe in Carlos Roca,” Liam noted.

  Sean nodded. “Yes and no,” he said softly. “Vanessa has…something. Like Katie. The thing I always wanted to deny. Until Bartholomew. Now I know that things do exist that we can’t see. She has instincts and…something. I trust that something.”

  “Let’s hope you’re right,” Liam said.

  Everyone wanted to dive that day. Sean, however, didn’t want to leave the encampment alone, nor did he want to leave Ted and Jaden alone to keep guard. In the end, it was agreed both boats would go out that day with Jamie O’Hara remaining topside on his Claddagh and David and Katie remaining topside on the Conch Fritter.

  They followed one another going down, but the World War II vessel was a huge hulk, and they split to follow it around in different directions. Vanessa led, bringing her partners around to the gash in the giant hull that had probably caused its sinking. They began to explore the area, Sean turning the camera on the wreck and then the different divers.

  Vanessa realized that they were in an equipment room, and she began to study the dials and levers on one side of the wall. She followed them to the sandy bottom, where in some places they were on the ocean floor and in others she heard the metallic clink of the vessel’s flooring. She kept searching the flooring, aware that her fellow divers were near.

  She found an uneven patch in the sand and started carefully moving the sand around it. She grew excited as she realized that she had come across something. There was a piece of something that glittered. She moved more sand and realized that one object was laid atop another. She picked up the first and was surprised to see that it was a knife. It wasn’t old; the hilt was wearing and the blade was dull and crusted, but it was a modern diving knife. She slipped it into her belt and looked at the object beneath it. It was long and wedged tightly between the rip in the hull’s floor and the sand.

  She looked for the others and saw that Zoe was at a hatch, struggling with the door. She swam toward her just as the door gave.

  Vanessa ducked the massive sheet of steel that seemed to have some kind of spring; Barry, shooting ahead of her, did not.

  She heard the thud as he crashed, headfirst, into the steel.

  He shot back, his regulator falling from his mouth. She realized that he was unconscious and hurried toward him, catching his drifting weight and gripping her backup regulator to force it immediately into his mouth. Zoe shot for her, trying to help, but she was panicking and in the way. Sean let the camera fall, suspended, to his side, shooting toward them. He signaled that they needed to surface, which, of course, they knew.

  Decompression time had to be taken, but between them, they kept the air going into Barry’s lungs and bubbles coming out into the water. When they surfaced, Zoe began to shout, drawing David’s attention. He was quickly at the dive platform with Katie, and between them they got Barry’s body on deck, stripped of dive gear and wrapped in a towel.

  Sean stood over him and looked the ten feet over to the Claddagh. The other divers were up, and Liam shouted over to Sean. “What happened?”

  “Barry took a beating from a spring-loaded hatch,” Sean cried.

  “It was my fault. I should have known,” Zoe moaned. She was flustered, fluttering over Barry, trying to touch him, whispering that she was sorry.

  “He’s got to get to medical care,” Sean said. “He might have had some oxygen deprivation, though Vanessa got to him quickly.”

  “I’ll tie up and take Barry on board the Claddagh. She’s got a bit of speed on your Sunray, Sean. I’ll radio ahead and they’ll be ready for him in Bimini,” Jamie called to him.

  “All right,” Sean conceded.

  “I can’t believe I did this,” Zoe said.

  “Zoe, you didn’t do it—the door sprang right when Barry was heading for it,” Vanessa said. She glanced at Sean and realized that he thought that Zoe’s ministrations might prove to be too much for the poor man. “Barry will be fine. Jamie’s boat is fast. We’ve got him breathing, and he has a weak but steady pulse going.”

  “Grab the bumpers,” Jamie called to his crew aboard the Claddagh.

  Vanessa and Jay ran to do the same for the Conch Fritter. A few minutes later, Barry was aboard the Claddagh, and it was agreed that David and Katie would go with him while the rest of the crew came aboard the Conch Fritter to head back to the island.

  Vanessa watched the Claddagh sail away, and she waved to Katie and David.

  She felt a chill.

  They would be all right. They had to be all right. They were close to Bimini, it was still daylight and there were three of them aboard with Barry.

  She still felt an ominous sense of dread that something horrible would happen before she saw them again. The sea wind suddenly seemed chill, and when she turned away, she felt the strange sting of tears in her eyes.

  16

  “Barry could die,” Zoe said, watching as the Claddagh disappeared into the horizon.

  “He’s not going to die,” Vanessa assured her, giving her shoulders a hug. “It’s going to be fine.”

  Zoe looked at her and tried to smile. “And I didn’t find a thing,” Zoe said.

  Vanessa tried to brighten. “I did.”

  They all looked at her.

  “Well, of course you did,” Jay said. “What?”

  She looked around at the faces. Sean was just waiting, Liam at his side. Bill, Jake, Jay and Zoe were wide-eyed.

  “I don’t know,” she said.

  That wasn’t true. She knew that she had found a modern dive knife. Maybe it wasn’t indicative of anything—perhaps a diver had lost it. But for some reason, she decided not to tell them all about the knife—just what was beneath it.

  “The floor was uneven, and it was all crusted…I think it might have been what remained of a sword or a cutlass. I didn’t have time to try to figure it out—Barry was hit. But we can find out tomorrow. I know exactly where it is,” Vanessa said. She smiled. She was proud of this find. She hadn’t seen a ghostly figurehead in the water. She had found it on her own.

  She saw that Bartholomew was standing just behind Liam and Sean; he watched her solemnly.

  “It might have been German, or fairly modern,” she said. “It was impossible to tell.”

  “We should go back down right now,” Jay said.

  “No. Not today,” Sean said. “Today, we had a member of our crew injured. We’ll head back and let the others know what happened, and wait to hear about Barry’s condition.”

  “Oh my God, you are worried he could die!” Zoe said.

  “No. He just needs care. But this is it for the day,” Sean said. He headed to the helm. Vanessa came and curled up on the companion seat, hugging a throw around her shoulders—she hadn’t been able to shake the chill that had seized her as she had waved goodbye to Katie.

  She was anxious to hear that the Claddagh had arrived safely in Bimini.

  Liam was seated aft.

  Watching, she thought.

  Watching Zoe, Bill and Jake.

  They didn’t have far to come in to the island, but she decided that the demand for a freshwater shower on the one boat might be high that night, and she slipped off the seat, telling Sean that she was going to take a quick shower. It was good, though quick. Zoe followed her lead while the guys washed off on the deck, using the equipment hose.

  She felt better once she was dressed in jeans and a sweater. And in another few minutes, she heard Sean calling for the ties and the bumpers. They had returned to Haunt Island.

  A fire had been built and the barbecue had been set to blaze and dinner put on in their absence. Jaden, busy flipping thin flank steaks, was horrified when she heard about Barry, and Ted had to take the barbecue fork from her hand to save a piece of meat.

  “It was an accident,” Jay said, “nothing but an accident.” He set a hand gently on Zoe’s shoulders.

  “And he’s going to be all right,” Vanessa added.

 
“They’ll call soon,” Sean said.

  Vanessa felt she had to escape for a few moments at least. She murmured something about needing to put a few things away in her tent. She glanced at Sean, hoping that he would follow her.

  She started entering the tent. Bartholomew had preceded her entry and was seated on the ground, Indian-style, hands folded prayer-fashion and tapping his lower jaw. He started to rise when he saw her, but she shook her head and sank down beside him.

  “I’ve been thinking all day,” he said.

  “And?”

  “And your theory is right. It has to be. I told you—I knew them, Mad Miller and Kitty…and they weren’t evil or cruel. Mad Miller must have made a financial agreement with Dona Isabella. She traveled a lot—they could have met at several ports. He was…he was soft. Once he had stopped her ship, she took control. She insisted it be sunk, and she murdered Kitty. It all makes sense now.”

  Vanessa shook her head. “It still doesn’t make sense. I kept seeing Dona Isabella’s face on a figurehead—she was the one leading me around.”

  The tent flap opened and they started, but it was Sean, and evidently he had heard them.

  Sean shook his head. “Whatever type of spirit she is, she’s been playing with you. She’s been leading you. She wanted you to find the pendant, because that lent credence to the tale. That would bring everyone aboard to follow this whole route again. And—just in case it didn’t—she then had you find the body. She probably didn’t realize that a forensic anthropologist would immediately realize that it was the wrong body.”

  “But the body disappeared,” Vanessa said.

  “She led you—and she’s leading someone else,” Sean said. Bartholomew nodded.

  “Oh!” Vanessa said, and dug into her bag. “I did pick up something today, but no one led me to it. It was in the gap in the ship, on top of the object I was describing.” She produced the knife and showed it to Sean. He studied it, rolling it over in his hand and chipping at the crust on it.

  “T-B-E,” Sean read. “Tom Essling,” he said.

  “I’m sorry?” Vanessa asked.

  “Tom Essling—he was captain of a boat that disappeared in that area just last year. If we further our search, I have a feeling we’ll find his boat, the Delphi, too,” he said grimly.

  “So…someone has been pirating other vessels near here. Someone maybe using Haunt Island as their base, as if it’s their…their home fort,” Vanessa said.

  “I don’t know. It’s all supposition,” Sean said.

  “She’s right. I know she’s right,” Bartholomew said. “But I’m watching…I’m always watching, and I can’t figure it out yet.”

  “Well, it has been figured out to this,” Sean said. “Someone here knows much more than he or she is saying. Someone is—” He broke off, looking at Vanessa. “A killer, I believe,” he said softly.

  From outside the tent, they heard Jaden call out loudly. “Dinner, folks, dinner! Come and get it now!”

  “Let’s go on out,” Sean told Vanessa. “We’ll keep up all appearances.”

  As they walked over to the barbecue area, Vanessa asked Sean, “David hasn’t called yet. Why hasn’t David called?”

  “He will,” he assured her.

  Unless what Barry had done had been an act. Barry was a big man, muscular, powerful. The kind who could wield a knife and a bone saw, if needed. What if he had been pretending the entire event, and he had known that they would save him, bring him to the surface.

  And rush him to a hospital.

  She began to fear that Barry would suddenly rise, taking David and Jamie by surprise. He would attack from the rear, when they weren’t expecting it. He would toss them overboard as he had done with Carlos, and then he would come for Katie….

  She clenched her fists, knowing that she was letting her imagination run away from her.

  But she was scared.

  And she wanted David to call, or Katie, or anyone.

  Jaden and Ted tried to be cheerful and upbeat as they doled out dinner. Marty, however, appeared wary and watchful.

  Lew Sanderson sat on the beach alone, watching the others as they ate.

  Liam stayed on one side of the group and Sean on the other.

  When Sean’s cell phone started ringing, they all jumped. He answered it quickly, and then breathed a sigh of relief as he looked at the others.

  “They are in Bimini, and the doctors believe that Barry will pull through,” he told them.

  It seemed that everyone let out a sigh. And then they began to chat with relief, and in a few minutes, they were even joking with one another.

  David, Jamie and Katie wouldn’t return until the next morning, which meant that Sean had lost three of the people he trusted most for the night.

  Lew—he thought he trusted, but he didn’t know.

  Ted and Jaden he trusted, but they were really scholars, not fighters, though Ted did know how to use a speargun.

  Carlos was an unknown element in the whole game.

  Still, he had himself and Liam and Marty. And they were guarding a tiny blonde woman and two twenty-somethings who didn’t appear to be musclemen.

  Maybe there was something he still wasn’t seeing. One of the group had been involved, but they’d had outside help.

  Everyone seemed tired that night. He told Liam about the knife they had found, and they both knew that they’d be searching for the Delphi the next day.

  “Tonight?” Liam asked.

  “We all stay on guard. Marty, Ted, you and I. And Lew. But I’m uneasy now, and we’ll actually be watching Lew, as well. I’m thinking that when David and Katie and my uncle Jamie return, it may be time to put an end to this. I think a killer is in reach, but I don’t want to risk anyone else’s life. We need a larger crew—a totally trustworthy crew. Anyway, we’ll each take a few hours, and stand guard in threes through the night,” Sean said.

  “You want some time first?” Liam asked.

  “Sure. Thanks. I’d like that,” Sean admitted.

  Vanessa was already in their little tent. She had seemed chilled during the day, and was wearing her flannel nightdress again. He smiled at her, coming in to zip the flap on the tent.

  He came to her, taking her by the shoulders, and she looked up at him expectantly.

  “These are really tight quarters,” he whispered. “And we are really, really close to other tents, but…”

  He loved her smile, loved her eyes. “We’re very good at whispered conversations,” she said.

  “There are many ways to communicate, you know.”

  Her arms wrapped around him. She drew him down with her to the thin mattresses on the canvas floor of the tent and he reflected that it was really one of the finest beds he’d ever seen. Any bed was fine, if Vanessa was there. He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her slowly, and she slid her fingers beneath his shirt, teasing the flesh of his abdomen, then drawing the shirt up and over his head. They came together again, and she felt his blood begin to burn as her fingers dipped into the waistband of his jeans. She went still as she felt his gun.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

  “I’m not. I’m damned glad you have it. And I’m definitely glad it was a gun. It seemed a very strange place to have such a body part,” she teased.

  “I’ll show you body parts,” he whispered.

  “Promises, promises…”

  They quickly grew breathless and winced here and there, pressing their fingers to each other’s lips, smiling, laughing, making love just a bit awkwardly and with just a bit of difficulty and yet finding that the smiles, the whispered warnings and the laughter itself made the moment sweeter and more frantic, and even in hushed gasps the moment of climax incredible and shattering. Then they lay together, damp and breathing deeply, hearts thundering, interlocked, and strangely silent.

  “You’re going out, aren’t you?” Vanessa whispered.

  He nodded. “I just…I…I needed this time,” he said. He’d never
realized that he didn’t know how to speak to a woman. Not true, speech had been easy. But he had never intended to become involved, never realized that he could feel that he needed to wake up with someone every morning. He let out a breath and turned to her and just let the words come. “I think I love you,” he said.

  She smiled. “I think I love you, too.”

  “I think…I think that when this is over you shouldn’t leave,” he said. “I think that we should both see where this thinking is going. I think the thinking could become certainty.”

  She brushed her lips against his, and her eyes, so dark and beautiful a blue in the shadows, met his. “I think that I’ll be here,” she said softly.

  He didn’t want to leave her; he had to. He knew that he was right, that even if the three of them guarding the place appeared to be overkill, it was necessary.

  He rose, reaching for his clothes and dressing quickly in the cramped quarters. Vanessa slipped back into the flannel gown. “I’ll come with you.”

  “No.”

  “But—”

  “Get some sleep. Tomorrow will be a long day, and…well, you are distracting,” he told her.

  “All right,” she said softly.

  He unzipped the flap on the tent and slipped away.

  Despite everything that had happened during the day—or perhaps because of it—Vanessa found herself falling into a deep sleep almost immediately after Sean left her.

  For a while, even in sleep, she knew the comfort of the sweet rest.

  Then she felt as if she was being touched.

  She opened her eyes. It was dark in the tent, though the many torches set into the sand kept the area light enough. Strange patterns and shadows were dispersed between faint lights.

  She must have still been sleeping. She could see a face. It wasn’t the face that had been on the figurehead, not that of Dona Isabella.

  It was the face of the blonde woman, not as pretty, just a little worn. Kitty. Kitty Cutlass.

  And her eyes were tinged with worry now.

  She was dreaming again, of course.

  “Come, come…come on. You must leave, please, hurry!” the woman warned her.