Ghost Night Page 14


“It’s not that—I just can’t imagine she really likes being quizzed constantly on what happened. It must have been pretty—horrifying.”


“Ah, but you two have something in common. You were almost killed by a madman,” Ted pointed out.


“But Sean’s madman was caught—and no one knows what happened to the other,” Jaden said. “Oh, it is a mystery! I’d love to know what happened on that island. Most people, of course, think it was that fellow who was supposed to take the actress home…. Rodriquez… Rod…”


“Roca. Carlos Roca,” Sean said.


“What does she think?” Ted asked.


“I’m dying to see what she looks like!” Jaden said.


“Just be nice when you meet her,” Sean said. He was defending her. Well, these were his friends, but they were professing some intrusive curiosity.


“And you might have found a relic. Like Ted said, wow, cool!” Jaden said happily.


“You know what some people think?” Ted asked, nodding sagely.


“What?”


“It’s the Bermuda Triangle,” Ted said, as if it were fact.


“Ted, ships get lost, planes go down, and many so-called victims of the so-called Bermuda Triangle have been found. Ships have sunk.”


“Aha! But throughout the years, they’ve found ghost ships out there, too. Ships with absolutely nothing wrong with them—but no one aboard. Hey, come on! You can order DVDs from the educational channels on the Bermuda Triangle,” Ted argued.


“The Bermuda Triangle did not decapitate two people and leave their heads and arms in the sand,” Sean said.


“Ugh. Scary!” Jaden said.


“Who says that there isn’t some form of really vicious creature making its home in the Triangle?” Ted asked. “They’re finding new species of fish constantly—things like the megamouth shark that was supposed to be extinct. They know that giant squid exist, but they know almost nothing about the habits of the creatures,” he said triumphantly.


“A giant squid didn’t do it either, Ted,” Sean said.


“Ah! But what happened to the boat? If there’s an explanation, go ahead—you find it!”


“A half-dozen law enforcement agencies, including the Coast Guard, couldn’t find it—I’m not so sure I’m going to,” Sean said.


“And what about the killer? If it’s a man, he’s out there somewhere. Or, like I said, he’s a victim of the Triangle. The Bermuda Triangle harbors some form of evil, and that evil got into the man, and then the man killed the actor and actress.”


“You sure it wasn’t aliens?” Sean asked dryly.


“Evil aliens living in the Triangle!” Ted agreed.


“I don’t think that Sean’s accepting any of your theories, my love,” Jaden said. “Sean, before he starts to argue UFOs, I suggest you get out of here. I’m going to get right on this piece—I’m really excited, it just might be something unique and historic. I’ll call you later, okay?”


“Be good to that young woman,” Ted advised. “Poor thing!”


“Yes, be kind,” Jaden admonished.


They were staring at him like a pair of proud parents on prom night. “I’ll do my best,” Sean said. He offered a grimace, waved and left the shop.


Key West was a small island. Pretty soon, everyone would be talking. And like Ted, most people liked to believe there was something about the Bermuda Triangle. Or aliens.


As he headed out, his phone rang. It was Liam Beckett. “I’ve checked out everything possible on your Miss Loren.”


“She’s not exactly my Miss Loren,” Sean protested.


“Well, she came to you,” Liam said. “Anyway, she appears to be everything that she claims on paper. She went to college, and she’s worked on prestigious projects since. Apparently, she invested about fifty thousand dollars into filming the movie and her partner, Jay Allen, did the same. But it doesn’t seem that she’s in any financial trouble—in fact she was recently very well paid for a project. I have a list of her work, some of which can be pulled up on YouTube.”


“I don’t know why I had you do extensive work on her background,” Sean said. “I didn’t think that you’d find anything.”


“She’s the real deal, so it seems.”


“Thanks.”


“So?”


“So?”


“So, if you’re doing this—I want in on it. I have to apply quickly for the time. Hey, you two are going to need me. Yeah, yeah, you’re tough guys, but I’m a cop, and three of us who completely trust each other are better than two. You need me,” Liam repeated.


“You were always invited, whatever the end choices. I just didn’t think that you could get off with everything that has gone on lately.”


“Oh, no. I’m there,” Liam said. “I’ll see you later.”


“You will?”


Liam laughed. “Katie-oke at O’Hara’s. David sips a beer and munches on conch fritters every night she works, as if he’s still afraid to let her out of his sight.”


Yes, I understand that feeling. So why am I even considering doing this?


Because he knew, too, what it was like not to know the truth, to mistrust your best friends and wonder as the years rolled by.


“You are going to be following the route of the film crew, aren’t you?” Liam asked.


He wanted to protest again that he wasn’t working alone, that the business venture was between him and David Beckett.


But David had already handed the decision over to him.


“Yes,” he said simply. “I’ll see you later tonight.”


He headed over to the Beckett house; that afternoon, they were interviewing for positions for the shoot.


One, he knew, was already taken. Two. Liam was in, as well. And if they were all going, well, then, he could guarantee that his sister would be with them, as well.


There would be two boats, as always planned.


It occurred to him that the film crew who met the tragic and traumatic fate had also started out from Key West with two boats. Wasn’t that the point? He mocked himself.


They were re-creating history. Seeking the truth.


And they were probably fools.


But, he determined, they’d be fools who came on the journey aware and alert—and well armed.


The Smallest Bar in Key West was very small. Vanessa had gotten to know several of the bartenders, and they were nice—even when she just wanted to order a soda or a bottle of water. She was certain that they knew who she was—her picture had been in the papers and on the news.


The afternoon had gone well. The warm shower, food and the Irish car bomb the bartender had suggested had done a number on her and she’d slept like the dead for almost four hours. Once she awoke and thought about the night, she didn’t want to be alone and she didn’t want to sit by the phone waiting to see if Sean was going to call her.


She decided to head south on Duval for O’Hara’s. Katie should have been setting up the karaoke by then. Not that she had to set up much—it was her uncle’s bar, and nothing was going to happen to any of her equipment there.


As she walked down the street, she knew that many of the shopkeepers and servers at outside restaurants watched her as she went by. Just another reminder that people would not quickly forget her face, or the story that was associated with it.


Such gruesome murders did not occur without a great deal of sensationalism.


She wondered sometimes if whoever had killed Travis and Georgia—she didn’t believe for a minute that it had been Carlos Roca—had relished the attention that the killings had brought. The police had questioned both her and Jay about their enemies. To the best of her knowledge, she didn’t have any. Nor did Jay. They had led simple lives, gone to college, gone out into the world, worked really hard and survived. That had come from a lot of twenty-hour days at film school, but they had paid off. She knew she was lucky, too; she knew the water, thanks to her father.


Ah, her father! As far as her parents knew, right now she was just in the Keys with Katie. She knew they wouldn’t be happy if they knew what she was doing—trying to retrace the steps she had previously taken and find out if there was an answer anywhere. Maybe, if she had convinced Sean, they would find nothing. But she would have the satisfaction of knowing that she had tried everything that was in her power to find out the truth.


When she reached O’Hara’s, she found that Katie and David were seated at the bar. Katie was ready to go when the time rolled around, and she was snacking on conch fritters with David and sipping a soda. The two were in deep conversation when she arrived. She wondered what they were talking about—they shut up the moment they saw her.


David Beckett stood politely, offering her the stool next to Katie. She tried to tell him to sit, but he wouldn’t, so she thanked him and sat down. “I hear we’re on,” Katie said happily.


“We are?” Vanessa asked.


“Sean called and asked if I was sure it was a direction I willing to go in—and I must say I’m intrigued. We’ve had Liam studying what information he can from various sources, and it is one of the most disturbing mysteries of recent time,” David told her.


Katie looked at Vanessa with triumph. She had an “I told you so” look in her eyes.


“We started interviewing for researchers and our film crew today,” David said.


“And how did that go?”


David grinned. “Sean said that not one of the people we saw had your credentials. But some seemed okay. We actually have a number of friends who are top-notch, but most of them are already committed to projects—it’s tough, even for the best people, so when something is up, you commit fast. And I admit, we didn’t set this up ahead very far, which might have helped in that area.”


“I’m still sure you can find the people you need,” Vanessa said.

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