“And what can you really tell us?” Sean asked.

“That she’s not Dona Isabella!” Jaden burst out.

“What?” Vanessa said.

“Come, come, I’ll show you,” Dr. Aislinn said. “Dr. Latham, if you’ll assist me?”

They walked over to the chest and Latham carefully opened it and offered Dr. Aislinn a set of latex gloves from his pocket. After pulling them on, she reached in and touched the woman’s bodice. “This is cotton, and if you’ll notice—it’s difficult to see with the staining. If you’ll hold the flashlight up, Dr. Latham?—that’s home sewing. Dr. Latham, the hands if you will? I can’t draw them out—we’d break up the mummy—but you’ll note the nails. They’re chipped and broken, and not the nails of a lady. Whoever this woman was, she didn’t grow up in the lap of luxury. From what I’ve learned about this story, your Dona Isabella was supposedly killed on Haunt Island—or she went down with the ship in the storm. I don’t know who this is, but it’s not a lady of the time.”

“Can you date the corpse to a certain age?” Sean asked.

“Not without a more comprehensive examination,” Dr. Aislinn said. “But…” She shrugged. “My guess? Between twenty and thirty. I’m going to need X-rays of the teeth and skull, the hips—all those things help establish age. However, I think you’ve found a pirate’s wench, perhaps a poor girl traveling as a maid or a servant.”

“We hope to be able to give you a great deal more,” Dr. Latham said.

“I’m sure you’re disappointed that it wasn’t a chest of gold doubloons, but this is just an amazing scientific find!” Dr. Aislinn said. She looked at Vanessa. “It’s extraordinary. I heard you also discovered the pendant—the exquisite mermaid pendant—that Ted showed me earlier. You’re quite an amazing woman, Miss Loren. You might have missed your calling as a salvage diver or treasure seeker!”

To Sean’s surprise, Vanessa’s smile seemed forced and her face seemed pale.

“Oh, I rather like what I do,” she said.

“How did you find these relics?” Dr. Latham asked.

“Beginner’s luck,” she said with a shrug. “And I wasn’t looking? I don’t know.”

“Well,” Dr. Aislinn said. “You have made an absolutely amazing discovery here. The mermaid pendant, of course, is beautiful. But the body! We can’t thank you enough. We’re delighted to be doing the research!”

“Wait!” Ted said. “You didn’t tell them the most gruesome part yet.” He looked at Sean and Vanessa and shook his head. “I mean, we know that the pirates could be violent. And what with the story of Haunt Island, it shouldn’t be surprising.”

Jaden said, “Horrible, just horrible. But—of course, long over now.”

“What?” Sean demanded.

“At first,” Dr. Aislinn said, “I thought that someone must have cared for this young woman deeply. Most of the time, those who died at sea were wrapped in shrouds—if that!—and sent overboard. This young woman was sealed in a chest. I thought that we’d discover that the cause of death had been consumption or the ravages of some other disease. But look at the neck—that’s not just decayed fabric there, or a shawl or scarf or any other such object. She was strangled. That’s the fabric with which she was strangled. I’m not sure what it is yet. We’ll know when we take a sample.”

“She was murdered,” Vanessa murmured.

“As you said,” Sean noted, “violence was common, I’m afraid.”

“Yes, but it’s curious,” Dr. Latham commented.

“Pirates blew one another to bits with cannons. They slashed with swords and cutlasses, and they shot one another with their pistols. It’s unusual that they would have strangled a woman.”

“She must have made someone very angry,” Jaden said.

“It’s going to be just fascinating to try to discover just who she was!” Dr. Aislinn said. “Of course, I understand all of you are heading out soon to start filming—a most fascinating documentary, I must say! But I’ll be in touch constantly by cell phone, and you can reach me anytime you like.”

“Thank you,” Sean told her.

“So,” Ted said, “we’re packing her up—the chest and the mummy—in the university van tomorrow morning. Tara and Dr. Latham are leaving then. But Jaden and I are about to take them out for a night on the town, Key West–style. Can you join us?”

Sean didn’t have a chance to reply.

Vanessa spoke quickly. “Oh, thank you, and I hope you’ll forgive me. It’s been a long day, and I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night, I’m afraid. But hey, you guys—take them to O’Hara’s. They’ll have a great time there.”

“O’Hara’s?” Dr. Aislinn said, grinning and looking at Sean.

“It’s my uncle’s place, and you will have a great time,” Sean said.

“Sean, I’m sorry, I’m really exhausted, but you, of course, are more than welcome to join them,” Vanessa said quickly.

She seldom looked vulnerable; for some reason that night she did. Sean felt a surge of tenderness, wanting to make sure that she was safe and warm and protected at all times.

“Sorry, all, and forgive me, too. These have been really long days. My uncle’s place has good food, reasonable drinks, and my sister is doing karaoke tonight. It’s a bit of a walk down Duval,” he said.

“Well, I do love walking, and I don’t get down here nearly enough!” Dr. Aislinn said.

Sean and Vanessa left, thanking them again. As they walked down the street, he took her hand—it was crowded that night. Girls were out in skimpy outfits and wench attire; some men were still in pirate costume while others were in jeans and T-shirts. It was Key West. A little cool that night for anything so simple as body paint, but anything might have been worn along Duval.

Vanessa was quiet, and she still seemed disturbed. “What’s wrong?” he asked her.

She made a face. “The body is creepy. I’m glad they’re taking it to Gainesville.”

“It’s not really creepy. It’s another mystery. We—you—found a pendant, which did belong to Dona Isabella, at least according to historical sketches. Then, we—you—find a body in a chest, and it proves not to be Dona Isabella. That’s interesting. I don’t remember anything about a maid traveling with her, though, of course, a woman of her stature probably did travel with a servant. Ah, maybe Mad Miller threatened her by killing the maid, and then gave her something of a decent burial. Or, God knows, maybe Kitty Cutlass did the deed.”

Vanessa shrugged. “I don’t know. We’ll have to see what they discover. Both of those doctors seemed fascinated and thrilled, so it was an incredible discovery.”

She was silent.

“Hey, you all right?”

“Of course.”

“You’re the only person who makes incredible finds who seems depressed by their talent. The pendant…well, I can see that as a fluke. But none of that chest was showing above the sand. How in hell did you become so certain there was something there?”

She paused and stopped walking and stared at him. “You really want to know? If you make fun of me now, I’ll never forgive you.”

“I will not make fun of you.”

She took a deep breath, her eyes sharp on his. “I keep thinking that I see a figurehead in the water. I dream about it, actually. It’s scary and creepy. It has Dona Isabella’s face.”

He felt his lips start to twitch and remembered he had promised not to make fun of her.

“I see,” he managed to say.

“You don’t believe a word,” she said.

“I’m not saying that!” he protested quickly. He started walking again, eager to get to his home on Elizabeth Street before he somehow managed to lose her once again. “Here’s what I think,” he said, still holding her hand, and swinging their arms easily between them as they walked. “The story goes that poor Dona Isabella was kidnapped from her transport to Spain by Mad Miller and his pirates. She was forced to Haunt Island and either murdered by Mad Miller or Kitty Cutlass, or still a prisoner—probably one who was raped and abused—when the pirate ship went down in the storm. So you see the face of Dona Isabella because you feel such sympathy for her. And it would be natural that you see the face in the water—as a figurehead—when you are instinctively honing in on something. How’s that?”

“Psychology 101?” she asked dryly.

“The mind can do amazing things,” he told her. “Then, face it, you’ve had horrible nightmares since your friends were murdered on Haunt Island—and you found them. There are all kinds of wonderful defense mechanisms in the mind.”

“What if the spirit of Dona Isabella is lurking in the water?” Vanessa asked. “Or…worse! What if Mad Miller is a decayed old pirate like Geoffrey Rush in Pirates of the Caribbean?”

He laughed.

Then he realized that she was serious.

“I remember one time, when Katie and I were small, and we were at the old cemetery, bringing flowers to the grave of one of my mom’s friends. Katie was acting nervous. My dad told her that the dead were the safest people in the world—that they couldn’t hurt anyone. He told her that she had to learn to be very smart and wary and savvy—it was the living who hurt one another.”

She nodded. “Of course. I didn’t think that Mad Miller or Kitty Cutlass rose out of the sea to kill and dismember Georgia and Travis.”

“Of course not. It’s sad to say, because I know you liked him, that most probably Carlos Roca was responsible.”

She seemed to start, and to shudder.

He set his arm around her and pulled her close.