“What the hell do you mean, fine?”
“I guess there was some trouble-and that you might have been right.”
“What?”
“Sam Barnard was at the museum. Sean and Katie heard him, and there was a major tussle, I guess between Sam and Sean. But Katie had gotten through to Pete Dryer and he arrested Sam. Katie might have lost her phone, what with everything going on. Anyway, she’s supposed to be at work now. Should I leave you there?”
“Yeah. You’re sure everything is all right?”
“The lieutenant called it in. He had it under control,” Liam said. “Look, I’ll leave you at the bar, and I’ll head to Katie’s house, and then, if she’s not working or at her place, I’ll meet up with you at Craig’s place. Your place. Whatever.”
“All right, thanks,” David said.
He didn’t know why. He’d been the one pointing out all the reasons that it had to have been Sam Barnard. But was it?
Liam let him off before reaching the insanity of Duval Street. David turned the corner and headed into O’Hara’s. Katie had not set up.
He found Clarinda and caught her by the arm. “Katie, where’s Katie?” he demanded.
“She hasn’t come in yet.” Clarinda’s eyes widened. “She isn’t with you?”
“She’s with Sean. She was with Sean.”
“Jamie just sent Jonas to the house. She hasn’t answered her phone, and neither has Sean. Jamie is breathing fire,” Clarinda said. “Oh, my God! Has something happened?”
“I’m heading to my house. If she shows up here, call me immediately. Screw Jamie and every customer in this place, Clarinda, and call me!”
“Oh, my God, David, you’re scaring the hell out of me!” Clarinda said.
“Just call me!”
He didn’t have time to reassure Clarinda, not when suddenly he was so convinced that he didn’t have time. He left the bar, and ran down the backstreets. A drunken party of six swaggered by him, almost knocking him over. A woman, in ridiculously high heels, staggered and caught his arm.
“Cool, thanks… Hey, help us along there, shoulders, will ya?” she asked.
He pressed her onto the nearest man; if they all fell flat on their faces, so be it.
He hopped a hedge to race across the lawn and up the porch steps of his house. He inserted the key in the lock, and twisted it. He reached inside to flick on the lights.
The electricity was out.
Her heard movement in the bushes and swung around. Liam.
“What’s going on?” Liam asked.
“Electric.”
Liam swore. He reached for his phone. David stopped him. “If he has them, they might still be alive. No alarms.”
Liam nodded. He drew his service revolver and they went into the house. “Fuse box?” Liam asked.
David nodded. “I can see-I can see enough.”
He went up the stairs and made a hurried sweep of the house. He came back down the stairs and went into the dining room.
The books lay on the table, undisturbed.
He turned to go back and look for his cousin.
But he was shoved. Shoved, back toward the table.
He swung around, ready to fight, ready to survive. There was no one there.
He was shoved toward the table again.
The top book flew open.
He drew out a penlight and threw the glow onto the page. He looked at it, puzzled. It was a family tree. He turned the page.
The paper nearly ripped as the page turned back.
“What? What?” he demanded aloud. The book offered a host of pages of old names, the kind of names the streets had taken on in honor of early residents, and names of those who had gone before and not been honored.
He studied the page again that the unseen entity wanted him to read. The headline read, Smith.
He ran his fingers down the page, following the descendants through the ages, births, marriages and deaths.
He swore aloud as Liam came back into the house. “Search this place, top to bottom!” he told him. “Get someone here, Liam, quickly, for the love of God!”
David burst out into the night and started running.
Katie was stunned as she heard movement-real movement-behind her. She blinked, trying to adjust to the slim filter of outside light that made its way in.
She longed to cry out; she was terrified for Sean. Tears stung her eyes.
She couldn’t cry out. She had to find Sean in silence.
A noise startled her.
She swung around. It was as if the museum had been activated. Next to the hanging tree, military ruler Porter waved a broadside that promised death to all pirates. His arms were jerking spasmodically. His jaw jerked and there was an awful moment when he talked without sound.
Then a bad recording came on. Rasping and hollow. “Death…death…death…to…to…all…all…all…pirates!”
She moved quickly by Porter, only to crash into a tall robotic of a wrecker.