Bone Island 01 - Ghost Shadow

“Come along in,” Esther urged Katie, taking her by the arm.

 

They were all introduced to a woman named Betsy, an attractive thirtysomething Bahamian who tended to the elderly sisters’ needs. She had already set up lunch on what the sisters referred to as their spring porch, a back porch with a tiled floor and screened windows that caught the sea breezes.

 

Lunch was a feast. Salad with berries and nuts, blackened grouper, vegetarian pasta-just in case-and all manner of fresh-baked breads.

 

The conversation was light at first as David and Sean talked about a few of their foreign exploits with photography and film, and Katie explained how she had wanted to come home to live, and thus formed her corporation, Katie-oke.

 

They were delighted.

 

“I used to carry quite a melody in my day!” Alice assured her.

 

“Ever hear a honking swan?” Esther asked.

 

“Esther!” Alice chastised.

 

“I’m teasing you, dear, of course!” Esther said. “My sister still has a lovely voice for a torch song.”

 

“I’ll have to get you in there,” Katie told her.

 

“Well, certainly, but not until Fantasy Fest is over,” Alice said.

 

Later, when pecan pie had been served, they moved out to the parlor for “a touch of sherry,” as Alice phrased it.

 

“Excellent for the constitution,” Esther assured them.

 

“What is that, Aunt Alice?” David asked, pointing to a large ledgerlike book that sat atop the mantel.

 

“That?” Alice replied. “That is our family history, young man. It’s always been there. You’ve never asked before.”

 

“May I?” he asked.

 

“Certainly. We’ve been here forever-but then your family has, too, Katie, Sean.”

 

David stood and brought the large, embossed book back to the sofa. “How old is this thing?” he asked.

 

“Oh, it was started in the eighteen twenties,” Aunt Esther said. “The first fellow to write in it was Craig Beckett-not your grandfather, David, of course.”

 

“He was quite a man, from all accounts,” Alice said proudly.

 

“Craig Beckett?” Katie said. She wanted to see the book herself. Actually, she wanted to take it right out of David’s hand. “He was a sea captain, right?”

 

“Yes, dear, he was. He sailed for Commodore Perry, and then for David Porter. In fact, the name David came into our family because of David Porter. Craig was admired far and wide. He could take down pirates-but he wasn’t a cruel man. I mean, many a pirate was hanged here, of course, but if a man could prove himself a privateer, Craig Beckett always showed mercy. He was strong, and he was fair.”

 

David was turning pages carefully. The ledger was nearly two hundred years old. It hadn’t been kept under glass-it was part of the family’s heritage, and Katie was certain that both aunts had read it through and through.

 

“Ah, well, look-he writes it himself. He had a fellow named Smith hanged. Seems like Smith was a bit of a bastard. Attacked a ship and killed all aboard-then saw another man hanged for the deed.” David closed the book, carefully set it back on the mantel, and turned to his aunts. “That was wonderful. I’ll be in town for a while, at least. Next time, I’ll take you out.”

 

Sean rose and Katie followed suit. The aunts stood as well, ready to walk their guests to the door.

 

“David, darling, you must come here again, too-anytime. You’re family, and we do love you so!” Esther told him.

 

“Of course. But I want to take you out.”

 

“I’m afraid it will have to be somewhere quiet these days,” Esther said. “We’ll talk!”

 

They both stood on tiptoe to kiss David then Sean goodbye. When they came to hug Katie, she asked, “Would you two trust me to take your ledger for a few days? I would absolutely love to read it. I’ll be very careful with it.”

 

“Well, of course!” Ester said. “We’ll be delighted for you to read it.”

 

“And we know you’ll take care with it,” Alice said.

 

She thanked them. Sean looked at her and rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “I’m going to be careful!” she whispered to him.

 

“It’s a bit frightening, borrowing a family treasure,” Sean said, aware that the others were looking at the two of them.

 

“Katie, I know you’ll take it home and take good care of it,” Alice said. “We’re not worried in the least.”

 

“I’ll defend it with my life,” Katie promised.

 

“Good Lord, don’t do that, child,” Alice said, smiling. “Your life is worth far more.”

 

A minute later, they were in the car, heading back. One of the streets was blocked for construction; Katie hadn’t intended on coming down Duval with its throngs of tourists, but she did so.

 

“Good God, what is that?” Sean demanded from the backseat.

 

“What?” she asked. Her eyes were on the road. Tourists didn’t have the sense to look before they stepped off the sidewalk.

 

A red light allowed her the chance to look. One of the shops had a Robert the Doll mannequin out in front, except it was oversize.