Stella stepped forward. Now we’re all gone, all gone, and there are impressions and things we see in our minds… Katie, help, you must help, you are the only one who can help.
She had the oddest sensation of being approached by the ghosts of Christmas past, present and future, all in one. Air seemed to sweep around her in massive currents. She was suddenly standing with a group in back of La Concha Hotel. She could hear the ghost-tour guide speaking, talking about the tragic suicides from the roof, and telling the story of the young man who haunted the place, a young man who had perished in the not-too-distant past when he had been distracted by a pretty young woman and plunged to his death down an elevator shaft.
Danny was with her. So was Tanya. And Stella. They were grouped around her on the tour. The others in the group seemed to be faceless. The guide was wearing a Victorian frock coat and vest, and a top hat. She couldn’t see his face. But then he turned. His face was Danny’s face.
The tour group moved from tragic event to tragic event. All the while, the tour guide talked of the ghosts that still haunted these places. Behind him, like the chorus in a Greek tragedy, Tanya and Stella sobbed softly.
“She’s still here,” Danny said clearly. “She’s still here. Go anywhere on the island, wax museum, oddities museum, history museum, you’ll see our dear Elena, Elena Milagro de Hoyos… You will see her. She is Key West. She is our most famous, and most bizarre, story.”
Tanya let out a long, wailing cry, and the wind shifted and the earth moved beneath Katie’s feet.
They were standing before the hanging tree.
By the tree, the building began to fade and disappear. Next door, where the main section of Captain Tony’s stood, bar stools evaporated, and she might have been on a whirlwind tour through a time machine. Bar…telegraph office…morgue…the visions swept by. Then, the landscape was suddenly raw and overgrown, rocky, with patches around them that were barren. She could hear the sound of the water, coming from the south, coming from the north, and the west. It was all around her…
A man was being dragged to the gallows…
Cursing…
Cursing a man named Beckett who looked on with fierce and furious eyes, eyes that seemed so familiar…
Again, the wind blew; it was as if she stood still while a hurricane raged. Time whipped by her. Fishermen, pirates, wreckers, smugglers and thieves…soldiers in blue, and soldiers in gray, and then sailors from a country united once again. She heard a cry on the wind. “Remember the Maine!”
And then, suddenly, the world was still. She was walking down a long hall in a building.
A strange-looking, skinny old man turned to her, arms before him, fingers flexing. “It is love, love for what is ours, love. Love-ah, yes, and family name. We are all that we create. And I have created love.”
He moved aside. There was a bed, within the confines of an airplane cabin. There was a woman in a bridal gown, laid upon the bed.
It was just an exhibit. Count von Cosel, and his Elena.
But Elena rose from the bed and looked up. It wasn’t Elena. Katie stared at her own countenance. She was there. She had taken Elena’s place in the exhibit this time.
Her own arm raised and pointed.
She turned.
And once again, she was staring at the hanging tree, and the noose and the dead man who dangled and swung beneath the branches.
“Katie!” David said.
She had let out a cry; she was sitting up in bed, soaked with beads of perspiration, and yet shaking as if it had suddenly plunged to ten degrees in Key West.
He drew her to him. “Katie, I’m here, Katie, it’s all right. You had a nightmare.”
She stared at him. For a moment, her eyes were unfocused. Then she seemed to really see his face.
“It was just a nightmare, Katie. And I’m here. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”
She relaxed in his arms. Then she pulled away. She stood, and she was naked and beautiful and natural, but somehow putting a distance between them, as well.
“Katie?”
She sighed, sat back down next to him and said, “David, even if we’d found Danny alive, he wouldn’t have been able to help us. He wasn’t blackmailing anyone, but someone did think that he’d seen something, or knew something. I think he had the books on Key West just because he wanted to make his stories better, but the killer knew that there was something in the books-in the history of Key West-that might give him away. He saw Stella the night before she died. The killer must have thought that Danny saw him then, because he’d seen Stella, and maybe the murderer. That’s why Danny died.”
“What?” David said blankly. Her words were so assured and natural. “Katie-”
“You’re going to walk out on me, David. But you have to believe me.”
“Katie, I don’t understand you. Your words about Danny are making sense, but…you had a nightmare.”
“No. It wasn’t just a nightmare. I-I see things that other people don’t, David.”