He started to leave with the newspaper, but then decided not to do so. Danny had been murdered; his body had been discovered. By Katie. Her seeing the story wasn’t going to change what had taken place. They’d both see the bloated remains of Danny Zigler in their minds for years to come, he was certain.
He reached his house and opened the door right when he heard wheels in the drive. He turned around to see that Liam was pulling into the driveway.
David walked to the driver’s side of the car. “Anything?” he asked.
“No answers,” Liam told him. “But we’re getting help. The streets will be filled with our own force tonight, and with officers down from Miami-Dade. The chief is considering canceling a lot of the events, the commissioners are going crazy and Pete has been nuts, prowling the streets.”
“It’s a good force. Your chief is a good guy-he’s been up the ladder, he’s local and he intends to make it the best force in the world, as he says,” David said.
“He put through a call to the FBI. We’re supposed to have a team of agents and profilers down here by the start of next week,” Liam said. He winced. “Some folks aren’t happy about that. We were the Conch Republic, briefly. Some of the guys are convinced we could have solved it all ourselves, but the chief says that pride isn’t worth a life. Anyway, I was actually headed to Katie’s place, looking for you. I’m going up to the M.E.’s office. Danny’s autopsy is scheduled.”
“Is that an invitation?”
“You hitchhiking?” Liam asked.
“Hell, yes.”
He got into the car. “Thanks.”
Katie woke with a start. She had been deeply asleep, but when she woke, she remembered the dream.
And that she had told David that-ghosts came to her.
He hadn’t believed her. Neither had he walked away. She had told him about Bartholomew. He hadn’t said that she was stark, raving mad.
She shivered, remembering herself as the corpse of Elena de Hoyos.
Maybe it meant nothing. No, it meant that two women had already been left that way!
They always came back to the hanging tree.
That was what was important, she thought.
When she came downstairs, she didn’t see David, but Sean was at the computer. She thought that he was working. But he was looking up sites on the Internet. Sites that had to do with Key West.
“Hey. Where’s David?” she asked.
“He went to his place. He wanted to read through the books that Danny Zigler had apparently been reading,” Sean told her. He rose and stretched, pushing away from the computer chair. “You know, just a few years ago, they dug up seven bodies from the cemetery, trying to match them with DNA to missing persons cases.”
“I remember, vaguely.”
“And you know where most of our investigations into unnatural deaths are centered?”
“Accident victims? Drunk drivers?” Katie asked, pouring coffee.
Sean said, “No. Drowning and diving and snorkeling accidents.”
“I suppose that makes sense,” Katie said. “Sean, what are you trying to do?”
He shook his head with disgust. “Find anything that we don’t know about Tanya’s murder. Instead, I think I’ve just become a walking encyclopedia of trivia on my hometown.”
“Nothing we learn can ever hurt,” she told him.
Bartholomew took a seat at the computer. “Morning, Katie,” he said.
She ignored him. He was purposely trying to annoy Sean, she thought. He hit a computer key, and pages started flashing by.
“You really have to replace that thing, Katie,” Sean told her irritably. “Or is it the cable company? I think I had better service on the China Sea.”
“The Internet is great-when it works,” she said, staring at Bartholomew with a glare that meant, Behave!
“Sean,” she said to her brother, “I’m going to go on over to David’s.”
“All right. I’ll walk you.”
“It is broad daylight, and the streets are busy.”
“I’ll walk you.”
“All right, thank you.”
“I’ll walk you, too,” Bartholomew said. He stood up and fluffed her brother’s hair. Sean spun around, eyes narrowed.
“It’s just Bartholomew,” Katie said.
“What?” Sean demanded sharply.
She inhaled deeply. “Sean, for the love of God! You’re not blind, you’re not an idiot. I know you’ve spent your life afraid that people will think I’m crazy, and I get that! But you have to feel it, you have to have seen things move. Please, Sean, right now, it’s important that you believe in me!”
He rose. He dragged his fingers through his hair. “I don’t want to believe!” he whispered.
“Admit that there’s something!” she told him.
He held his breath; he let out a sigh. Bartholomew laughed, and tousled Sean’s hair again. Sean jumped.
“It’s Bartholomew, and-” Katie winced. “He’s my friend. He wants to help us, and maybe he can. Please, Sean, for once, and now, believe in me!”
Sean was still for a long moment. “Yes, there’s something in this house,” he said.
“Someone. It’s Bartholomew. He’s real, Sean.”