“No, you’re forgetting that such an establishment as O’Hara’s didn’t really exist in my lady’s day. Quite frankly, there was a house of disrepute on this very corner back then, and it was certainly no place where Lucinda would come. That’s why she wanders so much. Of course, she knows that it’s not a house of prostitution now, but still…memories will linger.”
With a touch to his hat, he was gone. Sean watched him. Out on Duval, a rather staggered trail of tourists was wandering by. Oblivious to them, Bartholomew met his Lucy, his lady in white, in the street. He took both her hands in his own and looked down into her eyes, laughing at something she said. The tourists continued to move on by…smiling, chatting to one another, unaware of the tenderness that went on beneath their noses. One young woman paused and looked in their direction, and then smiled. The young man at her side paused as well, asking her what she saw, what made her smile, so it appeared. She shrugged and replied, stood on her toes and briefly kissed his lips, and then kept moving.
Sean saw Liam beyond the door. Like the young woman, he paused, as if sensing something there. But he didn’t see the ghostly duo. He shrugged and came on in. He took the seat Bartholomew had vacated.
Liam knew about Bartholomew. One night, they had tried to explain. Liam tried to believe them; he just couldn’t. He didn’t see Bartholomew, or hear his voice. He didn’t show his skepticism, but Sean knew it was there. Liam seemed to think they were victims of a shared hysterical hallucination, but he didn’t voice his thoughts or his doubts.
“How’s the hiring going?” Liam asked them both. Clarinda came by then, asking them what they’d like. Sean ordered a Guinness, wondering if the dark mellow tones would lighten his mood. Liam opted for one as well, musing that it sounded good when Sean ordered it.
“We met some folks who are possibilities. I’d take one Frazier Nivens over the six people we saw today, but he’s working,” Sean said.
“You’re doing all right though, really,” Liam argued. “You’ve got me and Katie—and Vanessa. David and you, and you’ll be fine with a few more people. I’m not great, but I’m a solid backup guy on the boat and I can hold an extension and boom arm when you’re recording on deck—good muscles for that. I did it enough for both of you when we were kids and recording backyard bands and some of our great oceanic discoveries like old work boots. And I can haul anything you need in the water.”
“Hey, Liam, we’re thrilled with you going. Hate the idea of you taking time off now, though,” David said. “It’s such a bad time.”
“You know you are always wanted,” Sean assured him. “And I’ve just had another applicant.”
“Someone in the bar?” Liam asked.
Sean indicated Vanessa Loren’s booth. “Jay Allen— Vanessa’s friend, and the director of the ill-fated film shoot.”
“Ah,” Liam said. “And what are you thinking?”
“I don’t know,” Sean said. “I’m irritated in a way—it’s kind of like Vanessa was sent in as a vanguard, and now he’s here.”
“Send in beauty, and then bring the beast?” Liam asked dryly.
“She pretends to be—or is—unaware that he planned on coming,” Sean said.
“And it may be the truth,” David told him.
“I don’t like the idea of being used,” Sean said.
“Liam, want to be in charge of another background check?” David asked his cousin.
Liam grinned. “Way ahead of you guys. I checked out everyone on that film crew. I even did cursory checks into the one or two day jobbers they took on in different locations, and the other four cast members. Jay Allen appears to be clean as a whistle. Got through school with excellent marks—and perfect attendance, for whatever that is worth. He’s never been arrested, pays his bills on time and works out of Palm Beach most of the time now—that’s where he has his office. He directed segments of a historical series set up in Virginia, chronicling the men in the Civil War. And he won an award for editing. He’s got good reports from every employer. They say that he is imaginative, dedicated and responsible.”
“And no corpses turned up anywhere else he worked, right?” Sean asked.
“No. The movie project collapsing caused him to fall into a steady decline, though, I’m afraid. He lost his personal savings, obviously—just like Vanessa,” Liam said.
“But she’s doing all right?” Sean asked.
“Yes—maybe because she wasn’t the director of the project. Who knows why certain people wind up suffering and others don’t?” Liam said.
“Okay, say we take on Jay Allen. It might not be a bad thing,” David said. “If we’ve agreed we’re following this trail, why not?”