“Cut,” Sean said. “Perfect!”
“Great,” David agreed.
“Should we do another, for safety’s sake?” Marty asked anxiously.
David glanced and Sean and shrugged with a grin.
“Sure, we’ve got the time, the people, and you—you’re an amazing intro, Marty,” Sean said.
Marty was pleased. He blushed. He picked up his guitar again, explained that it was an old sea shanty his father had taught him, one that had come down from old pirating days.
The next take was even better. Marty was just warming up.
They spent a while longer there, letting Marty go over a few facts and figures from history and the area, and then they wrapped it up.
While they packed the equipment, Jay asked, “Can I get started immediately on the footage, show you just what you’ll be getting?”
Sean hesitated, wondering what his problem was with Jay. Of course, he knew. Allen was close with Vanessa Loren. He was being unreasonable.
“Yes.”
“I’ll go back now—”
“Go to my place. I’ve got the equipment set up that you need,” Sean said.
Jay nodded with pleasure. “You won’t be disappointed.”
“If that comes out well enough, you’ll be wanting to take some shots at the setup for Pirates in Paradise, down by Fort Zachary Taylor,” Marty said. “Costumes, knives, swords, reproductions of all kinds. Pirate food and grog. Hey, everybody wants to be a pirate. Everybody wants to be Johnny Depp in Pirates of the Caribbean, huh?”
They all agreed that Johnny Depp had done wonders for piracy, and then left the house at last. David went on to find Katie, and Sean took Jay Allen to his house, to the back, where he had his computer set up with all the software Jay might need.
And where he found Bartholomew, reading the screen—and pushing the keys.
“What the hell?” Jay murmured.
Sean reached over and pushed the escape key and then keyed in for his film system.
“You might have just said ‘move,’” Bartholomew said. “Or, more politely, ‘Bartholomew, old fellow, I need the computer now. Would you mind?’”
Sean didn’t respond.
“You’re good to go,” he told Jay.
“You’ll see, you’ll see—and you’ll want me more than you ever expected,” Jay promised, sitting down to get started.
“Go for it,” Sean told him.
“You’re not going to watch over my shoulder, are you?” Jay asked.
Leave this guy alone in his house?
“Don’t worry—I’ll be here, looking over his shoulder!” Bartholomew assured him.
Sean lowered his head to hide a smile. It was perfect. He could leave and yet know every single thing that went on in his house while Jay was there.
“Actually, no. I need to see a few friends,” Sean assured him.
“Okay, I’ll lock up,” Jay told him. “When I’m done. I’ll leave it in a ‘Marty’ file for you to find when you get back.”
“Great,” Sean agreed. “All right, then. I’ll call you if I don’t see you.”
He walked to the door. Bartholomew had taken another chair, at the table, his feet plunked upon it. He was watching Jay Allen with narrowed eyes.
When he headed for the door, Jay called him back. “You really don’t know how much I appreciate this opportunity.”
Sean nodded, and left.
With the door closed, he smiled. Bartholomew could be a true pest, an annoyance, taunting him when a response would make Sean appear to be totally insane.
But the old pirate/privateer was actually a damned good guy.
Oddly enough, a damned good friend.
Vanessa didn’t want to stay in her room at the inn, and she had been sincerely un-invited to be involved in the day’s shoot with Marty. She had decided to go explore down by the grounds at Fort Zachary Taylor, wearing a bathing suit beneath a cover-up dress, and force herself to stay calm and away from anyone with the name Beckett or O’Hara.
The main events of Pirates in Paradise weren’t taking place yet, but Vanessa learned from the first “pirate” she encountered that the booths would be starting to open the next day with eager, friendly vendors—all in pirate attire, of course—and that the first parties would take place that night. She was invited to come—he’d get her in free. She thanked him, said that she wasn’t sure and explored a lot of the merchandise.
At one booth, she found a beautiful display of reproduction jewelry. As she looked through the pieces she was impressed. The booth carried pen-and-ink drawings of various ships, lists of their manifests, the pirate “code of honor” and many more bills of lading and other pieces of the past, all historic copies.
She started when she looked up after studying one case to see that the picture above it was of Dona Isabella. Or at least it was a likeness similar to that which Marty had given her.