“She’s far more perceptive than you’ll ever be,” Bartholomew said.
“Thank you so much,” Sean said dryly.
“You want everything to be black and white,” Bartholomew said. “You want science and explanations.”
“There is probably a science to everything,” Sean said. He looked at Bartholomew. “We just haven’t figured it all out yet.”
“I hope not—I hope something is left to a—a dimension of faith, or the next world, be it Heaven or Hell,” Bartholomew said earnestly. “God forbid someone discovers how to force a soul to stay on this earthly plain.”
Sean looked from Bartholomew to Vanessa. “You hear him clearly, too?”
“Perfectly. Actually, we had a lovely discussion this afternoon. He’s been around watching out for me a great deal of the time. I kept feeling as if there were…something. Of course, I didn’t believe in ghosts,” she said. “But now…”
“Oh, please,” Bartholomew said. “You are not all sharing a mental experience, or conjuring the same imaginary friend.”
Vanessa smiled and laughed easily. “No. Now I know,” she told him. She spoke to him fondly.
Well.
“You…should have told me that you…that you knew there might be some things that were—unexplainable,” Vanessa said. “It would have helped me a lot.”
He got up and walked around the table to her, taking her hands. “Vanessa…trust me, if I hadn’t thought that…well, seriously, you know…most people can’t see Bartholomew.”
“Frankly, I was stunned,” Bartholomew said.
“I—think we’re at a point where we need to trust one another,” Vanessa said.
He kissed her gently on the lips. “Yes, but you must understand—”
“Oh, yes. I do. Just as you really need to understand that I came here not knowing that Jay and the others would show up—and that when you think about it, it’s not odd at all,” she said solemnly.
He pulled her to her feet. He smoothed her hair back. “I’ll never doubt you again,” he said softly.
“Oh, good God,” Bartholomew said. “I thought we were going out.”
They both turned to look at him.
“Never mind. I’m going out.” He looked at them, shook his head and made a tsking sound. “I shall see you when you get there.”
Vanessa wound her arms around Sean’s neck and kissed him. A few minutes later, he told her huskily that if they were going to leave, they needed to go. And they did.
O’Hara’s was insane that night, inside. People had heard about the excitement of finding a pendant from the ill-fated Santa Geneva that had once graced the neck of Dona Isabella, and then the discovery of a body in a chest—and the theft of the body in the trunk. For a while, as everyone arrived, they stayed inside, but when they had all gathered at last, Jamie suggested the patio, a private area in the back, and they all agreed.
Everyone in their group who would be heading out the following day was there.
Clarinda was doing her first night as a karaoke hostess, and despite her innate shyness, she was doing very well.
They could hear the singers and the music faintly, and the night was typically beautiful, not really cool but not hot.
Vanessa sipped a Guinness, enjoying the taste and leaned back against Sean, oddly relaxed. She’d seen a ghost.
And the ghost had proved to be real, or a real mass hallucination. Apparently, Bartholomew had actually been Katie’s ghost and helped out in David’s time of trouble; though Liam wasn’t really in on actually seeing and conversing with the ghost, he knew there was something.
And as crazy as it sounded, she wasn’t frightened anymore—she was in awe. It was actually something of a dream come true, actually conversing with someone who had lived almost two centuries ago. He had told her his own sad story, which had connected bizarrely with David’s, and then he had told her that somehow, he knew it just wasn’t right for him to leave yet—follow the light to wherever it might bring him—because he felt he was still needed on Earth. Which was really fine now, because after years and years and years, he had finally met the lady in white, his Lucinda, who had been a lonely figure walking up and down Duval and haunting the cemetery for years—afraid to reach out to others. Bartholomew had no explanation as to why some people had a sense of something, and some actually saw ghosts. Some saw particular ghosts and not others and, of course, there were plenty of ghosts to be seen! The streets of Key West were often riddled with ghosts; after all, people had been dying there forever.
Bartholomew hadn’t come to O’Hara’s with them; he was determined to join the film project, and so he would spend the night with his beautiful Lucinda.
Vanessa was leaning against Sean. They sat at one of the benches horse-style and it was easy and comfortable to lean against his back.
Sean and David had spent some time delineating duties for each member of the crew and assigning boats. Then Sean lifted his beer. “To success—and safety!” he said.