Vanessa enjoyed dinner; they all piled aboard the hull and deck of the Claddagh for their first major meal together, and she sat back with Katie, enjoying the light sway of the boat in the still night. That morning, the nightmare had all but faded away, and yet she was left to wonder if she had really seen Carlos Roca, if her dreams weren’t some kind of a warning.
And if she should tell Sean that she had seen him.
But everyone seemed to think that he had to be guilty. If she told anyone else at all—even Sean—and he appeared again somewhere, someone might shoot to kill.
She had to have imagined Carlos.
Except that she hadn’t imagined a dead pirate.
Odd, but true.
And Bartholomew was there. He hadn’t come across to the Claddagh. He stood at the bow of the Conch Fritter, just looking out over the sea. She wondered what he was thinking or feeling, or if—without flesh and substance—he couldn’t feel, and yet she thought that he could. She decided then that the soul had to consist of both intelligence and the heart, and it was rather sad, because pain could then remain long after death.
Marty played his guitar and sang on deck, and Katie joined him. Bill and Zoe engaged in a game of chess. Jamie, Liam, David and Sean closed themselves away in the cabin of the Claddagh for about an hour, planning and charting, and when they were through, Vanessa was ready to return to the Conch Fritter and head into bed.
It was nice to sleep with the captain, she decided. The master cabin very comfortable. Marty was given the convertible couch in the main cabin, while Ted and Jaden were portside and Jay and Zoe were in the slim bunks on the starboard side.
Vanessa went to bed by herself because Sean took first watch on the Conch Fritter while Liam took first watch on the Claddagh.
Watches were in four-hour shifts. As she curled comfortably into the master cabin’s bed, Vanessa realized that the schedule for watch duty included everyone—but someone in Sean’s group would be on one of the decks at all times.
Did he distrust someone he had hired on? she wondered. Or was he always that careful and wary?
She thought about Jay wanting to sell their film; a major distributor could mean really decent money, and she knew that he needed the money—and that he still had dreams of producing and directing his own films.
It just disturbed her.
She stared at the small table by the bed that held a reading lamp. She noticed that there was a newspaper there, beneath one of Sean’s books. She glanced at the book and noticed that it was on the numerous wrecks in the area. She pulled out the newspaper beneath it.
The headline on the page read, “Missing!”
Beneath it was a picture of two couples standing on a dock. They wore white casual boating clothes and hats, and they were all older, attractive people with happy smiles.
Sean had told her about more disappearances. Disappearances in the area. She scanned the article. Both Mark Houghton and Dale Johnson were experienced captains. They loved traveling together, and though they had made more distant trips, they were sun and warm-water people and set off every couple of months together to tour a part of the Caribbean.
They enjoyed camping on Haunt Island.
She winced and set the article down. She’d been so busy lately that she hadn’t seen anything on the disappearance. Of course Sean had known about it.
There had always been disappearances. But now this. A year after the Delphi.
Two years after the murders of Travis and Georgia.
She closed her eyes and tried to sleep.
A while later, she felt Sean crawling in beside her, and she sidled up against the warmth of his naked length and lay awake for a very long time.
The sun was rising in the east.
It was almost morning, almost time for their first dive as a complete crew.
She wondered if she was afraid.
No, Vanessa thought. She wasn’t afraid of diving. She wasn’t afraid of figureheads in the water, or even the absurdity of her dreams.
She was afraid of reaching Haunt Island.
13
The dive that morning was beautiful and uneventful. They went down to several of the wrecks on the Shipwreck Trail in Biscayne National Park. Reefs were beautiful, and though modern technology helped, ships and boats still had to be wary. The Alicia, built in Scotland, had slammed into the Ajax reef and the outline of the ship hosted a massive ecosystem of brilliantly colored fish, rays, nurse sharks, groupers and more. It was a beautiful wreck to film, and it was one that Vanessa had filmed before. They had shot scenes of their characters off enjoying themselves before they had stumbled upon the legend and the horror of the ghosts who had come back to tear them to shreds.
That afternoon, they docked at Dinner Key in Miami, since they would begin the voyage across the straits—in the Bermuda Triangle—to reach Haunt Island in the morning. They had a late lunch at Monty’s on the water, and after, Sean announced that they were all welcome to do what they wished as long as they were aboard and ready to leave again first thing in the morning.
Vanessa was surprised when Sean suggested that she and Katie and whoever else wanted to should explore the area, go to a club, do something enjoyable.