He stared down at her and shook his head sadly. “Vanessa, I have to notify the authorities. If he’s been living here—”
“He hasn’t been living here,” she said.
“What? How do you know? Did he accost you?” he asked, coming down beside her again, drawing her to him. “Did he hurt you, did he threaten you, did—”
“No, no, no. I never got close to him. But he was in Key West.”
He eased away, trying to study her face again. “You saw him in Key West, and you didn’t tell me?” he asked her.
“I didn’t know that I had seen him. I thought that I might have seen him,” she said. “But then, God knows what I see anymore!”
“So he is following you,” Sean said.
“I don’t know that. And if he is, I swear, I think it’s because he needs help.”
“Vanessa, what happened to the trust thing that was supposed to be going on between us?” he asked her softly.
“I do trust you. I just know how you feel.”
He nodded slowly. “You wouldn’t have told me now—except that Bartholomew saw him, too.”
“Your ghost,” she reminded him dryly.
He stood. He reached for his jeans again. “Sean—”
“Vanessa, I’m really sorry. The authorities have to know,” he told her. He walked to the deck. Ted was leaning back on the aft cushions, watching the stars—and the dock.
“What’s up?” he asked.
“A Carlos Roca sighting,” he said. “I’m going up to radio the Coast Guard and let the police know that the man was seen in Miami.”
“Roca?” Ted sat up straight. “Do you think… Wow. Do you think he’ll come after the rest of that crew?”
“Ted, we’re traveling the way we are just to make sure we don’t have trouble and that no one can take us by surprise. But if you’re worried about you and Jaden, I can leave you here and you can get a rental car to take home.”
“No. No,” Ted told him. “We’re on this. We’ve discussed it. We’re with you all the way. And I’m ready. Trust me. I’m ready.” He showed Sean that he had a speargun down by his side. “I know how to use this faster than a winking eye, and you know it.”
Sean nodded. “Yeah, I know.”
He radioed the Coast Guard first, and then called the police, and then David. Bartholomew was seated in the companion seat, aware of Ted just below.
“She told you,” Bartholomew said.
Sean nodded.
Bartholomew looked out at the water, at the various boats docked at the public marina. “You had to know,” he said.
“Yep.”
“I’ll be on deck,” Bartholomew said.
Sean smiled. “Thanks.”
He went back down, telling Ted that he’d spell him in three hours.
He went back to his cabin.
Vanessa’s eyes were closed. He didn’t think that she was sleeping, but he lay down beside her without touching her.
A moment later she spoke in the darkness. “You called the police?”
“Yes.”
She was silent, staying on her own side of the bed. He didn’t press the matter. He had done what he had to do, even if he understood that the man had been her friend and she believed in him.
But everyone on that island had been her friend. She trusted them all.
And the more he thought about it all, the more he learned, Sean didn’t believe that there had been someone in a boat who had slipped onto the island, killed Travis, gone after Carlos Roca and Georgia, killed Georgia, dismembered two bodies, and escaped with the boat and Carlos Roca, who was now miraculously alive and well.
That was too suspect.
Someone in that film crew had been guilty. Someone knew more than they were saying. And with the violence and brutality of the murders, he doubted that it was someone who had killed only once, for a purpose. That someone had killed before, had probably killed again, and would keep killing. It seemed likely that maybe that person was involved in a murder conspiracy with Carlos Roca.
“I’m sorry,” Sean said.
“So am I,” she said.
He smiled. “Are you sorry that I called the police—or sorry that you didn’t tell me earlier?”
“Both,” she said after a moment.
He rolled toward her and reached for her, pulling her into his arms. “Please understand. It’s a dangerous world out there,” he said softly.
“I know,” she told him gravely.
He nodded. He wasn’t sure what else to say. He kissed her. And then he knew that he’d have to leave soon enough, take his turn on guard duty.
He made love to her, slowly, tenderly, and she responded, making love in turn, her kisses gentle, her whispers soft…her movement fluid. They winced together at one point—it was a boat, and they were trying to be quiet, and they were, but…
They lay together afterward, and the boat rocked gently, and he heard a distant bell.
“I don’t think that it will matter that I called the Miami police,” he told her.
“Why not?”
“Because I think he’s already out there. Carlos Roca knows where we’re going, he knows our route, and he knows we’re headed for Haunt Island.
“And he’s already on his way.”
14