Bone Island 03 - Ghost Moon

“What? You can’t pin it down more than that?” Liam asked, dismayed.

 

Valaski shook his head. “There was water in the lungs, so if he hadn’t died from the piercing of his heart, he would have drowned. I believe he was caught under a root or something, beneath the water, but for how long, I don’t know.”

 

“I thought you people studied larvae, flies?”

 

Valaski rolled his eyes. “We people do. But he was underwater. No flies. No maggots. No larvae, not at first. It’s impossible for me to tell you what day he was killed. Please, Liam! He was half-eaten. It’s amazing I have what I do.”

 

“I’m sorry. I’m just frustrated.”

 

“Ah, yes. Man’s inhumanity to man, but nothing as eerie as Cutter’s death!”

 

Liam shook his head. “Please, Franklin. It’s more of a mystery,” Liam said.

 

“Oh?”

 

“Why on earth murder a poor, down-and-out man specifically on the Merlin property? There was nothing to steal from him. He wasn’t high-powered. He didn’t have a wife or a mistress. There was no reason in hell for anyone to kill him,” Liam said.

 

“Well, you’re quite right, Liam,” Valaski agreed.

 

“Unless he saw something. Unless he knew something,” Liam said.

 

“And so it does have to do with Cutter and the Merlin house,” Valaski said.

 

Liam nodded. “He saw something, or he knew something, or…”

 

“Or?”

 

“Or he was simply the right victim, lured out to the Cutter estate because he was an easy mark. No family, a drifter, no friends who would immediately worry about his whereabouts.”

 

“Why would anyone kill for that reason? Unless you have a serial killer on your hands who just seeks out victims,” Valaski said.

 

“Not this time, Doc,” Liam said.

 

“Then?”

 

“He may have been lured out to the Merlin house and murdered there precisely because the property had belonged to Cutter Merlin. And someone wants everyone to be afraid of the house, to think that it’s hexed or cursed.”

 

Valaski stared at him, frowning. Then he shrugged. “I solve the mystery of the body, my friend. The mystery of murder is up to you.”

 

 

 

Darkness had fallen when Kelsey awoke.

 

She felt puzzled for a moment, not sure where she was. Then she knew, of course. She remembered the compulsion that she had to keep her door locked or she would awaken to find someone staring at her.

 

She felt a moment’s pure terror; there was someone there. Someone just staring at her, watching her sleep.

 

She jerked up in panic, desperate for light. She felt encompassed by the night, certain someone was there and horribly afraid that she would discover that she was right.

 

She wasn’t alone; there was someone with her, watching her in silence.

 

She jumped out of the bed and stumbled to the light switch by the wall. Her room was instantly bathed in a glow, and she flung around in terror, searching out every corner of the room.

 

The edge of her fear began to fade away. She gave herself a shake. She was alone. It had been her imagination, the paranoia that was growing within her—even while she insisted she wasn’t afraid of the house. The bathroom!

 

She strode to it with long, angry footsteps. She had to see if someone was there. Better to face whomever or whatever it was!

 

But the bathroom was empty.

 

She shuddered and then laughed aloud at herself.

 

She wasn’t even alone in the house. Avery was somewhere napping, poking through the oddities or reading and sipping a cup of tea.

 

She walked back and checked her door; it was still locked.

 

She shook her head, smiling at her own foolishness, and opened the door to the hallway. The entire house was dark.

 

With the glow from her room guiding her, she walked along the hallway and turned on the overhead light.

 

“Avery?” she said her friend’s name softly and decided he had to be in one of the rooms upstairs, sleeping. She backtracked. He would have chosen the guest room just a few doors down from her own. She opened the door quietly and saw that Avery was indeed there, snoring softly.

 

“Ah, yes, gorgeous, but you do snore!” she whispered affectionately. She closed the door again, letting him sleep. It couldn’t be very late; Liam would have been back. She glanced at her watch. It was just seven.

 

A two-hour nap had been good. She had slept off the effects of the Guinness and felt alert and decent. When Liam returned, she’d find out if they would just cook in or take Avery out to a good Key West seafood restaurant. Avery ate just about everything, but he loved fish.

 

She headed toward the stairway.

 

Then she froze.

 

The upstairs hall light wasn’t enough to clearly illuminate the grand parlor below.

 

The parlor with its mounted heads, gargoyle, mummy, coffin and more.

 

Between two neat stacks of boxes and crates, near the authentic voodoo altar and fireplace, there was a shadow, dark against gray, swirling and moving in the night.

 

She stared in pure open-mouthed terror as the thing rose and waved, wafted, disappeared and returned.