“Sure,” Katie agreed.
Dusk was coming, and it was beautiful out. The colors of the sky were pastels, except where the sun sank in the west in a fiery ball that shot out streamers of gold.
When they came around the house, the docks, the trees—even the mangrove area where Gary White’s body had been found seemed mysterious and beautiful.
Katie and Kelsey walked down the dock. Bartholomew remained on shore, arms crossed, as if he guarded the dock.
“I don’t see Captain Morgan,” Kelsey said.
“I don’t, either,” Katie agreed.
Just as they spoke, water and air spurted from the surface just below them at the right edge of the dock. Kelsey went down on her knees.
The dolphin was there. He looked at her with dark eyes that gave away nothing.
“Captain Morgan, my friend. You are a marvelous creature. My friend thinks that you saved his life, and I hear it’s quite possible. Thank you,” Kelsey said.
“Hi, there, big fellow,” Katie said, hunkering down by her.
The dolphin let out shrill squeaking noises, and backed away, flapping its flippers.
“I think he’s answering us,” Katie said.
“Maybe. He does work with humans,” Kelsey said.
“It’s getting dark soon,” Bartholomew snapped from the beach end of the dock. “Let’s go.”
“Good night, Captain Morgan!” Kelsey called, and she and Katie turned and walked toward Bar tholomew.
As they started around the house to the road off the peninsula, Kelsey’s phone started to ring. She saw that it said Private Number, and she ignored it.
They had reached Front Street when her phone rang again. She was certain it was going to say Private Number.
It didn’t. It had a local phone exchange, 305.
She answered.
She heard breathing, laughter and the throaty whisper.
“Don’t get wet, Kelsey. Remember, I’m watching you.”
She didn’t have a chance to reply.
The line went dead.
Liam headed from Stock Island back to the station. The sketch artist was going to scan his drawing into his computer that night, and tomorrow they could play with the image, taking away hair, trying to remove anything that might have been costume or artificial.
Checking on the fingerprints, he found out that there was only one set on the magic box with the floating silk forms Kelsey had given him.
The prints were hers. They were in the system because her parents had believed in fingerprinting children, should they tragically be kidnapped or find themselves lost.
“It was wiped clean,” the tech told Liam. “There are smudges, so I know that it was wiped down, and wiped well. If someone is pulling apart that house when no one knows it, that someone is wearing gloves.”
Liam wasn’t surprised.
He left the station, eager then to meet Jaden, Ted, Katie and Kelsey. He was anxious to see the book.
When he walked in, O’Hara’s was quiet. He didn’t see the others at first; Jamie was behind the bar, and he directed Liam out to the back patio.
Clarinda was there, working her evening shift as a server. She was seated with the others, taking a break, so it seemed.
Jonas wasn’t with her, he noted.
“Hey, all,” he said.
“Hey!” Kelsey said, rising to greet him.
He wanted to reach for her, enclose her in his arms and just hold on to her. He hated being away from her, and it hadn’t even been a full night.
He kissed her lightly on the lips, longing to linger and bask in the scent of her skin and her hair but aware of their audience. He crawled onto the bench by her side.
Bartholomew was there, seated at the far end of the table. Through some of the foliage, he had a view of Duval Street. He seemed to be brooding.
And watching.
“Voilà!” Jaden said, producing a copy of the book. “Key West, Satanism, Peter Edwards, and the Abel and Aleister Crowley Connection!”
He took it from her. “Thank you, Jaden. Have you looked at it?” he asked her.
She nodded. “Well, yes, sorry, of course. Page two hundred twenty. You’ll love it.”
“Read it aloud,” Kelsey told him. “We just got here. We haven’t had a chance to get into it yet.”