“Hannah called me immediately,” Liam said, frowning. “And, I assure you, it’s the first time she’s ever called me about a body.”
“Of course,” Dallas said. “Sorry. So, you knew he was here because—” he paused, looking at Liam “—because he was in your yard—and still alive—last night?” He realized the implication that she might have saved him was in his voice. He hadn’t meant it to be, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t true.
He looked around and noticed that there was a lot of confusion at the scene. A couple of uniformed officers had been first on the scene, followed by Liam—and he’d been right behind. Now techs were dusting and setting out numbers by everything they found, and looking for evidence, and the medical examiner was with the body. She had touched the body, trying to see what she could do for him before realizing he was dead. If she’d been a screaming basket case, he would probably be having an easier time dealing with her. But though she was calm now, she had been screaming when she’d dialed 911. The uniformed officers had probably arrived within seconds—they were just down the street from Duval, because the department always patrolled the bar and club scene there, no matter how late—or early—that was.
“I never saw him in my yard. Two of my guests—former guests—saw him. But they didn’t realize he was real. They thought they were seeing a ghost.”
The young woman—Liam had introduced her as Hannah O’Brien—seemed to be growing aggravated with him. He didn’t really blame her. He was usually a lot better at a crime scene.
“They thought a real man—mortally injured and bleeding—was a ghost?” Dallas demanded.
“Yes.”
“How the hell...?” he muttered.
“I can’t read their minds,” she said sharply. There was something almost regal about her. Maybe that was what bugged him. It compelled him, and that irritated him. He took a breath and tried to regain a professional calm.
“All right. Can you start at the beginning for me?” he asked.
“I was sound asleep. I heard a scream and came running downstairs—they were in back of the house by the pool. I looked out and saw two of my guests. One of them was insisting she’d seen a ghost in my yard,” Hannah explained. “She—her name’s Shelly Nicholson—had been on my ghost tour. She and her boyfriend, Stuart Bell, were absolutely convinced they’d seen a homicidal ghost. But there was nothing there.
“I tried to calm them down. I told them...I told them that ghosts weren’t real, and even if they were, it wasn’t likely they’d be able to kill anyone. I got them to quit screaming and talk it through. Nothing budged them. They insisted they’d seen a bloody ghost holding a bowie knife. By then, everyone in the place was out there and freaking out. So I got everyone checked out and sent them down to the Westin, and then, when it was light, came back out to look around.” She hesitated for a long moment, glancing at Liam. “I don’t even know of any Key West ghosts that supposedly run around bleeding and carrying a bowie knife.” She stopped, struck by the thought that the man on the ground was now eligible to be a Key West ghost legend.
“A bowie knife?” Dallas demanded.
She nodded. “That’s what Stuart said. He was one of the people who saw the...ghost.”
“How did he know it was a bowie knife?” Dallas demanded.
“How do I know? Maybe he saw The Alamo a zillion times!” she snapped back, her irritation showing.
“He doesn’t have a knife now,” Dallas pointed out.
“No. He wasn’t holding it when I found him,” she said. “I looked around, and I didn’t see a knife anywhere. But if you looked at his hand...”
“Yes,” Dallas said. “It does look as if he’d been holding something. You touched the body. Are you sure you didn’t move his hand? Even by accident?”
“No, I definitely didn’t move his hand. I was kneeling on his other side, and I was still there when Officer Mann got here and told me to move away carefully so I didn’t contaminate the crime scene. I did not touch his hand.”
Dirk Mendini, the medical examiner down from the coroner’s office in Marathon, rose and walked over to them just then. He indicated his wish to speak with the detectives by angling his head.
“Excuse us, Hannah, will you?” Liam asked gently.
She nodded. “Okay if I go inside and clean up?” she asked.
She had the dead man’s blood on her, and Dallas found himself wondering if she was compassionate or just stupid. She’d heard the man had been wielding a bowie knife, but still she’d approached him before she was sure he was dead and not a threat.
He realized he was feeling bitter toward her, and he knew he was wrong. He wanted to blame her for the death, even though he knew he had no right to do so. He was frustrated and wanted to lash out, but he had to get himself under control.
Apparently he took too long to speak that time.