Bone Island 03 - Ghost Moon (18 page)

Read Bone Island 03 - Ghost Moon Online

Authors: Heather Graham

Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Paranormal Fiction, #Suspense, #Spirits, #Ghost, #Man-Woman Relationships, #Key West (Fla.), #Paranormal, #Romance, #Paranormal Romance Stories, #Suspense Fiction, #Antiquities - Collection and Preservation, #Supernatural, #Horror Fiction, #Collectors and Collecting

BOOK: Bone Island 03 - Ghost Moon
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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.

It seemed like a massive black swatch of evil, taunting and teasing her.

It was malignant; it was the darkness that lived in the house, that came out and killed.

She wanted to scream; the sound choked in her throat. She wanted to turn and flee down the hallway and waken Avery, but she couldn’t.

Rising, falling, rising, falling…

And there was a sound. Like a growl on the air, a whir, a laugh. Oh, God, yes, a soft laughing sound that mocked her.

She blinked.

It didn’t go away.

She worked her throat.

And then, somehow, she found the light switch for the stairway, and the switch that brought the parlor alive with a brilliant glow.

And it was still there, sleek and black, and moving…!

Turn! Scream!

She did neither. She was so frozen, she stared at it. And then, as she did so, she realized that it was doing the same thing, over and over again. And she wasn’t hearing a growl, a laugh, a whisper or any such thing. It was a
whir,
like the sound of a motor.

“What the hell?” she demanded, speaking aloud.

Angrily she walked down the stairs, straight toward the boxes. The closer she came, the more evident it was that she was seeing some kind of a magician’s trick.

When she reached the ground level and the boxes,
crates and voodoo altar, she almost laughed aloud at herself.

One of the large crates was open. The evil, black, malignant shadow was nothing but a silky cloth, and it was springing up from a motorized board that sat in the open crate.

“Cutter!” she said, shaking her head. “Great trick! You almost gave your granddaughter a heart attack, you dear old geezer!”

She caught the flying material and twisted it around enough to see that it was controlled by wires, and the wires were controlled by a motor within the box and a simple switch turned it off. Something must have triggered it to start.

She heard her cell phone ringing from a distance, and she tried to remember where it was. In her purse, up the stairs, in her room. She hurried back up the stairs.

“Hello?” She caught it when it rang again for the second time.

“Kelsey!” It was Liam.

“Yes!”

“Oh, my God, you had me so worried. Are you all right?”

“I’m fine, thanks, Liam. I’d fallen asleep. Avery is napping, too.”

“Why are you so breathless?”

“I was downstairs, and I left the phone upstairs.”

“Oh.” He sounded relieved. However, she must have sounded strange.

“Then what’s wrong?”

“Oh, I just gave myself a scare,” she said.

“How? You weren’t outside, in the secured area, were you?”

“No, no, of course not.”

“What happened?”

She laughed. “I really have to go through Cutter’s boxes. He’s got some magic tricks in them. He has something like a magician’s gig—black sheets that shoot up out of a crate.”

“What?”

“It’s all right, it’s all right, really. It’s a mechanized magician’s trick, that’s all. Where are you?” She tried to be casual. “I was just wondering if you wanted to stay and hang here and get started on something, or if you’d like dinner out.”

She thought that he hesitated a minute. “I’ll be right there,” he said. “Then we’ll decide, if that’s all right. But don’t do anything until I get there, okay? It’s locked up tight, right?”

She laughed. “Yes, sir, it’s locked up tight. Honestly. We came home, took naps and haven’t been out. I swear.”

“I’ll be right there.”

He hung up.

The house seemed too silent. Kelsey wanted to start reading the book her grandfather had been holding when he died, so she took it from the bedside table where she’d decided to keep it. She found her iPod and went downstairs. She turned on every light, brewed herself a cup of tea and walked past the crates with the magic trick toward Cutter’s office.

She felt uneasy. She had spent so much time working
in the house. She didn’t remember seeing the open crate, or the magic trick. She set the tea and the book down, went back and opened the crate again.

She was perplexed. Magic tricks weren’t Cutter’s interest. The voodoo altar had been a piece of history—it had been taken from an old home just outside the French Quarter in New Orleans, and Cutter had purchased it from the new owner, who intended a redo of the entire place. He had been a businessman, uninterested in voodoo.

The mummy…Egyptian history. The coffin, a beautiful piece of Victorian funerary art. He had never, in her memory, purchased a cheap magician’s trick. Then again, she hadn’t really begun to go through his ledgers yet.

For some reason, the book seemed more important.

She went into Cutter’s library and took a seat behind his desk. Even with every light in the house on, she was surprised to still feel uncomfortable. Looking around, she found herself believing that something was just slightly out of place.

As if someone had been there.

But no one had been in the house.

Or had they?

Had someone gotten in somehow, set up the magic trick to scare her and moved things around in Cutter’s study?

She stood up uneasily. She heard the brass knocker at the door, and she jumped. She laughed nervously when she realized that Liam had arrived. She checked that it was him through the peephole and let him in.

He clutched her shoulders and looked into her eyes. “You’re all right—really all right?” he asked her.

She smiled. “Yes, of course. Liam, I have an odd request.”

“Oh?”

“Is it possible to dust that magic box for fingerprints?”

He arched his brows. “Yes. Why? You don’t think that someone was in here, do you?”

“I don’t see how anyone could have been in here. The place was rekeyed. We’ve bolted all the windows, and the doors have been locked,” she said. “I don’t know, I guess it’s bizarre, but…”

He didn’t act as if she was getting paranoid or losing her grip on reality. She wasn’t sure that made her feel better.

“Avery is with you, right?” he asked.

She smiled. “Yes. He’s napping upstairs. I guess we should wake him, or he’ll never sleep tonight.”

“Maybe he wants to do the town tonight,” Liam suggested.

“Maybe,” she said with a shrug. “I was about to start reading the book.
In Defense from Dark Magick.
I thought it might give me an insight into Cutter’s state of mind.”

“It might.” He frowned. “By the way, where’s the shotgun he was holding? It was left by the fireplace when his body was taken.”

She frowned. “I believe someone must have moved it the other day, when we were cleaning. I don’t actually remember seeing it.”

“Hmm. I’m thinking we should find it. You read—I’ll start looking for it,” he said.

“Read? Doesn’t anyone ever think about eating around here?” Avery asked suddenly. They looked to the top of the stairs. He was standing there, grinning down at them. She felt a moment’s discomfort, seeing him there and remembering her mother’s fall.

“Come down here, now,” she said.

He frowned at her tone, but obliged.

“Of course we eat,” Liam assured him. “We’ll head out to Duval Street. There’s a nice little place that isn’t too touristy right off of Front Street.”

“Lovely,” Avery agreed.

Liam looked at Kelsey. “We’re meeting Jaden and Ted,” he told her.

“Oh, how nice,” she replied.

“Ten minutes? I’m going to hop in the shower,” he said.

“Very clean,” she teased.

He hesitated. “I’ve been back at the morgue,” he said.

“Oh, of course,” she said. “Oh, Liam, I feel horrible. What did you find out?”

“Gary White was murdered. Someone pricked him in the heart, and he bled out internally.”

Kelsey gasped. “How horrible!”

“When?” Avery asked.

Liam shook his head. “Days ago, maybe a week. Valaski can’t really tell. The body was too compromised.”

“But…shouldn’t bugs tell him…or…larvae or…”

“No. He was probably underwater at first. But he
was murdered, and he was murdered here, on this property.”

“Kelsey, you’ve got to leave now. Come back to California!” Avery insisted.

She felt numb, uncertain. There were so many possibilities. She’d been scared. Very scared. But Avery was here now, and when Liam was working, she wouldn’t be alone.

It was possible that this man’s death had to do with drugs or a heist gone wrong; he had broken into her house. He had lived in a world where bad things happened.

Or…

There was also the possibility that someone was trying to scare her out of her grandfather’s house. That someone might have done something to hurt Cutter.

She didn’t want to be scared away.

“Avery, you’re here now, and Liam is here every night,” she said.

“Oh,” Avery said, looking at the two of them.

She looked at Liam. “I don’t want to be scared out of here. I want to know what happened. I want to have answers. I need to be here—I haven’t begun working on his collection. Let’s go to dinner. Is there a reason we’re meeting Jaden and Ted?” she asked.

“Yes,” Liam said. “Jaden thinks she’s found out something about the little gold reliquary box that Cutter was holding when he died.”

 

One of the nicest things about the people in Key West was that they were quickly accepting of friends of friends.

Ted and Jaden greeted Kelsey as if she’d never gone away, and greeted Avery warmly, even though they had only met him that day.

Once they were all seated, before they ordered drinks, Liam asked, “All right, come on. Give. What have you discovered?”

Jaden reached into her bag for a book. For a moment, Liam thought that she was going to produce the book that was missing from the library, but she did not. She brought out a large hardcover book on reliquaries of the fourteen hundreds.

“Wow. It’s that old?” Kelsey asked.

“Yes and no,” Jaden said.

“What do you mean?” Liam asked her.

“Well!” Jaden said, leaning closer. “I found the exact reliquary. I’ll show you!” She opened the book. There was a painting done by an obscure artist from the time period. It showed a man in a monk’s robe holding what looked to be the same reliquary.

“So it is that old?” Kelsey said, puzzled.

“The reliquary first held a fragment of a charred piece of bone obtained after Joan of Arc’s death. The little gold ball that held the saint’s relic inside the box was designed by the monk in the picture, Brother Antoine. He also designed the little casket, or box, that holds the gold ball.”

“So, it was considered an especially holy item,” Kelsey said. “If my grandfather had such an object, I honestly believe he would have wanted to return it to the Catholic Church.”

“Maybe. There’s more to the story, which perhaps Cutter Merlin knew—and then again, maybe he didn’t,” Ted said, nodding sagely.

“Was such a relic supposed to ward off evil?” Liam asked.

“Joan of Arc became an incredibly honored saint, so of course,” Jaden said. “She was a victim of betrayal after serving king and country, and it was said that the fires for her burning were set before sentence was pronounced on her. She recanted her pleas, but in the end was true to herself, her God and her voices. In the fire, she was heard to call out to Jesus many times, and those in the crowd were brought to pity. It was in the market place in Rouen, and when she was dead it was recorded that her ashes were spread in the Seine. Naturally, there were holy men and women who sought a piece of such a famous or infamous woman—there were many such beliefs. The severed fingers of dead men were believed to hold different magical properties depending on whether the deceased had been a murderer, a thief—or a saint. Any relic with an historical claim to holding so much as an ash from Joan of Arc would be highly esteemed.”

“That’s why Cutter was holding it, surely,” Avery told Kelsey. He patted her hand.

Kelsey was staring at Jaden, and Jaden looked as if she were about to burst. But she held silent as a waitress came to take their drink order and ask about appetizers.

Kelsey looked at them all and then at the waitress, asking if they could give her the entire order. It was
obvious Kelsey was trying to be polite but was far too anxious for many interruptions.

Their puzzled waitress agreed and discreetly moved on.

“Jaden, spit it out!” Kelsey begged. “What else are you trying to say? Cutter was using it in some kind of a spell against evil? That’s why he held the book, too,
In Defense from Dark Magic
?”

“We need the next book,” Jaden said. She reached into her bag and pulled out another. It was titled
Nazi Treasures Secreted from Germany.

“Okay, so the Nazis stole the relic from the monks?” Kelsey asked.

Jaden nodded. “The relic was at a church in Rouen, in the center of the altar. It was taken—not for holy purposes, but for the gold. The relic was secondary—the gold was what they valued.”

Kelsey sat back, puzzled. “I’m lost. Cutter was sitting in the house, the book, the relic and a shotgun on his lap. We’re assuming he was frightened by something or someone. But if the person who had frightened him so badly was there, wouldn’t he have taken the relic?”

“If there was someone there, he might have tried to take the relic,” Jaden said.

Liam spoke up. “All right, wait. He was dead quite a while before I found him. If someone had been there to steal the relic, that person had plenty of time to take it.”

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