At the Sea Horse, the manager greeted Liam and Brodie. Bev and Dan were out; they were at the reception for Cliff, of course. Miss Firestone was expecting them, and they were to go right to her room.
“First room on the pool level,” they were told.
“Yes, thank you,” Liam said. “It’s the same room Mr. Ferrer had. I’ve been in it.”
The bed-and-breakfast consisted of the main house—another of the old Victorian two-story homes on the island—and a string of rooms that were all pool-front stretching out on either side of the main house. In the fifties, apparently, a young entrepreneur had bought up the warehouse structures next to the house, ripped them down, and put in the “motel” type rooms.
“This was nice of Bev and Dan,” Liam said as they headed around to the left extension. “They’re usually full—before anyone else—because they have great free parking just on the other side of the rooms. They held the room. We never even collected Ferrer’s things—after our crime scene people went through it—because we reached Adelaide before we did so. They were kind to keep the room for her—with all of his belongings.”
“Bev did seem to like him very much,” Brodie agreed. “And sometimes, people are just nice.”
“They can be,” Liam agreed. “Too bad some are also murdering assholes.”
“Well, now, there’s a piece of truth,” Brodie agreed.
A woman opened the door to the room before they could knock. She was a slim brunette with warm brown eyes and freckles, wearing cutoff shorts and a T-shirt.
“Detective Beckett?” she asked.
“I am,” Liam said, and he introduced Brodie.
She shook their hands. “I’m Adelaide. And I...”
Brodie was nearest, and so he wound up holding her for the spasm of tears that came until she gained control again.
“Sorry! I’m so sorry.”
“Please, don’t be. You loved him.”
She nodded. “I did. He was such a good man, and such an amazing father. That’s been the hardest, making Haley realize that her daddy can’t come and play with her anymore. She’s just five. And Arnie didn’t have any relatives...no one. The good thing is that she does love the man I’m dating now—Arnie even introduced us, do you believe that?”
“Is your daughter with you?” Liam asked her.
She shook her head. “No, no. I was waiting for my mother to come and watch her...that’s what took me so long to get here. Please, come on in.”
The room was a good size, offering a king bed in the middle, and a mini kitchen off a small hallway to the bath. There was also a sofa bed by the window, and a desk with a chair.
“Sit, please,” Adelaide offered, indicating the sofa. She perched at the foot of the bed. “I don’t know how I can help you, but I will do anything that I can.”
“Mr. Ferrer talked to you before coming down here, right?” Liam asked her.
“Of course! We had the best shared parenting you can imagine. Go figure, right? I have the nicest guy who trips over himself to accommodate me while still being an active parent and...this. This happens. I have friends who have had wretched divorces, and their exes are alive and kicking and mean. I guess that’s life. And death.”
She kept trying not to cry. A closet door was open; Brodie could see that a man’s clothing was still hanging there. She hadn’t begun to pack up yet.
“Did he talk to you about what he was doing?” Brodie asked.
She nodded. “He planned on seeing a Mr. Keegan, head diver and in charge of the expedition for the Victoria Elizabeth. And he’d corresponded with Miss McCoy, who was going to do an exhibit on the exploration, the discovery—and the history of the ship. He thought his documents were really the most important for her. She would be displaying them. But then again, he didn’t know if anything he had would be useful to the Sea Life crew. He had plans of the ship, building designs—and the proposed ‘storage’ of the ‘cargo.’ It really bothered him; he was such a humanitarian. He fought for human rights. And it was so important to him that people see what was done.”
“Yes, we do know that,” Liam said softly. “Did you talk to him once he got here?”
“Of course—we talked to each other any time we were traveling. When he left on a trip, he let me know when he was on a plane—and when he landed. I did the same for him. It’s nice, knowing that someone cares that you get somewhere safely.” She swallowed. “He came in at night and called me because he just loved this place—said he loved the couple who run the place, Bev and Dan. I think they own it. He had never stayed anywhere like this before, where it was like visiting family, where everyone was really nice, where they talked to you...”
“Bev was very quickly fond of Arnold Ferrer,” Brodie acknowledged.
She nodded. “That’s it—to know him was to love him. This makes no sense to me. No sense whatsoever. I mean...it couldn’t have been random violence, right? You don’t kill a man and stuff him down into a ship in a hundred feet of water, right, just randomly?”
“No, we certainly don’t believe that it was any kind of a random act,” Liam said. “As far as you know, was Arnold talking to anyone else?”
“I’ve gone over this in my head a million times,” Adelaide said. “He called when he landed, and he called the next morning, telling me how great the B and B was—which I understand. It was so sweet of them to just keep this room until I could get here. When I walked in, though, it took a minute. It was almost as if Arnie would appear...but...”
“Adelaide,” Brodie prodded, “did he talk to you about anyone else?”
“That night,” she whispered. “He was here the one night, woke up and called. And then, later in the day, he called again. He was so happy! He said that he was hurrying out—he had a meeting. He was very excited. He said that people wanted to be helpful—in fact, he said that ‘people were coming out of the woodwork’ to be helpful.”
“What people?” Liam asked.
She shook head sadly. “I don’t know... But I had a feeling that the meeting had just popped up—he wasn’t seeing Ewan until the next day, and then he wasn’t going see Miss McCoy until the day after. If only he’d spoken to me more plainly...if only I had been more curious.”
“Do you think that he had an early meeting with someone he was planning to see?” Liam asked.
“Or someone new? Someone who ‘came out of the woodwork’?” Brodie asked.
She shook her head miserably. “I have no idea. Haley was running around when I was talking to him, and I went to see what she was up to in the kitchen. I just said great—have a wonderful time and tell me about it all later!”
“Don’t feel bad, please,” Liam told her.
“Even if he’d given you a name, it most probably would have been something made up,” Brodie told her.
As he spoke, he noticed a guitar against the wall near the closet; it was halfway covered with a jacket.
“He brought his guitar,” he murmured.
Adelaide’s eyes widened. “Oh, yes. He loved playing—and he was very good. I’d always promised him that he could take Haley to lessons when she was a bit older. Now I’ll be the one doing it. But she will play, and if she plays like he does...”
Brodie got up and wandered over to the guitar.
Since Ferrer’s death, another musician had drowned. He hadn’t seen bruises on her body—as if she’d been held down. But then, maybe the bruises would appear by the time of the autopsy.
And again, maybe she hadn’t been forced into the water—maybe she’d been pushed in. And at such a distance from the shore that she wouldn’t have had a prayer of making it in, unless she was an incredible swimmer.
“Please, you can pick it up—the police finished with this room. They have all of Arnie’s documents at the station and they’ve looked through everything else.”
Brodie lifted the guitar. He played a little. He’d never be considered much of a musician, but he did love the instrument.
“A Fender,” he said.
“He traveled with that guitar—yes, his Fender. He had others, one that had belonged to a famous guitar player, and I can’t remember which. He took very good care of his instruments.”
Brodie hit a few chords. It was perfectly in tune. Even the man’s travel guitar was a good guitar.
He set it down and turned back to Adelaide and Liam. “Do you have pictures of your little girl? And of Arnie?”
“Oh, of course! In this digital age?” Adelaide asked.
He smiled. “Of course.”
She pulled out her cell phone—a nice big one—and touched the screen to bring up her gallery of pictures. Liam and Brodie came to stand by her. “There’s Arnie, holding Haley at a toddler’s gym, and there he is with her at the fair... Oh, and there he’s playing with friends at his service club. And here...well, that was the two of us about seven years ago...”
It was a nice picture. They’d taken a “photo op” at Walt Disney World. A castle rose high behind them, along with shooting fireworks. They were arm in arm, Adelaide looked lovely in a cool white halter dress, and Arnie handsome in Mickey Mouse T-shirt and black jeans.
“Mind if I keep going?” Brodie asked her.
“Not at all!”
One picture had Arnie in front of a giant stage.
“Where was this?” Brodie asked.
“Oh, the arena. One of his favorite old ’80s bands was playing and he knew one guy in the group and—it was amazing—they let him come up and play,” Adelaide said.
“You don’t know what group?” Liam asked her.
She shook her head. “It was right before we met, actually. I saw the pic on one of his social media pages and just loved it. I downloaded it to my own page, and I keep it... I keep it in with these. Oh, I’m not trying to come off as if I weren’t traumatized when I realized I was in love with a man who did love me—but had no interest in me sexually. I had to wrestle with my own demons, but his were so much worse. It was good then that he didn’t have any family left—he said that his father was one of the homophobic men who would have rather seen him...dead than gay,” she added in a whisper. Then she grew angry. “What a foolish man! I wonder how much of his son’s real love he lost before he died.”
“Well, hopefully, we’ve reached an age where we’re learning not to be so foolish,” Liam said. He sat across from her again. “Miss Firestone—”
“Adelaide.”
“Adelaide, please. I need you to keep thinking. I know that you’ve been thinking of little else since you received word about Arnold, but... You’ve already given us so much today. No matter how small you think it is, we need to know.”
“Definitely. I’ll be here a few days. I’ve spoken to the medical examiner—he said he can release Arnie to the funeral home as soon as I’ve made arrangements. I’m going to have him embalmed down here, and then take him home. I’m putting him with my family—we go back forever in Georgia, and we’re just out of the city of Atlanta and have a beautiful and peaceful graveyard... Anyway, I’ll be here another few days. In fact, I’ll check with you before I leave. Calling well before the plane.”
“Thank you,” Liam told her.
They both headed to the door of her room.
“Hey. Can you tell me some things to do on the island? I should have gotten a book. I just—wasn’t thinking.”
“Of course,” Liam said. “The little aquarium, the Conch Tour train. The Mel Fisher Museum, a walking tour, Ripley’s.”
“And we have a friend who owns a museum. It was just opened,” Brodie said.
“Haunts and History,” she said. “That’s where Arnie was going to donate his documents.”
“Right,” Liam said.
“Thank you for reminding me. I wouldn’t want to leave without going there—without seeing her, meeting her.”
She studied Brodie for a long minute. “You’re not a detective,” she said. “But you were introduced to me by Detective Beckett as a private eye. Who are you working for?”
Brodie took a deep breath. “I found Arnold Ferrer, Adelaide. I’m working for him,” he said softly.
She smiled. Tears sprang into her eyes again. “Thank you.”
* * *
It was a strange day, indeed. A funeral, a dead woman, and Cliff...incredibly capable of appearing to others, but only managing to give a shivery chill to the woman he loved.
They were almost down to the last of the mourners at the reception.
“Colleen,” Kody said, “you’re more than welcome to come to my house for a while, too. Kelsey and I will just be...there.”
“I’d love to come to your place for a bit,” Colleen said. “You don’t need to go with Rosy, or do you? I think more than one or two people will be too much for her after today, but you may be the one person she wants.”
“I’ll ask, but I think we’re good,” Kody said.
Kody walked over to check.
“Are you doing okay?” she asked Rosy.
Rosy nodded. “I’m good. Sonny is going to be staying with me.”
Sonny smiled at Kody. “I don’t have a house down here anyway. Actually, I never need to have a house when I’m here—I have so many good friends.” She squeezed Rosy’s shoulder.
“We’ll see them safely tucked in,” Emory said. “Bill and me, we’ll walk them home.”
“Good night, then,” Kody said.
She started away from the table. Rosy called her back. “Kody?”
“Yes?”
“Thank you again. I mean, the McCoy tomb is really one of the finest in the cemetery. I especially love the guardian angels at the entry. But mostly, whatever the next step might be, I’m grateful that Cliff is lying next to your dad.”
“My dad would like that, too, Rosy. He always loved having his real friends around.”
Kelsey and Colleen had already risen as well and were waiting their turns to give Rosy their sympathy and best wishes again.
“We’ll be getting all kinds of pictures up and information about Cliff,” Colleen said. “He’ll be in the display for famous men and women of Key West! I know that Kody will have him up, and we’ll have his songs right along with Jimmy Buffett, her dad, and the rest!” She flushed suddenly. “I mean, I know Kody will, and I’ll help her every step of the way.”
“Thank you,” Rosy said. She glanced at Kody, maybe a little amused. Colleen had been coming into her own; the last time Rosy had stopped by the museum, Colleen had been shy and awkward and almost afraid to speak with her.
“Oh, and I love your artwork, too!” Colleen said.
Again, Rosy thanked her.
Kelsey gave Rosy a kiss and a hug and bid the others good-night. Then, the three of them left. Kody felt a little badly—maybe she should have stayed until Rosy and her crew had left, until the very end. But Rosy was in good hands.
In a way, it was a bit tricky that Colleen had chosen to come with them; alone, Kody could have said just about anything to Kelsey. She wanted to be careful around Colleen. Still, she thought it was important that Colleen knew that she wasn’t alone in the world, and that she did have friends. She was glad that Colleen had been getting out. But that wasn’t the same as being with steady friends who lived near her.
When they reached her place, Kody brought Kelsey and Colleen into her living room and parlor. There had been food and drinks all day, but it seemed the natural thing to offer coffee and tea.
Kody went about fixing the drinks. She had a box of shortbread and decided that she would set them out, too.
When she carried the little tray holding all out to the living room, she was surprised to see Kelsey looking a little pained—and Colleen leaning toward her as if she had just divulged a great secret.
“Um...drinks,” Kody said, looking at Kelsey.
Kelsey cleared her throat. “Colleen was just telling me that she is certain that Cliff Bullard is still with us.”
“Oh?” Kody said, looking at Colleen.
Colleen nodded solemnly.
“You’ve—seen his ghost?” she asked.
Colleen shook her head, and then frowned. “No, you remember the dream I told you about? Somehow, today, I started thinking that the man in my dream was Cliff.”
“I see,” Kody murmured.
“And I sense...something,” Colleen said.
“Well, if he is a ghost, he’s a good one,” Kody said.
Colleen remained solemn.
“I think I know why he’s still here,” Colleen said.
“You do? And why?”
She waited to hear Colleen declare that she believed Cliff had been murdered.
“He’s here because he loved his Rosy so much. And he’s here...like an angel. Just to help poor girls like me, helping out.”
“A flirty ghost,” Kody murmured.
“Oh, no! An angel of a ghost!” Colleen said.
As she spoke, the “angel of a ghost” joined them, walking through the doorway from the hall as if he were alive and well and solid flesh.
Colleen put her hand to her heart. “He’s here! I think he’s here. And I will love him forever!”
“Bravo,” Cliff said. He beamed at Kelsey and Kody.
Then his smile faded, his expression lost and hopeless.
“I wish... I wish that’s why I was here. But...I know now. I don’t know for certain. But I’m starting to think I might even know exactly who murdered me.”