The Vision
“Now you’re seriously scaring me. What are you talking about?”
“It seemed as if her…her ghost left her where she was weighted down. And led me—pointing exactly to the place where I should look.”
Bethany just stared at her.
“Did Thor see her?”
“No.”
“Gen…”
“It’s the honest to God truth.”
“You saw the woman again? A dead woman. Then her…ghost pointed out the exact spot where you found the coin.”
“Exactly.”
Bethany just stared at her again.
“Say something.”
“Oh, God, what do you want me to say?”
“That you believe me!”
“Uh…”
“Oh, never mind. Just don’t repeat anything I’ve said. He’d have me locked up.”
“Who?”
“You know who. Thor Thompson.”
“Oh, Gen, I don’t think—”
“He’d manage to get me thrown off the dive, I guarantee you.”
Bethany walked over to her, setting a hand on her arm. “I think you’re right. I think…I think you’d better not talk about any of this.”
“I swear to you, everything I’m saying is true.”
“True in your own mind,” Bethany whispered gently.
“I saw her. I promise you, what I saw was real.”
“But Thor…?”
“No, you’re right. Thor didn’t see her.”
“And today you weren’t…scared?” Bethany asked.
“No. Yes. I was terrified at first. And then I had to pretend I wasn’t seeing anything.”
“I’m confused. The first day you nearly choked and drowned, it shook you up so much. And then…today…it’s become your friend?”
“I don’t exactly know. Maybe today I gave her a chance because I was more afraid of Thor than I was of seeing a ghost. Bethany, I know this will sound strange, but I think she wants us to find the ship.”
“Great,” Bethany murmured. “I want us to find the ship, too.” She stared at Genevieve anxiously. “So this is…”
“I guess.”
Genevieve hesitated. She was still afraid. And not just of what had happened in the water.
She was afraid of what had happened this morning.
Waking up soaking wet, wearing seaweed.
“I’m going to slip out during dinner and see Jay Gonzalez.”
Bethany sighed. “Oh, good move. Like Jay doesn’t think you’re crazy, too. You talked to him, remember? He wanted to help. He couldn’t find anything.”
“He can try again. Some poor woman is snatched somewhere every week, maybe every day. And there are always runaways who end up dead and unidentified,” Genevieve reminded Bethany.
“Genevieve…if you’re seeing a body, a…ghost who seems to want to help you find a lost ship, don’t you think the ghost should be someone from that era? I don’t believe this. We’re talking about a ghost. As if it’s…real.”
“She is real,” Genevieve said, wincing. “I swear, Bethany. I don’t think Thor Thompson would admit to seeing a ghost—even to himself—if one smacked him in the head. I don’t understand what’s going on, and why I should be seeing this…her, but I am. And it…it has to mean something.”
“Actually, I know who you should see,” Bethany murmured.
“Who?”
“Audrey Lynley,” Bethany said.
“Audrey? The We-went-to-school-with-her Audrey Lynley?” Genevieve said. It was her opportunity to stare at Bethany as if she were completely mad.
“Yes,” Bethany said firmly.
Genevieve shook her head. “Oh, come on, Bethany. She doesn’t even pretend that anything she does is real.”
“Excuse me, but aren’t you the one telling me you’re seeing a ghost?” Bethany demanded belligerently.
“She reads palms, Bethany. Or she pretends to read palms. And she does tarot cards. I think she even has a crystal ball and pretends to see the future in it sometimes.”
“You’re acting as if you don’t like her,” Bethany said.
“I like her fine—mainly because she uses her act for tourists and she entertains them—she doesn’t pretend she really has any answers.”
“What could it hurt to talk to her?”
Genevieve sighed. “If it got back to the guys that I was talking to her…”
“Hey, she’s an old friend. There’s no law against talking to old friends.”
Genevieve shrugged and started to speak but broke off when she heard a voice calling them from outside her front door. “Hey, in there!” It was Victor. “Are you guys ready yet? I’m starving. Let’s go.”
“We’re ready,” Bethany called back. Then she turned back to Genevieve and spoke more quietly. “I’ve got Audrey’s number, if you want it. Then again, she’s got it posted all over Key West. If—”
“I have her number. We live in a really small place, remember?” Genevieve said softly, shoving Bethany toward the door. “And don’t you dare whisper a word of what I’ve said.”
“Of course not,” Bethany said.
“Do you believe in ghosts at all, Thor?” Bethany asked, sitting across from him at one of the group’s favorite seafood places on Whitehead Street.
She was cute, he thought, and apparently an excellent diver, as well, with a round, charming face that made her appear even younger than her twenty-something years. There was a simple eagerness and honesty about her that was very appealing. Different, of course, from the way Genevieve Wallace was appealing. Genevieve seemed to throw off a musk of sensuality and sophistication without the least awareness. Bethany was like a puppy, ready to be cuddled.
“Ouch!” Bethany cried suddenly, reaching down for her leg.
He’d felt the kick. Genevieve was seated next to him, so there was no way he could miss knowing that she had kicked Bethany beneath the table.
“It’s an innocent question,” Bethany said.
He glanced at Genevieve. She stared at him, her expression unfathomable. She was close to him. Very close, in the small booth. Once again they’d ended up together. Not that he would normally have had anything to complain about. Her perfume was subtle, an underlying tease. She’d worn yellow, a halter dress that contrasted perfectly with her dark hair and bronze skin, and set off the elusive green of her eyes. Her every movement aroused his baser instincts, a fact to which she seemed indifferent, maybe even unaware. She was accustomed to being with friends. She obviously took pride in her appearance but did little to enhance what nature had given her. He was in a polo shirt and shorts. The sleek feel of her leg—stretching out as she kicked Bethany—had rubbed along his like a brush of living silk.
She smiled. “Sorry. After the other day…you know.” She stared firmly at Bethany. “We’re not going to talk about ghosts.”
“I just asked if Thor believed in them,” Bethany said.
“No,” he said flatly, and stared at Genevieve again.
“Pass the bread, will you, please?” she asked.
“Have you been to our cemetery?” Bethany persisted.
“Bethany, drop it,” Genevieve warned. “He doesn’t believe in ghosts.”
“I didn’t say he did. If he hasn’t been there, it’s kind of a cool place, that’s all,” Bethany said.
“We used to try to walk the girls by there late at night and scare them,” Victor put in from across the table, next to Bethany. “It is a cool place. It was established in the 1840s, after a hurricane washed up a bunch of old coffins. You should check it out. The graves aren’t set up like in New Orleans, though there are a bunch of mausoleums. They’re stacked on top of one another. There’s a nice little memorial to the Maine. And if you go by at night…it’s creepy. I tried to make out with Genevieve there the first time.”
Genevieve let out a sound of exasperation. “The first time?”
He laughed. “Okay, the only time. It was sad. She was three feet taller than me at the time. I needed a ladder.”
“Very funny,” Genevieve told him.
He blew her a kiss.
“We could take the ghost tour,” Bethany suggested.
Genevieve groaned aloud. “I do not want to take the ghost tour. I thought we were going barhopping?”
“We are barhopping,” Alex said from the end of the table.
“Actually, that’s when most people see ghosts,” Jack chimed in ruefully.
“Yeah, the Hard Rock Cafe is supposed to be haunted,” Bethany said.
“We’re not going to the Hard Rock,” Genevieve said. She had sounded a little impatient and looked at him with just a hint of apology. “The Hard Rock is fine, and the building is supposed to be haunted. One of the Currys committed suicide upstairs and a prominent citizen shot himself in front of the fireplace. The staff tends to be super nice and the food is fine. But you don’t believe in ghosts anyway. It’s still a fine place. It’s just that…we’re going to our local friendly favorite places. Hey, Clint is playing tonight, you know. We’ve got to take our guests to hear Clint.” She looked at Thor again. “He can do anything. His own stuff, country-western, Buffett, the Eagles—and U2.”
“Hey, the girl down at Duffy’s is good, too!” Marshall called.
“Yeah, she’s great,” Genevieve agreed.
Their entrees came, some fish, some chicken, some steak. Just like the appetizers, their main courses were delicious.
Just then the check came, and Thor picked it up.
Genevieve turned to him. “Are you going to put it on a card? I’ll just give you cash.”
“Don’t give me anything.”