The Vision

Nor did she dare take the street in front of her house. What if he came after her?



She hesitated, then turned and climbed over the fence to her neighbor’s yard. As she did, she felt a strange chill.



She thought about the times she could have sworn she was being watched, that she was being followed.



Someone she knew was the killer.



The knowledge washed over her with complete certainty.



Victor?



Her heart and mind fought the possibility.



She cut through people’s backyards at first, disturbed to feel there were eyes in the night, that she was even now being watched—being stalked.



That was sheer idiocy, she assured herself. She didn’t know how anyone could have possibly followed her, the way she had left, the path she was taking.



She eased back onto Duval Street, feeling like a paranoid fool. There were people everywhere. She hadn’t been followed. She almost laughed aloud at herself as she hurried on toward the resort, then sobered when she realized that if she should run into Victor alone now, she really would be scared. She’d walked out on him. He was going to be more furious than ever.



She took the half turn toward the water and the resort, her strides long and confident. It was when she reached the parking lot that the odd feeling returned.



She found herself pausing. The night had gone full dark. Streetlights created shadows under every leaf and branch. Clouds passed over the moon.



Why am I standing in the parking lot, shivering? she asked herself.



She realized that she didn’t want to take the overgrown path to the tiki bar area and the bungalows.



She managed to make herself move at last. She hurried toward her own cottage, then paused.



There was a figure on the little porch, seated and hunched over. She couldn’t tell who it was.



She started toward the bar, but there wasn’t a soul at the tables. Clint wasn’t even there, though the place was entirely set up. As she hesitated, she heard her name being called. Someone was coming through the parking lot in her wake.



Had she been followed?



She didn’t want to be seen, didn’t want to be caught alone, but she couldn’t go to her own cottage. Silently, she hurried across the sand, heading for the docks.



She avoided the pier where the dive boats were berthed, choosing to move along the other. Jay’s boat was there, as was Jack’s.



To her amazement, Jay Gonzalez was on his boat, though he hadn’t seen her. His head was bowed as he sat in the captain’s chair, busy at something.



He was a cop, for God’s sake. She should just go ask him for help.



But she didn’t want to see anyone. Not until she saw lots of someones.



She kept moving then, certain he would look up if she moved back to land but all too aware that she was almost dead in front of him.



He still didn’t see her, he was so completely absorbed in his task.



As she stared at him, she realized what he was doing.



Knotting and unknotting a rope, over and over again.



Her heart hammered; she needed to get past him. She hurried on, terrified that at any moment he would look up.



Her door was closed, but it wasn’t locked when Thor arrived.



Brent Blackhawk was running toward the house just as Thor got there. He shot Brent a frantic look, then burst into the house.



To his amazement, Victor was there, sprawled on the sofa, drinking a beer.



“Where is Genevieve?” Thor demanded, striding forward and catching him by the shirt, dragging him up from the couch.



“What the hell is the matter with you?” Victor cried out, torn between trying to wrench away and taking a swing.



“Hey! Take it easy, both of you!” Blackhawk ordered. “Thor let him go.”



Thor eased his hold on Victor, who was staring daggers at him, teeth clenched in anger.



“Where is she?”



Victor shook his head, looking worried. “I don’t know,” he admitted sickly. “I was hoping she’d come back. I didn’t mean to, but I guess I scared her. I—” He broke off in fear when he saw the murderous look that entered Thor’s eyes.



Brent forced himself between the two men. “The important thing is that we find her,” he said quietly. “Where did she go?”



“I’m not lying, I don’t know. She said she was going to get me a beer, then she ran out the back door. I called her, but I didn’t want to chase her and really scare her, so I figured I’d wait here for her to get back.”



Thor realized he was still tense; his muscles were knotted and he wanted to shake Victor until he produced Genevieve.



“Go easy on him. I think he’s telling the truth.” It wasn’t Brent Blackhawk who spoke, but Josh Harrison, who had walked in and was standing behind Victor.



“What the hell do you know about it?” Thor demanded irritably.



“Who the hell are you talking to?” Victor demanded.



“Tell him,” Josh said indignantly to Thor.



“You shut up,” Thor muttered.



“Excuse me, but Gen is my friend, too,” Brent said.



Something in his manner alarmed Victor. “You think something is really wrong, don’t you? Look, I swear to you, I’m not the killer.”



Thor took a step back, pulling out his cell phone. The killer was someone they knew. Someone who had been in the Keys a long time.



Not Marshall. He was still in Miami.



So assuming Victor was telling the truth…



Alex?



Not from Key West, though close enough.



Still, in his mind, only two suspects were left.



Both had been old enough to kill when the first woman went missing. One might have done away with his own spouse.



He dialed Jay Gonzalez’s cell phone. No answer.



Brent Blackhawk was staring at him. “She probably went to the resort, where she would expect to find lots of people.”



“Of course,” Victor said. “I bet she’s having a drink at the tiki bar.”



“Let’s go,” Thor said.



She had made it past Jay unseen when she heard the strange noise, a kind of thunk. She didn’t know what it was, and she didn’t want to know. She just wanted to get away.



Ten feet to Jack’s boat. She ran along the pier and took a flying leap, landing hard on the deck of the beat-up old fishing boat. She ducked down, waiting, certain Jay was somewhere, that he was coming after her. He’d seen her and had no doubt paused only to get a weapon.



She waited, her heart thundering. And waited some more.



And no one came for her.



Jack, thank you for docking your boat here, she thought.



She closed her eyes tightly. Still waiting. Still afraid to move, even afraid to breathe. Then she opened her eyes.



She felt a soft tremor in her heart, but not of fear.



The ghost was back.



Just as she saw the beautiful woman in white, she heard the noise. It was muffled, something knocking against the bottom of the boat.



The ghost stared at her with her huge sad eyes.



Beware.



Help…she needs help.



She?



The noise again. Staring at her unearthly friend, Genevieve slowly rose. There was no one on the dock. The moon shone down through a break in the clouds. The noise came again.



She nearly tripped on one of the oars for the little dinghy as she moved carefully to the small cabin. There was barely any light at all there, but it was enough for Genevieve to see that no one was there. Her heart was thundering.



She?



Audrey?



She realized there was a hatch offering access to the engine, just at the base of the stepladder that led from the deck to the cabin. A massive slide bolt held the hatch door in place. She fell to her knees and realized it wasn’t even closed. She struggled with the door, which seemed to be stuck.



She struggled again, tugging with all her might.



It gave suddenly, and she fell back.



In the darkness, she didn’t at first recognize the figure that rose from the bilge.



“Gen!”



She tried desperately to scramble to her feet, but she was only halfway up when an oar—partner to the one she had nearly tripped over on the deck—came crashing down on her skull.



Bethany was at the tiki bar.



Thor was sure he scared her half to death when he rushed up behind her, and grabbed her anxiously by the shoulder. For the rest of her life, she would probably be sure he was crazy.



“Where’s Genevieve?”



“I don’t know. I just got here.”



“So did I,” Alex said, walking up behind him.



“Where were you?” Thor demanded.



“Over there,” he said, gesturing. “I didn’t know where the hell anyone was and I was getting lonely, then I saw Bethany get here. So I came over. I did see Jay earlier. He was heading out to his boat. It didn’t look like he wanted company, though.”



“His boat?” Thor said.



“Over there,” Bethany said, pointing. “A bunch of cops keep their boats here.”



Thor was already running, the others behind him. Suddenly he stopped, not knowing which boat. Bethany nearly crashed into him.



“There—she’s called My Lady.”



He sped forward, leaping from the dock to the deck of the boat. There was no one there, but lengths of rope were strewn everywhere.



“Genevieve!” he bellowed out.



There was nothing. No sound.



“Oh, shit,” Alex swore. “There!”



Thor looked into the water. A man’s body was floating, facedown.



He dived in, Blackhawk behind him. Catching hold of the man, he flipped him; with Blackhawk’s help, he quickly dragged him to the side of My Lady.



Bethany and Alex were there to help drag him up.



“It’s Jay. He’s not breathing,” Bethany said as Thor and Brent pulled themselves from the water.



Alex already had Jay stretched out on his back. “Bethany, dial 911. Fast.” He ripped off Jay’s sodden shirt, falling to his knees, ready to perform CPR.



“There’s a knot on his head the size of an emu egg,” Brent commented.



“What the hell…?” Thor murmured, hunkering down. He looked around. There was an empty berth next to My Lady. And the lines hadn’t been untied; they had been severed.