The Vision

“Great. Where is the rest of our party?” Alex asked. “Genevieve and Bethany are gone. Why would Genevieve disappear? She and Thor were the ones who made the discovery.”

“They’ll be right back,” Victor said.

“Where’d they go?” Alex demanded.

Victor shrugged. “Some errand…I don’t know. They know the path we’re following. They’ll find us.”

“Well, hell, I say we toast without them,” Alex said, rolling his eyes.

“We should wait,” Lizzie said politely.

“Toast,” Marshall said, shaking his head. “They’ll get here when they get here.”

“Champagne will give me a splitting headache tomorrow—mind if I toast with a beer?” Zach asked.

The sentiment went around. Marshall shrugged. “Beer will be a lot cheaper. All right, beer all around.”

“Order two extra—if our delinquents don’t show up soon, we’ll drink them anyway, I’m sure,” Victor said.

Thor glanced out the open door, letting the conversation flow around him.

Thanks to Genevieve’s height, he was certain he saw her.

She was just passing into an alleyway at the far end of the block.

“Be right back,” he said, and left to follow her.

“This is nuts,” Genevieve told Bethany.

Bethany stopped walking to stare at her. Genevieve had explained pretty much everything that had happened to her. She’d had to, since Bethany knew she wasn’t prone to simply walking out into the surf in her nightshirt. Bethany had been practical at first.

“No pirate bones are going to rise up and come get you,” she had said thoughtfully. “I mean, think about the time and the conditions. The sea, storms, sand…those skeletons are not intact anymore. Unless, of course, the pirates were buried. But then why would they be coming at you from the sea? Can you imagine being here after that storm when all the bodies floated up? Ugh!”

“I’m sure the skeletons were just a dream,” Genevieve said.

“But you were all covered in seawater—and seaweed,” Bethany said. “And then you saw the ghost again.”

“But she was trying to help me. That’s what’s so weird.”

“And that’s why you have to talk to Audrey. I called her and told her we’d have about ten minutes. She’s waiting for us. She’s a great researcher—that’s where she gets all her ghost stuff when she tells visitors who’s following them down Duval Street—so she may know something after all. Hey, what can it hurt?”

They had come to a small wrought-iron gate that led to a walkway between two buildings. A small cottage from the late nineteenth century was sandwiched in at the end of the walk. On the sign above the gate were written the words: Oracle; Tarot and Palm Readings. Appointments Suggested, Walk-ins Welcome.

Genevieve let out a sigh and opened the gate. Bethany followed her through.

Audrey was, as promised, waiting for them. She was standing at the wooden door to the house, opening it wide as she saw them arrive. “Hi, guys! Amazing, we live and work in the same town and hardly ever see each other. But your new project must be really exciting, huh? Welcome. Come in, come in.”

Audrey wasn’t quite as tall as Genevieve, but she was a respectable five-nine, and she bowed a bit to give Bethany a hug, then reached up just a shade to welcome Genevieve. She was a pretty woman, with long dark hair and flashing dark eyes. Genevieve had been afraid she would find her old friend dressed up in a shawl and scarf, calling herself Madam Zena or something. But Audrey was wearing a simple, fashionably casual cotton skirt and halter top, with sandals.

“It’s great to see you, Audrey,” Genevieve said, feeling guilty. They did live in an incredibly small community. Why didn’t they keep up with old friends?

“You look great,” Bethany said.

“So do you two. But then again, you’re athletes, huh? Living in bathing suits, diving, diving, diving. So what’s up? I can’t believe you came for a tarot reading,” she said, and looked curiously at Genevieve. “Bethany said you only had about ten minutes.”

“She’s seeing ghosts,” Bethany said cheerfully.

Audrey’s brows shot up as she looked at Genevieve. “You?” she said incredulously.

“No, not really—”

“Good God, tell her the truth!” Bethany exploded.

“All right, I think I’m seeing a ghost near the site where we think a wreck is lying. But she’s turned out to be a helpful ghost,” Genevieve said, feeling ridiculous.

“I can do some historical research for you, see what I can find.” She shrugged and grinned, looking at Genevieve. “I’ve never, uh, seen a ghost. I mean, this is a cool way to make a living, but…” She shrugged wordlessly. “Anyway…I’m sure I can find something if I look into your wreck more deeply.”

“I’ve done all kinds of research,” Genevieve said. “I’m still not sure who this woman might be.”

“Wait,” Bethany protested. “You said Gasparilla was in love with the captain’s daughter. Maybe that’s who you’re seeing. Maybe she spurned him and he drowned her.”

Genevieve stared at Bethany. She didn’t know why she hadn’t thought of that possibility.

Yes, she did. She hadn’t believed the first time that she’d really seen a ghost. She’d been looking for a prankster—or the victim of a recent murder.

“I don’t know,” she murmured. “That’s an idea, certainly.” She winced, looking back at Audrey. “When I didn’t freak out at the sight of her the second time I saw her, she led me to the first find.”

“Really?” Audrey said, staring at her.

“Don’t you dare tell any of this to anyone, please?” Genevieve begged.

Audrey shook her head. “Don’t worry, I won’t. But if anything comes out of this…I’m working on a book of Key West ghost stories right now. If there’s something to this Gasparilla connection, can I use this?”

“Sure. But for the moment, if my co-workers think I’m seeing a medium so I can communicate with the dead, I won’t be working on this project much longer,” Genevieve said.

Audrey smiled and said softly, “I’d never betray a friend. But, hey, let me see your palm.”

Genevieve was tempted to lock her hands behind her back like a frightened child.

“Give her your hand,” Bethany said impatiently.

When Genevieve did so, she was instantly disturbed.

Because Audrey seemed disturbed. She frowned deeply, her mouth pursing. “Interesting,” she said at last.

“What?” Genevieve asked warily.

“Oh, nothing, really. I just go by the books. It’s all a lot of bull.”