Heather Graham Bundle: The Island / Ghost Walk / Killing Kelly / The Vision

He forced a deep breath, aware that he had to tamp down his emotions over his current situation.

He shouted back, “I’m over here.”

A minute later, Lee Gomez and Matt Albright appeared in the clearing. “What’s going on?” Lee asked him. Half-Ecuadorian and half-American mutt, Lee had brilliant blue eyes and pitch-dark hair, and skin that never seemed to mind the sun.

“Not much. Met a woman and two girls—they’re with the woman’s brother, maybe some other people, camping on the island tonight,” Keith said.

Matt shook his head, swearing. He was the redhead in their group, quick to anger, quicker to apologize, but at all times easily irritated. “There’s more. Two more good-size boats, both anchored not far from us. I saw a dinghy coming in with several people.”

“Well, what are you going to do,” Keith asked with a shrug. “Boaters have been coming out here since…well, hell, probably since forever.”

“Yeah, but dammit, they shouldn’t be here now,” Matt muttered.

“Hey, we knew we’d be in public view, working around whatever happened and whoever appeared. People are here, so let’s make the best of it,” Keith said. “And think about it. It’s not much of a shock. It’s a weekend, the perfect time for boaters to take a little break.”

“You don’t think we could dress up as pygmies and scare them all off the island, do you?” Lee murmured dryly.

“Pygmies?” Matt said.

“Some kind of tribal islanders, maybe cannibals?” Lee teased.

Keith laughed. “Oh, yeah, that would make us really inconspicuous. Besides, while they’re on the island, they’re not out on their boats, checking out the reefs. It’s a weekend. Let’s do like the others. Play tourist. Get to know the folks. Check out what they know—and what they’re thinking.” And what they’re afraid of, he thought, but he kept the possibility that anyone on the island might suspect them of something to himself.

Lee shrugged. “All right.”

“So we roll out the cooler and the tent and make like party people,” Matt said. He laughed suddenly. “Not so bad. One of the people on the boat was a woman, and man, she sure as hell looked like a hottie. From a distance, anyway.”

One of the people on the boat? Keith thought. You should have seen the woman in this very clearing, just minutes ago. And I wasn’t any distance from her. None at all.

“Doesn’t matter if she’s hot as blue blazes, no getting too close to the locals, not tonight,” Lee warned sternly.

“Hey, I’m just going to be a party boy. A friendly guy, just looking for fun, a good ole boating fool,” Matt assured him.

“Well, you can be a good ole boy later. I’m not hauling stuff off that boat by myself,” Lee said. “If we’re turning into Boy Scouts and doing the camping thing, you guys can do some of the lugging, too.”

“Actually, camping isn’t such a bad idea,” Keith said.

“No, and getting to know folks from the area isn’t a bad idea, either,” Lee said. He grinned. “I think I’ll own the boat.”

“Hey!” Matt protested.

“Someone has to own the boat, right?” Lee asked.

“You can own the boat,” Keith said.

“I get to own it next time,” Matt said.

“With any luck, there won’t be a next time,” Keith said. He stared at the other two, and he couldn’t help feeling an edge of suspicion.

Lee stared back at him. His eyes were enigmatic. “Ever the optimist, huh?”

“I just know what I’m doing,” Keith said.

Lee assessed him for what seemed like an eternity. “I hope,” Lee said. “I hope to hell you’re focused on what we’re doing.”

“I’m focused. You can count on it,” Keith said, and he knew his tone was grim.

“C’mon, then, let’s go play tourist,” Lee said.

“Sure. Be right there,” Keith said.

“Hey, we’re all in this together, you know,” Matt reminded him, his eyes narrowed.

“Yup.”

They were in it together, true. But the other two didn’t know that he’d been warned specifically to keep an eye on them.

“Damn, Keith, you’re acting bizarre,” Lee said, staring at him. “Think of what’s happened. Focus is the most important thing here.”

More important than human life? Keith wondered. “I’ll be right with you.”

“He’s working on that instinct thing he’s got going for him,” Matt said, shrugging. “Come on, Lee, let’s get started. Wonderboy will be along.”

Keith waited until they walked back toward the northern shore.

And then he began to search the clearing.

Oh, yeah. He was focused.

There were certain images a man could never quite get out of his mind. Dead men. Dead friends. Friends who’d had everything in the world to live for. Young. The best of the best.

He stiffened, listening. People were coming. The island was becoming more crowded by the minute. He swore softly.

“Hey there,” came a throaty, masculine voice.

A man of about sixty, followed by a petite young woman and two men about his own age, was entering the clearing.

“Hey,” Keith replied, stepping forward, a smile on his face.

Ah, yes, the masses had arrived. He didn’t know why he was suddenly so certain that he and his associates weren’t the only ones traveling incognito.

BETH AND THE GIRLS EMERGED from the lush greenery in the center of the island to reach the beach. It was beautiful. Once upon a time there had been a very small naval base on Calliope Key, a research center. It had been abandoned, but back toward the interior the ruins of the old buildings remained, allowing a safe haven of sorts if the weather turned really foul. Today, though, the sun was streaming down, a soft breeze was blowing, and the sea appeared incredibly serene.

Ben was on the beach, barefoot, in cutoffs and shades, dressed remarkably like the man who had just scared Beth. He glanced up when he saw them coming. “Back so soon? I thought you were exploring, seeing if there was anyone else around.”

At thirty-four, Beth thought, her brother was in his prime. He had, however, taken the task of raising his daughter to heart. Despite the fact that he had lost his wife years ago, he was still far more prone to spend his nights at home rather than out at the boat clubs—though he did belong to Rock Reef, where she worked as a social director—seeking companionship. Beth actually wished he would be more of a sinner at times. She knew how much Amber meant to him, but she was afraid that he wasn’t allowing much room in his life for the future. He had been madly in love with Amber’s mom, his high-school sweetheart, and nothing had ever changed his desire to see that Amber had everything he could provide, including his company—whether she wanted it or not, since Amber had reached that age where she wanted to spend her nights prowling the malls with her friends, rather than bonding with her dad. She adored him. She was simply being a teenager.

“We were exploring,” Beth said.

“We met a guy,” Amber said.

“Wicked cute,” Kimberly added.

Beth groaned.

“Wicked cute young, or wicked cute old?” Ben asked, a sparkle in his eyes.

“Wicked cute your age, or Aunt Beth’s age…well, I don’t know,” Amber said. “He’s not a kid, anyway.”

“Ah.” Ben winked at Beth. “They trying to play matchmaker?”

“I hope not,” she said too sharply.

“So, he wasn’t wicked cute?”

“Oh, no, he was good-looking.”

“But…?” Ben teased.

“Not my type,” she said quickly.

Amber sighed dramatically. “The two of you are hopeless.”

“He’s a total stranger, and you don’t go around trusting total strangers,” Beth snapped.

Ben arched a brow. She tended to be the one who nagged him to lighten up on Amber.

“Girls, go grab the barbecue equipment, will you?” Beth asked.

“She’s going to tell you about the skull,” Amber said.

“Skull?” Ben had been fiddling with one of the tent poles. He went still, staring at Beth with a wary question in his eyes.

“Kim stubbed her toe on something, and…I think it’s actually a skull,” Beth said.

“Did you…pick it up?” Ben asked.

“No, I thought you and I should go take a look. And then, if it’s what I think, radio the authorities. I didn’t want to dig it up with the girls there,” Beth said. She bit her lip. “Except…I’m not so sure we should leave them alone on the beach.”

Ben shook his head. “Beth, this island has been a boaters’ paradise forever.”

“I know that.”

“The naval base has been closed for decades—people who come here have boats and are…well, boat people.”

“I know that, too.”

“So…?” he said softly.

She cleared her throat, glancing at the girls, who clearly weren’t about to leave.

“Ben, damn it! Remember that couple…Ted and Molly Monoco?”

“What about them?” Ben asked, frowning.

“They were last seen here, on this island.”

He sighed, shaking his head. “So what? They had a state-of-the-art yacht and intended to sail around the world, Beth.”

“They disappeared. I heard it on the news several months ago,” she responded stubbornly.

Ben let out a deep sigh. “Beth, a friend called in, worried about them, that’s all. They might be anywhere. The news loves to turn anything into a tragedy.” He caught Amber’s eyes and grimaced. “Maybe your aunt does need to meet a tall dark hunk, huh?”

“Ben!”

“He was blondish!” Amber said, laughing.

“Okay, girls, you stay here and set stuff up, and Aunt Beth and I will go check out that skull.”

“I don’t think we should leave them alone,” Beth said.

“She’s afraid of the guy we met,” Amber explained.

“I’m not afraid of him,” Beth protested.

“It’s all right,” Ben said. “I just saw Hank and Amanda Mason, and her dad and a cousin, I think. They’re just down the beach. Girls, scream like hell if anyone comes near you, all right?”

Amanda Mason. Great. Normally, the concept of Amanda—who could be totally obnoxious—being around on the weekend would have bugged Beth to no end. At the moment, though, she was glad that the Masons were there on the beach.

Within screaming distance.

“You bet,” Kimberly said.

“Unless it’s a really hot guy with a beer,” Amber said.

That brought her father spinning around.

“Just kidding!” Amber said. “Dad, I’m joking. Aunt Beth? Tell him.”

“She’s just teasing you, Ben. Give it a break,” Beth told him.

He rolled his eyes, starting off ahead of her. “Why does she do that to me?” he demanded.

“Because you tend to be completely paranoid, and you’re on her tail like a bloodhound most of the time,” Beth told him, following him through the brush, pushing palm fronds out of her way.

“Right, and you’re not being just a little bit paranoid?”

“Ben, I honestly think we found a skull. I’m worried with reason. If you make Amber crazy enough, then you’ll have reason to worry, too.”

“You wait ’til you have kids,” he warned her, stopping and turning back to her. “She’s everything I’ve got,” he said softly.

Beth nodded. “So let go a little bit.”

“She’s only fourteen.”

“Just a little bit. Then she’ll come back to you and tell you all the wild stuff going on with her friends. You’ve got to let her live a little.”

He nodded, serious then.

They reached the clearing. It was empty.

“Okay, I don’t see any guy.”

“I hardly thought he would just stand around waiting,” Beth said.

“All right, then. Where’s the skull?”

“Right here…I pushed a palm frond over it.”

She walked over to where they had been. Tentatively, she moved away the fallen debris.

There was nothing there. Nothing at all. It didn’t even look as if the earth had been disturbed. “I…” She looked at her brother. He was staring at her with skepticism. “Damn it, Ben, the girls saw it, too!”

“So where is it?”

“I don’t know!” She stared around the clearing. There was plenty of debris about; area storms could be fierce, blowing hard against fragile palms and pines.

But though she kicked up every inch of the clearing, dragging away every palm frond and branch she could see, there was no sign of anything that so much as resembled a skull.

Then…

“Aha!” she cried, and dug, only to dig up a conch shell.

“There’s your skull,” Ben said.

“No, this isn’t it. Ben, I’m telling you, I saw a skull. And I didn’t dig it up while the kids were here because it looked like there was still hair attached, even rotting flesh.”

“Come on, Beth. You’re too into CSI and Autopsy onetwo-three-four-and-up-to-fifty-or-a-hundred-or-whateverit-is-now. I’m heading back to the campsite.”

“Ben!”

“What?” he demanded, turning back to stare at her.

“I’m telling you, there was a skull. And then there was that guy—”

“You know what, Beth? I’m a guy, a lawyer, and yes, I tend to be a little nervous because I know the kinds of people who are out there in the world. Hell, I have a gun, and I know how to use it. But think about it, Beth. You just saw the guy a few minutes ago. And what you thought was a skull had to be down to the bone.”

“Not completely,” she murmured, feeling a little ill.

“Beth,” Ben argued, “how could a guy who just got here be responsible for a skull that may or may not exist, and, if so, is almost down to the bone? I am not going to ruin this weekend with my daughter and her friend, so please…”

She stood up, dusting off her hands again, lips pursed. She nodded. “I know it’s the weekend. I know that it’s bond-withyour-daughter time. Yes, we’ll have a good time. I promise.”

He started back along the trail to the beach.

Beth hesitated. She felt night coming, felt the breeze whispering through her hair.

Could she have been mistaken?

No!

Damn it! She had seen it, and it had been a skull. A human skull. So where the hell was it now?

A chill settled over her.

Had he taken it?

Was the skull the reason he had come to the island?

The palm fronds around her began to whisper. She turned quickly toward the trail. “Ben?”

Her brother didn’t reply.

She glanced around quickly, then called out again, “Ben! Wait for me!”

With those words on her lips, she raced after him, clinging to the words he had said to her.

I have a gun, and I know how to use it.

But did he have it with him?

And what if the other guy had a gun and knew how to use it, too?

2

“THERE’S YOUR GUY,” BEN SAID as they walked back onto the beach. He pointed down a stretch of sand.

And indeed, there he was. Along with two other men, one dark and Hispanic looking, the other a blazing redhead, he was securing a large tent pole in the sand. They had respected the silent privacy rule all boaters who used the island obeyed, staking out their territory a distance away from anyone else. From where they stood, Beth couldn’t make out the expressions of any of the men.

The redhead stopped working, however, elbowed Keith, pointed toward them, then waved.

Ben waved in return.

“You’re not waving to your new hottie,” Ben teased.

“He’s not my anything,” Beth retorted.

“The girls were impressed.”

“The girls are young and impressionable,” she snapped.

Her brother looked at her quizzically. “What is the matter with you?”

“Nothing. It’s just that, no matter what, I know I saw a skull.”

“Which we couldn’t find.”

“No,” she admitted. “But I’m telling you, there was something there. That guy was there, too. And now the thing isn’t there, and the same guy is on the beach!”

“I can walk over and ask him if he just dug up a skull,” Ben said.

She glared at him. “And if he did, he’s just going to say yes?”

“Beth, what do you want me to do?” Ben demanded, shaking his head.

“Be careful.”

“All right, I’ll be afraid. Very afraid.”

“Ben…”

“Beth, honestly, I’m not ignoring what you said. But don’t ignore what I said, either. I’m capable of watching out for my own family. I never forget that I have two teenagers in my care when I take the girls out. Okay, you got spooked and you remembered that missing couple. But I read the stories, too. They wanted to explore the world, take off by themselves. They planned on an endless trip, on going wherever they chose.”

“But still, they just…disappeared,” Beth said stubbornly.

“Beth, it’s legal for adults to disappear, if they want to.”

“Their friends were concerned.”

“Maybe they wanted an escape from their friends,” Ben suggested.

“Who would do that?” Beth demanded.

“Beth, please. This is a weekend. We’re here to have fun. Just let it go, okay?”

She exhaled loudly in exasperation, spinning away from him and heading toward the girls. The were studying a Hollywood-gossip magazine and seemed to have forgotten that they might have stumbled across human remains.

But Amber looked up when Beth hunched down and joined them in the little outer “room” of their tent.

“Was it a skull?” she asked.

“I don’t know. It wasn’t there anymore.”

A strange look filtered through Amber’s eyes.

“Do you think he took it?” Kim demanded.

“Shh,” Amber commanded. “He’s here.”

Beth’s head jerked around. The man who had introduced himself as Keith Henson was there—standing just outside the tents, where Ben had been building a small fire to cook their evening meal.

The other two were also there: the tall, lean, redhead and the darker man with the stockier, well-muscled build.

Beth overheard introductions and realized her brother was telling Keith that she had mentioned meeting him earlier.

Beth sprang into action, hurrying out. The girls followed her quickly. More introductions were made. The other two were Lee Gomez and Matt Albright.

Keith was still wearing the sunglasses, allowing no insight to his thoughts. He was smiling, however, and Beth had to admit that he was gorgeous, with classic bone structure that also offered a solidly sculpted strength. Lee Gomez was also striking, with his dark good looks, and Matt, though freckled, gave the initial impression of the charming boy next door.

“Keith was just saying that they brought a portable grill and have enough fresh fish to feed an army,” Ben said.

She stared at her brother. He wanted them to join these strangers?

“I’ve also made a mean potato salad,” Lee offered, grinning.

“We must have something to offer, don’t we?” Ben asked Beth.

“The salad,” Amber answered for her. “We have chips, too, tons of soda and some beer.”

“Sounds great. We’re right down the beach. Hopefully the alluring aromas will bring you right over,” Matt said.

“Well?” Ben asked her.

“Of course,” Beth said, seeing no graceful way out of it.

“We met some other people, down the beach on the other side,” Keith said. “They said they know you. They’ll be joining us, too.”

“Oh, the Masons,” Ben said.

“That’s right. The Masons are here,” Beth murmured. She could see Hank’s yacht, Southern Light, out on the water. She was a fine vessel, forty-five feet, forty years old, but her motor had been completely rebuilt and the interior redone. She was often referred to as the Grand Dame at the club.

“Actually, I’m not straight on exactly who’s who yet. Except for Amanda,” Keith said.

Of course he’d gotten Amanda right. She was five-five, shaped like an hourglass, with blue eyes and light blond hair. Few men ever missed Amanda.

“There’s an older man,” Lee said.

“Roger Mason, her dad,” Beth said.

“Hank has to be here,” Ben said. “Amanda’s cousin. The boat’s his.”

“Yes, right. Hank. And the other guy is…”

“Probably Gerald, another cousin,” Beth said. “He lives just up the coast from the rest of the family, in Boca Raton.”

“So…they’re all cousins?” Matt asked, a hopeful note in his voice.

“Hank, Amanda and Gerald are cousins—second cousins, I think,” Ben said.

He hadn’t seemed to notice the hope in the question. He wouldn’t, Beth thought. He was always too busy being a father.

“There’s a young couple camping just beyond them,” Keith said. Even though Beth couldn’t see his eyes, she knew he was staring straight at her. “Maybe you know them, too. Brad Shaw and a woman named Sandy Allison?”

She shook her head. “The names aren’t familiar.” Again she looked out to the water.

She had missed the fourth boat because it was anchored just beyond Hank’s Southern Light.

The last vessel was a small pleasure craft. She looked as if she needed paint, and she probably offered no more than a small head, galley, and perhaps room enough for two to sleep in the forward section. There were lots of small boats docked at the club, and some of those—especially the motorboats—were incredibly expensive.

On the other hand, some of them weren’t. One of the things Beth had always liked about working at the club was the fact that the people there were honestly dedicated to the water. They came from all life’s corners, just like their boats did. The initial membership fee was steep, but after that, the annual dues were reasonable, so people from all different social strata could afford to join, once they saved up the initial investment. She was also proud that the club specialized in lessons in sailing, swimming, diving and water safety.

At the club, though, no matter how inexpensive any of their boats might be, the members, even the broke ones, took pleasure in caring for them—unlike the sad little vessel out beyond Southern Light.

“Four boats,” Beth murmured.

“Anyway,” Keith said, “we’ve asked everyone over to our little patch of beach.”

“Great,” Ben said.

“Come on over whenever you feel like it,” Keith said. “We’re not far,” he said, indicating the short stretch of sand that separated the two camps.

“Want help?” Amber asked enthusiastically.

Beth was tempted to grasp her niece’s arm.

“I think we’ve got it under control,” Keith said gravely. “But if you need help hauling chips and salad, you let us know.”

He had dimples and a pleasant way with the girls. He wasn’t inappropriate or flirtatious—as some older men would have been, just nice. He should have seemed charming, Beth knew, but she was too suspicious of him for that.

“We’ll see you down there in a bit,” Lee said.

The three men waved and started off down the sand. Ben turned to Beth. “Feel better?” he asked her.

She stared at her brother, shaking her head.

“What? Still scared? Nothing’s going to happen. Some of the other members from the yacht club will be with us,” he reminded her.

Ben was a member. She was the social manager, and she loved her job and most of the members, who were always pleasant and appreciative.

Then there was Amanda.

Luckily she wasn’t there on a daily—or even weekly—basis. Hank was the real boat fanatic. It had been his father who had first joined the club, which had been formed back in 1910. Originally it had been just two lifelong friends, Commodore Isaak and Vice Commodore Gleason, who had gotten together to drink and chat in their retirement. By the 1920s, there had been ten members, rising to nearly a hundred before World War II. With far too many able-bodied sailors in the navy, the facility had been used for a while as rehab for returnees. The 1950s had seen a resurgence in membership, and it had become a casual place in the seventies. When the hippies became yuppies in the nineties, the price of membership had soared. At the moment, there were about two hundred members, a hundred of those with boat slips, and at least fifty who could be considered fairly active. Ben and Beth’s father had been a commodore, and with his passing, Ben had taken up the family participation in the place.

Beth, with a degree in public relations, had taken a job.

Had she realized that she would be dealing with the Amandas of the world, she might have thought twice. Amanda was the type to drop a letter on her desk and, without looking at her, tell her that she needed copies. She complained at the slightest mistake made by any of the help. Two waitresses in the dining room had quit in tears after serving her.