“Stop! God, help me, stop!”
His body began to tilt as his bony assailants pressed at him. Then he, and they, went overboard.
There was dead silence on the boat for a minute. Absolute stillness.
Then they rushed for the rail.
Jack surfaced and he screamed again as a bony hand emerged, grabbed him, and he went down for the last time.
They were stunned, just staring. Then Genevieve swallowed audibly and looked at Thor.
“Audrey!” she cried.
Brent shook himself back to reality and responded. “She’s breathing, and she has a pulse. Just barely. God knows what she went through. She was his captive for days. But I radioed for help. The police are on the way.”
Genevieve took a deep breath of relief, then turned to stare at Thor.
“Did…did you see…?”
“Yes,” he said simply. And he took her into his arms, shaking.
Epilogue
It was strange, Thor thought. Whereas Josh Harrison appeared solid and real, Anne was gossamer.
He had gone outside, needing to see the night sky and feel the breeze. There were too many people inside, he thought, staring out at the ocean.
Neither he nor Genevieve had lost their love for the sea, and they had returned to the Marie Josephine project. It was their willingness to go back after nearly losing their lives that had made an impact on Marshall.
That, or maybe Gen herself, talking to him for hours, convincing him that if there were spirits in the ocean, they’d been trying to tell him something, not kill him.
Of course, they never mentioned ghosts themselves. What had happened that night out on the water remained between Genevieve, Blackhawk and himself.
Victor and Genevieve had patched up their differences. Genevieve had been buying Victor apology dinners ever since.
As for the project, not even Jack had known where to find the bulk of the treasure, but Genevieve had found a large section of the hull. The vacuuming equipment had been brought in, and a chest filled with treasure had been found.
It was with Adam, Bethany and the Blackhawks that he and Genevieve had pieced together the most important discovery, and that had been before the bitter end for Jack. Genevieve believed that Anne had needed the world to know that Aldo had been her murderer. In Genevieve, she had seen someone with the strength to help her, as well as the spirits of the girls who’d shared her watery grave over the years.
As for the pirates, they had apparently admired Anne, who, in her captivity—that time in which she had fallen in love with Gasparilla and he had apparently returned her devotion—must have been kind, charming and engaging.
Perhaps they had guarded the treasure they had never stolen in life. Perhaps they had merely stayed behind to help her find justice.
Audrey had gotten well quickly, though. She’d refused to discuss her ordeal with them. She had done what she’d needed to to stay alive as long as possible. The only one she’d been willing to talk to was Jay.
They had spent time recuperating together, and she’d helped him put together his case against Jack. Then they had surprised everyone by flying off to Vegas and eloping. They still seemed incredibly happy.
He and Gen had opted for a more traditional wedding. Well, traditional, by Key West standards, anyway.
His bride had been beautiful in white—but shoeless. They’d been married on the beach at sunset, only a few hours ago, with Father Bellamy presiding.
Bethany, Victor and Alex had been half smashed before the wedding had begun, and they had cried throughout, hugging one another. A difficult feat, since Bethany had been the maid of honor and the other two had served as ushers. But Lizzie and Zach—who had taken work in Australia—had flown back for the wedding and done their best to keep the others in control. Everybody from the project had been there—Adam, Brent, Nikki, Marshall. Something had grown between them, a friendship that would endure.
But friendship or no, he’d needed some air, only as soon as he’d walked out he’d seen Josh, leaning against the back porch rail, with Anne beside him.
“You’re not there. I don’t see you,” Thor groaned.
“I am here, tough guy, and you know it.”
Thor looked at Anne. She was still so skittish, so afraid….
He trembled inside.
Where would he be now, without her? Without her and her band of pirates?
“Thank you,” he said softly, as she began to fade away, her work done. “But I’ve got to go in.”
Feeling like a fool, he waved goodbye to the ghosts, wondering if he would ever see them again.
Inside, he ran right into Victor. The music was high, laughter in the air.
“Where’s Gen?” he asked.
“I think she went upstairs, looking for you?” Victor said.
Thor took the stairs two at a time. Gen was in their room, standing at the window, looking down at Duval Street.
She turned, smiled.
His heart fluttered. Her hair was long, rich, waving with lustrous highlights against the black satin of her silk dress. Her eyes…God, he was in love with her eyes, the sound of her voice…
“Hey you.” She walked toward him, catching his tie, pulling him close, kissing his lips.
“I love you,” he told her, kissing her back.
“I love you, too. Listen, I know you think I’m crazy—” she began.
He pressed a finger against her lips. “I believe,” he whispered very softly. “I believe. And now that that’s settled, please just shut up so I can kiss my wife properly.”
She smiled.
He did, too.
Outside, the palms swayed and the breeze blew, and there might have been a hint of delighted ghostly laughter, fading into the night.
Turn the page for an exciting preview of
KISS OF DARKNESS,
New York Times bestselling author
Heather Graham’s next MIRA novel,
available everywhere
in September 2006.
Jessica paused for a minute at the gate to her house. There was a stirring in the air. Rain tomorrow, she thought, and looked up at the sky.
She didn’t like what she saw. She opened and closed the gate, then hurried toward the door, then paused again, staring heavenward. A strange sense of urgency assailed her, a feeling that she needed to be moving quickly.
Maybe I need a vacation, she thought. Or maybe I’m losing my mind.
Too bad.
There was nothing she could do about it now. The plane would leave the next day, and she would be on it. And then she would be in Romania, at the conference. Working.
She didn’t sleep. She lay on her bed, strangely aware of time passing.
In the middle of the night, she walked outside to her balcony, which faced the street. From a distance, she could very faintly hear the sounds of music and laughter, carried on the air from the French Quarter.
She looked at the sky again. Absurdly, it appeared as if there was a hint of red in the night air. A hint of red that seemed to grow stronger as she watched and the darkness seemed to take an almost physical form around her.
Ridiculous.
She imagined herself with a shrink. “I don’t actually see the dark…I feel it.”
For a moment, a chill seized her as the darkness seemed to loom like a hint, a warning. A deep red darkness.
It made her feel as if she were being haunted. Stalked.
She stepped back into her room, locking the balcony doors, trying to fight the feeling.
But she was oddly afraid. As she hadn’t been in ages.
She stayed awake, staring at the sky, certain the darkness was turning a still deeper red as she watched.
Suddenly she felt dizzy. The world before her seemed to shift and change. She was no longer in her bedroom but outside, staring at a high ridge, and atop the ridge stood a man. He was exceptionally tall, a cape billowing around him in the breeze.
And he was the epi
tome of evil.
The vision faded. She was home again, in her own room, the peace and beauty barely disturbed by distant sounds from the street, the scent of magnolia blossoms heavy on the air.
She was losing her mind, she told herself impatiently. She needed some sleep.
The next day, alighting in Romania, she felt a chill the minute her feet touched the ground.
A disembodied voice announced comings and goings in a multitude of languages. The bright lights of the airport were all around her.
Yet she felt as if the world had darkened behind her, as if a shadow were following her. As she walked toward Customs, she stopped, swinging around, certain that footsteps right behind her were closing in. Panic almost overwhelmed her. She was convinced she was being followed, that she could feel breath—hot and fetid breath—at her nape. Chills shivered up her spine.
She thought she heard her name whispered by a deep, mocking voice.
But when she turned, there was no one near her. Busy people, bored, anxious, were hurrying through the airport. No one seemed interested in her at all.
It was night again before she reached her final destination. And there, in the exquisite historic hotel, she felt the darkness again as she walked to her room.
She locked the door securely behind her, then waited, afraid, watching the door, wanting to believe she had worked with one too many antisocial paranoid and their fears had rubbed off on her.
Nothing.
She turned away.
Then there was a sound, a clicking, as if someone were trying the door. And then again, in the wind in her mind, the whisper of her name. And something more.
Laughter.
You can’t hide. Wherever you go, I will find you….
ISBN: 978-1-55254-491-4
THE VISION
Copyright © 2006 by Heather Graham Pozzessere.
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, MIRA Books, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.
All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.
MIRA and the Star Colophon are trademarks used under license and registered in Australia, New Zealand, Philippines, United States Patent and Trademark Office and in other countries.
www.MIRABooks.com
About the Author
Heather grew up in Dade County, Florida, and attended the University of South Florida at Tampa, majoring in theater arts and touring Europe and parts of Asia and Africa as part of her studies. After college, she acted in dinner theaters, modeled, waitressed, and tended bar. After the birth of her third child, she was determined to devote her efforts to her writing: her dream. She sold her first book in 1982.
Today, this author's success is reflected not just by reader response and the over 20 million copies of her books in print, but in many other ways. In addition to being a New York Times bestselling author, Heather has received numerous awards for her novels, including over 20 trade awards from magazines such as Romantic Times and Affaire de Coeur, bestseller awards from B. Dalton, Waldenbooks, and BookRak, and several Reviewers' Choice and People's Choice awards.
Heather has appeared on Entertainment Tonight,Romantically Speaking, a TV talk show that aired nationwide on the Romance Classics cable channel, and CBS Sunday News. She has been quoted in People and USA Today, been profiled in The Nation, and featured in Good Housekeeping. Her books have been selections for the Doubleday Book Club and the Literary Guild. She has been published across the world in more than 15 languages and has published over 70 titles, including anthologies and short stories.
Somehow, this prolific author manages to juggle it all—family, career, and marriage—while reaching a level of success to which few can aspire.
Coming Next Month
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ON SALE IN AUGUST 2006
HERS TO DESIRE by Margaret Moore, HQN
HERE COMES TROUBLE by Leslie Kelly, HQN
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SUMMER LOVIN’ by Carly Phillips, HQN
CROSS MY HEART by Carly Phillips, HQN
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Heather Graham, The Vision
(Series: Harrison Investigation # 3)
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