Ghosts Like it Hot Read online

“Don’t lean over too far. You know how you are.”

  “I don’t even know what you’re implying,” I sniffed. But that was a lie. I’m accident prone. I sat on the boat and gripped the side tightly before leaning over. I wasn’t taking any chances I might fall in and prove him right. “Oh my God, honey, I think I see a manatee!”

  There was a big bulk in the water.

  I focused harder on the mass, the dusk making it difficult to see clearly.

  But unless manatees wore swim trunks and had long dark hair, I was way off base.

  I screamed and jerked back. I collided with something, I have no idea what, but I spilled onto my ass and scrambled backward away from what I knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, was a dead body.

  “What?” Jake had leaped up and came rushing to my side. “Are you hurt? What happened?”

  Pointing at the water, I said, “Dead guy in the water! Not a manatee. I repeat, not a manatee.”

  “What? Are you for real?”

  That didn’t even require a response. Sure, I was just joking around. Because that was so funny. Let’s interrupt a romantic sunset cruise by pretending to see a corpse. Not.

  I was going to assume his question was rhetorical.

  Mark had heard the commotion and was making his way to the back, whatever that was called in boat terms. Jake was peering over the edge.

  “Shit.” He gave the mother of all Marner sighs. It was the sigh of a man who knew his night was shot to hell. The sigh of a man who had too much of a conscience and a detective mentality to even suggest we pretend we didn’t see anything and distract Mark.

  It crossed my mind. I’m not going to lie. For one point two seconds. Then my conscience slapped me across the face with a mental, “Get yourself together!” I couldn’t let a human being hang out in the water without notifying the authorities. That would be cruel to the man’s family.

  Plus, that was a surefire way to get myself a fast pass to hell.

  Mark squatted down and peered into my face. “What’s going on?”

  I cleared my throat and pulled myself off the deck. “I wanted to look into the water. So I did. And I saw a dead man floating in the water.”

  “What? Get out of here.”

  I would if I could.

  “Drop anchor, then call the Coast Guard,” Jake said. “This man hasn’t been in the water long. There might be a boating accident or emergency nearby.”

  Mark moved alongside of Marner and swore. “Poor fellow. Jeez. I’ll call for help.”

  “Help me get him on board, Bailey.”

  Say what? “Isn’t that disturbing the crime scene?” I asked.

  “There is no crime scene other than the body. He’s in the ocean. We can’t leave him there and risk him sinking or marine life attacking him.”

  He had a point. I shuddered at the thought. “Oh geez. Oh my God.”

  Marner turned and said, “Give me your phone.”

  I handed it to him wordlessly and he took a few pictures overboard in rapid succession. Then he put it in his pocket. He gave me an encouraging look. “You can do this. You’re tough, Bailey.”

  Not really, but nice of him to think so. I swallowed hard. My throat was constricted and my hands were trembling. “What do you want me to do?”

  “You need to jump into the water and tie rope around him so I can haul him up.”

  Hold on. “Is there an option B?” The water looked dark and impenetrable. What if there were sharks in the water? Were there sharks off Key West? I mean, there were sharks everywhere, right?

  “Option B is I jump in and you haul the body up, but I don’t think you’re strong enough to do that.”

  “Captain Mark!” I yelled. I wasn’t going in that water. No way. “We need your help!” I looked at Jake. “The two of us can haul him up. I’m sorry to be a chickenshit but I can’t go in that water.” Panic was creeping in.

  “Okay. That’s fine. Just stay calm.”

  Too late. Calm was in the rearview mirror.

  Marner was already pulling a line of rope off the side of the boat where it was looped. He handed it to me, kicked off his sandals, and disappeared over the side.

  Seeing my boyfriend drop into the drink spurred me into action. I was terrified something would happen to him, though I had no idea what. It’s not like a murderer would be treading water next to his victim. Though I suppose it could be an accident. Someone out sailing alone. I shouldn’t assume murder.

  I hauled the rope over to the side and tossed one end down to Jake, who was bobbing alongside of the body. While he started to loop it around the man, I checked the other end to make sure it was secure on the T bar it was wrapped around. It seemed like it would hold.

  Mark finally appeared by my side, apologizing. “Sorry, I was trying to get through for help and no one was responding.”

  “But they’re on their way now, right?”

  He shook his head. “I’ll try again in a minute.”

  “Start pulling him up,” Jake yelled.

  I lifted the rope and gave it a tug but I barely decreased the slack. “Mark, I need your help.”

  We joined forces and pulled again. It moved, but barely.

  I braced my foot on the boat wall, and this time, we got some movement.

  “That’s it,” Jake yelled.

  We were tugging and yanking as hard as we could, both Mark and I breathing hard, and working to get a rhythm. Together we seemed to have the combined strength of a toddler. I was concentrating so hard on winning the tug-of-war with the body that I didn’t realize Jake had climbed back on board until he moved behind me. I jumped and let out a shriek and lost my grip on the rope.

  “Oh my God! Don’t scare me like that.” I pushed my hair out of my face and tugged again.

  Jake didn’t say anything, just grabbed on to the rope as well. With his added strength, we were able to walk backward on the deck, drawing up the body slowly. Jake was dripping ocean water all over the deck and I slipped a little in my sandals, but managed to maintain my grip.

  The night was seriously not going according to plan.

  After what felt like seventy-two hours of effort, Jake (with minimal assistance from me and Mark) had the body up and over and supine on the deck. I looked away. The man was bloated and pale, his eyes open. It wasn’t a pretty sight. I did the sign of the cross.

  “What do you think happened to him?” I asked Jake.

  “He didn’t accidentally fall off a boat and drown, I can tell you that. There’s a bullet hole in the temple.”

  Damn it. “That’s not good.”

  “There are all kinds of pirates in these waters,” Mark said. “Running back and forth between here and Cuba.”

  “What? Pirates? And we’re just out here wandering around?”

  “I have a gun on me,” Mark said. The old hippie lifted his shirt and flashed a gun in his waistband.

  That was not reassuring. It just about gave me a heart attack. For all I knew, Mark was the murderer. Or wasn’t the murderer of this guy, but might be the murderer of me. Happy Freaking Vacation. You’re going to die and be eaten by marine life.

  I scanned the horizon for other boats. I only saw one way off in the distance. I wasn’t sure if that was good or bad.

  “No one is answering you?” Jake asked Mark. “We’re what, an hour out? We should just head back if you’re not getting a response. It’s going to be fully dark soon.”

  That was terrifying.

  “Make note of the coordinates so they can search this general area.” Jake peeled off his T-shirt, wrung it out, then tossed it on the bench.

  He stuck his hand in his pocket. “Shit. Bailey, I jumped in with your phone in my pocket.”

  It figured. I’d only had the phone for a couple of months. But it seemed like a minor concern when we had a corpse chilling on our boat deck. “It might still work after it dries out.”

  He handed it to me and I used it as an excuse to dash downstairs and toss it on the nightstand.
I stood in the two feet of space in our cabin and listened, standing very still. The ghost of the dead guy should be appearing any second and I wanted to be alone when he did so I could speak openly without Mark listening.

  It’s never natural to have a spirit suddenly appear, but after months of enduring pop-ins, I didn’t jump quite as high now as I did before.

  I stood and waited but nothing. No dead guy in swim trunks. I would say maybe my abilities didn’t work on the high seas but I’d seen a flight attendant at thirty thousand feet, so it didn’t seem like that should matter.

  The only thing I heard was the crash of the waves against the boat and the crank of the anchor as Mark lifted it. I went back on deck.

  “Are you sure?” Jake was asking Mark.

  “Positive. Everyone knows everyone at the marina. This is Austin Columbia.” He glanced down at the body and shook his head. “I’ve spent hours hanging out with him. I’m not likely to confuse someone else for him.”

  “He’s local? Docks his boat at the marina?”

  Mark nodded. “Yes. Him and his wife. They’re nice kids. About your age. His wife, Jamie, teaches yoga. They’re you know, like millennials. Gave up the rat race in Boston to come down here and sail. They rent out their boat like I do, but they stay on board with their renters.” Mark cleared his throat. “I can’t believe this. Jesus, poor kid. And where the hell is Jamie?”

  We were heading back toward shore and I was very relieved about that. I swallowed hard and took a look at who we now knew was Austin Columbia. He did look young. I would actually put him at his mid-twenties. What a total waste. I imagined his parents getting the forthcoming phone call and felt horrible for them.

  “We’ll see if their boat is in their slip at the marina,” Jake said. “Hopefully that’s where she is. Do you remember noticing if it was there when we left?”

  Mark thought but then shook his head. “I didn’t notice. Their slip is two rows over and behind mine so I wasn’t really paying attention to that direction.”

  It was a very long boat ride back, with our unexpected guest. Not to mention I was paranoid that Mark had a gun in his waistband and I was on the lookout for pirates. It was a threat I’d never considered.

  Mark did manage to get in touch with authorities, and when we finally arrived back at the marina, the police and the Coast Guard were waiting for us.

  I couldn’t get off that boat fast enough. The second my feet hit the dock I felt instantly better. Rubbing my arms, I answered questions as carefully and succinctly as possible. Men with gloves boarded the sailboat while Marner explained to them what had happened, flashing his own badge so they would take him seriously.

  “When did you arrive in Key West?” one of the officers asked.

  I wasn’t even sure who the hell he was. No one had been overly concerned with explaining who they were or what their role was. “This afternoon. One o’clock. So far, not a great impression of Key West,” I said, flashing him a weak smile.

  He looked at me like I was a moron. “Sorry about that.”

  He didn’t sound sorry. Like, not even close to sorry. He sounded bored as shit.

  “Why were you on this boat?”

  “Captain Mark rents it on Airbnb. My boyfriend booked it about six weeks ago. We were supposed to stay two nights.” Which I had no intention of doing now. Even if the cops said it was fine. Nope. Hell, no.

  “Whose idea was it to sail out to the area you did?”

  “Captain Mark. He offered a sunset sail. We paid extra for it. The time, the direction, all of that were him. We’re just tourists.”

  He glanced up at me from where he was studying something on his phone. Was I boring him? Then fine. Let us go.

  “Did you know the victim?”

  Was he for real? I shook my head. “No. I’ve never been to Key West before.”

  It was then that I realized same-said victim’s ghost had decided to finally make his appearance. He was behind Officer Who-the-hell-ever and was looking much perkier than he did lying on the boat deck. He had dark curly hair and a lean but muscular build. He looked disoriented but not overly upset. He was waving to me. I ignored him. I couldn’t look like a nut in front of Officer Whoever.

  “You were kidnapped?” the police officer asked me.

  Shit. He was googling me. That’s what he was doing on his phone. That seemed totally unnecessary.

  “Yes, I was. Though I think it’s considered still ‘allegedly’ given he hasn’t gone to trial yet.”

  “What does that mean? You faked it?”

  “What? No! I was trying to be legally correct, but I was one hundred percent kidnapped. I was drugged and tied to patio furniture in his weird little lake cave. I didn’t fake anything. And why are you asking me about something that was traumatizing to me? It has nothing to do with me being in the wrong place at the wrong time today.” I frowned at him. “Or maybe the right place in the right time because if we hadn’t found this poor man, who would have? The whole thing is horrible.”

  He made a non-committal sound. He was in his mid-forties, with salt-and-pepper hair, and he was wearing a blue polo shirt with visible sweat stains in the armpits. He was still scrolling through his phone. “How long have you and your boyfriend been together?”

  I crossed my arms over my chest and remained silent. This wasn’t social hour. He had an angle and frankly it stunk and I wasn’t going along with it.

  Austin’s ghost was experimenting with his lack of physical form. He was curiously putting his hand in and out of the detective’s back. The man kept shifting like something was bothering him. He reached around and scratched his back and waved his hand, like he thought maybe it was an insect landing on him.

  When I didn’t answer, he finally looked up from his phone. “It’s not a hard question. How long have you been together?”

  “Awhile. How long have you been married?” Since we were getting to know each other.

  His eyebrows shot up, but he actually answered. “Eight years. Second wife.”

  “How nice. Did Captain Mark tell you he knows the victim? Is anyone looking for his wife?”

  “We have everything under control.”

  “Can I retrieve my luggage? Even if you say we can stay on this boat, I don’t want to. I can’t get the image of that poor man out of my head.”

  “Not yet. I’ll let you know.”

  They had removed Austin Columbia’s body off the deck and whisked him away while I was being cornered by the detective. I was grateful for the cover of darkness so I could pretend they were just hauling sails away instead of a body. On the other hand, the dark added to a sinister vibe. They all had flashlights and a single floodlight directed onto the boat itself. There was a crowd of curious people standing around, whispering and asking questions. The police had the dock cordoned off.

  “What’s your name again?” I asked him.

  “Austin,” the ghost said.

  Not who I meant.

  The detective glanced at me in surprise. “I’m Detective Holmes.”

  “Thank you. Detective Holmes, are we done? This has been very upsetting.” I wanted to go and buy a vape and have a nice long drag. I’d refused to bring mine with me because I didn’t want to default to casually using it and now I was regretting the willpower I’d had when I’d been optimistic this would be a relaxing romantic vacation.

  “Give me a minute,” he said. “I’ll let you know.” He wandered away with a casualness that screamed chill.

  Maybe it was a Keys thing, but he didn’t seem particularly concerned about this murder. He seemed more interested in questioning me about a totally unconnected matter. I was annoyed and wanted to rescue my luggage of cute shoes and sundresses and get the hell out of there.

  Austin watched him walk away, then shifted his hand to go right into my stomach. “Don’t do that!” I snapped, at the end of my rope. “That’s rude.” No one touches my stomach. I need to do crunches and don’t, so it’s wobblier than I would l
ike it to be. Plus, I was stressed out.

  His eyes widened. “Sorry,” he said sheepishly. “I didn’t think you could see me.”

  “That doesn’t make it okay. In fact, it makes it worse.” I should be more sympathetic to the fact that he had just died, but it had been hours since I’d eaten those conch fritters and hunger mingled with frustration and fear. There was a killer on the loose, after all.

  Austin shrugged. “I’m dead, right? That’s what’s going on here.”

  I nodded, realizing I couldn’t really have a full-blown conversation with him in front of a dozen people.

  “And you are the only one who can hear me?”

  I nodded again.

  He turned and looked back at the boat. “Why was I on the Wind Jammer instead of my boat? Where’s my wife?”

  I stayed silent because I didn’t know the answer to either question.

  All of a sudden, Austin seemed to realize the enormity of his situation. “Why am I dead? Where’s Jamie?” He swore and ran his fingers through his hair, tugging at the roots. “Please tell me Jamie isn’t dead.”

  “I don’t know,” I murmured under my breath. “Look. I’ll see if I can find out what’s going on and I’ll talk to you later. I can’t talk here with all these people. They’ll think I’m insane talking to myself.”

  Determined to retrieve our belongings, I marched down the dock and found my boyfriend. “What’s going on?” I asked him when he glanced over at me.

  “The victim’s boat isn’t in their slip and witnesses here at the marina said they left this morning. Their dock neighbors seemed to think they had passengers with them.”

  “That’s not good.” I really wanted to take Jake’s hand but I couldn’t do that to him in front of all these cops and evidence techs. “What are we going to do? That detective told me I can’t get our luggage.”

  “Why do you need our luggage? We should be able to stay on the boat. It’s not a crime scene.”

  I shot him a look. “You seriously want to sleep on this boat after all of this?”

  “Bailey, it’s almost nine o’clock. Where are we going to find a hotel at this hour?”

  “It’s a vacation destination. There are hotels everywhere.”