“Sorry. I didn’t know.”
“How could you? Why would you?”
He shrugged. “I guess she didn’t mention me then. We dated for a while. It was a long time ago. We were both just kids. Did she marry someone?”
“No.” Despite my earlier resolution to confront him, I wasn’t sure how far I wanted this conversation to go. It was crossing over into part of my life that I wasn’t comfortable sharing with him yet. I didn’t even want to think what Gramps would say if he knew Danny Evans was having a casual conversation with me about Mom in Missing Pieces.
“I’m sorry.” He backed down. “I don’t know you well enough to ask you this kind of stuff, I guess. You’re just a lot like Jean. She was easy to talk to.”
“Sure.” I added some honey to the tea but didn’t sit down to drink it.
“Anyway.” He got to his feet and hooked his fingers in the pockets of his well-worn jeans. “I just came by to say thanks. And, I admit I was a little curious about you. I’ll see you around, Dae. Next time, the rum and Coke is on me.”
I realized after he was gone that I’d been holding my breath, hoping he wouldn’t guess the truth. The connection was there—he couldn’t see it yet. How was I going to feel about it when he could?
I took my tea and sank gratefully down on my sofa—only to jump up an instant later, emptying my cup as I sat on my ghost pirate’s lap.
He winked and grinned at me, gold tooth showing on the right side of his mouth. “Aw, we ain’t that close related, dearie. The ladies favored me when I was alive. No reason we couldn’t have a little fun, even though you’re a mite scrawny for my taste.”
“Don’t even go there!” I warned, not sure what I could do to prevent it, since I couldn’t stop him from being there at all. “Never mind. We’re going next door. Shayla has to know some way to get rid of you.”
“Look, girl, there’s a very easy answer to you getting rid of me. You’re the last of my line—far as I can tell. I need yer help with the kind of thing only a relation can do. You do that, and I’m gone. Poof! Not like I want to be half alive, half in the grave in this foul time. The air stinks like bilge water, and the women have no rounding to them. What’s there to make a man feel welcome here?”
The shop door flew open and Shayla stalked inside without bothering to close the door behind her. “I knew it! I knew I sensed a presence here somewhere. Dae, what have you taken up with? Haven’t I warned you about messing around with things you don’t understand?”
Chapter 18
“Me?” I put down my teacup. “What are you talking about? He was in one of those spirit balls that came from the séance. In case you didn’t notice—he’s not my mother.”
Shayla frowned, brows knitting over her dramatically made-up dark eyes. “I don’t know how that’s possible. I was very specific. Not just any spirit could come through like that.”
“He says we’re related through my mother’s side of the family.”
“Well, of course! That makes perfect sense.”
“I’m glad you think so. But you haven’t heard the best of it yet. Shayla Lily, spiritual advisor—meet Rafe Masterson, hanged pirate who cursed Duck.”
“That’s an old wives’ tale,” Rafe objected.
“A pirate?” Shayla giggled and pranced around like a teenager. “How exciting!”
“Shayla—”
“Pleasure to meet you, beautiful lady.” Rafe sketched an elegant bow to her. “Is that a taste of the old spirits, from the islands, I feel about you? I had a friend—a very good friend—from Barbados who knew the spirits well. She was sweet and dark as good rum, like you, wench. A lovely prize for the taking.”
I was getting impatient with this mutual admiration society. “All of this is very nice, but can we get rid of him or not?”
“He’s amazing,” Shayla said. “I don’t know why you wouldn’t want to keep him. He could help you identify old stuff that you find.”
“He’s not a puppy,” I reminded her, even though I was glad she was able to see and hear him too. “And I don’t want him hanging around.”
Shayla walked around him with her eyes closed and presumably her mojo working. “I’m not sure,” she said finally. “We can try. But blood ties are strong.”
“Now wait a minute,” Rafe interrupted. “I have a valid reason for being here. This isn’t a lark for me, ladies. I need a relation to help me clear my name.”
“Clear your name?” I laughed. “Clear it of what? Everyone knows you did terrible things. You were hanged as a pirate because of them.”
“I was,” he agreed. “But I wasn’t a pirate when that unfortunate event took place. And I had papers of pardon from the governor himself.”
I thought about what Mark Samson had said about Rafe. Maybe he was right. But having a large pirate ghost tag along with me everywhere I went wasn’t exactly my idea of a good time. There had to be another way.
“Let’s say you’re telling the truth,” I said. “How about you go back to your grave and I look into it for you.”
“Why would I take yer word for what you’ll do when you are so eager to get rid of me? I wasn’t born yesterday.”
“Because otherwise Shayla will make you go away for good and you might never get your name cleared.” Although what difference that would make after all these years was beyond me. “At least if I promise to investigate the history of your death, you have a shot.”
He stroked his chin. “I don’t think so. Not that I want to be here, but this is important to me. And your friend here doesn’t seem too sure she can get rid of me at all. Besides, I can help you find who murdered the woman at the old house. Ye need me too, girl.”
“We don’t know yet if she was murdered at all,” I told him. “But thanks for the offer.”
“I know,” he assured me. “I can smell it a league away.”
“I thought you said that was an accident, Dae?” Shayla asked.
“It probably was an accident. She shouldn’t have been out there during the storm.”
“An accident,” Rafe scoffed. “If it was an accident, then I don’t know gold from dross.”
“Okay. Who killed her?” I asked the pirate ghost.
“That I don’t know—but I could be helpful in the search for the devil who done the deed,” he said with great confidence. “It’s the smell of blood. T’would be all over him.”
I thought about his offer. Maybe he knew something the rest of us didn’t. He was a ghost, and ghosts were supposed to know things—see things we couldn’t from the other side. And Shayla seemed really uncertain about getting rid of him.
And I supposed I could look into the matter of his history, since Mark had already said much the same thing. The usual Duck history must be missing some facts if suddenly Rafe Masterson was the wronged party in his hanging.
I still didn’t believe he was really related to me. But it could prove interesting finding out for sure and possibly rewriting part of that Duck history.
“All right,” I agreed finally. “I’ll help you, and you can help me. But we need some ground rules.”
“I don’t take to rules well,” he growled, dark eyes fierce.
“That’s your choice.” I smiled at Shayla. “Any time you want to get rid of him—”
“All right! All right! You made your case.” He paced about one inch above the floor. “Ye drive a hard bargain, girl, and that’s no lie. What do you want of me?”
“You stay out of my private life—no standing around while I’m sleeping or hanging out in the bathroom for any reason with me. You have to keep your distance. And no starting up conversations or making demands while I’m with people who might think I’m crazy talking to you.”