(God rest his soul) had told her the closest town was Bath, some sixty miles northwest. No matter. She’d walk twice that far if that’s what it took to hire a horse and get home.
Of course, with a sense of orientation as bad as hers, she probably would have to walk twice as far. At least she had new boots.
What was that, flickering up ahead? There, in the shadows between the giant’s teeth. Another person! Thank God. Maybe he could direct her away from this macabre village and back to Moonseed Manor.
“Sir!” she shouted. “Sir, please!”
He glanced up as if as shocked to see her at the perimeter of the village. Or perhaps any inhabitant of this godforsaken countryside would be startled to see a woman garbed in a proper morning dress. This simple creature had probably never even seen a mirror.
He was short, stocky, wide. Possessed of a bald pate and an unfortunate ginger-colored beard. He dressed in dull black boots spotted with muck. But he was human and a local, which meant he could help her get out of there.
“Sir!” she called again and sprinted in his direction. “Please!”
When he stepped into the sunlight, his dark form did not get any clearer. His bearded face was as smudged and indistinct as when still in shadow.
She really needed to take better care of her spectacles.
He darted toward her so rapidly his feet did not touch the sand. In fact—his legs did not seem to be moving at all. Yet he came ever closer, faster than should be possible.
Susan slowed down, worried they were about to collide.
He closed the distance between them.
She crossed her arms over her face and braced for impact. Her shadow trembled before her on the pink-hued sand.
He cast no shadow at all.
She glanced back up just in time for him to run right into her. Or rather . . . through her. Her lungs sucked in salty air as a cold, wet breeze blew straight through her bones. She whipped around to face the running man, her heart sputtering in her chest.
He was gone. The beach was empty. She was alone.
Susan swallowed and hugged herself tight, arms shaking. There was only one logical explanation for a man to vanish in the breeze after walking through her body. Moonseed Manor wasn’t being haunted after all.
She was.
Chapter 3
Evan stared at the empty captain’s chair in disbelief.
First, the pirate ship had mysteriously disappeared from shore and docked itself in the secret cave the crew used to load and unload cargo. Now that Evan had found the ship, Timothy’s corpse had disappeared from the wardroom. How was he supposed to have a burial without a body? Evan made another slow round of the ship.
No little brother. No crew. No answers.
What the devil was he to do now? No sense going back to Ollie’s. Whatever secrets that brute knew, he wasn’t telling. Besides, he’d been standing right in front of Evan when the ship decided to mosey down the coast and anchor itself in the hidden cave.
Evan checked the current log. Empty. No—not empty. A missing page. Damn it.
He would have to talk to the captain. Except you didn’t find the captain. The captain found you. And without his brother’s body to back up his claims, what precisely was Evan going to say?
The boat was back. He was slated to sail this Friday. All four of them together—him, Timothy, Red, and Ollie. But they’d be missing one this time. Maybe even more than one, if Red and the rest of the crew weren’t here either. Hell, someone had to have steered the damn thing and delivered all the cargo. Had to’ve been Red.
If that drunken sod had the slightest culpability in Timothy’s death, Evan would kill him on sight. That’d leave just him and Ollie to do a four-person job . . . but vengeance would be well worth pulling a little extra weight. Even if the captain forced them to sail with a pair of scalawags from the other crew. Those cutthroat knaves took untrustworthiness to a hazardous level. Even for pirates.
First things first. Before he could