but the sea by night, the soft sound of the gentle waves washing the shore, a nearby palm bent ever so slightly in homage to the breeze.
She went still, looking around, listening.
Still nothing. She told herself she needed to get a grip. She had never been the cowardly type, and stories were just that: stories. There were real dangers in life, but she had always dealt with them. She didn’t walk through dangerous neighborhoods alone at night. She carried pepper spray, and she’d learned how to use it. She even knew how to shoot, since their friends included several cops, who’d taken her to the shooting range and taught her how to handle a gun, though she didn’t choose to keep one, since her house had an alarm system.
So why was she panicking?
Because in her heart of hearts, no matter what anyone said, she was certain she had seen a skull. And it hadn’t belonged to any long-dead pirate.
No one nearby, no sounds now. She still had to check on the girls.
First she looked down the beach. All the fires were out, and she could see the tents, silent in the night. Keith and his buddies had tied a hammock to a couple of palms, where it swung ever so slightly in the breeze. Down from them, another group of tents, and farther still, a larger tent, all of them quiet and dark.
She hurried over to the girls’ tent and looked in, her heart in her throat. But both of them were in the second of the two little rooms, and they were soundly sleeping. Their light was still on, turning their small bedroom into an oasis and everything around it into a black hole.
She exhaled in relief and started backing out—straight into something solid, large.
In her, terror rose and she screamed.
* * *
Keith heard the scream and froze, his blood congealing at the terror in that shrill sound.
In a split second, he was back in action.
The scream had come from the beach.
Beth!
The light ahead went out, but he ignored it and turned, tearing through the brush, desperate to reach her.
* * *
She let out a second, terrified scream; then she swung around, ready to fight to the death on behalf of the girls.
There was no need.
“Dammit, Beth,” a voice swore fiercely in the night. “What the hell are you doing?”
She blinked, drawing back with just seconds to spare before giving her brother a black eye.
“Ben?”
“Who the hell did you expect?”
“You scared me to death,” she accused him.
“What’s going on?” Amber asked nervously, rubbing sleep from her eyes as she crawled from the bedroom.
Kim followed, and the four of them wound up in the small outer room of the tent, tripping over one another.
“Nothing,” Ben said irritably.
Just then, as Amber tried to stand, she bumped one of the poles and the tent collapsed on them.
Ben tried never to swear around his daughter, but tangled in the nylon, tasting sand, Beth could hear him breaking his rule beneath his breath.
“It’s all right. The tent just fell,” she heard herself protesting.
But when she twisted to free herself, she only became more entangled.
Then the fabric was lifted from her, and, looking up, she saw the face of Keith Henson, tense and taut as he stared down at her.
“What the hell is going on?” he demanded curtly.
“Nothing,” she snapped.
“You screamed.”
By then Ben had managed to escape the mess of poles and nylon and make it to his feet. He was shaking his head disgustedly.
“Sorry, everyone.”
When she looked around, still on her back, she saw that everyone was there, flashlights shining. Had she really screamed that loudly?
Well, of course she had.
And she was still flat on her back in an oversize T-shirt riding up her thighs, staring up at everyone. Just as the thought occurred to her, Keith reached a hand down to her. At that particular moment, she didn’t think twice about accepting it.
His grip was powerful. She was on her feet before she knew it.
“What is going on?” Amanda demanded, swiping back an errant piece of blond hair. Even at night, Beth noticed dejectedly, Amanda looked great. Like a soap-opera character who awoke in the morning with perfect makeup and shiny teeth.
“Are you all right?” Hank asked, polite as always.
Roger, definitely the oldest in the crowd, set an arm on his daughter’s shoulder and looked over at Beth, smiling, as well. “Maybe we should avoid ghost stories at night,” he said easily.
She tried to smile. And then apologize. “I’m really sorry. I woke up, and went to check on the girls. And then, backing out, I ran into my brother, who was apparently checking on why I was checking on the girls. There were too many of us in too small a space. I guess I woke everyone. I’m sorry.” Except, of course, she was certain that she hadn’t awakened everyone.
Someone had already been up and creeping around the island.
Who?
It was impossible now to tell, because all of them were there. Staring at her.
Amber started to giggle. Beth stared at her, brows raised.
“Oh, Aunt Beth, I’m sorry, but it is funny.”
“Yeah, a real hoot,” Ben muttered.
“Hey, let’s just get the tent back up, huh?” Keith suggested.
Kim stared at him, obviously fascinated. “Oh, sure, thanks.”
“I can manage—” Beth began.
“Take the help when it’s offered, honey. Then maybe we can all get some sleep.” For once Amanda spoke without malice. There was even a teasing tone to her words.
Ben smiled. “Keith, if you’ll give me a hand, we’ll have this back up in two minutes.” He cleared his throat. “Beth, you’re in the way.”
“Excuse me.”
“Me, too,” Amanda said, and yawned. “I’m going back to bed. Dad, want to walk me back? Hank? Gerald?”
“If you guys are all set, we’ll go catch a little more sleep, too,” Sandy said.
“We’re fine. Good night all,” Ben told them.
Once again they parted for the night. Or what was left of it. Glancing at her watch, Beth saw that it was around four in the morning.
The girls’ tent was quickly repositioned, and their group, too, was ready to try for a few more hours of sleep.
Ben thanked Keith, as did the girls. “Hey, Aunt Beth. You could bring your sleeping bag in here, and then you wouldn’t have to worry about us,” Amber said.
“I’ll give you guys your privacy,” Beth told her, smiling.
Keith was staring at her, his gaze intent, as if he was trying to read something in her expression.
Then he smiled easily, without suspicion. “You all right?”
“Yes, fine.”
“I’m sorry if I scared you with my story.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not afraid of ghosts.” She couldn’t help the feeling that her eyes