Ghost Writer(91)

There was a tremor as Minton walked through the table to Shore. Liquids vibrated in their vessels, though I doubt many of the living noticed. Minton reached out for Shore in almost the same way that Shore had reached out for me. Both disappeared.

The ghosts retreated, to my great relief. They didn't feel suffocating anymore. I think that was Shore's doing. I could even get used to the cold. But it was hard maintaining my eye contact with the living when I had to look through semitransparent figures.

“Minton left the station. I doubt he intended to survive, but he did. There might be someone left who remembers him coming to shore. Tracking him down under the surname Neville should be easier.”

“I’m more interested in corroborating your information about Mitchell Shore,” said Tinsdale.

“Did you suspect him?” asked Campbell.

Tinsdale shook his head. “The best guess of Naval Intelligence at the time was that there was a Soviet agent aboard the station. Based on Soviet movement at the time, they could have been waiting for a signal from their operative to steal the disabled vessel. Of course, you didn’t hear that from me.”

That struck me as a bit pat, but I wasn’t about to summon Shore’s ghost to find out.

I turned to Dora. “Maybe you can get Tim Neville to repeat what his father told him on his death bed. I’m sure there’s more to learn.”

She nodded. “It won't all come out at once. He was more open with you because he thought he was going to kill you. It will be an interesting challenge.”

Tinsdale grunted. “You are assuming I will allow you to interview a federal agent.”

Campbell chimed in on cue. “Mr. Neville attacked a Canadian citizen and is currently in my custody, where he will stay for now. Besides, Dr. Leland is one of the foremost forensic psychologists in the world. Why not use her expertise?”

Dora, of course, had to add her two cents. I turned my attention to Mary Lou who was explaining to Tracy how I felt the shape of Minton's words by tracing my finger over his scribbles. They were discussing how to repeat the experiment.

“Tired, Madame Kirby?”

“Exhausted! Also hungry. Chief Gravell, do you happen to know what's for dessert?”

He signalled a server over, listened, smiled and sent him away.

“Crème Caramel, Madame Kirby. I asked him to bring you one now and one to sick bay after you see the doctor.”

I smiled and nudged his knee with mine.



I spent the night in sick bay. Once pain killers were administered, it didn't matter that the bed wasn't very comfortable. It was better than sleeping in the bed I almost died on. To make sure I got to sleep, Gravell stayed with me and told me another story about his grandmother. I drifted off with my hand in his, his hypnotic voice sending me into dreams of soft brown eyes, strong arms, and really good chocolate.

After breakfast, Captain Campbell dropped by to invite me for a walk on deck. We started by looking out on the other vessels. We didn't bother with idle speculation about what would happen next. He probably knew and I, for the moment, didn't really care. We maintained a companionable silence while we walked around to the other side before stopping in my favourite place. Then the captain leaned sideways against a post and waited until I returned his gaze.

“I missed the boat, didn't I?”

I hesitated, not wanting to risk misunderstanding. He clarified.

“Somewhere between throwing your arms around me and now, you lost interest.”

I blushed. He was right. The moment I found out that I had been set up as bait for Tim, I lost interest. But, it had been fading before that.

“You should have told me about Tim,” I said, opting for honesty.

“Does Gravell tell you everything?”

I shot him an incredulous stare. “As if! He's a spook for heaven's sake.”

That made him smile in spite of himself.

I continued in the same light vein. “He wouldn't tell me the time of day if he didn't think I had good cause to know. I'm sure he would have gone along with setting me up as bait, if you had included him in your plans. The difference is he would have let me know I was bait. I wouldn't have been blind to the risk. And I would’ve accepted that risk to get answers.”

It was his turn to blush, but he also took the high road. “I'm sorry. You're right. You should have been told.”

I smiled, then chuckled as a song came to mind.

“What?” he asked.

“Gershwin,” I said. “Let's kiss and make up. No need to break up. For I need you and you need me.”

He laughed and held out his hand. “Friends?”

“Friends.”





Chapter Forty-Two ~ The End?



We raised Arctic Station Alpha. The research team was given almost free access to every part of the ship…right after NCIS was through with it. Dora and I started outlining the book while we waited. With Tim Neville arrested, I was allowed to rejoin the émil Gagnan.

The ghosts came with me all except Mitchell Shore. I never saw him after he tried to scare me to death. I suppose he moved on. Whether or not light was involved, I can't say.

I didn't see Golanger and Boreman much, but Minton, Margolo, and Naire stayed close, and Kant and Dawes always showed up when I was writing. It was like having a committee looking over my shoulder while I worked. I had a feeling I wasn't going to get shut of them until the book was complete. By then, I'd probably miss them.