tour. Reaching into the refrigerator, she grabbed three six-packs of water to take out to the parlor.
The Taylor family had been joined by Maddie, Belinda, Tobie and Josiah, the Rosewoods. The newcomers asked about the Siren’s history, and Hannah assured them that she would talk about the house when the others arrived. Agent Samson, she saw, seemed comfortable with everyone. He was capable of casual, friendly conversation—just not so much with her.
Two couples, a lone college student and a family of three arrived, completing the group of sixteen.
“It happened out back, right? Really close to the house?” George Taylor asked.
Hannah felt a cold chill seep over her. It was natural, she supposed. The murder had taken place practically in her yard. Tourists whose interests ran to a ghost tour were bound to ask about it.
Once again, she didn’t have to say anything, because Dallas stepped in. “In the alley that runs behind the house,” he said. “But the police are still working the scene, plus it’s cordoned off, so it will help if we just steer clear of the area for now.”
“You a cop?” someone asked him.
“No,” he said, and smiled at Hannah. “But we’re all here for the history and legends that Miss O’Brien is about to disclose, so why don’t we give her our attention and let the authorities handle the information about the murder?”
“Of course,” George said, clearly sorry and slightly ashamed he had spoken.
“I’ll start out with the house we’re in,” Hannah said quickly. “Please, take a bottle of water from the table over there and grab a seat.” Her guests obeyed; those who didn’t find room on the sofa or nab one of the armchairs—mostly the younger members of the party—simply found comfortable spots on the floor. “The Siren of the Sea is named in tribute to the original owner—a merchant who followed the siren call of the sea, at least until the tragedy that befell his ship, which went down in the early 1850s. I’m sure you’ve already heard some Key West history, but this house figures in that history—as will a lot more of the places we visit tonight—so I’ll briefly recap. The Spanish were the first to arrive on this island, which they called Cayo Hueso, or Island of Bones. That’s because the bones of the indigenous people lay everywhere. When the English arrived, they bastardized the name to Key West. In 1763 Key West passed into the hands of the British for a mere twenty years before it was returned to Spanish control.
“By the early 1820s, when Key West became an American territory, piracy was raging on the high seas. Commodore David Porter planted the American flag here on the island, complained about the pirates and was ordered to subdue them. He immediately instituted martial law, something that didn’t go over well with the citizens, mainly fishermen and divers who either called the island home or made use of its resources. The pirates were pretty quickly expunged by the Mosquito Squadron, a fleet of small ships that Porter commanded. After that, salvage became the order of the day.
“There are many stories about so-called wreckers setting up lights to lure ships onto the reefs, but most of those stories are fiction. The wreckers of Key West didn’t need to create any maritime disasters. The shoals and reefs off the shore were deadly all on their own.
“When Ian Chandler arrived in the early 1840s he built this house, and in its day it was considered an appropriate residence for a prosperous businessman. Mr. Chandler wasn’t a wrecker, of course. He was, as I said, a merchant, one in possession of a number of ships. His Wind and the Sea was a three-masted schooner, a beautiful ship—as you can see by the painting above the fireplace. In September of 1857 the Wind and the Sea sailed from her berth in Key West carrying all kinds of goods, cigars from Cuba, sponges from the local waters and jewelry from workshops in Colombia. She’d barely left
The Taylor family had been joined by Maddie, Belinda, Tobie and Josiah, the Rosewoods. The newcomers asked about the Siren’s history, and Hannah assured them that she would talk about the house when the others arrived. Agent Samson, she saw, seemed comfortable with everyone. He was capable of casual, friendly conversation—just not so much with her.
Two couples, a lone college student and a family of three arrived, completing the group of sixteen.
“It happened out back, right? Really close to the house?” George Taylor asked.
Hannah felt a cold chill seep over her. It was natural, she supposed. The murder had taken place practically in her yard. Tourists whose interests ran to a ghost tour were bound to ask about it.
Once again, she didn’t have to say anything, because Dallas stepped in. “In the alley that runs behind the house,” he said. “But the police are still working the scene, plus it’s cordoned off, so it will help if we just steer clear of the area for now.”
“You a cop?” someone asked him.
“No,” he said, and smiled at Hannah. “But we’re all here for the history and legends that Miss O’Brien is about to disclose, so why don’t we give her our attention and let the authorities handle the information about the murder?”
“Of course,” George said, clearly sorry and slightly ashamed he had spoken.
“I’ll start out with the house we’re in,” Hannah said quickly. “Please, take a bottle of water from the table over there and grab a seat.” Her guests obeyed; those who didn’t find room on the sofa or nab one of the armchairs—mostly the younger members of the party—simply found comfortable spots on the floor. “The Siren of the Sea is named in tribute to the original owner—a merchant who followed the siren call of the sea, at least until the tragedy that befell his ship, which went down in the early 1850s. I’m sure you’ve already heard some Key West history, but this house figures in that history—as will a lot more of the places we visit tonight—so I’ll briefly recap. The Spanish were the first to arrive on this island, which they called Cayo Hueso, or Island of Bones. That’s because the bones of the indigenous people lay everywhere. When the English arrived, they bastardized the name to Key West. In 1763 Key West passed into the hands of the British for a mere twenty years before it was returned to Spanish control.
“By the early 1820s, when Key West became an American territory, piracy was raging on the high seas. Commodore David Porter planted the American flag here on the island, complained about the pirates and was ordered to subdue them. He immediately instituted martial law, something that didn’t go over well with the citizens, mainly fishermen and divers who either called the island home or made use of its resources. The pirates were pretty quickly expunged by the Mosquito Squadron, a fleet of small ships that Porter commanded. After that, salvage became the order of the day.
“There are many stories about so-called wreckers setting up lights to lure ships onto the reefs, but most of those stories are fiction. The wreckers of Key West didn’t need to create any maritime disasters. The shoals and reefs off the shore were deadly all on their own.
“When Ian Chandler arrived in the early 1840s he built this house, and in its day it was considered an appropriate residence for a prosperous businessman. Mr. Chandler wasn’t a wrecker, of course. He was, as I said, a merchant, one in possession of a number of ships. His Wind and the Sea was a three-masted schooner, a beautiful ship—as you can see by the painting above the fireplace. In September of 1857 the Wind and the Sea sailed from her berth in Key West carrying all kinds of goods, cigars from Cuba, sponges from the local waters and jewelry from workshops in Colombia. She’d barely left
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