In the mirror world.

Chapter 21

A mobster. Not just any mobster, but the infamous Al Capone. Scarface. His spirit, big as death, hovered directly above its human host who appeared no worse for wear as if it were an everyday occurrence to share your body with the spirit of a power-hungry killer mob boss.

Another chuckle and dark eyes, greedy for its prize, skipped over Captain Gregg's shoulder, capturing the sight of a struggling Carolyn who was still thrashing about under a wool blanket.

Indignation ignited a firestorm of jealous anger, burning under Daniel's flesh as it feasted on his protective nature that ran thick in his veins, guiding his every thought and action for the woman and her children.

Fury burning in his gut, the seaman stepped into the gangster's line of sight, effectively blocking Carolyn from the snake's view and, with a threatening edge to his voice, he spat, "Stay away from the woman and her children!"

A laugh, jolly yet malicious in its intent, erupted from Capone. "Whoa there, sailor man," he scowled and drew out the last two words, turning his attention to the captain. "You got brass! I like that!" Unreservedly, he floated over to within a few feet of Daniel whose fingers were curling into iron-hard fists.

"It's like dis," the gangster said, clenching down on his cigar. "That pretty package over there," inclining his head toward Carolyn, "belongs to me and my family. She's married to one of my boys, ya know. A beautiful ceremony, it was, and the bride was glowing with happiness."

Carolyn shuddered. She heard what was just said about her and could hardly believe her ears. Glowing with happiness? The words bit through her heart with the intensity of a thousand bullets rattling from a machine gun. She wasn't merely annoyed, no. Her feet kicked wildly. She was furious.

A light filled Carolyn's vision after shoving her knee into someone's crouch. The man collapsed on the floor into a fetal position and the blanket slipped off from one side. Messy locks of blonde hair dangled over her forehead and, giving a hard puff to move them, she yelled, "It's a lie, Daniel! I was forced into that marriage!"

Disgust rolled through Captain Gregg. A deeper frown creased his face, and he leaned forward to within inches of Capone's face. The man stank of whiskey, loose women, and treachery.

Daniel sneered low in his throat and his eyes blazed under a furrowed brow. "She's not going anywhere with you. Not now. Not ever."

Drawing himself up, Capone scoffed. Snapping his sausage fingers, he snarled out, "Then I got someone else that you should meet." He used the cigar out of his mouth like a pointer and shouted past Captain Gregg.

"Hey, Butch! I got a job for you!"

Turning his muscle-thick neck to one side, the Captain slid narrowed eyes to the back of the foundry, past mounds of drifting sand dotted with molten iron scraps, and back to where Carolyn, her children, Lily, and two mobsters were in a tug-of-war.

The commotion came to an abrupt end when one of the mobsters, Marty, with bulging eyes, suddenly stiffened his whole entire body like a long-dead corpse. An apparition, of sizable bulk, rose and spread as a suffocating smoke from within the human host.

Fully formed, the spirit thug reminded Daniel of the giants from fairy tale stories or Goliath from the Bible. That was it, he thought, pushing up the sleeves of his turtleneck sweater. Goliath. But then didn't that make himself David? His chest expanded, taking in a large faux breath. If he were to be David against Goliath the Philistine giant, so be it.

At nearly 9 feet in height, the brute towered over Daniel who was considered tall at 6 foot 3 inches but appeared dwarf by comparison. The spirit was shirtless where a thin nest of dirty hair stuck by grimy sweat to his chest. The multitude of scars evidenced on his torso told the tale of a lifestyle that embraced violence such as one that embraces a beloved hobby. The man looked like a walking advertisement for a surgeon's needle and thread.

His head, flanked by cauliflower ears, was also much scarred and grew no hair. One scar disfigured his left eye. The crooked nose spoke of being broken, probably many times over. Saliva oozed out from the corner of a contorted smile where certain teeth had long departed. Within a misshapen mouth, other rotting teeth leaned in and out. In conclusion, this spirit aptly called Butch was indeed exactly that. Butch was a butcher. It was something that Daniel would keep in mind.

In a blinding flash, Butch came running toward Captain Gregg after torpedoing a large antique hunting knife in his direction. Blending into a single seamless motion, Daniel half-spun his barrel chest to one side and threw his head backward where the blade grazed his beard just under his chin before lodging itself into an aged wood column behind him.

Impossible! He thought, running his calloused fingertips over the slim line under his chin that was now absent of hair. A weapon that can be wielded in both the physical and spiritual realm?

Before the seaman could expound on this enigma, the brute flew through the air, arms extended, ready to grapple its prey. Without thinking, Daniel ducked, and tucking his shoulder in, he rolled over the floor and away from his adversary. The butcher landed face-first on the dirt floor but quickly recovered to a standing position. The giant lunged toward the captain in another attempted bear-hug hold. Daniel ducked, spun and rolled between the thug's legs, then back into a fighting stance with fists raised. Eyes locked the two circled one another, both awaiting the right opportunity to strike.

Butcher ginned an ugly yellow smile. Laughter, poisoned by malice, seethed from the deformed mouth.

"Let's see what you got, little man! I have ten times your strength!"

Daniel was no fool and refused the spirit's baiting.

All at once, a small leather boot thunked against the butcher's head. Picking up the boot, he scratched the back of his skull, examined the footwear, and glanced behind him where Lily floated with arms crossed blowing raspberries at him.

It was all the distraction Daniel needed.

Jerking the embedded knife free from the column, he lunged forward and drove his fist into an uppercut straight into the diaphragm of his adversary. The giant fell a step backward and bending over at the waist, he hugged his abdomen tight. Instantly, Daniel leaped onto the back of the spirit's shoulders and forcing the head back, he sliced the blade completely through the neck. What remained of Butch the butcher turned to dust and fell to the dirt and sand floor.

Captain Gregg slew the giant and took his head off just like David slew Goliath and took his head as well. Hands braced on his knees and huffing faux breaths, Daniel lifted his bowed head and spied the surroundings. No trace of Al Capone's spirit was seen. The mobster was gone, at least for now.

Cheers of triumph sang through the air from Carolyn, her children, and Lily.

Terror widening Rick's shifty eyes, he grabbed a dazed Marty by the scruff of his jacket and hurriedly hauled him from the foundry out to where their waiting car had been hidden from sight.

From the corner of his eye, Daniel could see that he was about to be ambushed… by those, he considered his family.

"I knew you could take him, Captain Gregg!" An excited Jonathan said while mimicking Daniel's moves from the fight. He smiled and tousled the boy's hair.

"Yeah!" Candy grinned and said, sweeping in for a hug. She giggled when she spotted Lily flying in loop de loops above the captain's head.

Smoothing back her mussed hair, Carolyn drifted into her seaman's awaiting arms where there would be no hurry to leave. His one free arm curled around her shoulders, pulling her closer. He leaned over, kissed the top of her head, and breathed a heavy sigh. She growled for him in return and he smirked his appreciation.

"Are you keeping it, Daniel?" Carolyn suddenly asked.

Captain Gregg tipped his head to one side and looked her in the eyes.

"Keeping what?"

Carolyn pointed her finger at the object in his other hand. "That," she spoke in a deadpan voice.

He released her from his tender embrace. "This?" he asked, having been oblivious to the butcher's hunting knife that he had gripped in his hand.

She nodded and took a step back as if the blade might suddenly come alive.

With both hands, he studied the antique knife that appeared enormous in his grip. The captain held it up to view through the incoming rays of sunshine beaming through the foundry's smoke and dirt-soiled windows. Crude strands of leather, now dark and sticky from untold years of sweat, body oils and grime, had been wrapped tightly around the knife's lengthy hilt. Eyeballing the blade itself, he spied tiny nicks displaying themselves in a group along the edge like bad teeth on an otherwise well-bred stallion. Daniel grimaced at the obvious neglect of what was once was a finely honed weapon. One, he once more noted, could be wielded in the physical realm and in the spiritual.

An errant hint of Gregg pride sparked in Daniel's eyes and Carolyn thought certain she saw his chest swell. Arms crossing over her bosom, she moved her weight to one leg and waited none-too-patiently for his response.

Captain Gregg opened his mouth to speak but quickly closed it. Pausing, he rubbed the bearded area covering his chin before forming the next words from his mouth. Wise ghost.

"My Dearest," he stated as if engaging in a delicate balancing act. "I believe that it would prove most advantageous for me to retain this knife for myself." Before she could bring forth an objection, he raised his index finger and added, "However, I feel inclined to completely reworked and refashion the weapon for my own personal use, thereby rendering it unrecognizable from its current configuration." And with that being said, he gallantly smiled into her green eyes.

Carolyn blinked and her mouth formed an oval, but whatever she was going to say became DOA on her tongue. One corner of her lips turned down and she cocked her head slightly to one side. Are those beads of sweat on Daniel's forehead? She thought to her herself.

"Hey!" Jonathan called out as he walked a mighty strange walk over to the Captain and a snickering Carolyn. "Can we go now? I have to use a bathroom."

A hand slipped over Daniel's mouth to cover his amusement, but humor glimmered in his blue eyes. He felt a light touch on the inside area of his elbow and turned to see Carolyn's fingers had found their familiar place. This was where she belonged. Beside him. Always. Tucking the blade under his arm, he laid his hand on hers and caressed her face with his gaze.

"Where to, my dear?"

"Home." Closing her eyes, Carolyn leaned her head on his arm, and together their feet found the rhythm of a pleasant pace.

"Let's go home, Daniel."

Her words strangled his voice and he mumbled out, "Of course. The bungalow."

She squeezed his arm. "No, not the bungalow. Home, Gull Cottage, home."

Contentment unfurled the Captain's canvas, billowing out his sails for a comfortable journey back to Schooner Bay.

"As you wish, dear lady."

In front of them, Jonathan still walked an awkward step and Candy started to skip until she remembered that teenagers don't skip. Lily was floating above them doing what surely resembled the backstroke.

Into the trunk of Blair's sedan, the children tossed their belongings and then plopped down in the back seat. Lily sat between like good friends would do, however, Jonathan opted to hug the door for a quick escape once they reached a gas station.

Carolyn suggested that Daniel drive until he brought up the fact that he could lose his temporary empathic connection with her at any time and hence loose his corporeal presence which proved true just later that evening as he frustratingly tried to draw her into an embrace. "Blast!" he was heard to shout.

Instead, the Captain was able to hold his daughter and listen to her scold him in a language that even his ghostly powers were unable to translate. She appeared to be relaying to him her discontent over how long he had been gone although Daniel was certain that she was not yet able to count the days he had been absent and must surely be in error.

And Martha? Well, Martha was just being herself when she hugged everyone at least three times, cried for joy, and was determined to engorge them with whatever kind of goodies she could whip up.

At the end of the day, tummies were full, clothes were washed, crisp fresh linens were placed on warm inviting beds, and a handsome heroic ghost was preparing to stand watch over the family that resided in his home.

—

In a cozy chair next to the crackling fireplace, Carolyn lifted her knees to her chest, tucked her plush robe around her feet, and sipped a mug of hot cocoa with little marshmallows that bobbed about on the surface. Ah, chocolate! She breathed in the aroma and let it seep into the depths of her soul. Let other women have their flowers. Carolyn had and always would embrace her little chocolate fixes.

She was explaining to Daniel what in the world mobsters had to do with her and the children going missing, but the seaman seemed to be growing more vexed with each explanation given.

"So you see," Carolyn expounded while curling both hands around the mug for extra warmth, "When your Carolyn married Blair, she must not have known that he had ties to the mob."

"And when she made the discovery," The Captain said while driving a fist into his open palm, "She filed for an annulment and afterward met me." He paced in front of the blazing fire, shaking his head, then hooding his eyes he remarked in an even tone, "She never said anything about it to me. As a matter of fact, my wife avoided the subject of her brief marriage to the man altogether." Daniel turned and flames from the fireplace reflected their dance in his blues eyes. "I was under the impression that the marriage between my wife and Thompson was too painful to discuss, so I never pursued the issue. Even in my most private thoughts, I would have never guessed the syndicate to be involved."

Carolyn raised the hot cocoa to her lips, took a sip, then ran a delicate fingertip along the cup's edge. The fire spat forth with snaps and pops. It was the only thing heard between the great gaps of silence. "I suppose," she softly started to say while stretching out one leg from her foot falling asleep, "That when I and the children appeared out of nowhere, they believed that I was her and well…" Carolyn sucked in a sharp breath. "Well, it was just a terrible mistake."

"One that you and the children paid for."

She puffed her cheeks and heaved out a sigh. "I want to put all of this behind me, Daniel."

Tugging on his pant legs, Captain Gregg folded himself into a seat on the sofa. "What will you do now, Carolyn?" He asked after resting elbows on his knees and tenting his fingers.

A puzzle froze her expression. "What do you mean, what will I do now?"

"Exactly that," the seaman spoke arching an eyebrow. "You are married to Blair Thompson, are you not?" The words erupted sharper than intended and he dropped his face to the floor. "What I mean to ask is, do you intend to stay married to the man?"

The longer Carolyn was silent, the more foreboding ate away at the Captain's hopes for some kind of reconciliation between them.

She stretched both legs, placed her slippered feet on the floor, and plopped her hot cocoa on a nearby small three-legged table where she had placed a book earlier.

Looking at him from under long lashes, she quirked a corner of her mouth and questioned, "Is that what you're worried about? If I'm going to stay married to Blair?"

More silence loomed in the room like a heavy grey cloud sagging under the weight of an unanswered question. In her reply, there would either be a downpour from a ghostly broken heart, or joy from sunshine breaking through, and either way, the wait was killing him, so to speak.

Carolyn stood to her feet, walked to the sofa, and sat down next to her sea captain. She tried to take his hand but it passed harmlessly through making Daniel scrunch his eyes shut in grief.

Pausing to compose herself, she took a deep breath and gazed into his pleading blue eyes. "I don't love Blair Thompson."

For Captain Gregg, part relief was better than no relief, but being the adventurous sort that he was, pressing his luck did not seem out-of-order, and besides, not knowing more was also killing him, again.

"What about…" His hand created hurried circles in the air. "You know. Did he…?"

Eyes wide and brows lifted she responded, "Did he what?"

"Blast!" Daniel spat rising to his feet. His blue eyes flashed to an icy slate gray and his brows knitted together. "The man forced you to marry him! Did her also force you to…?" Again with more hand circles in the air. "On the wedding night, did he force you to…?"

Her jaw dropping, Carolyn leaped to her feet. "You want to know if I slept with Blair?!"

"Blast!" he roared, "I want to know if the man forced himself on you!"

"Who!? Blair!?"

"Yes! Thompson!"

"No! Blair would never force me!" Carolyn threw her hands out, palms up.

"The man kidnapped you and made you marry him, the blackguard!" Running two angry hands through his hair, Captain Gregg stamped over to the fireplace and with a loud whoosh, flames exploded up the chimney, leaving a new scorch mark on the old brick facing.

Breathing out another heavy sigh, Carolyn laced her fingers together as if to pray and brought them to her lips. She watched as the fire calmed down and hoped that the seaman was calming down as well. Leaning his right hand on the mantle, Daniel hung his head, scoured his face with his left hand, and stared into the flames. The ghost was being tortured in his heart and mind over her disappearance and subsequent marriage to Blair.

"Blast!" she quietly murmured, chiding herself for not having considered what this whole mess was doing to the man she loved. Her heart sank and her chest ached. How could she have been so blind?

"Oh, Daniel."

He turned her way and their eyes met. Moisture veiled her vision and he longed to kiss away her tears.

"I'm sorry," she said, a drop splashing on her cheek, "I should have spoken to you about that long before now."

Regret carved a deep path into his ghostly conscience, making him wince. "It is I, dear lady, who apologizes. I have allowed my imagination and temper to get the better of me." He bowed before her. "Forgive me."

Carolyn smiled at him reassuringly saying, "Why don't we sit back down and try this again, Daniel."

He smiled at her in that special way she liked. The one Daniel knew gave her tingles. Any abrasiveness that he had earlier felt, melted away. Taking a seat next to her, he slid one arm over the back of the sofa and watched as her expression changed from peaceable to resigned.

"Daniel," she moistened her lips and spoke, "It was never Blair's idea for us to be married."

The corners of his mouth curved down and the Captain dipped his chin in quiet understanding.

Shrugging her shoulders, Carolyn continued saying, "Blair doesn't love me any more than I love him, which I don't."

Daniel arched an eyebrow but held his tongue. How could any man not fall in love with this woman?

She squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. "The mob boss." All at once, her eyes went cold with a faraway look and her face grew as dark as an incoming storm. "The mob boss forced us to marry by holding Candy and Jonathan hostage."

His eyebrows formed a fierce line. "I see," Daniel ground out through clenched teeth. Lightning split the night-darkened sky, instantly flooding the rooms of Gull Cottage in a flash of white. Thunder, subdued yet impassioned growled through the foundations of the home like a lion bearing a wound from a battle with a rival male.

She could see it in his eyes. All of the anger, the desperation, the utter helplessness to prevent what had happened. And in truth, if she could see more, it haunted him with all of the intensity of those early days and weeks following the loss of his wife and her children.

Her throat felt tight and she lifted trembling fingers to the hollow of her neck as if she might be able to loosen an invisible scarf.

"Do you want to know what Blair and I did on our wedding night, Daniel?"

Eyes wide, his brows reached for the sky and his lips parted but he did not utter a word. Her voice hesitated as Carolyn tried to read his features, but she could not predict in him whether there were calm seas or if a squall was looming on the horizon.

His mustache twitched.

She bit her bottom lip.

His forehead wrinkled.

She opened her mouth, hissing out the word like a snake.

"S-s-scrabble."

Daniel flinched but recovered nicely. He blinked and straightened his spine.

"What?"

"I said, scrabble." Carolyn cleared her throat and added, "Yahtzee, too. We drank champagne. I ate a bag of M&M's. Maybe two… or three."

Daniel's face looked about as blank as a clean chalkboard.

"You and Thompson played games, drank champagne and ate confectionery chocolates?"

Arms around her middle, Carolyn gave herself a hug. Innocence twinkled in her coy green eyes.

"Yes, we did, Daniel."

The seaman's ear having that familiar sensation, summoned his fingers to work their ministration.

"And that was all?"

Inside of her slippers, Carolyn's toes curled. "Yes? And if I didn't know you better," her voice carried a challenging tone, "I would guess that you almost sound disappointed."

Daniel's jaw tightened as if in a vise. "Certainly not!" He bolted to his feet, glaring at her down the length of his nose. "That is absurd!"

With all the elegance of a newly christened queen, she rose from her seat, retied her robe, and rested hands on her hips saying, "I should hope not."

But at a moment's turn, something else beckoned Carolyn. Hands dropping to her side, her jaw grew slack. Flames, frolicking one over another within the hearth, held her vision hostage. Blinded by the memory, her sight filled with the vivid recollection of when she first awoke on this world. Shrouded in grief, this world's Daniel Gregg patiently listened to her, comforted her, and soothed her with his understanding.

Snatching her hot cocoa, Carolyn threw a slug down her throat and frowning, found that it had grown lukewarm. "There's one more thing that we did that night, Daniel," she remarked picking the marshmallows from her cup and popped them into her mouth.

"Oh?"

"Yes." She marched into the kitchen and poured the remaining beverage down the sink. "I listened, Daniel."

The seaman followed her into the kitchen and took up a place near the stove. "Listened? And what does that mean, pray tell?"

Carolyn rinsed her hands, dried them, and turning around, she folded her arms and leaned against the counter.

"I listened to what Blair had to say that night. He's had no one to confide in since all of his friends are in the mob, so I listened to him go on for hours."

"About what?"

She ambled over to the stove next to her seaman, smiled up at him, and grabbed the tea kettle that was resting on top of a quiet burner.

"Blair is head over heels in love with a young woman that he met 6 months ago at an accounting convention in Las Vegas."

With an index finger and his thumb, Captain Gregg stroked his mustache, scratched an imaginary itch on his nose, and stole a glance in Carolyn's direction while she was retreating back to the sink to fill the kettle.

"And what does that have to do with anything?"

"Daniel." She pierced him with a glare and propped her right hand on her hip bone. "I thought you were a romantic."

One could almost hear the air deflating out of the ghost's somewhat fragile ego, but he rallied, and raising himself to his highest stature he insisted, "I am, but not where Blake Thompson is concerned!"

Carolyn meandered back over to the stove and striking a wood match on the iron top, she lit the fire and puffed a breath to put the match out.

"You know," she said placing the tea kettle back on the burner, "Blair and this girl, Amy, can't be together because he's not able to extricate himself from the mob."

Captain Gregg expanded his chest, crossed his arms over it, and widened his stance.

"You're up to something."

She radiated head-to-toe smiles.

"I want us to help them, Daniel."

Heat shot through him. Has she gone mad!?

"You can't be serious, Carolyn." Annoyance clipped his words. "Are you suggesting we help the man who abducted you?"

Carolyn exhaled an audible breath. "Blair," she stated while walking over to the shelf and taking down a fresh coffee mug, "can act impulsively and though he thought to protect me, unintentionally he put us both in harm's way." She set the mug down on the table where Martha's chocolate cake called to her a velvety siren song. Thinking better of it, she grabbed the mug and set it on the work island while saying to herself, I don't need chocolate cake. I don't need chocolate cake…

"I can't really hold it against the man, Daniel," she sighed. Taking an envelope of hot cocoa, Carolyn emptied it into the mug. "I just think that it would be nice if we can help him get out of the mob so he can marry Amy."

The tea kettle whistled, shooting streams of scalding vapor into the air. A pot holder hung from a hook and Carolyn grabbed it, scrunching it into her palm. On the ball of her foot, she pivoted, then stopped in her tracks as the kettle hovered on its own above the burner. The burner flame extinguished, she saw Captain Gregg's index finger pointing directly to the kettle, which was now in motion and making a beeline to her waiting mug.

Arms falling to his side, Daniel leaned himself against the stove and crossed his ankles.

"I believe that you were wanting more hot chocolate?"

With a light touch, she tossed the potholder to the sink. Over her shoulder, she flashed him a demure smile and felt the temptation to bat her eyes.

"Thank you."

The kettle tipped and water poured from the spout into Carolyn's mug. Back to the stove, Daniel crossed one arm over his torso and the elbow of his other laid on top while he tugged his left ear.

"I won't be able to talk you out of playing matchmaker, will I?"

Steam rose from Carolyn's mug like threads of silk and she blew air across from puckered lips that captured the seaman's attention.

"It's more like a fairy godmother, really."

A hand rose to the Captain's mouth as he attempted to cover a stray snicker.

Then that would make your Blair Thompson a Blairella, would it not?"

She let go of a sudden snort. "He's not my Blair is he, now?"

He loomed closer. Daniel's tone held a slight edge of seriousness.

"Actually, the man is yours until you file for an annulment." Hands hid behind his back, one fist grapple with the other. Disgust rolled through Daniel, again, but he bit back his usual unbridled tongue and fished out his more amiable side from under a pile of frustration. "Perhaps, it would be advisable to start there first, before proceeding with the glass slippers and pumpkin coach."

Taking a sip of her chocolate, Carolyn clipped him a nod.

"You make a good point. I'll start there."