A Timely Vision
Page 1
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Acknowledgements
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
PRAISE FOR A Timely Vision
“A Timely Vision grabbed my attention on page one . . . Puzzles are unraveled and secrets spilled in a fast-paced paranormal mystery full of quirky characters you’ll want as friends.”
—Elizabeth Spann Craig, author of Pretty Is as Pretty Dies
“A delightful yarn! Few amateur sleuths are as charming as this psychic-mayor sleuth in a small coastal town where murder stalks the dunes and ghosts roam the Outer Banks.”
—Patricia Sprinkle, author of What Are You Wearing to Die?
PRAISE FOR Wicked Weaves
“Offers a vibrant background for the mysterious goings-on and the colorful cast of characters.”
—Kaye Morgan, author of Ghost Sudoku
“[A] new, exciting . . . series . . . Part of the fun of this solid whodunit is the vivid description of the Renaissance Village; anyone who has not been to one will want to go . . . Cleverly developed.”
—Midwest Book Review
“Joyce and Jim Lavene have teamed up for yet another terrific mystery series . . . A feast for the reader . . . Character development in this new series is energetic and eloquent; Jessie is charming and intelligent, with . . . saucy strength.”
—MyShelf.com
“A promising new series set at a Renaissance faire . . . Interesting juxtaposition between the present and the past and the real and the fantastic . . . Entertaining and vivacious characters.”
—Romantic Times
“I cannot imagine a cozier setting than Renaissance Faire Village, a closed community of rather eccentric—and very interesting—characters, [with] lots of potential . . . A great start to a new series by a veteran duo of mystery authors.”
—Cozy Library
PRAISE FOR THE PEGGY LEE GARDEN MYSTERIES Perfect Poison
“A fabulous whodunit that will keep readers guessing and happily turning pages to the unexpected end. Peggy Less is a most entertaining sleuth and her Southern gentility is like a breath of fresh air . . . A keeper!”
—Fresh Fiction
“A fascinating whodunit with unusual but plausible twists and plenty of red herrings.”
—Genre Go Round Reviews
“The book [has] so much . . . going for it . . . A feisty widow who exudes confidence . . . The plotting and pacing are cozy perfect.”
—Cozy Library
Poisoned Petals
“A delightful botany mystery.”
—The Best Reviews
“A top-notch, over-the-fence mystery read with beloved characters, a fast-paced story line, and a wallop of an ending.”
—Midwest Book Review
“Enjoy this pleasurable read!”
—Mystery Morgue
Fruit of the Poisoned Tree
“I cannot recommend this work highly enough. It has everything: mystery, wonderful characters, sinister plot, humor, and even romance.”
—Midwest Book Review
“Well crafted with a satisfying end that will leave readers wanting more!”
—Fresh Fiction
Pretty Poison
“With a touch of romance added to this delightful mystery, one can only hope many more Peggy Lee Mysteries will be hitting shelves soon!”
—Roundtable Reviews
“A fantastic amateur-sleuth mystery.”
—The Best Reviews
“For anyone with even a modicum of interest in gardening, this book is a lot of fun.”
—The Romance Readers Connection
“The perfect book if you’re looking for a great suspense.”
—Romance Junkies
“Joyce and Jim Lavene have crafted an outstanding whodunit in Pretty Poison, with plenty of twists and turns that will keep the reader entranced to the final page.”
—Fresh Fiction
“Complete with gardening tips, this is a smartly penned, charming cozy, the first book in a new series. The mystery is intricate and well plotted. Green thumbs and nongardeners alike will enjoy this book.”
—Romantic Times
Berkley Prime Crime titles by Joyce and Jim Lavene
Peggy Lee Garden Mysteries
PRETTY POISON
FRUIT OF THE POISONED TREE
POISONED PETALS
PERFECT POISON
A CORPSE FOR YEW
Renaissance Faire Mysteries
WICKED WEAVES
GHASTLY GLASS
Missing Pieces Mysteries
A TIMELY VISION
THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP
Published by the Penguin Group
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Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the authors’ imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
A TIMELY VISION
A Berkley Prime Crime Book / published by arrangement with the authors
PRINTING HISTORY Berkley Prime Crime mass-market edition / May 2010
Copyright © 2010 by Joyce Lavene and Jim Lavene.
All rights reserved.
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eISBN : 978-1-101-18745-6
BERKLEY® PRIME CRIME
Berkley Prime Crime Books are published by The Berkley Publishing Group,
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We
want to thank our loving and supportive family,
who daily put up with us having conversations
about killing people. We love you all!
Joyce and Jim (Mom and Dad)
Chapter 1
It was right after the Fourth of July parade that follows the crowning of the new Miss Duck when Mildred Mason tapped me on the shoulder and sighed. I knew that sigh. It meant she’d lost something again. Usually, it was her purse or house keys. Nothing of earthshaking proportions to anyone else, but something important to her.
“Miss Mildred!” I pretended I hadn’t seen the town’s oldest citizen behind me on the boardwalk. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m missing something real important, Dae. I was hoping you could help me find it. You’ve always been so good at finding things that are lost. I remember when your mama was alive, bless her soul. She was always so proud of your gift.”
I didn’t mind Miss Mildred reminiscing about the past usually, but the hot July sun was beating down on us. I was wearing a heavy, old-fashioned coat that was a gift from the town to their first mayor since incorporation in 2002. It was hot and uncomfortable, not to mention tacky. Covered with red sashes and gold medallions, it was kind of something our pirate forefathers might have worn. Exactly what every mayor needed in ninety-eight-degree weather.
“Let’s step inside.” I invited her into my shop, Missing Pieces, as I grabbed two packages left out on the boardwalk for me. I’d recently become the sole agent for UPS in Duck. “I think I have some lemonade in the refrigerator. Would you like some?”
Miss Mildred wandered in as she always did, taking a few minutes to look around. I think she liked looking at the odds and ends that filled the thrift shop, even though she didn’t come to visit very often. “No, thanks, dear. But you go right ahead. I love this shop, you know. It reminds me of people and places that are gone forever.”
She admired a heart-shaped pin I’d found the day before, at a spot right off the edge of the boardwalk where it led into the Currituck Sound. The sunlight had glinted off of it as I’d walked by. It was fashioned from pink rhinestones. It took me an hour to get it cleaned up, but it was in good shape after being out there in the mud and sand for who knew how long.
Something about it told me it was an important find. I didn’t know why yet, but my instinct for that kind of thing was never wrong. Sometimes it took me a while, years for some items, to figure it out. But I had time. It wasn’t going anywhere.
I removed the heavy wool coat, revealing my white shorts and a patriotic red, white and blue tank top as she rambled on about her life. She could be a cantankerous old lady, but her many contributions to various charities around town had earned her a soft spot in everyone’s hearts. She’d taught school here for many years, which meant at least half of the people still alive had her for one grade or another. They all remembered her as strict but fair.
She lived on the land her ancestors had settled some two hundred or so years ago. Miss Mildred traced her lineage back to a French pirate who’d sailed the Caribbean but decided to settle down on the narrow island that eventually became known as the Outer Banks of North Carolina. Duck is at the northern end of that hundred-mile strip of land.
“You should let Althea at the library record all those things you remember,” I told her as I poured a glass of lemonade. “All that history is part of this area.”
“I know,” she said, as she always did. “I will someday, when I get old.”
There was no convincing Miss Mildred that being ninety-two made her old. I thought about it when I was sixteen, never said anything, of course, and finally stopped thinking about it altogether at twenty-five. She didn’t see herself that way. Who was I to argue the point? Besides, since I’d turned thirty, I’d begun to understand what she meant.
I tossed back half of the lemonade in a single thirsty gulp and went to join her. “Let’s sit down, Miss Mildred. What are you looking for?”
We sat down on the old burgundy brocade sofa that had occupied too much space in the shop for too long. I should’ve gotten rid of it years before, but it was such a cozy place to sit and talk. Keeping it meant I had to occasionally put up shelves around it to hold extra merchandise that came my way, but I didn’t mind. I couldn’t bear to part with it.
“I’m looking for my mother’s watch. I loaned it to my sister, Lizzie, last week. I’ve called her, but there’s no answer.” Her prim little mouth drew up even further. A wealth of cobweb-fine lines spun out along her face. “You know how she is, Dae.”
I knew how Miss Mildred thought Miss Elizabeth was: irresponsible, reckless, careless.
“She’s irresponsible, reckless. She’s always been careless.” Miss Mildred listed her younger sister’s faults.
I would’ve asked why she’d loaned the watch to her if she felt that way, but I’d known the two of them all of my life. They’d been arguing since the day Miss Elizabeth took Johnny Simpson away from Miss Mildred in high school.
My grandparents had told me the sisters were never friends again after that even though Miss Mildred had married Frank Mason and done quite well for herself. Wild Johnny Simpson had left Miss Elizabeth crying and alone for the rest of her life. She never remarried, and Miss Mildred never forgave her.
So I didn’t ask. I sipped my lemonade and let her run through the gamut of Miss Elizabeth’s faults and vices.
“She’s always thought she was better than me because we both ran for Miss Duck that year and she was chosen. Really, I think she let the judge feel her up a little, if you know what I mean. Otherwise I’m sure he’d have chosen me.”
“This doesn’t really sound like you’ve lost your mother’s watch,” I finally interrupted. “But I’ll be happy to go by Miss Elizabeth’s house and see if she’s okay. I can check on the watch while I’m there.”
“Oh, I’m sure she’s fine.” Miss Mildred waved away the idea that her sister wouldn’t be fine with an impatient hand. “I can’t help but feel that Mama’s watch is lost. I need your help, Dae. I know you’re busy being mayor and all, but surely you can spare me a few minutes.”
I didn’t remind her that this was one of the biggest days in Duck. At least twenty thousand people were here for the holiday. They were looking for food and someplace to shop. Some of them might be about ready to run in and buy my treasures.
I glanced around at my collection of odds and ends, the precious and the ordinary. They had taken me a lifetime to find and might take a lifetime to sell the way things had been going the last few months. Sometimes I thought I should get rid of all of it and take to the open sea, as my Duck ancestors would have done. But visiting Gramps’s old fishing boat always changed my mind. I was never crazy about the smell of fish.
I sighed and brought my thoughts back to Miss Mildred. It couldn’t hurt to oblige her. Later, I could check in on her sister and find out what was going on. Miss Elizabeth, at the sweet young age of ninety, had been known to wander the beaches late at night and had often been escorted home by the police. “Okay.” I took a deep breath and turned to face Miss Mildred on the sofa. “Give me your hands.”
“I remember the first time you did this for me.” Miss Mildred smiled. “You were such a pretty child. I was looking for my purse, and your mama told me to give you my hand and you’d help me find it. I didn’t quite believe it then. But I do now.”
Miss Mildred put her rough, dry hands in mine, her short nails dirty and cracked. She refused to wear gloves when she gardened, which she did a lot of the time. “Think about the watch.” I closed my eyes and let the images form in my mind. I wasn’t really expecting to see anything since the watch wasn’t really missing. That seemed to be the way my gift worked.
But an image came seconds later, making me gasp. It was a gold wristwatch with tiny diamonds where the numbers should be. It was on a thin, wrinkled arm, presumably Miss Elizabeth’s.
I opened my eyes and shook all over for a second. I’d come to think of the shak
ing as a reaction to being in someone else’s mind. There’s not much literature or research done on this kind of thing, so I had to go with what I knew.
“Did you find my watch?”
“I think so, yes.” I let go of her hands and felt the link between us fade. “I think your sister is wearing it.” I wasn’t sure why that image would come to me since the watch wasn’t officially lost. Maybe Miss Mildred feeling it was lost was enough for that part of me to latch on to it.
“Maybe you could drop by her place, if you wouldn’t mind. I’d like to have Mama’s watch back. She left it to me, you know. Not Lizzie.”
I smiled as I helped her to her feet. “I’m sure your mother gave her something nice too.”
“Not as nice as that watch.” Miss Mildred patted my hand. “Thank you, Dae. You know, I voted for you, and you’ve done a very good job for us.”
“You’re welcome, Miss Mildred. I’ll see if Miss Elizabeth will let me bring the watch back to you.”
I was blessed with a string of customers after she left. I was always amazed at what visitors would buy and take home with them for souvenirs. Amazed and frustrated when the things I thought were most valuable were completely ignored for touristy lamps made from shells and little lighthouses that said “Outer Banks.” Most of the lighthouses didn’t even look like the ones you could find here—and they were made in China.
“Looks like you’ve got a good crowd,” Trudy Devereaux observed as she sauntered in from the Curves and Curls Beauty Spa next door. Trudy was showing off her signature tan with a short white dress that left her shoulders and most of her back bare. Of course, her pink nails and platinum blond hair were perfect, as always.