A Timely Vision

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A Timely Vision Page 7

by Joyce; Jim Lavene


  The thief was tall and thin, kind of scruffy looking from the back. He looked familiar, and I suddenly realized he was the young man who’d asked me about a job on the Fourth of July. He must’ve been setting me up. And if someone didn’t do something to help me stop him, he was going to get away with my purse.

  I yelled again and tried to speed up. He was passing the Coffee House, and I saw him run around the back of the Dumpster on the side. Was he trying to hide or trying to double back to confuse me?

  I had my answer a second later as he ran out from behind the Dumpster and headed back in the direction from which we’d come. There was a small runoff ditch beside the parking lot that he plowed through, water splashing everywhere as I followed him back to the blacktop. I was closer now because I’d waited for him to make his move, but he was still faster than me. I was going to lose him and with him, my credit cards, driver’s license and a very expensive tube of my favorite lipstick. Lucky my keys had been in my hand to open the door.

  We kept running through the parking lot. I wasn’t sure which way he’d turn. One way went up to the boardwalk again and the other way went right down into the sound. He might lose me in the gathering crowds starting to shop. If he ran down into the water, I had him.

  Then something amazing happened. Tim Mabry jumped down from the boardwalk right on top of the purse snatcher. The boy crumpled under his weight. Suddenly everyone noticed what was going on and took an interest. Where were they when I was trying to save my property?

  “You need this boy for something?” Tim grinned as he hauled the young man to his feet.

  “H-he . . . stole . . . my . . . p-purse.” I tried to catch my breath, but couldn’t seem to get enough air into my poor lungs. I leaned against the side of the stairs with a dozen people staring down on us.

  “Purse snatcher, huh?” Tim yanked my purse from the thief’s hands. “You know, we may have to have a little talk about where you were Fourth of July. We have a purse missing that might be part of an important murder case.”

  “Should you tell him that?” I wondered, gratefully accepting my purse from him. “Won’t that mess up the investigation?”

  “I don’t think that’s a problem, Mayor. You don’t worry your pretty head about it. We’ll take care of everything.”

  His tone set my teeth on edge as it always did, but I couldn’t complain. He’d stopped the purse snatcher and rescued my lipstick. I knew what was coming next, and I accepted it graciously. When he asked me out for dinner, I said yes. How could I say no even though I knew another marriage proposal waited for me after the last course?

  Tim handcuffed the young man and then led him to his police car parked on the far side of the lot. As I watched him put the purse snatcher in the backseat and then climb into the driver’s seat, I thought about how desperate the young man had to be to steal my purse. I was far from looking like someone who had money. Maybe everyone had turned him down for a job, and stealing was his only recourse.

  “I’d like to weigh in on that,” Trudy said after I’d told her about the incident later that morning. “You’re going to have to suck it up and testify against that little weasel. He could’ve hurt you when he took your purse. Don’t feel sorry for him.”

  We were in Missing Pieces, and I was watching my customers pick things up and put them back down. “No one starts out bad. He was desperate. I could see that in his face.”

  “Maybe. But everyone’s desperate at one time or another. It doesn’t give them the right to steal. And I heard what Tim said. He thinks that boy could be involved in Miss Elizabeth’s death. How can you even think about his motives?”

  I had already heard that speech from Gramps and Shayla earlier. News traveled fast in Duck. By eleven A.M. everyone had heard the story, and by noon had added their own embellishments. The young man had become a large, muscular brute who’d picked me up and slammed me against the wall. He’d left me there to die, taking my purse and most of the money from the cash register in Missing Pieces. That’s the way small-town gossip works.

  Nothing they said changed my mind. I still felt sorry for the young man. And I felt a little guilty that I hadn’t given him some kind of job when he’d asked me. It might’ve made a difference.

  Trudy finally got tired of trying to convince me she was right. She had a client under the hairdryer and left a few minutes later. Despite the crowd of shoppers around the boardwalk, the day was slow for me. Souvenirs and beach clothes seemed to be moving a lot faster than treasures.

  But there was one astute shopper who was looking at a garnet necklace I’d bought from an old woman in Wilmington one winter. It was one of my special finds. The research I’d done on it pointed to its owner having been the wife of Jefferson Davis, the president of the Confederacy during the Civil War. My fingers had tingled when I had touched it. The garnet was good and the chain was old gold, but the real value lay in its ownership.

  The woman, her white hair piled high on her head, sunglasses hanging around her neck, pointed to it in the glass case. “What’s that?”

  I held my breath, then slowly let it out. “It’s a necklace that once belonged to Sarah Knox Taylor Davis.”

  “But what is it? Is it a ruby?”

  “No. It’s a garnet.”

  The woman smacked her gum a few more times and scratched her arm where her sunburn was peeling. “Is that like a ruby?”

  “No. It’s completely different.”

  “So who’s this Davis woman? Does she live around here?”

  This was painful. I didn’t want this woman to buy my garnet necklace. “She’s dead. She’s been dead for a long time. There’s a jeweler right up the road. I’m sure he has some nice rubies you can look at.”

  Smack. Smack. Smack. “Naw. I think I want this one. How much is it?”

  I quoted her an awful, outrageous price. “I can’t let it go for less than that.”

  “That’s crazy! I’ll give you a hundred dollars. That’s what I’ve got. Do you gift wrap?”

  Since I’d quoted her five thousand dollars, I laughed. “I’m sorry. You can’t have it.”

  She looked at me as if she thought she’d misunderstood. “You can’t be serious. That piece of junk isn’t even worth a hundred. You can’t make that much here in a day.”

  We both surveyed the empty shop. “That’s not the point. I told you the price. I won’t take less.”

  “I am so out of here. You’re crazy, you know?”

  Watching her leave, her pencil-thin legs wobbling on high-heeled sandals, I agreed. She was the closest thing to a real sale I’d had that day. I had sold a few trinkets I’d gotten at the Presbyterian church rummage sale last spring but nothing of any great value. A few people came in for their UPS packages and dropped a few off. Not much to live on.

  As I was about to call it a day at four P.M., Kevin came through the door and stopped to admire the place. “Wow! You really have a lot of junk.”

  “Some of that is very good junk,” I told him. “Some of it is even very expensive junk.”

  “Sorry. I didn’t come to make you angry. I have a warning.”

  “That sounds ominous.” I gravitated toward the burgundy sofa in the middle of the shop.

  “Well, since you haven’t done anything wrong, it won’t be a big deal. The SBI had me come in this morning to talk about finding Miss Elizabeth and about you.”

  “What about me?” I scooted over so he could sit down on the sofa. “I told Chief Michaels everything I know.”

  He shrugged, and I noticed the Blue Whale Inn T-shirt he was wearing. “It’s standard procedure. If I were investigating this case, I’d bring you in too.”

  “Should I say anything about finding Miss Mildred’s watch?”

  “That’s up to you.” He glanced toward a painting of a dog running up the seashore. “Hey! I like that. It might look good in my lobby.”

  “In other words, you already told them I find things.”

  “I didn’t have t
o. They talked to Chief Michaels, and he filled them in. It was really only a matter of time anyway. I couldn’t deny I knew you were psychic. How much for the painting?”

  A little annoyed that I’d be in a defensive position when they talked to me, I rolled my eyes and answered, “Fifteen thousand dollars.”

  He smiled, then looked at the painting again. “For real?”

  “How much do you think my privacy is worth?”

  “Look, Dae, everyone here knows about you. It might be a little more uncomfortable for you talking to the SBI with them knowing you’re psychic, but it will be fine. I’d be happy to tag along and help out if—”

  “Great! What time do they want to see me?”

  “There’s nothing to worry about.”

  “But I’ll feel so much better with you there. I’d call my lawyer, but he’s working off a DUI picking up trash on the roads. What time did you say?”

  “I don’t know. Chief Michaels might come for you. Or he’ll call. I don’t know which.”

  I took out my cell phone. “I’ll call you then. Thanks for volunteering.”

  “Sure. So how much for the painting?”

  We settled on three hundred dollars. I was only asking four hundred. It wasn’t one of my special finds, but I was glad to see how much Kevin liked it. I’d know if it was a pity purchase (to make up for his talking about me to the SBI) if I didn’t see it hanging in the Blue Whale lobby.

  “Thanks. You made my lackluster sales day much better.” I nodded at his T-shirt. “I like the color and the new design on that. I’d be glad to sell some of them here if you like. I have a community board over there too where you could give out information.”

  “That would be great! Speaking of the Blue Whale, when can I expect you to come over and help me find my key?”

  I thought about it. I could’ve done it right there in the shop on the brocade sofa. But I had never been in the Blue Whale. I was barely six years old when it closed. I thought this would be a good excuse for a tour. “I can come anytime. I was about to close up for the day.”

  “Fantastic! Let’s have some dinner and look for the key.”

  I started to agree, then remembered my promise to Tim. “I can’t today. Maybe tomorrow. I have a date, sort of.”

  “A date! That’s worth not finding my key. Anyone I know?”

  “Probably not since you’re new here.” I went on to explain about the purse snatcher and how Tim had saved the day. I didn’t go into how the evening would end with another marriage proposal.

  “I know Tim. You can bring him along. I’ll call Shayla, and we’ll make it a foursome.”

  The smile on his face seemed devilish to me, as though he already knew about Tim’s infatuation. Adding Shayla to the mix was like scratching a fingernail on a chalkboard. “I don’t think so. Thanks anyway. I’m sure we’ll have time to look for the key later. If not tomorrow, the next day.”

  “I guess that’ll have to do.” He followed me out of the shop after I turned off the lights. “I heard you chased down that guy who took your purse. That wasn’t very smart.”

  I locked the door with a loud click. “I got my purse back.”

  “He could’ve turned around and shot you.”

  “But he didn’t. I’m safe and sound and probably in better shape after running all over the parking lot. I appreciate you letting me know about the SBI.”

  He held up his painting. “And I’m glad I came in. I guess I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  “Unless you hear from me in the middle of the night when the SBI comes for me.”

  I smiled as we walked in opposite directions. Kevin seemed to be on his way to the General Store or Wild Stallions, the little bar and grill tucked into the corner of the boardwalk. I headed down to the town hall to check my messages with Nancy.

  Kevin was much different than I’d imagined when I first met him. He was a little trickier than I’d originally thought. I don’t know why he struck me originally as being a straightforward kind of man. Not a bit like Chief Michaels, Gramps or Tim, the three other law enforcement men I knew well. They were always to the point. I kind of liked the difference.

  Chief Michaels was in my office when I arrived at town hall. Nancy got up from her desk with a worried frown on her thin face. “He’s been here for an hour already. I think he wants to take you down to meet with the SBI people. They want to question you about finding Miss Elizabeth.”

  Since I knew about the meeting (thank you, Kevin), I was calm and collected as I took my mail and messages and went through to my office. I’d decorated it myself. It had been a storage room, but it had a good window overlooking the sound. I’d painted the room blue and brought in all the sea paraphernalia I could find, including a ship’s bell from a freighter that went down in a storm in the early 1800s. I felt relaxed and calm when I was here. Even now, Chief Michaels’s worried face didn’t upset me.

  “You wanted to see me?” I sat behind my white oak desk and picked up my letter opener.

  He put his hands on the desk. “The SBI wants to talk to you, Mayor. It’s routine. Nothing to worry about. Except for the part about you finding things. I don’t know how that will play out. Tell the truth and everything will be fine.”

  My heart started pounding a little faster. “What do you mean? Of course I’ll tell the truth.”

  “I don’t think you should mention your gift for finding things, or that Millie had asked you to find the watch. You know what I mean, Dae. We understand that kind of thing out here. Other places, not so much.”

  I put down the letters and the opener. “Kevin already told me that they know about me finding things. What do you want me to do?”

  “He did?” He looked uncomfortable. “For your own sake, don’t emphasize it. Tell them you were out looking for Lizzie like the rest of us. They don’t have to know anything else.”

  “That would be lying, Chief. You told me to be honest.”

  “Not exactly. There’s a fine line between lying and telling a partial truth, Dae. I’ve known you since you were a little girl. Take my word for this. None of us wants to go through what they might start if you tell them everything.”

  I got up from my desk and started pacing around the room, mulling over what Kevin had said. I looked out at the sound where the seagulls were whirling and dipping in their quest for food. How bad could it be? The SBI might not understand what I had to say about Miss Mildred’s watch, but there wasn’t much they could do about it. “When do they want to see me?”

  “First thing tomorrow, eight A.M. Out of deference to your position, they’ll come here. Nancy can hold the phones, and you’ll answer their questions—to a point, I hope. Take my advice, Mayor, and know when to stop.”

  The chief nodded to me, then put his cap on and left the office. I sat back down at my desk and called Kevin to tell him about my coming date with the SBI. He didn’t answer, of course, but I left him a message about the meeting. I hoped he’d be there. If nothing else, he’d be good moral support.

  I didn’t know him well enough to be sure I could rely on his judgment. But the chief’s request that I skirt around the truth about myself made me more uneasy than I would’ve been. What was I supposed to say if they asked me point-blank if I could find lost things with my mind?

  Kevin seemed to be familiar with abilities like mine. Maybe the SBI agents would be too. I hoped they wouldn’t try to recruit me or something because I definitely wasn’t interested. Finding Miss Elizabeth had been a terrible experience. It had destroyed any thoughts I’d had about using my gift for something more important than locating lost trinkets.

  Thirty minutes later, Nancy popped her head into the office as I was getting ready to leave. “Are you okay?” she asked.

  “I’m fine,” I assured her. “But if Tim proposes again tonight after supper, I might lose it.”

  “Sweetie, why don’t you marry the boy? Have a nice little family and live your life?”

  I could tell by her
kind smile that she meant well. Nancy was divorced and had two beautiful daughters. I’m sure that’s what she meant by living my life. “If it was somebody other than Tim, I might consider it. But he’s been asking me to marry him since I stuffed sand in his mouth when we were kids. Maybe I’m looking for someone else. Or I’m meant to be alone with my lost treasures.”

  “Very dramatic. And very lonely. What about the new guy at the whale place? I heard he’s a darling.”

  “He’s also taken. Shayla has her hooks in him. At least right now. We’ll see. Good night, Nancy.”

  “Good night, sweetie.”

  I headed out the door into the early evening air. The streets were crowded. Duck nightlife was bustling and noisy in the summer. The music of at least three different bands was spilling into the streets from various establishments as I made my way home.

  Gramps had left me a note on the kitchen table. He was out for the night playing pinochle. He loved his games. I took a quick shower and changed clothes, wondering what I should wear in the morning to be interrogated by the SBI. Was that a formal thing or more a shorts-and-tank-top thing? I might call Kevin and ask his opinion later.

  By the time I had changed into a short, mint green sundress and embroidered sandals, Tim was at the door. He gave me my obligatory (his idea, not mine) bouquet of daisies from the local supermarket. I smelled them, pretending they had a smell besides that strange refrigerator odor, and said thank you.

  “I was thinking we could go over to the Rib Shack. They have a special tonight.” He grinned and swayed back on his heels with pleasure.

  If he’d said anyplace else in Duck or Southern Shores, I would’ve been impressed. But it was always the Rib Shack. Oh well. I owed him for catching the purse snatcher. I smiled and tucked my arm in his. “Sounds great!”

 

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