A Timely Vision

Home > Other > A Timely Vision > Page 21
A Timely Vision Page 21

by Joyce; Jim Lavene


  “That’s right.” Max stepped up to shake Kevin’s hand. “The man who bought the old Blue Whale. Nice to meet you. If you find anything old you don’t want over there, be sure to send it my way.”

  Kevin smiled. “I’m looking for Bunk Whitley right now. I was hoping you could help me.”

  “Haven’t run across him yet, eh?” Max laughed at his own joke. “I have the old Gazette microfiche in back if you’d like to look through that. It’s kind of funny. We have a lock of Blackbeard’s hair and the masthead from a clipper that went down off the coast in 1809. But I haven’t seen hide nor hair of old Bunk. There’s a lot he could answer for if someone found him.”

  Max took us in the back to what had probably been a storeroom at one time. There was a very small table with the microfiche machine on it. Yellowed copies of the Gazette decorated the walls. “Let me get you another chair,” he offered. “We don’t usually have so many people in here at one time!”

  Kevin sat down at the machine, and I took the side chair. Max went to find cold tea and maybe a leftover cookie or two. His wife, Agnes, ran the Beach Bakery and was always generous with samples.

  I sat there and watched as the old pages flipped by on the screen. They were hard to read in some places. I squinted to recognize an old photo of Gramps taken after he’d caught a thief who’d held up stores in several Outer Banks towns.

  “Pay dirt,” Kevin said after about twenty minutes. “Look at this. I think we found old Bunk.”

  It was Bunk Whitley. At least the caption under the picture said so. I wouldn’t have recognized him from some of the other pictures I’d seen of him. In this photo, he looked to be in his late twenties. Two beautiful young women in bathing suits were standing on either side of him. I squinted at the writing and read out loud, “Bunk Whitley, owner of the Blue Whale Inn, had a difficult choice to make for the crown of Miss Duck. Pictured with him are Miss Elizabeth Butler (left) and Miss Mildred Butler, both of Duck. Miss Elizabeth Butler won the crown of Miss Duck.”

  Chapter 16

  “So Bunk Whitley was the mysterious pageant judge that fateful day in Duck.” I told Kevin the old story that had cost such long-lasting pain between the two sisters.

  “Well it sounds like Miss Mildred had something to complain about. Between that and Wild Johnny Simpson, it’s surprising the sisters spoke at all.” He read the rest of the Gazette page on the microfiche. “That’s all that’s here about him.”

  Kevin kept moving forward with an eye for articles about Bunk. The newspaper was liberally sprinkled with them. Bunk was a member of every group in town. He attended all of the charity and society events in Duck and was apparently known for being a hearty diner. He seemed to be at the openings of every restaurant in the area.

  “I think I wouldn’t have had a chance if he’d been here to run for mayor.”

  Kevin agreed. “He was definitely the Duck man about town. Maybe that’s why the Blue Whale is in such bad repair now. He never stayed home to keep up with maintenance.”

  “How are things coming along?” Max came back into the little room and looked around. “You know, it’s a small place, and I couldn’t help overhearing your conversation about Bunk. He was a larger-than-life type of personality. He dominated the town for a few years. Never married. No one to inherit the old inn, which is why it sat around empty for so long. People said he never got over losing Miss Elizabeth to Wild Johnny Simpson.”

  “Sounds like that could be a motive for murder.” Kevin smiled at me.

  “Oh, you don’t know the half of it,” Max told us. “I’ve heard when Johnny came back to beg his bride’s forgiveness, it was like the Fourth of July around here. Fireworks! Bunk was courting Miss Elizabeth at the time, and suddenly, Johnny shows up. Bunk didn’t like it.”

  “How long ago was that, Max?” I asked him.

  “About the same time Bunk went missing. No one ever knew what happened to him. There was a massive manhunt. Dae, your grandfather would know more about it. I don’t know if anyone ever saw Johnny again after that either. Miss Elizabeth was still a handsome woman, even in her sixties. You can probably find some pictures there. The Gazette loved the drama.”

  Kevin finally found that timeframe, back in the late 1970s. Max was right. There were plenty of pictures of Miss Elizabeth with Bunk. “I don’t see any pictures of Johnny here.”

  “Wild Johnny didn’t like the limelight like Bunk. Some people said he stayed to himself because of things he’d done after he left Duck. I think the Gazette photographer liked Bunk better.”

  I sat down and stared at the old newspapers on the walls. It was hard enough to think through what could’ve happened to Miss Elizabeth. A thirty-year-old murder was too much of a strain. “You said you knew Bunk, Max. Do you think he could’ve killed Johnny and then left town to keep anyone from finding out?”

  Max shrugged, dislodging the red suspenders on his shoulders. “It doesn’t seem like him. There would’ve been so much drama in a good murder trial. I think he’d have preferred it. But who knows how a man will react until he’s faced with those circumstances? One thing’s for sure—if Bunk ran away because he killed Wild Johnny, he wasted his time. He could’ve lived with Miss Elizabeth for the last thirty years. Maybe if he had, she’d still be alive.”

  The sad tale of Bunk, Miss Elizabeth and Wild Johnny left me feeling blue as we said good-bye to Max and headed toward Elizabeth City in the rain. A heavy fog had moved in over the sound, obscuring the bridge linking the Outer Banks and the mainland. The only way to know the truck was still traveling on the bridge was the sure sound of the tires on the concrete.

  Elizabeth City was a long drive from Duck but not as long as the drive to Greenville, where Luke said Miss Mildred would be transferred eventually. The rain and fog weren’t as dismal as my thoughts on that matter. I’d begun to feel helpless against the weight of the world crushing down on Miss Mildred.

  “There’s no way to know if Bunk had anything to do with Johnny’s death,” Kevin said. “Since no one knows what happened to him, there’s not much chance they can link any DNA evidence they find to him. This is one case there may not be an answer for.”

  “And I know how much lawmen hate when that happens,” I bit back. “Tying up all the loose ends nice and neat, even if they don’t really go together, is what it’s all about.”

  I felt him glance at me but didn’t look back at him, keeping my eyes on the bridge rail as we went by. “Dae, I’m sorry about Miss Mildred. But evidence is evidence. You can’t fault the investigation.”

  “No. Just the results. I know she didn’t kill her sister. Gramps and Chief Michaels know it too. They’d rather believe their guts and DNA than their hearts.”

  He didn’t say anything else for a long time. I didn’t blame him. I wasn’t the best traveling companion. Maybe I should’ve warned him and he could’ve stayed in Duck. After all, we weren’t really even friends yet. More like acquaintances caught in a bizarre set of circumstances. We might have lived in Duck for years without spending this much time together. Probably not, but it was possible.

  When the front tires hit the pavement off the bridge and we slowed to a stop for the red light, the sun began poking through the clouds. Rays of light shimmered down between the raindrops, and I suddenly knew, without exception, that everything was going to be all right. I can’t explain it, but I felt it. I knew Miss Mildred would somehow be cleared of Miss Elizabeth’s terrible murder. We would catch whoever was responsible for what happened to her.

  “I’m sorry I snapped at you.” I smiled at Kevin before the red light changed.

  “That’s okay. I know she means a lot to you. Maybe if you can get something about the power of attorney from her, another piece of the puzzle will turn up with it. All we need is a little of that hard evidence you hate so much, except in our favor.”

  “I guess I wouldn’t hate it so much then.” I laughed. “I just don’t like it when it goes against me.”

  “
I don’t think anyone ever does.”

  By the time we arrived in Elizabeth City, the rain was completely gone. It was hot, the sun steaming the water from the streets. It might still be raining off the coast at home. It wasn’t unusual for the weather to vary significantly along the hundred-mile stretch of the Outer Banks.

  The small facility where Miss Mildred was being kept was painted a sterile white. A sign, barely visible from the road, led us into a parking lot where the armed attendant took down our names and the license plate number of the truck. “It’s a good thing you had GPS,” I told Kevin as he looked for a parking place. “I don’t know if we could’ve found this without it.”

  “People don’t like to advertise this kind of place. Not that the people here will be the worst of the worst. I don’t think they’d send someone like Miss Mildred to a place like that. But you have to be aware the people here are prisoners like those in Raleigh. Some of them have done terrible things.”

  It was a sobering thought. I looked at the whitewashed walls and thought about being unable to go outside or make personal decisions for myself. Miss Mildred might not have a lot of time left to live her life. She deserved better than this. I knew it was up to us to provide the evidence she needed.

  They checked our IDs again as we started inside the building. I had to leave my purse at the front desk. The smell of antiseptic filled the air. But there were no open hallways here as there were at Sea Oats Senior Care. The few people standing around were uniformed guards with handguns and large batons in their belts. I’d been with Gramps to the county jail in Manteo many times growing up, but I’d never felt the oppression I did here. Maybe it was simply an adult point of view. When I’d gone with Gramps to the county jail, I was a child.

  “Mr. Brickman, Ms. O’Donnell.” A grim-faced woman in a bad green sweater shook both of our hands, then led us through the security door that buzzed open. A dark maze of hallways leading in various directions lay before us. “I heard the rain has stopped.”

  I stared at her for a moment, not really believing she was making small talk in this terrible place. “Yes,” I finally managed to say. “The sun is shining.”

  “Well, we needed the rain.”

  It’s amazing how people can find the most mundane things to talk about when they don’t know each other. I knew I was supposed to stick out my hand and introduce myself as the mayor of Duck, big smile plastered on my face, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t ignore or put aside why we were there.

  I glanced at Kevin, and he didn’t seem able to put it aside either. On impulse, I grabbed his hand as we walked what seemed like forever to find Miss Mildred. He smiled at me and squeezed my hand back. I thought it made us both feel better, and for once, I wasn’t wondering why.

  “Here she is.” The woman in the bad green sweater unlocked the plain white door with a card key and held it open for us. “Mrs. Mason, you have visitors.”

  I looked at the woman as I walked past her, my hand accidentally covering hers as I caught the door. The contact lasted long enough for me to get a small image from her. “We all call her Miss Mildred. She doesn’t believe she’s old enough to be called Mrs. Mason, you know. And you left your umbrella at the restaurant where you had lunch. It’s not in the car.”

  Kevin stifled a laugh as the woman choked out questions, wondering how I knew. I shivered as I broke contact and left her thoughts.

  The tiny room contained only a hospital-type bed, a metal chair and a small desk. There was a TV hanging from the ceiling and metal mesh covering the only window. It was difficult to make out anything outside through the metal.

  “Dae? Is that you?” Miss Mildred rose slowly from the metal chair. “Child, I never thought I’d see you again.” She put her thin arms around me and squeezed with all her might. I could hear her crying quietly as I hugged her back. She’d lost so much weight in the short time she’d been gone. There was hardly anything left of her.

  “It’s me, Miss Mildred,” I assured her, tears sliding down my face. “And look, I brought a friend. This is Kevin.”

  She tossed her white hair, which looked as if it hadn’t been brushed that day. “Oh, I know him. He was crazy enough to buy that old white elephant we call the Blue Whale. I guess somebody knew what they were doing when they sold that property.”

  Once the woman in the bad green sweater had gotten over me telling her where her lost umbrella was, she went to find two more chairs for me and Kevin. I’d hoped she planned to leave the room and give us some privacy, but she pulled in another chair and sat by the door. It wasn’t that I was nervous about what I was going to do with Miss Mildred. I only hoped the woman could handle it.

  “Miss Mildred,” I began, scooting my chair next to hers and taking her hands. “We want to help you. There are so many things going on.”

  Her pale blue eyes welled with tears again. “Don’t I know it! They think I killed Lizzie. It’s crazy of course, but they think I’m crazy because I saw her ghost. I can’t tell you how many people I know in Duck who have seen ghosts. I never thought they were crazy.”

  “I know. I feel the same,” I reassured her. At this point, I was getting nothing from her. It was like looking into a black hole. “We’re trying to prove you didn’t kill your sister. Can you think of anyone who might have wanted to hurt her?”

  She made a humphing sound. “You mean besides me? You know there have been plenty of times that I wanted to kill her. But I didn’t. It’s one thing to get angry and say things, but you don’t mean them. I can’t believe Lizzie is dead.”

  She broke down again, crying for a few minutes. Kevin passed me some tissues, which I handed to Miss Mildred. Finally, she calmed down. “Miss Mildred, right now, we’re trying to keep them from selling your house so you have someplace to come home to.”

  “Them? Who’s trying to sell my house, Dae?”

  “I don’t know a good way to tell you this, but your brother, Silas, is still alive.”

  “Silas? I knew that. Who’d have thought he’d come back after all these years? Why didn’t he phone or come over? How is he?”

  “He’s sick. He might not live long.” I’d caught a glimpse of something tangible when she mentioned her brother, but it had no form, no focus. “He’s at an assisted living center in Kitty Hawk.”

  “He’s the one who wants to sell my house? Our house, really, since that’s where we grew up. Daddy left it to me when he died with express commands to let Lizzie or Silas live there later if they needed to. We’ll bring him home. No reason for him to live in a place like that. I’ll tend to him.”

  I didn’t remind her that she was in no position to bring anyone home. I tried to keep her focused on what was happening. “It seems Silas has given his grandson power of attorney to take care of his finances. His grandson is selling your house.”

  “You mean my house and Lizzie’s house.” Her lips grew thin and mutinous. “I was Lizzie’s only heir in her will. That makes double properties for that young hyena to sell. Silas always was a little soft in the head. Does this young devil live in Kitty Hawk too?”

  “No. It’s Jerry Richards from the TV station. You know him.”

  “I certainly do. And I have a few things that need to be said to him. Dae, help me out of this chair and fetch my clothes. He can’t sell our houses. It’s simply not done.”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the woman with the bad green sweater start to her feet. I didn’t want any kind of confrontation to erupt. I knew Miss Mildred liked to have her way. “I’m afraid we can’t do that right now.” I tried to calm her down. “But there’s something we can do to stop the sale.”

  Miss Mildred looked at the attendant by the door and seemed to rethink her position. “What can we do, Dae? How can I save Daddy’s property?”

  “Do you have a power of attorney document?”

  “Of course. Lizzie and I had ours made at the same time by that ne’er-do-well, Bunk Whitley.”

  “He never filed anything wit
h the courthouse for either of you. Do you have a copy?”

  “That man! He was good to look at, but he was a burden. That’s why I didn’t marry him after my husband died and I let him court Lizzie instead. But I kept a copy of everything. I have a copy of Lizzie’s will too.”

  I could feel excitement straining inside me. I glanced at Kevin and smiled. “Where do you keep it?”

  She paused and looked at me. “You know, I’m not really sure. It was behind the piano for the longest time. It fell off the top one day, and I couldn’t get that nice man from the church to come and help me move it for several weeks. I’m trying to remember where I put it after that. You know, I left both properties to the town in the event Lizzie and I both died. I thought my house might be a nice park, especially since I left five hundred yards on the beach to the Turtle Rescue League to start a sanctuary.”

  That was news. I didn’t expect those properties to be left to Duck. There might be someway we could use that information to stop the sale, if we could find the power of attorney. “Think about it, Miss Mildred. We’ve done this plenty of times before. You think about it and I’ll find it.”

  She smiled at me and took her hand away to pat my cheek. “You’ve always been such a good girl, Dae. I’ve been very proud to watch you grow up.”

  Miss Mildred put her hand back in mine, and we both closed our eyes. I was beginning to get a clear picture of something in the house. It looked like a large jar, the decorative kind, painted in a blue and white Chinese motif. It seemed to be on a shelf, but it was difficult to say which room it was in. I concentrated harder, trying to pinpoint the area.

  There was a loud rap at the door, startling everyone in the quiet room. The woman with the bad green sweater jumped up and opened the door. Another attendant, along with Jerry Richards and a man in a dark suit who had to be a lawyer, stood in the doorway.

 

‹ Prev