by Joyce Lavene
“I’d like to think I would’ve won even if that hadn’t happened.” Would my election always be clouded by the murder investigation into my opponent, Mad Dog Wilson?
“Of course you would have!” Nancy playfully slapped at me. “I have the car here today. I’d be glad to offer you ladies a ride to Dae’s house.”
“That would be awesome,” I told her. “Thanks.”
We went down the boardwalk stairs to the parking lot and got in Nancy’s older Chevy. My house was only a few minutes away on Duck Road. At this time of year, early November, it wouldn’t take long to get there. During the summer—when our population rose from five hundred and eighty-six to more than twenty-five-thousand—that drive could take half an hour.
Nancy chattered about her terrier and his bad habits all the way to the house. Mary Catherine sat in the front seat and pleasantly answered questions and discussed the dog.
I assumed being a pet psychic was a lot like being a doctor—everyone wanted to talk about their problems. The same thing happened to me when people from town had problems they wanted addressed. Sometimes it was about sidewalks. Sometimes it was about sewer issues. Mostly I referred them to our town manager, but I always checked back with him afterward to see if anything had been done.
Sometimes people wanted me to find things for them. Everyone knew about my gift. My mother and grandfather had always seen it as a kind of responsibility to the people of Duck, not unlike being mayor.
“Looks like you’ve got company, Dae.” Nancy’s smile was suggestive. “I think that old pickup belongs to Jake Burleson, doesn’t it? Maybe he’s come to help you celebrate.”
Chapter Two
Nancy had a ‘thing’ for Jake. I’d told her repeatedly that it was fine with me if she dated him—she was worried I had romantic leanings toward him. She’d been a single mother for many years and the cowboy from Corolla had taken her fancy. I wished they would get together. Jake was a good man and Nancy was a wonderful woman. Nothing would make me happier.
I would have known that rusted-out pickup anywhere without Nancy’s alert. Riding in it was just slightly better than riding down Duck Road on a horse. You could see the road going by through holes in the floorboard. The whole vehicle seemed to be held together with wishful thinking and duct tape.
Jake usually brought the pickup when he was taking me somewhere. I didn’t mind riding a horse in a nice, sunny meadow, but I didn’t like being out on the street with one. He frequently came to visit and had eaten dinner many times at our house.
He rode horses most places. The wild horses were his true love, his passion. He didn’t care about anything else. He worked with injured animals until they were well enough to be back with the herd. I respected that about him.
The horses were part of the Outer Banks, but their space was becoming more and more limited by civilization each year. Jake, and Wild Horse Conservancy director Tom Watts, worked tirelessly to help them.
Mary Catherine and I got out of the car. Nancy got out too—on the pretext of taking the suitcase inside—I knew she really wanted to talk to Jake. So far he’d shown no sign of being interested in her at all.
“I’m glad he’s here,” Mary Catherine murmured to me as we walked toward the house. “I’m not as good at reading people as I am animals. I’m curious to meet this man who thought nothing of upsetting a fine balance.”
I started to remind her that Jake had no idea what he was doing when he’d found the horse statues on his property. He’d thought they were remarkable, something worth saving, like the living horses. He never intended things to get so far out of control. The state had come in when they’d heard about the find and it had quickly escalated from there. The excavation had changed his life and work. That was never what he’d meant to happen.
Jake walked out of the house with Gramps. His gaze was locked on me. The expression on his face was grim. Gone was the teasing, flirty man who’d tried so hard to charm me into believing that there could be something between us. I hardly recognized this stranger.
There were terrible, dark circles under his sunken eyes. His handsome face was drawn, thinner than the last time I’d seen him. His clothes were dirty and wrinkled as though he’d been wearing them for a few days. It was the only time I’d seen him without his Stetson.
I glanced away from his gaze. It was too painful to see him this way. What was wrong?
There were introductions all around—except for Mary Catherine and Gramps. It seemed they had known each other very well when she’d lived here before, even though it was only a brief time. He would still have been the sheriff of Dare County when she’d set up her shop on the boardwalk. I had just left college after my mother’s death.
He greeted her with a warm hug. I wondered how his thinning white hair and full white beard compared to the last time she’d seen him. The white accented his ruddy complexion and blue eyes. I thought it made him look distinguished. His face was still strong and rugged from spending so much time at sea on his charter fishing boat.
“Welcome back, MC. I hope you’ve spent enough time in Wilmington to know what you’ve been missing not being here in Duck.”
Mary Catherine was equally excited to see Gramps. “Horace, you old salty dog. You were about to retire from the sheriff’s office when I was here last. Did you finally give it up?”
“I did indeed. Come on inside and let me warm you up with some coffee. I have a nice apple strudel that just came out of the oven. I’ll get your bag. How long are you staying?”
They walked inside together, heads bent close. Nancy, Jake, and I stayed outside in the driveway. The breeze played with the last leaves that were left on the trees around us and pushed at the squeaky weather vane on top of the old house that had been built by an ancestor of mine.
My grandfather and my mother had both been raised here. So was I. Now I lived here Gramps who’d been my inspiration to open Missing Pieces—he’d told me I was bringing home too much junk and that I needed to find somewhere else to put it.
It was the best move I’d ever made.
None of the three of us that remained in the drive had anything to say. For once Nancy was even quiet instead of chatty. She gazed at Jake in quiet adoration.
“I have to talk to you, Dae.” He brought a brown cloth bag from behind his back.
It was the bag he’d used to put a few of the ancient horse statues into the last time I’d been out at his property with him. He’d wanted me to use my gift to understand more about the background of the horse cult they’d been excavating. Jake hadn’t grown up here, but he’d heard rumors about my gift of sight.
I’d been too involved in other things to look at them properly—at least that was my cover story. The real truth was that I was scared of them, as I’d told Mary Catherine though I hated to admit it. I’d only examined them with gloves protecting my hands because I could feel their dark power.
The whole idea of the horse cult was frightening to me. Archaeologists were saying the statues were at least a thousand years old. I’d touched dozens of antique items—either purposely or by accident—that didn’t go back that far. Not all of those were pleasant experiences. Most still brought nightmares.
It had been easy to put Jake’s request on the back burner since I was busy and hadn’t wanted to do it. I knew wasn’t being fair to him. I just didn’t know what to say.
“We’re on my way to my post-election parties, Jake.” I summoned up a bright smile. “I’ll have to wait to examine the horses until later. Come with us.”
His usually warm gaze was cold and hard on me. “I need you to do it now. You’ve put it off too long. Tom Watts wants to help Martin Sheffield and the others continue this madness. I thought he was my friend. You’ve said you’re my friend. Now’s the time to prove it.”
Tom and Jake had been good friends for many years. I hated the idea that this excavation had come between them.
Martin Sheffield was the lead archaeologist on the horse pr
oject. I’d only met him a time or two, but I knew that Jake’s feelings about him ran deep. Dr. Sheffield had offered Jake a substantial sum of money to sell his property outright so that the excavation could take over everything. Jake had flatly refused. The tension between the two men had continued to grow.
It was one of those awkward times when someone was intent on having me touch or find something or someone for them that went against my better judgment. Sometimes I had to say no for my own good. Very few people understood that. They hadn’t seen the terrible things I had.
Nancy glanced between us with worried eyes. “I think I should go home and get ready for the parties, Dae. I’ll see you later. Bye, Jake.”
He didn’t reply.
“Thanks for the lift, Nancy,” I said. “I’ll see you later.”
I wasn’t afraid of Jake, but I was very uncomfortable with him at that moment. I was sorry to see her go. She’d supplied a buffer between us. Now I was out there alone with him. He was making me nervous.
“Let’s go inside and talk,” I suggested. “Wouldn’t you like a piece of Gramps’s strudel?”
“You said you’d help, Dae. What are you afraid of? I’ll be here with you, I swear. I just need to know the truth. I don’t know if I can stop Sheffield and Tom without an ace in my pocket. You’re the only card I have up my sleeve. He doesn’t know about you. You have to help me before it’s too late.”
“Jake, you’re letting this take over your life. You wanted to dig up these things from the horse cult. Why are you backing out now?” I knew the answer. I was just making conversation, hoping to see some little spark of the man I knew in his dead face. “When did you sleep last? You look like you’re falling apart.”
“I’m not afraid of the horse cult. That was a long time ago. I’m afraid of these buzzards circling around wanting my land. If I can’t stop them, I can’t take care of the living horses that need my help. I can’t lose my property over this.”
“How will anything I find by touching the horse statues make any difference? I don’t think Martin Sheffield is going to care what I think about the horse cult. Maybe you need someone else to come in—another archaeologist or historian. You know a scientist isn’t going to recognize my gift as anything important.”
He grip bit into my arms, and his eyes bored into mine. “Please, Dae. You can do this. Don’t be afraid. I’ll protect you.”
The bag with the horses dangled on his wrist close to mine. I could feel the vibes, as Mary Catherine had called it, even through the cloth. The cloth protected me, like gloves, kept me from being drawn into the past and whatever secrets were buried with the horse cult statues.
I pulled away from him. “I can’t do it, Jake.” I said the words in a firm tone so that he’d know this was it. I’d been too wishy-washy about his request. I had to disappoint him, make sure he knew I wasn’t going to touch any of the horse statues that he’d dug out of the sand. “I’m scared. I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to do this. Please try to understand.”
I could feel his anger as strongly as I felt the darkness surrounding the stone horses in the brown bag. He grabbed me again, his hands tightening again on my arms. He pulled me closer until there was barely an inch between us. His need to see this done battered at me like gale-force winds.
“Hey, everything okay out here?” Gramps pushed open the back door. “Dae, you don’t have all the time in the world to get ready, you know. You’d best come inside. You can see Jake at the party.”
I wasn’t sure if Jake was going to let me go. His gaze burned into mine and his hands continued to clench on my arms.
Then suddenly he let go and stepped to the side. He glanced at the bag he held. “All right. I guess you have to do what’s right for you. I have to do what’s necessary for me. I’ll see you later.”
I was happy to see him climb in the old truck and back down the drive. I sighed, rubbed my arms, and walked toward the house where Gramps was still waiting with a concerned look on his face.
“What was that all about?” he asked. “If you’re having trouble deciding between Jake and Kevin, you’d better say something now. That looked pretty intense to me.”
“That’s not what he wanted.” I explained about the horse statues.
He’d known about the problem for a while. Like Kevin, he understood what could happen if the pull of something I held with my bare hands was too much for me. He’d lived with my grandmother having the same abilities.
“He’s gonna have to get over it.” He shrugged, already dressed in his khaki cargo shorts and a yellow button-down shirt with colorful fish on it—his idea of party clothes. “You need to keep saying no, Dae. And mean it. I’ve heard the way you say no sometimes, and it sounds more like maybe. Do you want me to talk to him for you? I can handle this once and for all.”
I felt like I was a teenager again. “No, thanks. I can handle it. I’m going to get ready for the party.” I changed the subject. “So you and Mary Catherine, huh? Or should I say MC?”
“Get in there and get ready and stay out of my personal life,” he said. “Just because we live together doesn’t mean you get to poke around in my stuff and tell me what to do.”
“That’s funny. Wasn’t that what you were just doing with me, Jake, and Kevin?”
“I can do that. I’m older and wiser. The sooner you acknowledge that, the better off you’ll be. I recall explaining how this works years ago. It hasn’t changed. No matter how old you get, I’ll still be older.”
I laughed out loud at his statement, given in his professional law enforcement voice that I remembered so well. “You’re addressing the newly-elected mayor of Duck North Carolina,” I reminded him. “That gives me a certain amount of wisdom and foresight that someone my age wouldn’t necessarily have.”
“Whatever. Don’t forget to feed your cat before you go accept your accolades, Madam Mayor. If I decide to come home early, I don’t want to hear him crying all over the place and looking pitiful.”
Mary Catherine was staying in the spare bedroom. I ran lightly up the stairs with my cat following me. I’d named him Treasure because he’d come to me like so many other important gifts I’d found. Now he was so much a part of my life, I couldn’t imagine how it would be without him.
I wouldn’t say I could talk to animals—not like Mary Catherine—but Treasure and I communicated. I sat on the bed, and he jumped up beside me. I could tell that he wasn’t happy that I was going out again.
“I’m sorry.” I rubbed his white tummy. “People expect me to celebrate winning the election. I’ll be back later. I’ll feed you before I go.”
He meowed and jumped on the floor before pacing back and forth with his black tail swishing.
“I know you don’t like having Mary Catherine’s cat here. It won’t be for long. You’ll just have to get along with him. I think he mostly goes out everywhere with her. I know. You’d like to do that too. But you’re not the scarf type that I can drape over my shoulders.”
I smiled and stroked his shiny black fur. “I have to take a shower and get dressed. Life will be back to normal tomorrow. Maybe you can come with me to Missing Pieces. You like that.”
He was still complaining when I went into the bathroom. I ignored him, getting into the shower and rubbing some flower-scented shampoo into my short brown hair. The hot summer sun had bleached it out more than normal this year since I’d been outside so much. My tan was darker than usual too. Kevin had reminded me several times about using sunblock.
The hot water felt so good. I closed my eyes and let it pour down on me.
I felt guilty about not helping Jake when I could see he was in such bad shape. He needed someone. I just wasn’t sure I was that person. I didn’t know how to overcome my fear of the artifacts. Mary Catherine said she thought it was healthy. I felt cowardly about it.
Convincing myself to get out of the shower—I couldn’t hide here either—I swiped my hand across the steamy bathroom mirror. I practic
ed my big mayor’s smile that had become second nature to me. The smile looked as it always did, but didn’t reach my troubled blue eyes.
What if Mary Catherine was right and bad things were about to happen to us? Storms and floods we’d weathered—what about a horse cult? I didn’t really even understand yet how something like that could be a threat.
I’d made it through a pirate’s ghost, and a dead man trying to help me find his daughter. I’d been hoping for a slowdown in that kind of thing. I needed a nice, long vacation where only good things happened. It could be me and Kevin on a nice, calm beach together. No ghosts. No secrets. And definitely no possibly evil horse cults.
I opened the closet door and went to find the outfit I’d set aside for my possible re-election party. It was breezy, blue and purple, mid-length. I had beautiful, though uncomfortable, shoes that went with it. They matched so perfectly I couldn’t leave them at the shop.
My spirits began to pick up once I was dressed. I remembered all the exciting plans I had if I was elected mayor for another term. I was proud of my town and wanted to be part of its future.
Because it was the first time I’d worn the dress, I could also see that it was made in Duck at Sunflower Fancy. I could see my friend, Darcy, in her little sewing room in the back of the shop. She was a wonderful seamstress and I enjoyed wearing her clothes. They felt happy. It was much better than sensing a dress had been made in some far-off country by people who were miserable at their jobs.
The shoes were a different matter. As soon as my feet were in them, I could feel the large factory in China where they were made. At least, I reminded myself, no one had died while they were wearing them before me. I’d once put on a dress that a woman had drowned herself in. Not a pleasant experience.
There wasn’t much to do with my hair. I combed the flyaway brown wisps—it dried straight, like always. I put on some eye makeup and lipstick, and studied myself in the mirror again.
Treasure yowled.
“I know I look stupid smiling at myself. I can’t explain it. Mayors have to do it. Be glad you’re a cat!”
