by Joyce Lavene
Sheriff Riley whistled. “Close call. You might’ve been killed. I never heard of so many wild horses being down in this area. Are you sure you didn’t have a little too much to drink, Dae? I heard you only made it to one post-election party because you were ill. Was it something else?”
“I know you don’t like it when I tell you these things, but there were no real horses. I could smell them and hear them. But there was nothing there.”
“That doesn’t explain the hoof prints all over the road and on top of our victim.” Gramps passed my phone around with the pictures I’d taken. “You were right to call it a weird night, Chief.”
Chief Michaels looked at the photos. “Every call we went out on was the same. Tim, Scott, and I went out to dozens of houses tonight. Lots of hoof prints, but no one actually saw any horses. Everyone heard them, though, and they did plenty of damage. Fences were trampled, lawn furniture destroyed, even a broken window.”
Sheriff Riley laughed. “Are we talking ghost horses now? Because if so, I’m going home. I’ve never seen or heard a horse that wasn’t really there. And I don’t want to.”
“But what if Mr. Watts was killed by these horses?” Chief Palo handed the phone back to me after examining the pictures. “It seems too coincidental to overlook that he was killed during this stampede.”
“Maybe someone is training killer horses.” Sheriff Riley hooted. “That’s even funnier than ghost horses.”
“Well then you’ll love this,” I added. “The horses came after I found the body. Tom was already dead when the horses, or whatever it was, ran by me.”
“Now that makes sense,” Sheriff Riley said. “Someone hit this man with a car and let loose a few wild horses to cover it up. Sound like anyone we know? Maybe someone with a grudge against Tom?”
Chief Michaels nodded. “We all know Jake Burleson fits the bill, Tuck. He was here in Duck tonight skulking around the Blue Whale during the post-election party. I saw him myself.”
“There have been some confrontations between them,” Chief Palo confirmed. “I’ve had officers out at the ranch almost every day. Mr. Burleson wants to keep his land for the wild horses. Tom agrees with the state that it should be taken for the excavation. It’s been ugly out there.”
“I don’t think you understand what I’m saying.” I looked at their mostly closed faces. “There were no real horses on the road.”
“Thanks, Dae,” Chief Michaels said. “Why don’t you write down exactly what happened, and what you did? We’re gonna go down and have a look at the crime scene. Keep the coffee coming.”
I didn’t attempt to convince them after that. This wasn’t the first time they’d wanted to overlook my gift and things I’d seen. I hoped this would be different and I wouldn’t have to prove it to them. I also hoped—despite my hard feelings toward him—that Jake wasn’t responsible for what had happened to Tom. They had been such good friends for so many years.
Chief Palo hadn’t gone out with the men. “Thank you for sharing your experience, Dae. And congratulations on your re-election. I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind actually walking me through what you saw tonight. I’ve found in the past that people remember better if they’re where it happened.”
“Sure. Let me get my coat, Heidi. You might find that things are a little different here. Sometimes, I can see things when I touch people or their belongings. That might sound strange, but I’ve been doing it my whole life. And I’ve been helping the police since I was a teenager.”
She had a beautiful smile that altered the sternness of her face. “I moved from Minnesota to take this position. We have psychics there too. I’ve never worked with one, but that doesn’t mean I don’t believe it’s possible.”
“A word of advice.” I zipped my coat. “The towns around here are very small and people love to gossip. If you’re going to try to keep your relationship with Tuck Riley a secret, you’ll have to try harder.”
“Oh no!” She frowned. “What did I say that gave it away?”
“It wasn’t just you,” I told her as I pushed open the front door. “Tuck wasn’t on his best game either. I’ve never seen his hair a mess. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him blush either.”
“He’s not going to like it.”
“I won’t tell anyone, but these things have a way of getting out. The two of you should come clean and face the inquisition. It will be over quickly, I promise.”
“Thank you, Dae. I’ll talk to Tuck and see what he thinks.”
I didn’t tell her that Tuck Riley could be a stubborn mule when he chose. She’d find that out by herself. We walked down to the road where the EMS was waiting to collect Tom. They couldn’t move him until the medical examiner said it was okay. That could take a while since he was coming from Manteo.
Heidi and I walked the street together with me explaining exactly what I’d done and seen. The snow was already melting. I bent down to have a look where I’d photographed one of the hoof prints.
“Dae.” She pointed to a spot on the road that she’d cleaned with a gloved hand. “This hoof print looks burned into the pavement. How is that possible?”
Chapter Seven
I called Gramps over to have a look at what we found. Each place we wiped free of snow where a hoof print had been, there was now a print etched in the road.
“That’s crazy,” he said. “What could’ve caused such a thing?”
I knew what it was, but I didn’t say—not in front of Heidi. I told him later when everyone was gone and the medical examiner had finally arrived to take Tom’s body.
“It was the demon horses,” I told him as he was getting ready to go to the Duck police station. “That’s why I couldn’t see them.”
“Dae, maybe you shouldn’t take that vision so literally. It could just be the way the horses hooves hit the blacktop. I don’t know. One thing I do know—the ME said horses didn’t kill Tom. He said the object that hit him in the head caused his death and that object didn’t have the weight and power that would come from a horse. It wasn’t a horse’s hoof, although he seems to think the wound is shaped like one.”
“Exactly! The demon horses have no weight. Gramps, you know I’m right. No one ever wants to admit it, but how many times have my visions been right?”
“You have to let the process work. We have to understand what it isn’t to know what it is sometimes. You know I’ve always supported your gift. Your grandmother’s ghost would haunt me if I didn’t, bless her soul. But you can’t expect most rational people to understand what you can do. Let’s just let the ME go through the evidence. We’ll know soon enough what happened.”
He kissed the top of my head and left. I assumed he’d said something to Mary Catherine before then. Missing Pieces was supposed to be open again today, but I waited for her to come downstairs before I left.
She was dressed in emerald green, Baylor draped around her neck and shoulders. Her hat was a matching wool cap that was very attractive.
“Good morning . . . again. How did everything turn out when the police showed up?”
“I wish it had been better. I told Gramps my theory of what happened after I found Tom. He didn’t want to hear it.”
“Not surprising. Your grandfather is a good man, but he doesn’t have a psychic gift. Someone like that can understand and commiserate. He’ll never really know—not like we do. I’m afraid your new fiancé will be the same way. That’s why I go so long between husbands. It’s not like I wouldn’t like to find husband number six. I’m just not always sure it’s worth the hassle.”
I sighed, knowing she was probably right. “But I don’t want to be alone my whole life either. At least Kevin and Gramps have some idea what’s going on.”
She nodded and stroked Baylor.
“Come on. Let’s go get some coffee and a bagel.” I called Treasure and put him in my tote bag. “Then I have to go to Missing Pieces. I have a UPS delivery and a pickup. I need to be there for a while anyway. My sales are a
lways off in November. It’s hard to make summer money last the rest of the year.”
“Sounds exciting!”
The snow was completely gone by the time we went outside. The frosty branches and white rooftops were just a memory. But the hoof prints etched into the road were still there. I showed them to Mary Catherine and took a few pictures.
“I never knew horses’ hooves could do that,” she said. “You’re right. They appear to be burned right into the pavement. How odd. I’ll listen for any horse chatter around the island. I’m sure the horses are frightened and confused too. This is probably what they’ve been worried about.”
Walking down Duck Road with Mary Catherine was a strange experience. Two sea gulls flew down and walked with us for a while, squawking the whole time. She talked to them like she was talking to two old friends. They answered back, and she frowned.
As we reached the edge of the Duck Shoppes’ parking lot, a rat came right up to her and rested its head on her shoe. She smiled and even scratched its ear. The rat ran away into the tangled brush.
“What was that about?” I asked.
“Oh, the rat was nothing. He just wanted to say hello. But the seagulls were interesting. They’ve already heard the story of the invisible horses. They aren’t frightened by them—they’re creatures of the air and not subject to the same fears as we who live on the earth. But they were very interested and shared your view about the supernatural aspect of what happened to your friend.”
“Wow. That’s amazing. Do they always just run up and talk to you?”
“Oh no. Many times I have to go looking for animals I need to talk to. They aren’t always as forthcoming as seagulls.”
We walked into the crowded coffeehouse and bookstore in the Duck Shoppes’ parking lot. The people waiting in line and seated at tables were as chatty as the seagulls, but more afraid.
“I want to know what someone is going to do about those horses knocking down my fence,” Martha Segall said in a loud voice. “And here’s the mayor. What are you going to do about this, Dae?”
It would have to be Martha’s fence.
Everyone turned to stare. I plastered my big mayor’s smile on my face and addressed the situation. “Chief Michaels and Sheriff Riley are looking into the events of last night. Try not to worry. I’m sure there’s a rational explanation for everything.”
“What about the dead man they said was found on Duck Road?” Barney Thompson asked. He owned the Sand Dollar jewelry store.
“The police are looking into that too,” I promised. “I’ll have the town clerk send out emails to everyone on her list when we have any updates.”
“What if we don’t have a computer?” Agnes Caudle ran the Beach Bakery. “I don’t have a computer.”
“In that case, someone from public works will call you.” Chris Slayton was standing behind me. “Jamie has a sign-up sheet at the counter. If you aren’t on the email list, leave your name and phone number.”
There was a lot of grumbling and complaining. People were nervous and afraid after the unsettling night. I knew exactly how they felt and could only imagine what the council meeting would be like tomorrow. I hoped things would quickly settle down.
Mary Catherine and I finally reached the counter. I ordered two coffees and two bagels with cream cheese. We took them to the shop so I could open for the day. It was better to leave before there were any other complaints too. People weren’t as likely to come into Missing Pieces to ask questions.
Maybe that was cruel, but I was short on answers that anyone would want to hear besides being scared that my vision could be true and demon horses were visiting Duck.
There weren’t many people in the parking lot or on the boardwalk. It was early, though. People might come later in the day. Hurricane season was over, but many shops were closing down for the winter. Everyone knew about the seasonal issue and stayed away.
Chris had a brilliant plan for bringing people to Duck and other parts of the Outer Banks for the holiday season. The Tourism Association had not only picked up on the idea but also made Chris head of the event. It was called OBX Christmas. Every town was supposed to light up and dress up for the holiday between Thanksgiving and the first of the year. We’d never done it before, always seeing November as the end of the season.
Chris already had the backing of the Duck Business Association and the Chamber of Commerce. Most of the shop owners were members of one of the organizations so they already knew the plans. We’d been asked to come up with discounted merchandise for the promotion too.
I got the door open to the shop just in time for the UPS man to arrive. My usual driver was on vacation, but Josephine was helpful and picked up my packages in no time. She was immediately followed by my first customers of the day. Jessie Morton, and her husband Chase Manhattan, were visiting from Myrtle Beach.
“What did you have in mind?” I asked the attractive couple.
“I’m always looking for antique craft items for Renaissance Faire Village,” she told me. “Chase is just along for the ride.”
“Unless you have any swords or interesting horses,” he called back from the side of the shop where he was already perusing my merchandise. He was a large man with big shoulders and a long brown hair tied back on his neck.
Jessie was average in appearance except for her height. She was tall, like Heidi Palo.
Mary Catherine and I exchanged curious glances when Chase mentioned horses. She continued to eat her bagel and drink her coffee.
“What kind of interesting horses?” I wondered if he was really a reporter and had already heard about what had happened last night.
“He collects horse figures,” Jessie explained. “He’s a knight at the Ren Faire and trains jousters and knights. He’s also a member of the Templar Knights. He isn’t too fussy about his horses. You have the wild horses here, right?”
“What about this sword?” Chase took one of the more valuable pieces off the rack. “What’s its history?”
“You’ve got a good eye,” I complimented, glad that we’d gotten away from the subject of horses. I was also happy that he didn’t immediately ask how much. That was one of my rules for selling some of my more valuable possessions. “That sword belonged to the first mayor of Charleston, South Carolina. They said he was originally a pirate that couldn’t be defeated by the English so they bought him off with a land grant and position.”
He examined the sword closely. “I like the hilt, but it doesn’t look English. French, maybe.”
“You’re right about that.” My little heart thrilled when an educated collector came to Missing Pieces. “The sword was given to him by his French wife. She’d sailed with him when he was a pirate. They settled down, married, and had ten children. I came upon this sword at an estate sale in Charleston. The last member of their family had died. All their possessions had been kept so well. This sword was the best of the lot.”
Chase smiled at Jessie.
She rolled her eyes. “Really? You have a lot of swords.”
“And you have a lot of other things. Besides we have more room now. There can be more swords and horses.”
“Whatever.” She turned her back to examine an old spinning wheel.
“I’ll take it.” Chase put the sword and his VISA card on the glass counter.
“I’m very happy it’s going to live with someone like you who’ll appreciate it.” I wrapped the sword in protective paper and processed the transaction.
I tried to help Jessie find something too, but she couldn’t settle on anything. Happily, the purchase of the sword was enough to keep Missing Pieces open for a few months. I didn’t sell many items this valuable, but when I did it was a big help, stretching my money to make ends meet.
“Was all that true about the sword?” Mary Catherine asked after Jessie and Chase were gone. “Did you hold it?”
“I knew almost everything about it before I held it. There was a bloody history with it from the mayor’s pirate past,
but I saw it as a love story too. Those two people were very happy together. I hope it brings the same luck to Jessie and Chase. Imagine living at a Renaissance Festival.”
“I’ve been there, but only for a short time,” Mary Catherine said. “I had a wonderful weekend with a man who was king of the village. I think his name was Harold. It was a while back.”
It didn’t take long for the concerned citizens of Duck to realize that I was at Missing Pieces. People stopped in to gossip and express their concerns about a man being killed in the middle of town. There were hundreds of rumors floating through Duck about what had happened the night before.
I was sad that most of them hadn’t known Tom since he had lived in Corolla. They knew his work though, and were sorry that he’d been killed. Many wondered, as I had, who would take his place as director of the Wild Horse Conservancy.
The natural answer seemed to be that Jake would be the one to do it. I hoped that would be the case, and that Chief Michaels and Sheriff Riley didn’t seriously consider him a suspect in Tom’s death. But just because I wanted it to happen didn’t make it so.
August Grandin from the Duck General Store came by before he opened to see if I had any other information about the event. “I’m really concerned that Tom Watts is dead. It seems to me that it has to be hit and run, probably by someone from Duck who left him there. I hope Chief Michaels is checking cars to find the culprit.”
I assured him that everything was being done that could be done. I hoped I was right about that. It wasn’t that I didn’t have complete faith in our police department. It was more that the odd nature of the death made me wonder if anyone could actually figure it out without some psychic help.
Business was slow. More people came in more to discuss Tom’s death than to shop. At lunch, I treated Mary Catherine out at Wild Stallions. Most of the time, I just ate a sandwich at Missing Pieces. But things were slow, I had a guest, and I’d made a large sale. I decided we should go out. I left a sign on the shop door pointing anyone looking for me in the direction of the restaurant.
