A Timely Vision mpm-1

by Joyce Lavene

  In the dim moonlight, I made out a tiny key. It was too small to open a room. It looked like the kind of key that would open a jewelry box or diary. No matter, it would belong to Kevin like everything else here. My fingers itched to explore everything in the Blue Whale and discover its treasures. I shoved the key in my pocket and started up the last flight of stairs.

  “I might be having a heart attack, Dae.” Tim wheezed up behind me. “Slow down. This was supposed to be r omantic.”

  “If you got out of that police car and walked like everyone else in Duck, you wouldn’t be having such a hard time on these stairs,” I taunted him. Honestly, the mileage on those cars was incredible considering how small Duck was. More than once, I’d pushed the town council to buy bicycles, but the police had threatened to go on strike.

  “Are you two ever going to get up here?” Shayla yelled down the stairs. “I don’t even want to think what’s going on down there.”

  The fact that she was yelling down at us made me think nothing much was going on with her and Kevin up on the third floor. That lightened my heart a little, but I put it down to jealousy.

  “You know,” Tim huffed, “I wanted to ask you something important while we’re alone, Dae.”

  I knew it was uncharitable of me, but I couldn’t help but grimace.

  “I know I’ve asked you before,” he continued. “I don’t know if you’ve ever taken me seriously. I’m a stable man, Dae. You’ve known me all your life. I’d make a good husband. I cook and clean up after myself. I’ve been doing laundry since I was nine.”

  It always went the same way. I wished he’d take no for an answer. I felt cruel having to refuse him over and over again. But better to be alone than with someone I didn’t love.

  “And someday, your grandfather will be gone, and you’ll be alone. You should marry me before that happens. We can live with him and take care of him. That house is plenty big for all of us and a few kids. So what do you think? Will you marry me, Dae?”

  At that moment, a flashlight beam played over us. I realized Kevin had been close by, close enough to hear Tim pop the question. “Sorry. I thought you guys might be lost,” he said.

  Kevin’s voice had that strange tone people use when they’re curious about something they’ve heard or seen but they don’t want to pry. I wanted to assure him that there was nothing intimate about the moment, but I couldn’t do that to Tim. It was one thing for me to make fun of him in my own mind but another to help someone else make fun of him.

  “No, we’re fine.” Tim’s breathless voice came from behind me.

  I couldn’t really see Kevin’s face because the flashlight beam was pointed in my general direction. It was an awkward moment, at least for me. I didn’t want Kevin to get the wrong idea about me and Tim. “Did you open the door yet?”

  “Not yet,” Kevin assured me. “We were waiting for you.”

  Maybe he’d think I felt embarrassed about him overhearing the proposal and not mention it again. I certainly hoped so as I started up the stairs, without answering Tim’s still-lingering question. Tim followed, a bit more slowly, and we met up with Kevin on the third-floor landing. Here, the window overlooked the ocean. The light rippled on the waves coming in at low tide.

  “I’m glad you finally found them,” Shayla said as we approached her. She was standing next to the door of the locked room, one hip resting against the wall. The sarcasm in her tone was obvious, at least to me. She hadn’t wanted Kevin to come back and look for us.

  “Well, we’re all here.” I walked up to the door and pretended an excitement I wasn’t really feeling. There was a damp, moldy smell to the place that I hoped Kevin would be able to get rid of before he tried to rent out rooms. It was the smell of decay and neglect, maybe even dust and cobwebs. I wanted to be out walking the beach, trying to find that elusive ghost that Shayla took for granted. “Let’s see what’s inside.”

  Kevin stepped up and inserted the key in the lock. It made a grating sound as it turned. The door swung open on stiff old hinges. There was a strange whoosh of air that carried an unpleasant odor. I supposed any room would smell bad after being closed up for thirty years.

  This room faced the ocean too. I could see the beach through the dirty panes. The moonlight flowed in like a spotlight, illuminating the room. A desk with an old crook-neck lamp was barely visible in one corner, a simple bed and chest of drawers completing the room.

  “Is this it?” Shayla asked in a very quiet voice.

  “What were you expecting?” I responded.

  “It looks like someone’s sitting at the desk over there.” Tim pointed. “Must be a trick of the light.”

  Kevin walked closer to the desk. The beam from the flashlight shone on something I’d hoped never to see again—a dead person. But this time, it was only the skeletal remains. Empty eye sockets stared back at us. Bony fingers rested on the desk.

  I heard Shayla gag beside me, and we both stepped back from the grisly scene.

  “Someone’s sitting at the desk, all right,” Kevin said. “I think he or she has been here for a long time.”

  Chapter 7

  Tim and Kevin hustled Shayla and me out of the room before calling the police. When Chief Michaels finally arrived, he came trudging up the stairs rather than using the elevator. Who knew the chief and I had a fear of elevators in common? Not that he’d admit it.

  “I don’t understand why we couldn’t look around a bit,” Shayla complained from the floor where she’d plopped down at least half an hour earlier. “You both have police training. They wouldn’t have known we were in there.”

  “It’s about crime-scene preservation,” Tim began. He paced up and down the dark hall ranting about people who disturb crime scenes and how difficult it makes life for police officers. “Don’t you agree, Brickman?”

  “Yes. Otherwise I’d be in there cleaning out that mess.”

  “Imagine whoever it is being in there all this time,” I added. “We thought Duck had a low homicide rate. Instead, dead people are lurking everywhere.”

  “I’m sure that’s not the case, Mayor.” The chief came out of the room as another man came up behind him. “This is Agent Brooks Walker of the SBI. He’s here to check this out with us.”

  Agent Walker shook my hand briefly. He was a short man, barely five feet. I could see his graying brown hair in the flashlight beams as several other Duck police officers joined us. “Mayor O’Donnell. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I wish it were under better circumstances. You seem to have a knack for finding dead people.”

  I was about to vigorously defend myself when Kevin stepped in and shook hands with him. “It looks like we meet again, Agent Walker. Whatever bad luck Mayor O’Donnell is going through right now, I seem to be part of it too.”

  Agent Walker looked up at Kevin, and a small smile appeared on his mouth. “Yes, that much is evident. Who are these people?”

  Tim introduced Shayla, then said, “We already met, Agent Walker. I’m Officer Mabry, the chief’s assistant.”

  “That’s right. I knew I recognized you.” Walker shook his hand, then glanced around the crowded hall as he put on some latex gloves. “Let’s take a look at what we’ve got here, gentlemen.”

  Two hours later, Shayla and I were still waiting to find out what was going on. The chief had informed us as delicately as he could that he didn’t want us to leave the Blue Whale until they’d had a look at the crime scene, in case he had any questions. Kevin and Tim had become part of the group investigating upstairs while we waited downstairs in the bar.

  “You think they like us for the murder?” Shayla asked as she sipped a Coke.

  “You watch too much TV.”

  “There’s nothing else to do out here in the winter. I’m lucky if I have one or two tarot readings a week. What do you do?”

  “I read. Books, not palms or cards. Once in a while, I watch TV or help Gramps work on the boat. Last winter, I painted the house. You know that.”

&n
bsp; “Sounds to me like your life is as boring as mine. Without tourists, we’re nothing.”

  It was a depressing thought but one I knew many permanent residents (especially those with businesses) agreed with. People talked all the time about ways to bring tourists down to the Outer Banks in the winter. It never quite seemed to happen. I was glad I didn’t make it a campaign promise.

  “How long does it take to do this anyway?” Shayla whined.

  I heard the squeak of the old elevator. “Sounds like it must be done. Quit slumping over that drink and sit up straight.”

  “Yes, Mom.”

  Kevin, Tim and Agent Walker entered the bar as we heard the elevator heading back up to the third floor. “Where did you say you found that gun, Brickman?” Agent Walker asked.

  “It was behind the old cash register.” Kevin showed him the secret drawer. “I was fooling around and found it.”

  I started to speak but managed to catch myself. This might be one time where showing off wasn’t to my advantage. Kevin seemed all right with the idea of me telling the SBI the full truth about finding Miss Elizabeth. Why was he protecting me now?

  “We’ll have to keep the gun until ballistics has a look at it.” Agent Walker barely glanced at the secret drawer. “I expect there are plenty of secret passages and places in here. My granddad used to help raid these old hotels regularly during the twenties and thirties. Probably found a still or two out here too.”

  “I haven’t done much on the upper floors,” Kevin said. “This is the only secret compartment I’ve found so far.”

  Agent Walker nodded, obviously beginning to get bored with the conversation. “Well, it’s a nice place, Brickman. I don’t know why anyone would give up your position with the FBI for this, but to each his own, I always say.”

  Shayla and I were apparently not to be questioned by the SBI. Probably because we were with Kevin and Tim when we found the dead person. It probably helped that the person had been dead for a long time. I shuddered, thinking about the skeletal form at the desk.

  When Agent Walker had left the bar, Shayla pounced on Kevin. “What happened? Who’s dead now?”

  “A man by the name of John Simpson, according to his wallet,” he said. “It looked like he’d been shot once in the back of the head. Whoever did it was secure about leaving his personal possessions with him. All his personal effects were intact.”

  Tim frowned. “Why didn’t Agent Walker tell me? You’re not even a real FBI agent anymore.”

  “Are you saying that’s Wild Johnny Simpson up there?” I demanded in disbelief. How often is it that you come face-to-face with a legend?

  “You mean, you know that guy?” Shayla seemed amazed. Of course, she wasn’t from Duck and hadn’t grown up with all of the stories I’d heard about the two sisters and their lover.

  “Not personally,” I explained. “It’s like folklore around here. Everyone knows about Miss Elizabeth and Wild Johnny Simpson.”

  “Well, I don’t know about it, and Kevin probably doesn’t either. I think we should go get a drink and discuss it.” Shayla smiled at her date.

  “I could make us a drink right here,” he said.

  “Please! There’s a dead guy upstairs. It was bad enough that I had to see him. And smell him.” Shayla grabbed her purse. “Let’s get out of here.”

  We decided to walk back to Wild Stallions since it would be the only place open this late. Somehow as we walked down the narrow road between the heavy bushes, Shayla ended up in front with Tim, and I found myself in back with Kevin. Except for the sound of the ocean, the night was quiet. Most of the traffic on Duck Road was already gone.

  “I hope you don’t mind that I took credit for finding the hidden drawer,” he said.

  “I was a little curious about why you did it. You were the one who told me I should be honest with Agent Walker tomorrow.” I corrected myself: “I mean, today.”

  “I know. But it’s my place, and I felt like I should take the responsibility. I can correct it, if you want me to.”

  “That’s all right. I guess I’ll have enough to talk about with Agent Walker at our interview.”

  “That’s what I was thinking.” He glanced around as the steady breeze stirred the bushes near us. “This place has atmosphere, doesn’t it? Even without finding a thirty-year-old corpse in the inn.”

  “He wasn’t thirty,” I corrected. “He had to be in his sixties when he was killed. He would’ve been about the same age as the sisters.”

  “That’s not what I meant. We’ll have to wait for the ME to know for sure, but I’d be willing to guess he’s been up there since the Blue Whale closed thirty years ago. He was already almost mummified.”

  Thankfully, our exit off the side street and onto Duck Road saved me from having to think about that last comment. We switched partners as we crossed the road and headed for the bar.

  It had been a long day, beginning with the purse snatching and ending with yet another homicide for Chief Michaels to investigate. I yawned as we went up the stairs to the boardwalk that led to the bar. I wasn’t looking forward to a drink, instead wishing I were home in bed. It was only a few hours until my interview with Agent Walker. I wanted to be awake for it. I’m not much of a night person.

  Someone must’ve heard me because Cody, one of Wild Stallions’ owners, was already closing up. “Sorry. I have to close early. My wife is in labor. Rain check?”

  “Of course!” I hoped I didn’t sound as relieved as I felt. “Give Sally my love.”

  “Thanks, Dae. We’ll let you know how it turns out.”

  We seemed to be at a loss for something to do. We were close to Missing Pieces, so I offered to make coffee at the shop. Shayla wasn’t happy about being denied her rum (she seems to be part pirate), but Kevin and Tim were happy to accept.

  Shayla made up for her disappointment by sitting between Kevin and Tim on the brocade sofa, leaving me to make the coffee and haul out the chair from behind the counter for myself. By that time, Tim had already told the story about Miss Elizabeth and Wild Johnny Simpson. I poured four cups of coffee and put cream and sugar on the table. It was almost anticlimactic for me to sit down.

  “Wow! What a story!” Shayla laughed and rolled her eyes. “Do you think Miss Elizabeth or Miss Mildred killed Johnny and left him up there at the Blue Whale?”

  Tim shrugged. “I guess it could’ve been either one of them if they did it with that little gun. Anybody could handle that.”

  “First, one of them would have to have some connection with the owner,” Kevin said.

  “If it’s only been thirty years,” I reminded them, “Johnny’s death happened well after the sisters fought over him. I can’t imagine either one of them going up there and killing him.”

  “I don’t know,” Tim said. “Those two always had that between them. If Miss Mildred knew Johnny was here, I wouldn’t put it past her.”

  Shayla put down her cup and yawned. “As interesting as all of this is, I have to go. I have a bikini wax at seven thirty. I’d hate to mess that up.”

  Tim offered to take her home. “I’ve got the car out front. I have to go past your place anyway.”

  “Okay.” Shayla glanced at Kevin, no doubt to see if he had any reaction to Tim’s proposal. “I guess I’ll see you two tomorrow.”

  “I could take you too, Kevin,” Tim offered as an afterthought.

  “No, that’s okay. I’d rather walk. See you later, Shayla.”

  Shayla’s disappointment was written on her pretty face. “Yeah. Maybe tomorrow?”

  “Maybe.” Kevin showed no sign of remorse at letting her go with Tim.

  As Tim and Shayla called out their good-nights, I carried the coffee cups over to the small sink in the back of the shop and began washing them out. Kevin brought the coffeepot over to me. I thanked him, and then my mind immediately leapt to small talk. “I think the Blue Whale will be nice when you finish it.”

  “Thanks. I won’t be able to do much until th
ey get done with the investigation. It’s hard to believe that guy was up there all that time and nobody knew.”

  “Except the killer.” I took the coffeepot from him.

  “That’s true,” he agreed.

  “I can’t believe there are two deaths being investigated in Duck at the same time. It will be on everybody’s blog and the topic of conversation for years. That’s the way we are.”

  “I like it. I like Duck. I’m sorry I didn’t retire years ago.” He glanced around Missing Pieces. “Can I walk you home?”

  “No. That’s okay. I might hang around a while and do some straightening up.” I was lying, of course. I could hardly keep my eyes open. All I wanted to do was lie down and not get up until morning. But I needed him for the interview with Agent Walker, and it didn’t seem right to impose on him anymore. We didn’t know each other that well. “Good night, Kevin. I’m glad we found your key, even if it did lead to something terrible.”

  He smiled. “It was good that we found him. Someone probably misses him. I guess you are good at finding lost things. Good night, Dae.”

  I locked the door behind him, stuck my hand in my pocket and remembered the key I’d found on the stairs. It was too late to call him back. I’d have to give it to him later. I took it out and looked at it again in the light. I was right about the size and shape of it. Someone had probably dropped it years ago before the Blue Whale was closed. I knew from the way I’d felt when I picked it up that the key was important. But right now I was tired and couldn’t think about it anymore. I opened the cash register and stashed the key inside.

  It had been a very eventful day, too eventful. I still hadn’t recovered from finding Miss Elizabeth. I didn’t need the added anxiety of finding another dead person. I turned out the lights and sat down on the old brocade sofa.

  I wondered what Johnny Simpson had been doing back in Duck after all those years. Had anyone known he was here? Obviously, someone knew. It was likely that person was the one who’d killed him. Could it have been one of the sisters?