A Timely Vision mpm-1

by Joyce Lavene

  I don’t know what possessed me, but I put it on loosely over my hair and held the black dress up against me. I looked at myself in the full-length mirror that hung on the closet door and almost jumped out of my skin.

  “Holy Mary Mother of God!” Tim backed out of the room as quickly as he’d come in.

  I couldn’t find my voice as I stared at myself in the mirror. I didn’t move, didn’t turn away from the ghastly reflection.

  “What the hell is going on, Dae?” He strode back in with a determined look on his face. “Where did you get that? Is that someone’s idea of a sick joke? I’ve heard of people doing things like this for Halloween, but it isn’t funny.”

  I moved, finally feeling free of the spell that had come over me. I took off the wig and held the dress back to look at it. “It was here. There has to be some reasonable explanation for it.”

  “What do you mean? It doesn’t have to make any sense. Put it down and let’s get out of here. Did you find the checkbook?”

  I nodded. “Why would Mary Lou have this getup?”

  “Who cares? Let’s get out of here, huh? You’re starting to creep me out.”

  “I don’t think we were supposed to see this, Tim.”

  “Don’t even say it, Dae. It’s only a dress. There are probably hundreds of them, thousands of them. And lots of older women wear wigs, right? They cover hair loss and stuff with them.”

  “Mary Lou dyes her hair Gentle Sable Brown. I was at Curves and Curls when she was having it done. Nobody wears a gray wig to cover that.”

  “I don’t care.” He snatched the wig from me and threw it on the bed. “We don’t have any business being in here, looking at her private things. Put the dress down and let’s get back to the beach. They’re going to wonder what’s taking us so long.”

  “Tim, think about this for a moment,” I urged. “Someone brought Miss Elizabeth’s purse to Miss Mildred. That person made her think it was her dead sister. We’ve kind of assumed she saw Miss Elizabeth’s ghost and that maybe someone from OBX Land Trust made her think that. But what if it wasn’t them? What if it was Mary Lou?”

  “Now you stop and think! Why would Mary Lou do such a thing? Are you really saying you think she had something to do with Miss Elizabeth’s death? That’s crazy talk. Your blood sugar must be low or high, whichever it is that makes people do crazy things. Mary Lou didn’t hurt Miss Elizabeth. She sure didn’t dress up like a ghost to take her purse back to Miss Mildred. Get a grip, Dae, and let’s get out of here.”

  I bit my lip, but I couldn’t leave. “We can’t ignore this. We have to tell someone.”

  “I’m a sworn officer of the law.” His face contorted with anger. “I can’t go in people’s houses, pick up their things and accuse them of murder. It wouldn’t stand up in court, for one thing, and I’d lose my job for another. We have to go.”

  “You can’t do it, but I can.” I picked up the wig again. “We have to know what happened. Can’t you see that? We have to confront her with it.”

  “Then what? She falls all over herself to tell us the truth? If what you’re suggesting is true, Dae, Mary Lou went out of her way to throw the blame on someone else. I’m not saying she’s hard, but someone like that has it thought out. You know what I mean? We’ll have to talk to the chief, get a search warrant and then confront her at the station. That’s the way it’s gotta be done. Nice and legal.”

  “I’m taking it with me.” I heaped some clothes over the spot where I’d found the dress. “If we leave it here and she destroys it, we’ll never know what happened. There has to be another way.”

  I thought Tim might try to stop me, but he stepped aside. “I’m not saying Mary Lou had anything to do with this, but you do what you think is right. You always do. Hell, I think she might be related to me. That’s a whole nightmare if she is convicted of a crime. The chief might never trust me again. They say it’s genetic.”

  “We can’t stand here discussing it.” I found an empty shopping bag and stuffed the dress and wig into it. “I’ll think of something. You can pretend you didn’t know anything about it. I don’t think the chief will think any less of you if you’re related to Mary Lou. Besides, there might be some other explanation for why it’s here.”

  “You mean besides Mary Lou killing Miss Elizabeth, then trying to blame it on Miss Mildred?” He shuddered. “We need to get out of here now. I don’t think that breakfast burrito is sitting right with me.”

  I swept up the checkbook as I walked out of the house, determined not to doubt myself. Taking the dress and the wig was the right thing to do, but I needed to figure out what my next step should be. Mary Lou was as much a part of my life as the two sisters. She was even dating Gramps. But something was wrong. I didn’t believe I’d found the dress and wig for nothing. I had to think of a way to get Mary Lou to tell me why she had them. I could only hope Tim was right and there was a good explanation besides the one that had crept into my brain.

  We got back in the police car, and Tim cautioned me about what I could say. “If you say anything about finding that dress and wig, no one will be able to use it in a court of law.”

  “I don’t plan on saying anything. What would be the point?”

  He nodded. “Exactly. It’s obviously a mistake. Maybe the dress and wig don’t go together. Maybe she had the same dress as Miss Elizabeth. And she had an old person wig from before. Maybe Halloween or something.”

  I looked at him as he started the engine. “You don’t really believe that, do you?”

  “I don’t know what to believe. And neither do you. You should put that dress back in Mary Lou’s house, and we should forget we saw it.”

  “And let Miss Mildred take the blame for killing her sister?”

  “Let it go, Dae.” That was his last word on the subject before he raced out of the drive. We didn’t speak again until we reached the turtle rescue area and Carter waved us through.

  I saw Gramps getting out of his golf cart, Kevin in tow. I took the shopping bag that held the dress and wig and stashed it under the seat in the golf cart. I glanced around to see if Tim was watching. He was talking to Chief Michaels. They both turned and stared at me, but by that time, the bag was out of sight.

  “Are you in trouble?” Gramps asked with a nod toward the two police officers.

  “I can’t explain right now,” I answered quickly when I saw them walking toward us. “I have to take this checkbook to Mary Lou.”

  “I can take care of that if you need to do something else,” he volunteered.

  I looked at his dear face and kissed his cheek. “I’m sorry if I hurt you. I mean, if I ever hurt you. I would never do it without really believing I didn’t have any choice.”

  He frowned and glanced over my shoulder toward Chief Michaels. “Dae, you’re worrying me. Is there something I should know?”

  “Not now. Not here. I’ll tell you later.” I handed him the checkbook, relieved that I wouldn’t have to face Mary Lou. I wasn’t sure my face wouldn’t give me away. I didn’t want her to get in trouble, but I wouldn’t let Miss Mildred spend the rest of her life in an institution because of something someone else did.

  I didn’t want it to be Mary Lou. It would’ve been a lot more convenient for Chuck Sparks or Jerry Richards to be the one who’d killed Miss Elizabeth. They were greedy, grasping people who didn’t care who they hurt in their quest for money. I would’ve gladly handed over evidence to Chief Michaels that proved they were the ones responsible.

  “Mayor.” Chief Michaels addressed me with a general nod in my direction.

  “Chief. I see they volunteered you too.” I could see Kevin kind of nonchalantly standing in earshot of us.

  “Tim tells me you have something to say.”

  I glanced at Tim, who was standing behind the chief. “No. Not really.”

  “Is something wrong? Tim says you went to Mary Lou’s house and picked up some items.”

  I wished my eyes were laser beams that could
burn a hole in Tim’s forehead. The man couldn’t keep his mouth shut, especially around the chief. He didn’t want me to say anything, but he thought it was okay for him to say something. I didn’t know what he expected me to do.

  “She sent me there to pick up her checkbook. Tim brought some baskets out here too.” I wasn’t going to say anything about the dress and wig. At least not until I could figure out what to do with them. I really felt that sharing this information with the chief wasn’t the way to go.

  It was the chief’s turn to glare at Tim. “Would one of you mind telling me what in blazes is going on? Tim says you found something over at Mary Lou’s house, but he won’t tell me what it is. You’re telling me it’s a checkbook and some baskets. Is that about right?”

  I shoved my hands in my pockets. “That’s about right.”

  The chief exhaled loudly and his nostrils flared. “I don’t understand you young people. I swear I don’t.”

  “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to be difficult.” I gave him my best mayoral smile and walked away. It was hard since I was nervous about the bag under the seat in the golf cart. I was afraid I might look at it as I walked by. Or was I trying too hard not to look at it?

  Neither one of them followed me or rummaged around in the golf cart, so I thought I was safe. Confused and uncertain, but safe. I glanced over my shoulder briefly to see Chief Michaels yelling at Tim, and even making strangling motions with his hands.

  “So what did you really find?”

  I jumped when I heard Kevin’s voice from behind me. I’d forgotten about him in my eagerness to get away. “You startled me.”

  “Sorry. What did you find in Mary Lou’s house?”

  I didn’t tell the chief. I didn’t plan to tell Kevin. I wasn’t sure who to trust with the information. “If you were eavesdropping carefully, you know I got the checkbook and Tim got the baskets. That’s all. End of story.”

  “I saw you give your grandfather the checkbook. And I saw Tim take the baskets to one of the volunteers. That leaves whatever you put in the golf cart. I think it was too big to be a check and too small to be a basket. Is there some reason you don’t want to tell me?”

  “Yes.” I started walking down the beach. All around us, volunteers were feverishly trying to get things set up for the next day. I thought about Chuck Sparks and Jerry Richards trying to get ready for the auction tomorrow. Was what I found at Mary Lou’s house enough to prevent the auction from happening?

  “All right.” He stayed beside me as I walked, the wild Atlantic breeze tousling his hair. “This must be really bad.”

  I didn’t respond, trying to weigh what might happen if I told him about the dress and wig. He could demand that I tell the chief, as Tim wanted me to do. He could decide to confront Mary Lou. I didn’t like that scenario any better.

  “Am I on the suspect list?”

  I stopped walking. No one was close to where we were standing, and I thought the noise from the ocean and the gulls would mask anything I said. “I found something at Mary Lou’s house that might implicate her in Miss Elizabeth’s murder. But I don’t want to tell the chief because we didn’t have a search warrant and Tim says it’s crazy anyway. And I don’t want to confront Mary Lou and embarrass everyone. Gramps would never forgive me.”

  He moved closer. “What did you find?”

  I told him about the dress and wig. “I know it’s important. You’d think after all these years Tim would trust me enough to believe I find things. Everyone knows I find things. I didn’t want to find this. But I did, and I don’t know what to do.”

  We sat down on a large gray rock that was underwater during high tide. There were still a few starfish clinging to the bottom where the rock was wet. Tiny crabs scuttled away when we sat down. The sun had warmed the stone, and the cool water reaching the shore felt good on my toes as I dipped them, and my sandals, into the surf.

  “What do you want to do with the information?” he asked.

  “I don’t know. I feel sure this is why Miss Mildred thought she saw her sister’s ghost. I know it doesn’t make any sense, but we know someone set her up.”

  “And you think Mary Lou was the one?”

  “I don’t want to think it.” I glanced at him, narrowing my eyes as I faced the sun. “What do you think?”

  He considered it. “I think unless she confesses, it would be hard to make a case out of this. Was there any animosity between Mary Lou and Miss Elizabeth?”

  “Not as far as I know. Mary Lou helped out at her house a lot. They seemed to be friends. I can’t imagine her hurting Miss Elizabeth. But there’s something else too.” I nodded to one of the workers a few yards away. “Those blue gloves over there are like the kind that were in Miss Elizabeth’s purse. And those little stainless steel shovels they all use could be the same kind that killed her.”

  “Of course, those shovels and gloves are sold everywhere on the island,” he reminded me. “That wouldn’t be enough to reopen the investigation.”

  “What would be?”

  “New DNA evidence. Or a confession.”

  “I don’t know how to get new DNA evidence.” I thought about what I was saying with my head and not my heart. If Mary Lou was guilty of killing Miss Elizabeth, even if it was an accident, she needed to explain herself and rescue Miss Mildred. “But I might know how to get a confession.”

  “What do you have in mind?”

  It was well past midnight, not a time I’m used to being out and about. Traffic on Duck Road had slowed to only a few cars. There was the faint sound of music coming from some of the bars and restaurants. A few crickets chirped, and the breezes rushed through the bushes around me. I looked at the dark shadow of Mary Lou’s house and felt a terrible chill.

  What if I was wrong? What if Mary Lou had nothing to do with what happened to Miss Elizabeth and I was only too eager to pin it on anyone to save Miss Mildred? What if I ended up convincing Mary Lou that she’d done something wrong when she hadn’t?

  “What are you doing out there, Mayor?”

  The voice was coming from the earpiece I was wearing. It was Agent Walker, who was waiting in a surveillance van not even half a block away. Kevin had convinced me (though I’m not sure how) that we needed help. He’d told Agent Walker my plan to get a confession from Mary Lou, and surprisingly, he’d agreed.

  “You have to go into the house,” he said. “I don’t think you can scare a confession out of her from the backyard.”

  I didn’t want to respond to his prodding. I had a bad case of cold feet. Making Mary Lou believe I was Miss Elizabeth’s ghost had seemed like a good idea when I suggested it on the beach yesterday. But that was before I actually had to do it. “Maybe we should wait,” I whispered.

  “The auction is only a few hours away,” he reminded me. “This was your idea. Are you saying now you don’t think Mary Lou had anything to do with what happened to Mrs. Simpson?”

  I had been amazed that Kevin and Agent Walker thought scaring Mary Lou into a confession was a good idea. I was still amazed that they even considered she could be involved. Agent Walker had confessed, when Kevin and I told him a few hours ago, that he’d felt through the whole investigation that something wasn’t right.

  Of course, I felt completely guilty that I hadn’t told the chief and asked for his help. Tim’s reaction had surprised me yesterday. I was afraid the chief would feel the same way, and the truth, whatever it was, would never come out. More than a small part of me wished I had told the chief and he’d talked me out of the whole thing.

  I wasn’t too pleased to be standing in Mary Lou’s backyard in the middle of the night. I was wearing the black dress with the little pink hearts—sort of. I’d had to cut out the back to fit into it (who knew Mary Lou was so much smaller than me?) and then pin it on over my bathing suit to keep it from falling off. I’d put on some white makeup from last Halloween and arranged the gray wig on my head so she couldn’t see my hair.

  I’d felt the first twi
nge of doubt when I looked at myself in the mirror at my house. Would this getup scare Mary Lou to death? Would she admit to killing someone because she was terrified? The whole thing had suddenly seemed like a bad idea.

  I would’ve backed out. Really, I didn’t have the backbone that Agent Walker assured me I had. I didn’t want to hurt anyone. And I didn’t like to think how Gramps was going to feel when he found out I’d done this. Whether Mary Lou was guilty or not, I knew he’d find out.

  “Are you ready to move in? We can’t sit here all night. We only have this van for a few hours,” Agent Walker’s voice prodded from my ear.

  “I’m going. I can’t talk anymore.”

  It was really Kevin who’d convinced me (again) to go through with it. When he pinned the small microphone and receiver on my dress, he looked into my eyes and told me, emphatically, “You can do this, Dae. You might be the only one who can.”

  That, and that funny fluttery feeling I got around him, sent me out the van door and into the warm, humid night. But that was as far as it had gotten me. Now, I was standing under the bushes, watching Mary Lou’s house, wondering again whether I was doing the right thing.

  Then I thought about Miss Mildred and Miss Elizabeth and Wild Johnny Simpson. All of their lives had been built on mistakes and misunderstandings. I had to make sure this wasn’t one of them. I couldn’t allow myself to be scared. I had to find out the truth.

  I walked up to the old house, jumping a little when an owl hooted and flew down close at me to take a look. “I’m too big to be a mouse,” I whispered.

  “What was that?” Agent Walker asked from the van.

  “Nothing. Just talking to the owl.”

  He didn’t remark on that. I moved steadily across the sandy ground, carefully skirting the rose bushes and gravel that might give me away. I half hoped the back door might be locked. There wouldn’t be anything to do about that but go home. Too bad. Nice try.

  But the back door was unlocked, even slightly open. I crept across the dark porch, trying not to step on buckets and shovels left there from the turtle rescue project.