by Joyce
Kevin surveyed the area, making sure we were alone. I could imagine him doing the same thing in his dark FBI suit and sunglasses. Only now, he was wearing jeans and a blue T-shirt. I never expected to meet a man like him, much less fall in love with him, but I was glad I did.
I took a deep breath and cleared my thoughts. The breeze from the sea made the shrubs shake around us and whistled through the empty old cars. I closed my eyes and touched the race car.
And there was dust flying around the track, making it difficult to see. He gripped the wheel tightly, forced to go faster because Joe was hot on his heels. His foot slammed down on the gas pedal. He could feel rocks and sand hitting the bottom of the car. He wished he could go faster. He wished he could beat Joe once and for all. Maybe then Joe wouldn’t come back again.
He’d been king of the track before Joe started showing up each time when the race was almost over. He’d drive the other racers out of the competition. Then the black car would show up. It wasn’t fair and it wasn’t right. But the people loved him. She loved him. If he could, he would—
He lost control of the car. It was flipping over and over again. The metal screamed and bunched around him. The windows burst out, spraying him with glass. He couldn’t hold it. The side panel next to him pushed in and ripped into his leg. Hot blood ran down into his boot. He lost consciousness.
I opened my eyes on the clear, sunny morning in the impound lot. Kevin was still standing beside me. The island breeze raced across again, flying from the Atlantic Ocean to the Currituck Sound.
It was hard to get my thoughts together and pry them away from the wreck that had happened forty years ago. It was as though I had been in Mad Dog’s body for those critical few moments. I could still feel the violent movements of the car and the pain from his injured leg—the leg he still favored today.
“Are you all right?”
“Yes. I think so. It’s hard to pull back.”
“We should go.”
“I know.” I took several deep breaths and tried to think about everything that was important and real in my life. Gramps. Kevin. Treasure. Missing Pieces. The smell of the water. The moon riding high in the clouds on a soft summer night.
“What was that?” Maggie’s voice was slurred. “What manner of contraption was that?”
“Dae.” Kevin called me back. “Snap out of it.”
I looked at him and nodded. “Okay. Let’s go.”
I heard the footstep behind us in the sand before I heard the man who’d joined us.
“Mayor O’Donnell. Mr. Brickman.” It was Officer Scott Randall. “I don’t know if you’d call this trespassing, but the town frowns on people visiting the impound lot without permission. Do you have permission?”
Scott was such a serious young man—respectful and careful of his job. Finding us there after the other night at the new town hall couldn’t have been pleasant for him. He was as humble as Tim was brash. We’d received dozens of letters from people he’d stopped for speeding, all telling us what a nice young man he was.
I liked him and I hated that he’d been the one involved in my crazy life the last few days. But this problem was much easier to solve than the one at the construction site.
“The museum sent us out to take some pictures of old number twelve for the collection. After all, this is history too.”
Of course the situation wasn’t as bad either. Technically, there was no fine or even an ordinance to cover unlawful visitation of the impound lot. I’d thought ahead about this explanation. I knew it would be something easy for him to understand.
I didn’t want to show him Tim’s key and get him in trouble. My explanation was going to have to be convincing.
“Of course, ma’am.” He looked down at my hands. “Did you lose your camera?”
He was almost too quick for me. I brought out my cell phone, with camera, and smiled. “You know, no one uses plain cameras anymore. We can download these pictures into the computer at the museum. All our new records are kept that way.”
Of course nothing could have been further from the truth. Most members of the historical society still did everything the old-fashioned way. They could barely use a computer.
Scott didn’t know that.
“That’s fine, ma’am. Just be careful out here. I wouldn’t want you to get hurt on all this rusted metal. Have a nice day.”
“Thanks, Scott.”
“You’re welcome, Mayor.” He turned to Kevin. “I’m sorry about you having to pay that fine, Mr. Brickman. I hope you know I was only doing what the town requires of me. Sorry about your excavating equipment too. The chief tried to get them to leave it here in our impound lot, but the sheriff had it taken to Manteo, to the county impound.”
I sighed. The ghost of my misdeeds haunted me too.
“Aye,” Maggie whispered. “I know the feeling.”
Scott walked us back to the pickup at the gate as Kevin reassured him that he understood about the excavator.
“I think I can get someone to bring that back from Manteo for a good price,” I said when we were in the pickup.
“Thanks. Don’t worry about it.” Kevin started the truck and backed out of the area. “What did you see from the car?”
I went back over it again in my mind before I answered. It was easy now that I’d distanced myself from it.
“I only saw Mad Dog’s last wreck in it. There was something repetitive from the vision I got from the badge.”
“What was that?”
“The deputy in my vision wanted Joe to leave some woman alone. Mad Dog was thinking about a woman he wanted who was in love with Joe. Seems like a coincidence, doesn’t it?”
“Are you going for some mystery woman killing Joe and stuffing his body into the race car?”
“I don’t know what I’m looking at. Joe was in love with some woman. The mystery deputy might have been in love with her too.”
He laughed. “That’s some theory.”
“It doesn’t help when the visions aren’t clear.”
“Nothing about the murder itself?”
“Not a thing. Although I understand why Mad Dog grimaces when he has to walk. His leg must’ve been a mess after the wreck.”
“It might be interesting to find out how the police are dealing with that fact. It seems to me that being injured in the wreck would be the perfect alibi. Not many people with a torn-up leg could kill a man and stuff him into a car.”
I glanced at the police building. “There’s an easy way to find out, since we’re right here. We can ask Chief Michaels. Sometimes he can be pretty chatty. Or he’ll throw us out.”
“I could help you,” Maggie volunteered. “There were seamen who would do much only to watch the swing of my hips as I set down their ale.”
“Let’s try doing this without seduction.” I hoped I wouldn’t be sorry I was going in with her. What if she asked Chief Michaels for a kiss?
Kevin swung the pickup into a parking place. We got out and went inside, but Chief Michaels wasn’t in one of his chatty moods. He was bent over his desk, his graying brown flattop making him look like an older drill sergeant. His black uniform was immaculate with perfect creases, and his patent leather shoes gleamed.
“Haven’t you two done enough damage to this case already?” He actually got up from his desk to yell at us. “There’s no telling how many facts were lost by you ruining the crime scene.”
I could tell Kevin was taken aback by the chief’s tone. Chief Michaels was never rude or angry with him like he was with me.
“We both know there wasn’t much of a crime scene left after forty years, Ronnie,” Kevin argued. “And what there was would be in worse shape now if that geothermal work would’ve gone through it instead of Dae finding it. Almost all of your evidence is going to be anecdotal after all this time.”
�
�Look, Brickman,” the chief snarled. “You and Dae are lucky you aren’t facing charges. Leave this alone. Go back to the inn and let the professionals do it. You aren’t in that league anymore.”
I thought that was a little harsh, even for the chief. He and Kevin always seemed to be friends, or at least friendly. The chief had asked for Kevin’s help on cases before because of his work with the FBI. I told Kevin as much in the truck.
Kevin said, “He’s frustrated by the whole thing. Ronnie’s caught between a rock and Sheriff Riley. Not a good place to be. I’m sure he’d also rather not try to build a murder case against one of his old friends.”
“Maybe I should have told him about the badge. I’d like to be a little more sure about Gramps first.”
“You should ask him. Just face him with it. Let him tell you what happened.”
“That’s what they always told us at church,” Maggie recounted. “Tell the truth. Shame the devil.”
I didn’t know if I could do that. Not that I didn’t think he’d tell me the truth—good or bad. Except for a few instances, he and I had a good relationship. Gramps would tell me the truth. I believed that.
I just wasn’t sure if I was ready for it.
Chapter 17
Kevin dropped me off at home on his way back to the Blue Whale. Gramps pulled up in his golf cart as Kevin was backing out of the drive. I watched as they talked for a few minutes before Gramps came inside with two cloth bags full of food and other necessities.
“Hello, stranger.” He grinned as he put down the bags. “Have I got news for you. You’re looking at a man in the pinochle tournament next week. I clobbered Mark Samson last night like he wasn’t even playing. He might as well have stayed home. I think I might be in line for that trophy this year.”
“That’s great. For you, anyway. I don’t know about Mark. We might not be able to eat there anymore.” Mark owned the Rib Shack, one of the few restaurants in town that stayed open during the winter.
“We’ll survive. Think how good that trophy will look on the mantel.”
I stroked Treasure then went to help Gramps put the groceries away. It was probably the best time I’d ever have to ask him about the deputy’s badge.
I couldn’t make myself take it out of my pocket.
I wasn’t sure where to find the words to ask what I needed to know. Despite my fears about him, I couldn’t imagine him hurting anyone.
And what woman would he have been threatening Joe over? It seemed to me that my mother could have been the right age to get in trouble with the racing crowd, but I’d never heard anyone mention it. Surely it wouldn’t have been my grandmother.
“I heard some news about the state’s case against Mad Dog today.” He handed me spinach to put in the fridge.
“What was that?”
“The ME doesn’t think Joe was dead when he was buried in the car. Of course with bones, it’s harder to tell. He’ll have to send the remains to Raleigh for a conclusive report. There was no skull trauma. No fractures or breaks. There was dried blood and sand caked under the fingernails. He thinks that’s a pretty good indication that Joe tried to get out of the car.”
“That’s awful.” I was glad I didn’t pick that up from the race car. I really didn’t want to know what that looked and felt like.
I recalled how Joe’s arm had been sticking out of the car window when we’d dug him up. Poor man.
“And some bad news for Mad Dog’s case. They said the old records show that he was brought to the hospital by an ambulance after his wreck at the track, but he left before he could be examined by a doctor or treated.”
“What does that mean?”
“Ronnie said it probably means that Mad Dog’s last hope of not being found guilty of this terrible crime is gone. His lawyer was hoping to prove he was too badly injured that night to be able to kill Joe and bury his body. It seems to me we may never know the truth. Ronnie is plenty agitated about that.”
I guessed that was why Chief Michaels was in such a bad mood at the station. He couldn’t find anything to keep his friend from going to prison. I knew he was supposed to be looking for things to prove Mad Dog was guilty. I had a feeling it didn’t always work that way with friends.
I knew the truth about Mad Dog’s injury after experiencing the wreck with him. That wouldn’t help him in court. It was frustrating that my visions wouldn’t mean anything to the case—they never did unless I could convince Chief Michaels to look into something I’d seen.
I was more and more convinced that Mad Dog was innocent, but where was the proof I needed?
“You’re very quiet.” Gramps sat down when we were finished with the groceries. “Something on your mind?”
How could I say it? How could I even ask?
I sat down at the same table I’d eaten at since I was able to sit up. Gramps sat opposite me. He was the man who’d helped me learn to feed myself, walk, and nursed me through colds and the knee I’d dislocated when I was surfing. He was always there for me.
I couldn’t say it. Maggie was the one who took out the badge, wrapped in one of Kevin’s clean white handkerchiefs, and put it on the table. “I found this, Grandfather. I had hopes you might explain.”
He picked it up, after looking at me as though I’d lost my mind, and examined it.
I cleared my throat and followed through. “At the construction site, close to where I found the car.”
“You should give it to Ronnie, honey. It might be something important to the case.”
I got up and took the little glass picture frame from off the wall. Inside was his old deputy’s badge. I put it on the table next to the badge I’d found and sat down again.
I stared into his blue eyes that could be stern or twinkling with laughter. I didn’t say anything.
“Now I see.” He looked at the partial number on the recovered badge. “You think I was there when Joe was killed?”
“No. Not exactly. Gramps—”
“Maybe we could do some kind of memory transfer. Maybe if I hold the badge in one hand and you take my other hand, you won’t need to ask.”
“I already held the badge.”
He put it back down on the table. “And what did you see?”
I described the scene for him, waiting for his reaction.
He got up from the table and paced around the room with his hands behind his back and his head down. “Dae, honey, I am so sorry.”
My heart felt cold like ice in the winter. What did he mean?
“Gramps? Are you saying—”
“I’m sorry I brought you to this place where you’d think I could be capable of something of this nature. I’m not responsible for Joe’s death. The fact that you’d think of it tells me what a mistake I made carrying on with your mother’s lie about your father. You don’t trust me anymore. I blame myself. I should’ve sat you down when she died and told you that your father was still alive.”
I actually hadn’t thought about it that way. It was true that my mother had lied to me about my father and Gramps had continued to lie until I found out my father was living in Duck again. I had been very angry at the time, but I’d put it behind me. To me, this was different and had nothing to do with the other matter.
“I know I made your mother’s life miserable because I believed your father wasn’t good enough for her. I know I was wrong to stand in judgment of him. I would never have killed him. I would never kill anyone, Dae.” He closed his eyes and buried his face in his hands.
I didn’t know if I should apologize or keep still. I let him keep talking.
“I have always tried to live my life in an honorable way so that my family and friends would be proud of me. So I would never have to see anyone look at me the way you just did.”
“I’m sorry, Gramps. You always taught me that everyone makes mistakes. That was why you said
people deserved trials when they’d done something bad.”
“That’s true.” He looked at me again. “And what have I always told you? What have I always tried to do, and told you to do, to keep faith with yourself?”
“Own up to my mistakes.” I repeated his words that I’d heard so many times growing up. “Apologize, acknowledge what you’ve done and take your punishment.”
“That’s right. It’s what I did when you told me you knew about your father. I knew I was wrong. I’m not a saint. But I’ve always owned up to my mistakes.”
It was a good answer. An answer that made my heart swell with love and pride. Gramps wouldn’t have buried someone alive, waiting for them to be found forty years later.
Who would?
We ate lunch together and talked the whole time. We walked down to Missing Pieces. Gramps said it wouldn’t be that hard to find out whose badge had been buried with the race car. There were only ten possibilities, including his number.
“I could get you a list of those people and you could look through them to see if anyone jumps out at you from what you know already. I could tell you about a few of them—Blackie Rogers is dead. Marvin Taylor moved away.”
“That would be a big help. Thanks.”
“At the same time, I can check on how many of those deputies lost a badge and had to order a new one.”
“Maybe one of those things, linked with the woman everyone wanted, will help me clear Mad Dog’s name.”
“Let me help with this, Dae.” We’d stopped to talk in the Duck Shoppes parking lot. “I know I’m retired, but I can be a valuable asset. We used to talk all the time. I know you share a lot with Kevin now, but don’t forget about me. You’re all I have in this world.”
I hugged him. “I’m sorry. I love you, Gramps. I’ll try harder to keep you in the loop.”
The boardwalk was busy when I opened the shop. Gramps had gone on to his meeting with a few other volunteer firemen. He’d been a volunteer for as long as I could remember. The group of close to one hundred was essential to getting the town back on its feet after every storm that swept over us. They fought fires too, and handled many emergencies that we couldn’t have paid personnel for.
