by Joyce
“Are you Dae O’Donnell?”
I recovered as quickly as I could. It was a little disconcerting to see her. I realized the press conference must have been prerecorded, of course. It was just an odd sensation.
“Yes. You’re Pam Walsh, Joe’s sister. Would you like to come in?”
She came in and I took her coat. We sat down at the kitchen table after I’d put on some coffee. We were completely out of anything resembling pastries, but I offered her a marshmallow treat.
She declined and came right to the point. “I want to thank you for finding my brother. I never guessed what happened to him. All those years, while Mad Dog Wilson was living his life, raising his family, Joe was buried right here.”
“I know. I’m so sorry. I don’t have any siblings, but I can imagine how hard and frustrating the whole thing has been for you.”
Her eyes welled with tears. She wasn’t a pretty crier. Her face was blotchy and her nose was red. She had Joe’s abundance of black curly hair, although hers was streaked with gray.
“I fought as hard as I could to get the sheriff’s office interested in finding him. I’ve gone through three disinterested sheriffs, including your grandfather. They all acted like Joe was wild and crazy, like he’d simply taken off for parts unknown.”
She smiled a little as she sniffed into a tissue. “Don’t get me wrong. Joe was wild and crazy, but he loved his family. When he disappeared, my mother and father were still alive. They sold everything they had and hired private investigators to look for him. No one ever had a clue what happened.”
I poured us both a cup of coffee and put out cream and sugar. Pam stirred hers for a long time, staring down into the creamy circles in the dark brew.
“When did you first think it was Mad Dog who killed your brother?”
“When didn’t I think it? They had that stupid game they played with each other. I was surprised both of them weren’t killed on the track. I know a lot of it was Joe wanting to show off. There was no way to stop him. After that last night when Mad Dog was injured, Joe never came home. I knew right then that Mad Dog killed my brother because he ended his driving career.”
“Was there ever any real evidence?” I tried to put it as delicately as I could. If she got angry at me, I wouldn’t get answers from the source and it would take longer to work around her. Besides, the woman had been through years of torture looking for her loved one.
“The sheriffs didn’t seem to think so. They questioned a few people—even Mad Dog—but there were no answers. Joe was just gone.”
“What happened to his car? I’ve seen pictures of it. It was very distinctive. It seems to me that people would have noticed it.”
She shrugged. “Gone with him. My parents and I followed that lead for a long time. I remember sitting in our old station wagon while my father went from house to house, store to store, looking for Joe’s car. He talked to every mechanic on the Outer Banks, even crossed the bridge and asked around on the mainland.”
I sipped my coffee and considered her words. “I’ll bet you were surprised that we dug up Mad Dog’s car instead of Joe’s.”
“You better believe it. The first report I heard about it, I thought they got it wrong. If Joe was found dead in a race car, why was it Mad Dog’s? It doesn’t make any sense.”
“So where is Joe’s car?”
“Exactly. I know from years of looking for him that it’s not in a scrapyard or in the back of some mechanic’s car lot. If Joe died here, he didn’t take it to the mainland either. I think that means it’s still here somewhere. Maybe someone found it and kept it as a souvenir.”
“That’s a really big souvenir.”
“You don’t realize how popular racing was back then. Hundreds of people from all over the state would show up every Friday night. I barely remember it because I was a kid. I wanted to be a stock car racer. I wanted people to love me like they did Joe. I have a whole room at home full of his memorabilia. After that night when Mad Dog quit and Joe disappeared, it was over.”
“I’ve heard that women really liked them too.”
“Oh yeah. Half of the pictures I have of Joe include his track bunnies, as he called them. They were all ages too. Grandmas, little kids, wives. No one was immune. They showed up all hours of the day and night at the house. It drove Mom and Daddy crazy. They finally set rules.” She laughed. “No girls before eight in the morning or after ten at night. Mom said they had to be dressed decent too.”
I laughed with her about that. I could only imagine what that had been like.
“He was married when he died, right? Who did he settle on?”
“Joe? Joe never married anyone. He always played the field. He was only eighteen when he went missing. He never even had a steady girlfriend. I guess there were too many to choose from.”
Maybe I had my information wrong. Surely Pam would know if Joe had been married. He’d still lived at home when he died. Unless he hid it from his parents, it would’ve been common knowledge.
“I wish there was something more I could do to help. I’m glad we found your brother. I wish your parents had been alive to see it.”
“So do I.” She started crying again. “They were so convinced they’d find him. You know, they thought maybe he’d run off with a girl. They were strict on him for the kind of life he led on the track. They always blamed themselves for him leaving.”
I gave her a few more tissues and we talked awhile longer before she went home. Before she left, she invited me to come and look at her brother’s souvenir room. I told her I’d like that.
All the time I was thinking about Joe’s car. Where could it possibly be? Was there some significance to putting him in Mad Dog’s car? Like his rumored wife, either of those mysteries could lead to his killer.
Chapter 19
Gramps woke me the next morning with a list of the ten deputies whose badge numbers fit the sequence. Unfortunately, all of them, including Gramps, had at least one replacement badge for one they had lost or destroyed.
“I remember this now.” He chuckled, sitting on the side of my bed in his fishing gear. “Your grandmother, bless her soul, accidentally sent it to the dry cleaner’s in the pocket of my uniform. The dry cleaner’s were sorry that the badge was ruined by the process. They reimbursed me for the damages—you had to buy the second badge. I’d totally forgotten about it. It was a long time ago.”
Treasure was snuggled up next to me on the bed. I was glad Gramps and I had reached an understanding about him not being guilty before he remembered that his badge was partially destroyed. It could’ve sounded like an excuse.
I was past that. I took the list from him and looked at it. “I didn’t know Barney Thompson was a deputy. So was August Grandin.”
“Well, you have to remember that the population was even smaller forty years ago. We had to recruit whoever we could find to be a deputy. August and Barney found out it wasn’t for them.”
I yawned at the same time Treasure yawned and stretched. “Good thing. It looks like Barney was only a deputy for six months but he lost three badges.”
“They’re only stuck on, you know. There were a few times a drunk would snatch off a deputy’s badge. This one time, I was trying to break up a fight and a man ripped my whole shirt apart by grabbing my badge.”
I realized as we were talking that there were three deputies from Duck on the list, all important figures in the community today. Barney and August, and of course, Chief Michaels.
In the back of my mind, I knew he’d have to be in the group. He and Gramps came up together as deputies. He and Tuck Riley ran for sheriff when Gramps retired. Tuck won the election. Chief Michaels took over our brand-new Duck police force.
“What about these other men on the list?” The only other name I recognized was Walt Peabody, the police chief in Corolla. He and I had never gotten along since
he’d given me my first speeding ticket. There was also some kind of old rivalry between him and Gramps.
Gramps took the list back from me. “I told you I think Blackie Rogers is dead. We’ll have to check to make sure. Not that being dead means he’s innocent of the crime. There’s no statute of limitations on murder, you know.”
I laughed. I knew it was a serious subject, especially to him. I’d heard him say that phrase so many times in my life that it had become humorous to me.
“Sorry,” I apologized. “Go on.”
“You know men have been convicted of murder and other crimes after they were dead.”
“I know, Gramps. Really. It’s just that I’ve heard you say that so often that it’s kind of like ‘pass the sugar’ in a normal family.” I tried to make him understand.
His blue eyes got stern and he raised one outraged brow. “Are you saying our family wasn’t normal?”
“Kids at school never seemed to think so. That’s why I hated it when you took me to school. It reminded everyone again that you were the sheriff.”
He cleared his throat and moved on. “Then there was Marvin Taylor. He moved away when he met that woman from Boston, I think. Somewhere up north. She was down here on vacation. She had the skimpiest bathing suit any of us had ever seen and a hot little Mustang. I would’ve gone with her—if I wasn’t already married to your grandmother, of course.”
“What about Russ Vidler? I’ve never heard of him.”
“You’ve met him. He was the Hatteras lightkeeper for many years. We went to his birthday party at the retirement home a few weeks ago.”
I remembered the short, rather portly, older man who had a constant squint and wore an 1800s sea captain’s uniform when schoolkids went to visit the old lighthouse.
“And Brandon Hall.” Gramps laughed again. “I haven’t thought of old Brandy in ages. He lost his badge permanently because he couldn’t stop drinking. I think he still owns a little bar in Nags Head. I’m not sure about that, but it would be easy to look up.”
“Only one more I don’t recognize—Wally Newcastle. Who’s he?”
“I think he and his family still run that place that rents canoes and sailboats in Kitty Hawk. He bought the place when he retired, and his son and daughter went in on it with him later. He’s pretty successful down there.”
“Okay. All we have to do now is figure out if one of them had a grudge against Joe because he was dating their sister, wife, niece or mother.”
He patted my leg, still under the blanket, as he got up. “I’ll make some pancakes and we’ll come up with a suspect board, just like in the old days. It’ll be fun.”
I groaned. “That’s what Kevin always wants to do. He even did it for a missing barrel of whiskey. What is it you lawmen like about that?”
“It organizes the thoughts so you aren’t running around in a circle like a chicken with its head cut off.”
“Eww. And now I’m supposed to eat?”
“Don’t make me tell you about my mother keeping chickens when I was growing up and how they ended up in the pot.”
I showered and dressed, making sure I wore my good jeans and a nice blue sweater. It was shaping up to be a long day. I wanted to be comfortable and warm through it.
Treasure watched me walk back and forth as I got dressed. He played with the pillows and sheets as I made the bed. He finally perched silently on the edge of the bed, like an Egyptian statue. His green eyes were fixed on me.
For a breathless instant, it was as though he and I became one. I felt merged with him as I looked into his eyes. I couldn’t see anything different, but I felt him—every perfect muscle poised for action. It was incredible. I reached out a hand to touch his silky fur.
He jumped off the bed and ran down the stairs to see what scraps he could get from Gramps while he made breakfast. I guess the moment wasn’t as incredible for him as it was for me.
I glanced at my wayward hair in the mirror one last time. Maggie’s face and form appeared instead of mine.
“Are we going to have some fun today for a change?”
It was weird watching both of our mouths moving. No wonder Kevin had been scared away when Maggie started talking.
“If it sounds like fun looking for the person who killed Joe.”
Her lips turned down. “Ye can always look for this killer. I’ve only a few days at best to go out, dance, drink and have a handsome lad hold me in his arms. Can’t it wait?”
“No. Not really. I’ll give the historical society a call today and see if they’ve had any luck locating Thomas’s grave.”
“I guess that’s all the fun I’ll be having in this sorry life.”
“I’m sorry. I have to get this done before the election.”
I was happy and surprised to see that Kevin was there for breakfast—until I saw the pad of large sticky notes and several colored markers.
He kissed me and smiled. Maggie grabbed him like her arms were octopus tentacles. She was all over him, not letting him go for an instant, with me along for the ride.
“That’s enough.” I finally managed to get her off of him.
“Good morning to both of you.” Kevin had a humorous touch to his voice. “Horace called and was telling me how much you needed to create a suspect board to continue your investigation. I couldn’t bring my whiteboard since it was being used in the kitchen. These should be fine. We can make a sticky note for each person.”
I shook my head. “I can’t believe it. There must be something else that brought you over here this early.”
“I wanted to see you, of course. And Horace said there were pancakes. How could I resist?”
Gramps winked before he turned back to flip another pancake. “I knew we needed help with so many suspects. Who better than the FBI? Or at least, the former FBI.”
Kevin was busy tearing off the large yellow sheets and putting one on each cabinet door, two on the refrigerator and one on the front of the stove. I added a name to each sheet from the list. By the time the pancakes were done cooking, we were ready to get started.
“Okay, let’s start with Rogers, since Horace thinks he’s deceased,” Kevin said. “It shouldn’t be hard to get that information from the courthouse.”
“I’ll do that.” I volunteered, since I had to go to Manteo to see Mad Dog again. “I can check for a marriage license in Joe’s name at the same time.”
Kevin put my name on that sheet of paper. “Since your strength is in finding things, that’s a perfect job for you.”
“I’ll talk to Ronnie, although it seems a little pointless.” Gramps grinned. “Ronnie’s no more a killer than I am. I don’t think he’d tolerate either of you asking him questions about his past.”
“He does have a sister who was crazy for race car drivers,” I pointed out, though I agreed with him about Chief Michaels. “La Donna confessed her weakness to me.”
“Probably most of the women of a certain age around here would have to admit to that,” Gramps said. “What about you, Kevin? How are we going to put that FBI training to work?”
“I’ll look up Marvin Taylor, since he isn’t local as far as you know. I have a friend in the Boston area who could help me with that.”
“Gramps, you’re going to have to talk to Chief Peabody in Corolla. He really doesn’t like me.”
“He likes you a lot more than he likes me, honey. Believe me. Take Kevin with you. He’ll respect his FBI background, if nothing else.”
I grumbled, but Kevin said he didn’t mind, so our names went on the yellow sheet with Chief Peabody.
We divided up the rest of the names as we did the pancakes. As we ate, I told them about the surprise visit from Pam Walsh last night.
“The way she talked, Joe’s parents were strict with him, so his marriage might have been a secret,” I explained. “Joe lived at home
, but Pam said she didn’t know anything about a wedding.”
Kevin sipped his coffee between bites of pancake. “Or she was lying. You always have to take that into consideration.”
“Why would she lie about that?”
“You never know,” Gramps agreed with Kevin. “I’ve had people lie about the dumbest things, things that didn’t even make any difference.”
I didn’t necessarily agree with that. I felt like Pam was being truthful about not knowing if her brother was married. I suppose I trusted people more than Gramps or Kevin did, but I was good at reading people too. I thought if Pam had been lying, I’d know.
“Joe’s car is perplexing to me.” Gramps changed the subject. “It was a highly visible vehicle. Most people around here would’ve recognized it if they saw it. It couldn’t just vanish. It makes me wonder if a fan might have found it and kept it all these years. I’m going to run that by Ronnie when I see him.”
Kevin brought up another point. “The car could also have been purposely stolen by the killer because there’s evidence in or on it.”
“That’s true.” Gramps nodded as he finished his pancakes.
As we all finished eating, we sat looking at the list of names on the giant sticky notes all over the kitchen. I wondered how we’d make a meal in here again until they were gone.
“Gramps, what are you going to say to Chief Michaels about the badge I found? For that matter, what am I going to say to the people on my list? I can’t walk around accusing people of killing Joe and demanding their alibis.”
“You have to be subtle.” He warmed to his subject, leaning his forearms on the table. “Interrogation is more an art than a confrontation. Kevin will know what to say when you go out to Corolla. Follow his lead. You can ask—Did they know Joe? Did they have any contact with him? Do they recall seeing his car after that last race?”
“Did any of them have a female member of their family? Would they rather have killed Joe than let her be with him?”
Gramps and Kevin exchanged glances.
