A Spirited Gift
Page 21
“I don’t believe old Bunk came back to kill this Wright fella and his girlfriend,” Sheriff Riley stated like he was saying it for the record. “I’d say old Bunk has bigger fish to fry.”
“But if not him, who?” Gramps demanded. “And how many times are we gonna ask this question about who killed Johnny Simpson?”
Wild Johnny Simpson was a mythical kind of figure in Duck—like Blackbeard or Rafe Masterson. He didn’t start out that way. He seemed to lead a normal kind of life, building a house and marrying Miss Elizabeth Butler.
Then something happened and he vanished, almost never to be seen again. If Kevin hadn’t reopened the Blue Whale, what happened to Johnny might still be a mystery.
Kevin had been showing some of us around when we found Johnny’s long-dead body in one of the top-floor rooms. He’d been shot and left to die—the Blue Whale closed up around him as old Bunk Whitley mysteriously vanished the same night. No one had ever known for sure what happened to either man.
Then I ran into Bunk Whitley on one of the supposed-to-be uninhabited coastal islands. Before he made another mysterious exit, he’d told me he’d left Johnny Simpson in charge of the Blue Whale and would never have hurt him. That left Johnny’s death still a mystery to some—while others, mostly the police, still accepted Bunk as Johnny’s killer.
What Bunk had said made sense to me. He was also the one who told me my father was still alive after years of Gramps, and even my mother, lying to me. I guess I felt like I could trust Bunk to tell the truth about Johnny, since he’d been honest with me about my dad.
Now the gun that had killed Johnny was involved in two more deaths—deaths that had no connection to Johnny or Bunk Whitley.
“We’ll keep bringing it up until we have an answer!” Sheriff Riley banged his fist on the table. “You couldn’t solve this case when you were sheriff, Horace. Now, when this comes out, it’s gonna make us all look like monkeys. We have to figure it out before that happens. Any suggestions?”
I finished the coffee and saw a look pass between Chief Michaels and Gramps. I knew that look. They were thinking about having me hold the gun and see what I could find from it.
It would be an easy answer—if what I saw made sense—and if they could convince Sheriff Riley to go along with the experiment. It wouldn’t be an answer they could take to court, but it might be something that could put them on the right track.
Am I willing to hold something knowing it was used to kill three people? I considered the difficult question even before they asked me. I wanted to help. But the emotional strain would be terrible. Just handling Mary’s perfume bottle had been enough to make me feel the agony she went through for Rafe.
What would it be like handling a weapon that had committed murder? How would I deal with that emotional pain when it was over? It was a terrifying thought.
And I never knew exactly whose emotion I’d be feeling. In this case, it could be the killer’s—or the victim’s.
“Excuse me, gentlemen.” I smiled at all of them and acted as though I didn’t know what the discussion would be about after I’d left the room. I just didn’t want to hear them discuss it—“Dae won’t mind, will you, honey? She’d be glad to help.” Or, “That’s the craziest thing I’ve ever heard, Horace. We need real facts.”
And I didn’t want to feel pushed into making a decision right away, which I might be if I stayed in the kitchen.
“I’m turning in for the night,” I told them with a calm demeanor I was far from feeling. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Gramps.”
Chapter 39
I wished I hadn’t argued with Kevin. He was the one person I could turn to—the one person whose advice I trusted about these things.
But I couldn’t call him and tell him I wasn’t angry anymore—Oh and by the way I have a problem I need to discuss.
I went up to the widow’s walk and sat there looking out at the perfect night sky. When I was young, I would’ve gone to Gramps and we could’ve talked about this. But not anymore.
Not that my innocent gift of helping people find things ever had such serious consequences when I was young. I used to help Miss Elizabeth Simpson find her car keys, which she managed to misplace every week. Or I helped Cailey Fargo find her missing earrings. People in Duck loved my gift and enjoyed using it as much as I did. It was one of the perks of living here, I thought.
But now life was more complicated. The adult me understood that though Gramps loved me, he’d expect me to use my gift for the betterment of the community—even if there were personal costs. People sacrificed for the greater good sometimes—like his suggestion that I should give up my relationship with Kevin to be mayor again.
I understood his point of view, although I didn’t necessarily agree with it. Every police officer was willing to sacrifice for the greater good. Many times those sacrifices included their families, marriages, even their lives. Why would Gramps even hesitate to volunteer my services, when it might only make me uncomfortable?
I knew I couldn’t talk to Shayla or Trudy about this either. Shayla would balance my chakras and tell me to make my own choices. And though Trudy had been my friend since childhood, she’d never been comfortable with my gift. I couldn’t ask her to help me with this.
“Feels like standing on the bow of my ship,” Rafe said, appearing on the cast-iron rails that surrounded the widow’s walk on the roof. “Aye, you could look out and see forever. That was true freedom—true happiness.”
“That you lost when the British destroyed your ship.” I was glad to be diverted from worrying about Gramps asking me in the morning to hold the gun.
“Damn fools!” he yelled, causing some bats to change course. “They thought they’d killed me. They thought they could find my treasure. But I was too smart for them.”
“So the story I dreamed about you was true. You buried your treasure, killed your sailors and sent that poor cabin boy to swim away from the island. No wonder they called you a scourge.”
“That was me,” he admitted. “But allow that a man may change. Death and destruction—even plunder—gets old as the bones ache in the night and the body wears. I made my peace with what I’d done. God blessed me with a woman who loved me, despite my sins, and two fine sons. I was happy for a time—at least until the magistrate hanged me.”
“Rafe—I’m so sorry about Mary and your sons.” I hoped he wasn’t going to break down again as he had during the day. I didn’t think I could hold it together if he did.
He frowned and took out his cutlass, making some stabs at the night sky. “ ’Twas what I deserved, no doubt. But she deserved better.”
We didn’t speak for a few long minutes as he walked along the edge of the metal rail around me. Then he said, “You know, you remind me of her.”
“Me?”
“Aye. Pluck to the backbone. She never took nothing off of me. Told me what she thought, she did. But with a loving heart and a beautiful smile.”
“Thank you.” I thought again about the beautiful, sad woman in the mirror who’d tolerated the magistrate’s hand at her breast for the sake of her husband and sons. I didn’t mind the comparison.
“Don’t let them make you do anything ye don’t want to do,” he spat out. “They need you, my girl. You don’t need them. Make them pay—or tell them to go away.”
I was amazed at his understanding of the situation without one word of explanation. “How do you know?”
“Bah! I’m not an imbecile. I know what you can do. I saw the greedy looks on their faces. It doesn’t matter if you’re a pirate or a king. Those looks are on everyone’s faces who want their way. They need yer aid in this investigation. They don’t care about what happens as long as they win the plunder. It’s all the same—my time and yours.”
He had summed it up remarkably well. I wasn’t sure I could be as fast to turn down what would surely be presented as my duty, but I was glad he comprehended. The two of us up on this lonely rooftop had found a way of understanding each other des
pite the centuries (and so many other things) between us.
“I appreciate that. I know you’re right. I don’t know if I can just say no. I want Sandi Foxx’s killer to be found. That might not happen without me.”
“The hell with that,” he roared. “That girl is dead. Finding her killer won’t bring her back. You think on that, girl. Think about what ye will give up to do this thing. You can only lose so many pieces of yourself before there’s nothing left.”
And with those pirate words of wisdom, I was alone again.
He was right about losing myself. It was what I feared most from this part of my gift that took me into other people’s emotions. I could handle most of the day-to-day things—towels manufactured at a sweat shop in China, cars that had been used for smuggling. But things like the perfume bottle, and probably the gun that had killed Sandi, were more difficult. The effects from objects like those were hard to recover from. The strong emotional undercurrents sometimes dragged me down like the cold Atlantic and didn’t want to let go.
I smiled thinking that Rafe was probably a good source of wisdom when it came to losing pieces of yourself. Wasn’t that what happened to him? Mary and his children had redeemed him, given him a lineage and legacy that he wouldn’t have had if he’d died on his ship at the hands of the British.
But I wasn’t a pirate, and I’d been brought up with a strong sense of right and wrong, duty and honor. I didn’t know if I could look the other way when the time came.
I went back down the secret stairs that led from the widow’s walk to my bedroom. Even though I was used to Rafe popping in and out now, I took a step back and gasped as a figure separated itself from the shadows in my room. “Kevin?”
He put his arms around me and we kissed in the darkness. “I missed you. I don’t ever want to argue with you again.”
I felt the same, but I wasn’t necessarily ready to let it go. “Is that something like an apology?”
“It’s whatever you want it to be. Do you feel like walking?”
Gramps was already in bed—probably having ended the discussion with the sheriff and the chief by volunteering my help with the gun. Kevin and I slipped out the front door without disturbing him and started down the dark, wet street.
“I know you were supposed to call me,” he began. “But I waited all day and you didn’t call.”
“I was busy with the Weather Channel thing and everything else.” I told him about what happened at the museum with the perfume bottle. “But I’m sorry I didn’t call. You were right. I should’ve admitted that my father stole from me. I just believe that anyone could be desperate enough to do it.”
He wrapped his arm around me as we walked down deserted Duck Road toward the center of town. “Maybe I was right—but so were you. That’s one of the reasons I gave up being in the FBI. It does make you see the worst in people. I came to Duck to see the best in people. But old habits die hard. I trust your father because you trust him. Let’s leave it at that unless something else happens. See? I’m learning to have faith.”
I hugged him hard. “I’m glad.” I admitted to being tired of lying and sneaking around where my father was concerned. “I’m going to talk to Gramps again too. I’m a grown woman. We have to work this out as adults. I’m going to see my father, and I’m going to tell him who I am. I’m sure we’ll all feel better when it’s over.”
“Good for you!”
The winds from the ocean and the Currituck Sound were screaming across the open spaces where there were no bushes or buildings to slow them down. We ran through those areas and ended up at the Curbside Bar and Grill. I was surprised to find it open so late.
But Cole and Molly Black, owners of the grill, were feeding whoever came in for free. The place was packed, of course, but Kevin and I managed to find a corner to drink some coffee and warm up.
“This whole thing with Rafe has turned into a bigger deal than I’d thought it would be,” I explained. “That perfume bottle really knocked me over this morning. I’m still amazed at how real those emotions can be.”
He took my hand, his face unusually serious. “I admit to having another reason for finding you besides apologizing,” he said. “I heard about the pistol this afternoon—and a crazy idea to have you get whatever information you could from holding the gun.”
I shrugged. “They haven’t asked yet. But I got that drift too.”
“Dae, don’t do it. The perfume bottle was nothing compared to the emotions of a killer pumped up with rage and jealousy. Not to mention the terror of a person being killed. Please promise me you won’t agree to this.”
“It sounds even worse when you put it like that,” I joked, but he didn’t return my smile.
I knew Kevin was overly cautious about these things. He was probably afraid of losing me like he had his FBI partner.
Not that the idea of losing myself completely wasn’t scary. Holding the perfume bottle almost made me forget who I was and where I belonged. I was so much a part of Mary that I wasn’t me anymore.
But I had to feel like I could control my gift—not the other way around. Otherwise I’d have to walk through life wearing gloves—literally. That just wasn’t me.
“You’ve already decided to help your grandfather, haven’t you?” Kevin asked, sitting back in his chair.
“No! I haven’t decided anything,” I replied. “I’d like to find out who killed Matthew and Sandi. This is my home town. I don’t want to think of it as the murder capitol of the Outer Banks. But I know there are risks. I feel them every day—every time I touch something with an emotional past.”
“You can’t let them bully you.”
“I won’t.”
“They need you—you can call the shots.”
I grinned. “You sound like Rafe. He was basically giving me the same advice while I was up on the widow’s walk. You know, I don’t think he’s as black as he’s painted. Well, not anymore anyway. He was definitely a scourge when he was younger.”
“Are you getting to be friends with him?”
“He’s more like some uncle who was in prison but you think he might have reformed, if that makes sense.”
“If talking to a ghost makes sense, anything is possible.” He smiled and kissed my hand. “Just be careful, Dae. Ask for help if you need it.”
“I will. Don’t worry.”
Before we could say anything else, Cole Black came to the table and asked us for help. “I never expected so many people, Mayor Dae! Think you could give us a hand? Molly has that bad lumbago. I’m worried she might wear herself out.”
Cole and his wife had retired here a few years back, claiming they were looking for some relaxation—but they worked harder than most people half their ages.
“Sure!” I agreed. “We’d be glad to help. What do you need?”
“See those tables over there by the windows? Could you bus all of them and do some dishes?”
Chapter 40
“Well, that was interesting,” Kevin said when we were done cleaning up the restaurant. “If I’d known we were going to work in a kitchen, I would’ve stayed home and cleaned mine.”
I laughed at him and gave him a towel to dry his hands. We’d done several loads of dishes, pots and pans and silverware by hand. “But so many people were fed tonight. Isn’t it wonderful to see everyone pulling together?”
“Marvelous.” He flicked water at me.
I snapped my towel at him. Cole and Molly found us horsing around in the kitchen as they got ready to close up.
“You two remind me of us when we were young,” Cole said with an affectionate smile at his wife.
“Or that nice young couple who stop in every so often, right?” Molly shook her head. “Not that they were married, we’ve come to find out. I’d hate to live with that kind of guilt. His wife is dead now, you know. That young lady mayor at the Blue Whale. What a shame!”
“Shawn Foxx?” I asked sharply. “He ate dinner here with someone besides his wife?”
“What did his girlfriend look like?” I asked.
“Kind of tall,” Cole said. “A real looker too.”
“Never mind him—he thinks everyone looks tall and every woman under thirty is a real looker,” Molly added. “But it seems to me they were about the same height.”
“Did you ever hear him call her by name?” Kevin questioned.
“Nope. Like I said—we didn’t even know his name until we saw that his wife had been killed. But they tipped well. I can tell you that,” Molly said. “And always paid with cash.”
“My favorite people!” Cole smiled.
“Was she blond? Have you ever seen her around in Duck?” I asked.
“No, she had long, dark hair,” Cole assured me. “This woman was late twenties, tops. Thin, like a model.”
“Now that you mention it, Mayor Dae,” Molly added, “I have seen her before. I think she might work at the skee-ball place. I’ve seen her smoking outside there. Or it was someone who looked just like her.”
“Thanks.” I hugged them both, not wanting them to feel we were interrogating them. “See you later. And thanks for sharing with so many people.”
“Please! We didn’t want all that defrosted food to go to waste,” Molly said. “And it’s a tax deduction. Don’t make us heroes.”
Kevin and I said good night and walked back out into the cold early-morning air. “So Shawn had a girlfriend.”
“It sounds like it.” I wrapped my jacket closer around me. “Someone who probably lives in Duck.”
“If you’re thinking she could be the killer, that would mean she had to be in or around the Blue Whale during the storm.”
“That’s true. Although Game World isn’t that far to walk from the inn. I guess that’s why Shawn had such a lame alibi about spending the night by himself in his car. He might have been here in Duck—with his girlfriend—at the time Sandi was killed. I can see why he wouldn’t want anyone to know about that.” I yawned after I told him about seeing Shawn at Game World. “But I don’t know if I’m thinking at all, to tell you the truth. I think my brain stopped working about an hour ago.”