“I don’t know. I never saw his face.” There was nothing more to say. I glanced at Gramps. I knew the look on his face. He wanted to know why I hadn’t told him about my new ability, but he wouldn’t ask until we were alone.
“Is that all you have, Mayor?” Chief Michaels asked me.
“I’m afraid so. It got me to the Segway, but I guess you couldn’t find Sam from that.”
“I don’t know.” Brad finished eating and sat back from the table with a smile on his face. “I think that was pretty good considering neither of you could find even that much.”
“No one asked you,” Chief Peabody snarled. “Go back to Manteo.”
Brad laughed a little—apparently not taking him seriously. Chief Michaels stood and put his hat on. “If you see any other visions about this case, you give me a holler.”
“I will.”
“Maybe you could CC me on that,
Your Honor
,” Chief Peabody added sarcastically as he shuffled to his feet and picked up his hat. “That way we’d all be in the loop.”
Gramps saw them to the door. I put the coffee cups in the sink and threw away the rest of the donuts. I waited there for him, knowing he’d have plenty to say.
“When did all this happen?” he asked when he returned after locking up.
“Right after the explosion. I can’t explain it. Kevin says he’s heard of things like this happening from trauma. I don’t know much about it beyond that. I’m trying to get some control over it.”
He nodded. “Of course, I wish you would’ve trusted me with the information, but I’m glad you told someone. Kevin seems like he can handle things.”
“I planned to tell you. I wanted to understand it first. You’ve been through so much with me. I didn’t want to worry you.”
He came across the kitchen and hugged me. “You
always
worry me. And you always will. You feel the same about me. But that doesn’t mean we can’t tell each other things when they happen. Right?”
“Right.” I hugged him back. “Next time I almost get blown up and find I have a new ability, I’ll tell you right away.”
“Get to bed! I don’t know where you got that smart mouth from. You’ve always been sassy. I guess helping you get to be mayor made it even worse.”
“Being your granddaughter is what made it worse,” I teased. “Everyone always said you had a smart mouth while you were sheriff.”
He sobered and looked me in the eyes. “If you have any more visions about this case, come to me before you take them to Ronnie or Walt. Let’s talk about them first. Okay?”
I agreed without questioning why he’d be so serious about it, but I thought about it for a long time before I went to sleep.
T
he remnants of Tropical Storm Floyd moved in during the night. I heard the heavy rain and gusty winds settle in a little after midnight. The old house creaked and groaned around us, but we’d seen much worse. Even though I’d sat through hurricanes in this house, I’d never once worried about being safe. Maybe it was naïve, but the house had been here for several lifetimes and hundreds of storms. I trusted it to keep me and Gramps from harm.
I lay awake for a long time listening to the symphony nature made, wondering about all the mysteries in the world that seemed to have more questions than answers. I finally fell back asleep, but rain was still drowning the Outer Banks when I got up the next morning.
Gramps was up too—in his yellow rain pants, jacket and boots. He was making breakfast.
“You’re not going out in this weather, are you?” I asked as I sat down to sprinkle brown sugar on my oatmeal.
“The winds mostly died down during the night. You know the fishing will be good today. Besides, I’m chartered and—”
“You never miss a charter.” I added milk to my bowl. “I know. Be careful, huh?”
He kissed the top of my head and put on his matching yellow rain hat. “I will. I love you, Dae. Have a good one.”
I never thought Gramps could love anything the way he’d loved being sheriff. I’d been wrong. He loved taking that old boat out at least as much. Maybe more. It didn’t matter what the weather was like. He didn’t care. Short of a hurricane, he was going out—especially if there was money to be made.
I stirred my oatmeal and wondered where to go from here. I was stumped after talking to the chiefs last night. Sam was nowhere to be found, despite my vision. But where was the connection between Sam and the cannonball that blew up the museum?
I knew Chief Peabody and probably Chief Michaels believed Sam was guilty of killing Max—even though it might’ve been an accident. Both of them had sounded like they thought Sam had fired on the Duck museum out of spite, possibly not with the intention of killing Max.
I couldn’t adequately explain the fear I’d felt when I touched the Segway—maybe the last thing Sam had touched. Even if I could, I doubted they’d understand or appreciate it. To them, Sam was simply trying to escape, which in law enforcement terms meant he was guilty.
I knew I should go to the shop even if there weren’t many customers who’d come out in the bad weather. The people who call the Outer Banks home tend not to take after the town’s namesake (ducks). We are more like turtles, hiding in our shells until the sun comes out. If nothing else, I should check my merchandise, look for UPS packages and make sure there was no damage from the storm. Maybe while I worked, I’d get an idea as to what my next move should be to help find out who’d caused the explosion that killed Max, and why.
I put on my raincoat and boots—I think everyone who lives here has them—and headed toward the Duck Shoppes. Pieces of bushes, sand and trash covered Duck Road, but there was almost no traffic at all. I made a mental note to ask the council for extra cleanup money for public works. It looked like they could have some overtime coming.
Most retail shops were closed, windows boarded against the wind and rain. It seemed drastic to me, but many of the owners weren’t from Duck originally. Sometimes it took a while to learn how to tell the remnants of a storm from the real thing.
Still, that meant no coffee except what I could make at the shop. It was never as good as coffee with steamed milk and some kind of chocolate or hazelnut, but it would have to do.
Nancy was at town hall answering phone calls about the storm. She handed me my messages without missing a beat. There was nothing pressing—unfortunately—but there was a call from Agnes Caudle.
I realized with a strong twinge of guilt that I hadn’t gone to see her since Max died. A lot had happened to me, but that was no excuse. In comparison, she was going through so much more.
Nancy was still on the phone when I left, talking to someone about a downed power line. She waved and I did the same, pocketing Agnes’s note and heading for Missing Pieces. Once I got everything checked out there, I’d pick up a few things and go to see her. It was the least I could do as a longtime friend and the mayor.
I hoped other people hadn’t been as forgetful. I knew it was unlikely. People here stuck together when bad things happened. Her kitchen and dining room were probably littered with cakes and casseroles, while her answering machine would be filled with offers to take her places she needed to go. Of course, there were always flowers and cards.
The Currituck Sound was ragged looking as I followed the gray boardwalk past Curves and Curls, Trudy’s shop, and reached Missing Pieces. Nothing seemed to be damaged outside. There were also no UPS packages. I let myself in the shop and turned to close the door, almost shutting it in Kevin’s face.
“I thought I might find you here,” he said with a smile. “It looks like damage was minimal on this side of Duck. We’re a little more beaten up on the Atlantic side. I lost a couple windows when a lawn chair blew into them. On a positive note, the roof didn’t leak.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” I continued into the shop, not quite sure how I should react to him. I didn’t ask if he’d left the town meeting with Shayla, but it was hard not to.
“Your house made it through okay?”
“Yeah. It was fine. It’s been through a lot worse. Of course, I’m sure the Blue Whale has seen a lot worse too.”
“Is something wrong?”
“No. I told you the house is okay. I think the shop is okay too. The storm was only a lot of rain and wind. We’re lucky it blew itself out in the ocean before it got here.”
“I’m talking about you personally, Dae. Has something else happened?”
I thought about it. “The chief came by last night. Well, actually, both chiefs came by with the arson investigator. I was surprised to see them, but—”
“I’m not talking about that either.” He came up close to me. “I’m talking about
you.
Did you encounter another problem with your abilities? You seem remote this morning.”
I looked into his ocean-gray eyes. “You left with Shayla last night. Do you have something you want to tell me?”
He seemed a little bewildered. “I didn’t leave with Shayla. I didn’t even know she was there. I started to wait for you, but you were talking with Councilman Wilson and I didn’t want to interrupt.”
“Oh.” I guess that answered my question.
“You thought Shayla and I—?”
“Yeah. Kind of. But that would be okay if that’s how it worked out.”
He put his arms around me. “That’s a lukewarm attitude. You wouldn’t even put up a fight?”
I didn’t get to answer because he kissed me and I forgot what I was going to say. It didn’t matter anyway. I’d heard what I needed to hear.
“What’s your agenda for today?” he asked, his forehead against mine. “I already boarded up my windows, and the glass won’t be here to replace them until Monday.”
I explained about Agnes. “I can’t believe I haven’t gone to see her.”
“I’m sure I don’t understand all the ins and outs of this kind of thing. But I have a feeling being almost blown up yourself probably gets you off the hook. I’m sure trying to stay sane despite being able to see the minute details about everything you touch might qualify you for an exemption too.”
“Thanks. I still feel guilty, but I appreciate the sentiment. I’m going to make sure the shop is in one piece, then I have to go and buy some food to take to Agnes.”
“Count me in on the plan. I can learn from someone who knows Duck society from the inside out as well as proper Duck etiquette.”
“All right.” I had to smile. “I’ll show you the ropes.”
Missing Pieces was in good shape. The shop had managed to escape any problems—this time. I’d had my share of broken windows, leaky roofs and flooding. It was part of life on the Outer Banks.
Kevin looked around at all the pieces in my shop, picking things up and putting them down as he inspected them, just like any other shopper. I was watching him (pretending to work) when the bell on the door rang and Mrs. Euly Stanley came in.
The large green poncho and hood she wore made her look even smaller than her five-foot-nothing fragile frame. Her boots seemed to reach all the way up to her waist. She pushed back her hood, revealing a wealth of curly gray hair. “Dae! There you are! I was afraid I wasn’t going to find you today. You have to see what I found in my attic.”
Kevin joined us at the front of the store, and we went through the pleasantries of introduction and inquiring about each other’s state of well-being.
“What did you find, Mrs. Stanley?” I asked when it was over.
“Just look!” She withdrew a lovely antique gold bracelet from the pocket of her poncho. “It belonged to my great-great grandmother. There’s a matching necklace somewhere. I wanted to show it to my granddaughter, Chrissie. Can you help me find it?”
“Of course! Let’s sit down over here and take a look.” I glanced at Kevin and smiled. He seemed to understand and drew up a chair close to the sofa. Mrs. Stanley took off her wet poncho and sat beside me, waiting expectantly.
I took her hands in mine. They were cool and slightly damp. She closed her eyes and, I could imagine, thought about her ancestor’s missing necklace.
At first I couldn’t see anything—only a dark, confused muddle of colors and shapes. That was normal for most people. There were only a few who had some kind of clarity when I looked for something they’d lost.
A shape began to form out of the swirling colors. There was something there—dull gold chain leading to a—“It’s a locket!” I exclaimed. “A gold locket with a picture inside.”
“Yes! That’s it!” Mrs. Stanley said. “My great-great grandmother. That’s it, Dae! Where is it?”
“It’s in the pocket of a skirt—calf length, herringbone tweed. It’s hanging in a tall chest filled with other clothes and a lot of hats.”
The necklace formed clearly in my mind. I could see the portrait inside of it and the image broke my concentration. “Mrs. Stanley—your great-great grandmother was Theodosia Burr. This is the link Max looked for all of his life. He knew it was here and he was right.”
“What are you saying, Dae? My great-great grandmother’s name was Mary.”
“Max hypothesized that Theo took on a new persona when she found herself shipwrecked here. Or maybe she couldn’t remember who she was. We might never know. But I have a miniature portrait that looks just like this—maybe she was a few years older. The face is unmistakable.”
“Are you sure? No one in my family has ever mentioned anything about it. Was it possible they didn’t know?”
“Maybe there could be some mention of it in your family history. All of your relatives kept such good records. Remember when we found the mention of the first church built in Duck through your relative’s Bible?”
Her brows knit together above intelligent brown eyes. “I think there’s a diary. I’ll have to check with my mother. To think we could be related to Theodosia Burr Alston! It would be wonderful! Those ladies in the Duck Historical Society would be green! But I thought Theodosia died at sea—killed by pirates.”
“If you could find that diary and we could compare my picture to the one in the locket, we might know for sure.”