A Touch of Gold (34 page)

“Well?” I asked, impatient to be done with it.

“I don’t know. It looks like you said. Too bad we didn’t catch the driver last night.”

“That would’ve been interesting,” I agreed.

“So what kind of stuff did you all pick up from Agnes’s house?”

“Mementos, a few personal treasures, whatever she could find that wasn’t destroyed by the fire. I’m sure it was hard for her to lose Max and then her home.”

He was writing in his notebook. “You’ve been seeing some of Celia and Vicky too, right?”

“A little,” I responded, confused.

“Have you heard either of them talk about having a boyfriend?”

I shook my head. This right after him telling me we belonged together. “Celia seems to be dating someone.”

He handed me the paper he’d filled out. “My cousin Cindy is getting married, and I’m looking for a date for the wedding. You know how Mom gets if I show up alone. Sign here if you agree with the statements.”

I read my words in his handwriting. “I’m not sure about Vicky. Want me to ask her?”

“I’m not your kid brother, Dae. I can ask her myself.”

“Okay. I was only offering. You don’t have to bite my head off.”

“Sorry.” He took the statement sheet I’d signed. “I get a little frustrated sometimes when everyone takes me for granted. Good old Tim. Always there when you need a date but not a relationship. I have needs too, you know.”

“You’ll find someone right for you,” I assured him.

“I already have—but you want someone else.”

He let me out in the parking lot without offering to walk me upstairs. “Thank you for your assistance.” He nodded politely.

“I’ll see you later, Tim.”

On my way up the ramp to the boardwalk, I glanced at Celia’s phone. Curiosity got the better of me and I opened it. I had to make sure it was Celia’s, right? There were dozens of calls from early this morning—one almost every minute starting at midnight. That was probably when Agnes drove them out to the house. All the calls were to the same number. Most of them were too short to have even been answered by the person at the other number. A few had lasted longer.

There was something very familiar about the number she was calling. I didn’t know how I’d know Roger’s number but it seemed that I did. I started thinking about how many ways this could go bad for Celia. I tried calling Agnes a few times to warn her but there was no answer and her voice mail was full. I thought about calling Chief Michaels, but without any real proof, what could he do?

I hoped for Celia’s sake that Roger was as infatuated with her as she was with him. Maybe she’d be safe until I could figure out what to do next.

I waved to Trudy as I passed Curves and Curls. She had an appointment today after all. I picked up a few UPS packages left outside my door and noticed, as I stood up, that the door to the shop was not quite closed. I was sure I’d locked it before leaving with Tim.

Probably Gramps, I thought, since he had a key too. But maybe not. Usually I don’t worry about whether or not the door is locked. Of course, Tim checks it every night after I leave. The police check all the businesses in Duck. Still, given everything that was going on, I didn’t feel quite safe.

I put the packages back down so my hands would be free. Not that I expected to fight off some burglar, but it seemed like a good idea. I pushed the door open carefully and stopped short when I saw Brad Spitzer sitting behind the counter.

I suddenly remembered where I’d seen the phone number on Celia’s phone. It wasn’t Roger after all.

Chapter 23

“H
i, Dae! I hope you don’t mind me stopping by. I was down here meeting with Chief Michaels and thought I’d see if you had time to do your thing.” Brad’s smile was genuine and friendly.

I wasn’t sure what to do next. Knowing Brad was Celia’s boyfriend, the one she’d probably told about going to get the gold, raised all kinds of issues. Could he have been the driver who crashed into Agnes’s car? That thought led to another—was it possible Brad could also be the arsonist who burned the house in the first place?

Running out the door, screaming, was an option. But then I might never know the truth. Not that I planned to openly confront him on any of it. But there was a small chance I might see more than he anticipated when I looked into his head.

“Sure. That should be fine.” I was as friendly and open as I could be. I had to make him trust me. “There haven’t been many customers today anyway.”

“Good! Now, how do we do this? You made it sound easy, but there must be more to it. There always is, isn’t there?”

I laughed—it sounded too loud and forced. I closed the shop door and reminded myself to be natural. “Not really. It’s either in your head or not. It’s not complicated.”

“You said we had to hold hands.”

“That’s right. You have a good memory. We’ll sit over here on the sofa and take a look. What is it that you’re missing?”

He got up, waited for me to sit down, then joined me on the burgundy sofa. “As I explained, it’s something that my father left to me. But I can’t seem to find it.”

I nodded hoping I didn’t seem as uncomfortable as I felt. In the meantime, my heart was racing as I considered all the possibilities. Could Brad be Bunk’s son? He seemed to be in his midforties. That would fit into the time line Bunk told me about. Had Brad been the one who killed Max and then tried to kill his own father?

“How does this work?” Brad asked. “Can you see everything I’m thinking?”

“No, of course not. All I can see is what you’ve lost. You have to hold a picture of it in your mind. I should see where it is from there.”

I didn’t dare ask him what he was looking for. What could I say to get him to confess that wouldn’t sound suspicious?

“Give me your hands.” I put mine out. They were shaking a little and cold.

He put his warm hands in mine. “You’re freezing, Dae, and trembling. Are you okay?”

Too late, I saw the unusual green-blue ring worn by Roger. As my hand came in contact with it, a burst of emotion blinded me to everything else. I saw Brad on the island, following the men he’d paid to kill the security guards so he could get to Bunk, his father. Brad saw the ring on the dead man’s hand, took it, cleaned the blood off and put it on his finger. Then he dumped Roger into the sea.
That’s why I hadn’t seen him.

This proved conclusively that Brad was the killer—at least the one who killed the men on the island. It didn’t prove he was involved with Max’s death. Despite being totally disgusted touching that ring, I knew I had to play him along for a while.

Just remember that phone calls on Celia’s cell phone don’t mean anything unless you can tie them together with everything else.
I closed my eyes and let myself move into his head.

At first it was dark and disorienting as always. I couldn’t see anything that had substance or form. I had a reason for making sure that what I was looking for truly belonged to the seeker. My abilities didn’t know the difference between true ownership and false. I could see stolen objects as well as things that belonged to the person. I’d made the rule to protect myself.

“Don’t you need to know what you’re looking for?” Brad whispered.

“No. As long as you know and can focus on it, that’s all that matters.”

And that seemed to be the case. I saw the gold Kevin and I had shoveled into the barrels stored at the Blue Whale. I gasped a little at that. Fortunately, the things I saw were usually not apparent to the seeker. Kevin was safe for now.

But seeing the gold in his mind convinced me even more that Brad was responsible for everything that had happened in Duck since Max’s death. He was familiar enough with the area to use the cannon from Corolla so Sam would be blamed for the Duck museum explosion. Being an arson investigator probably helped him formulate the plan to fire the cannonball at the propane tank.

“Are you getting anything?” he asked.

“I think so.” I had to string this out and hope an idea to trap him came to mind. At that moment, though, I felt nothing except terror. If he realized what I knew about him, this could all go bad very quickly. “What you’re looking for is heavy, right? Something very valuable.”

He shifted position a little, but when I dared a glance, his eyes were still closed. “That’s right. Can you tell where it is?”

“I think whoever has it recently moved it. Do you know anything about that?”

“You’re right! Someone moved it all right. And it wasn’t hers to move in the first place. She had no right keeping it from me.”

I swallowed hard. This was all well and good having him confirm my suspicions, but how would I convince Chief Michaels that Brad was the bad guy? The chief was still after Bunk Whitley. I needed something tangible that only Brad might know—something that the chief would realize only the killer would know.

“Your father—he’s from around here, right?”

“Yes. He doesn’t live here now, but he’s originally from Duck.”

“Your mother died very young.” I felt like Shayla with her tarot cards. “Your father abandoned you after she died.”

“Exactly! He never loved her—he never loved me. All he’s ever loved is that gold. That’s why I should have it. He owes me. My older sister wants it but I have news for both of them—over my dead body.”

He’d confirmed a mixture of facts, but it was still not enough to make a case for Chief Michaels. Did I dare go any further with this? Could I tell him where the gold was hidden without jeopardizing Kevin, Agnes, Celia and Vicky?

I wanted to give Celia a hard slap for making this worse than it was already. What was she thinking, going out with this guy she barely knew and telling him everything he needed to know?

I reminded myself that the important thing was for us all get through this in one piece. When Celia found out she’d been dating her own uncle, that would be punishment enough.

The idea of telling him what he really wanted to know became the best answer I could see out of the situation. I couldn’t sit here all day guessing things he could relate to. I had to find a way for him to show his hand. My plan might be risky but it seemed the only thing that might work.

“What you’re looking for is at the Blue Whale Inn. I think it might be part of the museum items being stored there.” I added in the last part so he wouldn’t suspect that I’d taken part in moving the gold. “You should be able to walk inside and get it.”

I gave him plenty of details about the lobby, the front door and the circle drive. My plan consisted of piquing his interest enough that he’d take the bait and go for the gold. When he left to retrieve his prize, I’d get on the phone with Agent Walker and Chief Michaels. They’d be at the inn waiting for him before he even got there.

Brad opened his eyes and looked at me. “This is incredible! Once we get through this, we can work on another project—something else valuable my father left behind.”

“Great!” I took my hands back, glad to separate myself from him. “Let me know how it goes.”

“Sure! How much do I owe you?”

“I don’t charge for this. You’re welcome to buy something from the shop if you want to help the cause.” It was all I could do to keep talking away, praying he’d get tired of it and leave.

Instead, he took a pistol from his jacket pocket and pointed it at me. “After we get the gold, I’ll be glad to buy something from you. Get your jacket. You’re coming with me.”

“Wait a minute!” I feigned anger—I was really terrified. “I found your answer. Why are you doing this?”

“I know you’re connected here, Dae. I can’t take a chance on you giving me away before I get what I deserve. I’ve worked too hard to get to this point—harder than I needed to, I guess. Do you have any idea how difficult it was getting that cannon from Corolla and setting it up next to the museum here so no one would notice it? And all the time, I could’ve just asked you. I didn’t need to go through so much to take dear Agnes out of the picture and leave the gold for me.”

I knew from listening to Gramps and his law enforcement friends that it wasn’t a good thing when a killer decides to unburden himself to someone. That meant he didn’t plan for me to be around long enough to share the information with anyone else. It was a sobering thought. How did such a good plan go so bad so quickly?

I put on my jacket, wishing I could think of some way to let someone know what was going on. Obviously he wouldn’t let me use the cell phone. Mrs. Euly Stanley wasn’t due until five—three long hours away. I could be so dead by then.

I reached for a tissue, knocking over a few personal items I kept on the counter, then quietly set Celia’s phone on the counter behind the cash register. I didn’t know if that would mean anything to anyone who saw it, but I couldn’t think of what else to do.

“Okay.” He pushed the gun into my side and walked close beside me. “We’ll close up for the day and be on our way. No strange moves or friendly conversations on the boardwalk. We walk straight down to my car and get inside like friends. Okay?”