A Timely Vision Page 5

  “It’ll sink in on her,” I assured him.

  “I hope so. She scared me. I don’t mind admitting it. I’d hate to see her taken out of her home. She might not be able to live alone anymore after this. I’ve seen it happen with folks her age.”

  We climbed into the car and headed back to my house, weaving around fallen tree branches and patio furniture that had been swept into the street by the storm. I looked out the side window at the ocean. There were still some whitecaps, but the surf was mostly calm and the tide level was back where it belonged. “She knows what we were saying. She’s not crazy or senile. She couldn’t take it all in, but she’ll be fine.”

  “In the meantime, we’ve had a murder.” He shook his head. “Those SBI boys are gonna come down here and tear up our community.”

  “If they find out who killed Miss Elizabeth, I guess it’ll be worth it.”

  The storm had caused substantial damage up and down the Outer Banks. Duck was hard hit, but we’d seen worse. As soon as it passed, everyone was out cleaning up the mess and putting the town back together. It was a way of life for us. This coast wasn’t called the Cape of Storms for nothing.

  I was lucky there was no real damage to Missing Pieces. Rain had come in through a broken window in the back storage room, but the water hadn’t reached anything of value. Gramps and I used a wet-dry vac and a mop to clean it up. The power came on shortly after we’d left Miss Mildred’s house. I was glad she had that much anyway.

  Everyone was devastated by the news of Miss Elizabeth’s death. After the weekend, I sat in the town hall listening to people talk about it as they waited for the town meeting to begin. It had been the topic of conversation on everyone’s lips for the past two days. No one could believe anyone in Duck would hurt Miss Elizabeth. But there were always outsiders here. The same tourists who provided so much of our livelihood came from across the world. There was no way of knowing anything about them.

  “I heard she was robbed and raped,” Althea from the library in Manteo whispered loudly to Trudy. “She didn’t have her purse on her. No one’s found it either.”

  I didn’t tell her that Chief Michaels said it didn’t look like robbery at all. Whoever attacked Miss Elizabeth had left her mother’s expensive watch on her arm when he or she had buried her. That wasn’t like a robbery. It was true they hadn’t found her purse. But the ocean could’ve taken that away before we got there.

  “Did you hear anything about Miss Elizabeth being raped?” Trudy asked me after Althea had moved on to have the same conversation with Mary Lou on the other side of the town meeting room.

  “No. I haven’t heard anything other than what Chief Michaels announced two days ago. I think he’s waiting for the medical examiner’s report before he releases any more information. Althea’s only speculating—she doesn’t know anything for sure.” As I spoke, I kept one eye on the rapidly growing group entering town hall for our monthly meeting. This large of a crowd was unusual. Normally only a handful of residents showed up. No doubt it was a sign of how worried everyone was about what had happened to Miss Elizabeth. With no real answers, the whole town was on edge.

  I was on edge too, worried about who’d do such a terrible thing, of course, but also heartsick because I was the one who’d found her buried in the sand. My gift led me to her. The idea of that frightened me.

  Since the storm, I’d spent some time sitting alone in the dark, wondering whether this was the start of something far worse than being a finder of lost things. I didn’t want to find dead bodies. I hoped never to see another corpse outside of a funeral home.

  There was no one I could talk to about it. According to my mother, my grandmother had been able to find things when she was young, but she had died before I was born. Though my mother had never had the gift, she’d understood it, and her unique perspective had helped me as I grew. But she was gone too—thirteen years this past April. It was only Gramps and me.

  I knew Gramps understood about finding things, but I was having a hard time working up to explaining exactly what had happened at the beach during the storm. I’d hoped to make peace with it in my own mind before talking to him. I didn’t want to burden him with the information. He’d been there for me through some terrible dark places. I was old enough now to figure this out for myself.

  Chapter 4

  The other members of the Duck Town Council were all in place around the big, U-shaped table before I sat down. There weren’t enough chairs to accommodate the crowd of people who’d gathered for the meeting, so many were standing at the back of the room. One of them was Kevin. I waved to him through the crowd. He didn’t wave back, but he nodded and smiled.

  I took the gavel that had been donated by the League of Women Voters and brought the room to order. Everyone quieted for the Pledge of Allegiance and the reading of last month’s minutes. Then we came to the public forum part of the agenda where citizens were allowed to speak.

  “What are we doing about finding Miss Elizabeth’s killer?” Mark Samson, owner of the Rib Shack, called out.

  The room erupted with loud chatter. I banged my gavel, but no one paid any attention. The whole town seemed to be talking at the same time, demanding answers I knew the chief didn’t have. The other council members looked worried and kept sneaking furtive glances toward the door, as though they wanted to leave. Nancy calmly typed all of it into her laptop.

  “Someone is out there stalking people in Duck,” yelled out Carter Hatley, owner of Game World. “What are we going to do about it?”

  I got to my feet. If the gavel wasn’t going to do any good, maybe yelling back would. “The chief is doing everything he can,” I explained loudly. “The SBI is here investigating. I know you all are upset. I understand your anger and frustration. But coming in here and disrupting the town meeting won’t help.”

  I noticed as I spoke that a few strangers with TV cameras were sneaking into the back of the meeting room. I guessed I’d see myself on TV later that night.

  “Mayor, this is bad for business,” Carter yelled back. “We need an answer now. We can’t afford to wait.”

  “You can’t afford to wait? Mr. Hatley, with all due respect, you didn’t lose a loved one. How do you think Miss Mildred feels about now? She’s been wronged more than anyone in this room. You’re worried about business? She lost her only sister. I think you should sit down and think about that.”

  I wasn’t sure my reprimand would work, but Carter finally nodded and sat back down. No one could’ve been more surprised than me. The rest of the group followed his lead, and the meeting progressed as it should after that. The council cut the proceedings short, recessing until the following week when we all hoped things would be calmer. The only business we conducted was to approve sending Miss Mildred a condolence card and flowers for the funeral.

  Afterward, people stood around talking, debating whether everything that could be done was being done. Chief Michaels brooded over it for a few minutes before gruffly thanking me and leaving the building.

  “You did a good job,” Tim Mabry said as he approached me with a big grin plastered on his face. He took out his nightstick and patted the palm of his hand with it. “We could’ve handled it. There was no reason to worry.”

  “I don’t think two police officers launching themselves on a group of townspeople in front of TV cameras is such a great idea. It’s best this way.” I gathered my papers and folder together. There was no reason to hang around.

  “I’d be glad to walk you home if you’re scared,” he said.

  “I’m not. But thanks. I’ll see you later.” I smiled as I made my retreat. A group of people were holding a candlelight vigil in Duck Municipal Park. I couldn’t avoid the town meeting since it was part of my job, but now that it was over, I wanted to head down that way. Maybe going through the grief process with the group would be good for me.

  “Mayor O’Donnell!” Jerry Richards called out. “Remember me? From the interview after the Fourth of July para
de?”

  “Of course.” I shook his hand, not looking at the TV camera over his shoulder but aware of it.

  “The death of Elizabeth Simpson, of course. It’s such a tragedy. I thought we might talk about it.”

  “I don’t think so. Excuse me, Jerry.”

  “But, Mayor—”

  I didn’t answer and didn’t turn back. Talking about what had happened on TV wasn’t my idea of helping anyone. I hoped he wouldn’t follow me. Luckily, I managed to avoid the second TV crew outside. I checked my watch. It was slightly after eight P.M. The vigil had already begun. I had a white, gardenia-scented candle in my purse from Shayla’s shop. It was supposed to help with grief and give peace to Miss Elizabeth’s soul.

  I’d barely stepped off the boardwalk outside of town hall when someone came up beside me. I turned to face the person, ready to fend off another reporter, and was surprised to see Kevin there instead. “I hope you don’t have any questions.”

  “Not me. I saw you inspecting that candle in your purse before the meeting. I thought you were probably headed for the vigil.”

  “Is there anything you don’t see?” I slowed my pace. Silly, actually, since he could’ve probably kept up without any problem. “What brought you to the council meeting? I’ve never seen you here before.”

  “I’ve been meaning to come, but I’ve been busy. You did quite a number up there with that gavel.”

  “A good mayor has to know when to be firm. I know everyone is upset about Miss Elizabeth, but we still have to conduct the town’s business.”

  “And how are you holding up, Dae?”

  “I’m doing as well as I can given the circumstances.” I didn’t want to mention my fears about finding more dead bodies. “I’m not afraid to be out on the streets. Just because one bad thing has happened doesn’t mean the whole town is bad.”

  “That’s true.”

  We walked along Duck Road in companionable silence as cars crept by us, caught in summer traffic on the two-lane road. Kevin wasn’t a nervous, chattering kind of person like Tim. I was grateful for that.

  “I guess everyone in Duck knows that you find things,” he said as we passed Andy’s Ice Cream.

  “Everyone who lives here full-time anyway. My grandmother found things too. The older folks remember her. People here accept that I find things the same way they accept that I have blue eyes. It’s part of who I am.”

  “You’ve never been tested for the extent of your psychometric abilities?”

  “No. I didn’t even know it was called that until we had the Internet.” The night was warm but clear, stars twinkling down at us from the dark sky. Pieces of tree branches still littered the street. I made a mental note to get after the town maintenance people. Sand was everywhere, of course. It wasn’t easy keeping that where it belonged.

  I could hear Reverend Lisa leading the singing in the park. Lisa is a large woman who lives life in a big way. She has a booming, unmistakable voice that could probably carry from one end of Duck to the other. Tonight, it sounded like the angels singing from beneath the trees. The lights in the park glowed softly around the candles held by at least fifty hands.

  “We can talk later, maybe when you come by to find my lost key.” He nodded toward the group. “I know you miss your friend. I’m sorry for your loss.”

  “Thanks.” Realizing all over again that Miss Elizabeth was gone, I sniffed and wiped my eyes. “I was able to pull the council meeting together, but I’m kind of a mess when I’m not being the mayor.” I took out my candle and searched my pocket for the match I must’ve dropped.

  Kevin lit the candle for me with his cigarette lighter. “I used to smoke. I never got over the habit of carrying a lighter.”

  I thought he’d probably drift away, like sea foam, as I walked up to the group, but to my surprise, he stayed with me. We found a spot near the edge of the crowd, and I took a moment to glance around. The candlelight illuminated the tears and anger on the faces of the people I’d grown up with.

  It was hard dealing with Miss Elizabeth’s loss. Maybe it would be easier if there was someone to direct our anger at. But so far, there was no one. I guessed it was too much to expect the guilty party to come forward and turn themselves in. All we could do was wait.

  “Our good friend and neighbor, Miss Elizabeth Simpson, would not want to see us standing here feeling bad about her death,” Reverend Lisa was saying. “She’d want us to go out and tell people about her and her life here in Duck. She’d want us to carry on. That’s what we have to do, folks. We have to put on a smile Miss Elizabeth can see all the way in heaven, because we all know that’s where she is.”

  “We don’t know that.” Suddenly Miss Mildred’s voice filled the silence after Lisa stopped speaking. “Why do we always assume people go to heaven, even bad people like Lizzie?”

  “She’s overwrought,” whispered a woman beside me. “She doesn’t know what she’s saying.”

  The group moved aside as Miss Mildred’s frail form continued past them until she was standing beside Lisa under the streetlight. It created a halo around her white hair but left her face in darkness. “Lizzie wasn’t the good person you all think she was. She took Johnny Simpson from me. She was fast with the judge in the Duck beauty pageant. She took things from me all of my life. She was my sister, but she did evil things. I don’t think God wants her in heaven.”

  Lisa smiled and tried to gloss over Miss Mildred’s harsh words. “I’m sure we could all judge the people we love. We know their strengths and their weaknesses, don’t we? But in the end, Miss Elizabeth was a good person who didn’t deserve to die alone out there on the beach.”

  The group of mourners agreed with her, and Lisa started singing again, probably hoping she could change the mood and help Miss Mildred out of the awkward situation she’d created.

  “She doesn’t sound like she loved her sister the way the rest of you did,” Kevin commented.

  “She’s old and she’s in shock,” I reminded him. “They feuded and fussed like all sisters. But they loved each other.”

  “You’re right. I wish I’d had a sister, but I was an only child. What about you?”

  “I’m an only child too. I wish I would’ve had a sibling when I was growing up. Even a brother would’ve been okay.” I joined the others in singing, putting my whole heart into “Amazing Grace,” and smiled as I heard Kevin’s baritone beside me. Chief Michaels was right. Kevin might be from somewhere else, but he belonged here in Duck.

  I watched as Mary Lou took Miss Mildred’s arm and led her back out of the crowd, toward home. Miss Mildred was tearful and seemed confused. She went with Mary Lou, but she wasn’t happy about it. The two ladies were swallowed up in the darkness as they left the park, and the group came together again. I was glad Mary Lou had rescued Miss Mildred. I guessed that’s what she did best—rescuing. Kind of like how I found things.

  The singing ended and was followed by an emotional moment when we were all supposed to blow out our candles at the same time to signify the passing of Miss Elizabeth. But before anyone could exhale, a brisk breeze blew up off of the water behind us and snuffed out the tiny fires. There were murmurs of ghostly visitation as the crowd began to break up. In Duck, there were always rumors of ghostly visitation. It was part of our culture, like pirate f olklore.

  “That was spooky.” Shayla sidled up to me, then looked at the sky. “I feel like she was here, Dae. What do you think?”

  “I think breezes come up off the water all the time.”

  “I can’t believe you of all people don’t find that kind of spooky. I mean, you’re psychic and all. You and I can see into that other world that most people miss every day.”

  “I don’t have powers beyond the grave or anything. My ability is like teleportation or telekinesis. It’s a science of the mind.”

  “Whatever,” she argued. “You found Miss Elizabeth’s body. Her spirit cried out to you. You can’t deny that.”

  “Her watch cri
ed out to me. That’s it. It had nothing to do with her being dead.”

  “Dae is right,” Kevin chimed in. “There’s a lot of exploration into the field of psychometry for security reasons.”

  I didn’t need decent lighting to see Shayla’s big brown eyes focus on him. “And who are you? I think I’d remember if you were Dae’s beau.”

  I introduced him to Shayla. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

  “Hallelujah! You’re the new man from the Blue Whale, aren’t you? I’ve been hoping to meet you.” Shayla wrapped her arm around his. “You have to buy me a drink after all this grief and spooky stuff. I think Curbside should still be open. You got anything against buying a girl a drink?”

  I thought Shayla’s considerable powers of seduction and persuasion (part of her stock-in-trade as a palm reader) might be wasted on Kevin, who seemed too worldly and hardened by his time in the FBI. I found myself holding my breath and hoping it would be so. But I was disappointed. He drew her closer and smiled down at her like a sailor on leave for the first time in weeks.

  “You two go on ahead,” I said right away. “I’m tired and I’m going home. I thought Gramps would be out here, but I don’t see him. He might not be feeling good. I better check on him.”

  “That’s good, honey,” Shayla said without bothering to look at me. “We’ll get on fine without you.”

  “After we walk her home,” Kevin intervened.

  Shayla giggled. “Of course we should walk her home. Even with Dae’s command of the supernatural, she could be in danger with a killer stalking the streets of Duck.”

  “You must be an actress,” Kevin said. “You have such a command of the language.”

  And of course Shayla was too smitten by him to realize that he was subtly insulting her. At least I thought that’s what he was doing. I sure wasn’t going to tell her, though. She’d wanted to meet him, and she’d practically thrown herself at him. She’d have to take what she got.

  “I’ll be fine.” I started to walk away. “You two go on. I’m not worried about anyone stalking the streets except a stray dog or two.”