A Touch of Gold mpm-2 Page 11

  “Yeah. We’ve had an APB out on him since we searched his home and office. We’re doing so in an effort to assist the Duck police. You didn’t have to come up here and check on us.”

  “I wasn’t,” I said flatly. “I came up to help find Sam. I think he might be in trouble.” I told him what I knew of Sam’s disappearance without divulging information I’d gathered from his personal effects. I didn’t think Chief Peabody would believe me.

  “That’s real nice of you, Mayor. But we can take care of our own. And I’m sure you know that calling us out like this isn’t a good idea unless you know something pertinent to finding Sam.”

  I glanced at Kevin and the answer came to me. “We have reason to suspect that Sam has met with foul play.”

  Chief Peabody looked at Kevin too. “Is this your lawyer, Mayor? Is he helping you look for Sam?”

  “I’m Kevin Brickman.” He stepped forward and shook hands with the chief. “I own the Blue Whale Inn.”

  “I heard about you.” The chief squinted at him, the sun in his eyes. “Helping her meddle in police affairs isn’t a good idea.”

  “Mayor O’Donnell does have some pertinent information.” Kevin told him about the man with Sam.

  “How did you figure out Sam was out here at all?” the chief asked.

  “We talked to the outfitter,” I answered. “Then we spoke with Mr. Watts here, and he told us the same thing.”

  The chief turned his cold gray eyes on Tom Watts. “So what do you know about this? And why haven’t you reported it to the police?”

  “I didn’t know the police were interested,” Tom said. “News doesn’t make it this far out very quickly. I’ve been here for the last two weeks. I told Dae that I saw Sam with the man she described. That’s it. They said they were going to see the horses.”

  “I think we found Sam’s Segway about half a mile from here,” I added.

  “What makes you think it belongs to Sam?” Chief Peabody questioned.

  “I don’t know for sure.” I shrugged. “But there is an abandoned Segway over there and it might belong to Sam. It shouldn’t be hard to check out the identification number and find out. I can call if you want me to.”

  The chief’s face hardened into an even more disapproving expression, if that were possible. “I think we can handle this from here, Mayor. No offense, but it’s best for civilians like yourself and Mr. Brickman to mind your own business. We don’t need any of your hocus-pocus down here in Corolla to maintain the law. Have a nice day.”

  Chapter 10

  It was getting late, and there was no way to argue with Chief Peabody without telling him about the hocus-pocus that had led me here. He called in some reinforcements and took Tom off to one side, maybe to ask for more details. Maybe not.

  “We should be getting back,” Kevin said. “I think he has the idea anyway.”

  “You could’ve told him you were with the FBI before. Maybe that would’ve made it sound more convincing.”

  “Former FBI agents aren’t usually best buddies with the police. It’s not something I advertise.”

  I realized my remark was out of line and apologized. “I know. I guess I didn’t want to sound like a nut job. You’re right, though. At least they’re going to look for him. I hope they find him and he’s okay.”

  “But you don’t think so, do you?”

  I couldn’t answer. The visions were too new. The darkness at the end of the fear and the running could mean anything. I was taking it to mean that something bad had happened, but maybe not. I truly hoped not.

  We headed back to Corolla on the sand trails and turned in the Segways when we got there. I still needed time to go home and change before the town meeting. I wasn’t looking forward to it, especially since I was coming home from Corolla without anything new to share.

  “I know I’m not in law enforcement,” I said to Kevin as we got back in his pickup. “But Sam’s actions don’t seem to be those of a man who’s running away because he killed someone.”

  Kevin nodded. “I agree. I wouldn’t go get on one of those things and head out into the island. Logic dictates Sam going to the mainland and hiding out. Too many people know him here. That’s a bad thing, unless there’s someone willing to hide you.”

  “I know it’s not enough to keep him out of jail if the police really believe he blew up the museum and killed Max. But maybe it might make them think about it differently.”

  “Maybe. If he has a good alibi, that would be a lot better. It’s hard to beat a good alibi.”

  “I guess we won’t know unless they find him.”

  “You’ve done what you could for now.” He smiled at me. “At great personal risk too, I might add. I don’t know if I would’ve touched that scooter not knowing what I might find. You’re a brave person.”

  “And foolish.” I laughed. “Don’t bother to deny it. I can hear it in your voice.”

  We’d reached my house, and I hopped out of the truck after it had pulled in the driveway. “Foolish? I don’t know. Crazy might be more like it.”

  “Thanks!” I slammed the truck door. “See you at the meeting.”

  The house was quiet and dark when I got inside. Gramps had left a note on the kitchen table telling me that he was out doing volunteer fire department drills and that there was a casserole in the oven.

  I glanced at the casserole and decided to skip it. I grabbed a granola bar from the cabinet and went up to take a quick shower.

  I opened a new bar of soap and went through all the sensations that described where and how it was made. Already it was becoming routine to me. I looked at my hands as I got washed and wondered why the explosion at the museum had triggered this effect in me.

  I thought about all those times my hands had tingled when I approached something valuable. It was one of the ways I decided what to buy when I went shopping for treasures. Maybe this new ability had always been there, lying dormant, waiting for some event—the explosion in this case—to set it lose.

  Kevin wanted to protect me from making mistakes that might cause me to end up like his FBI partner. But I’d realized this afternoon, when I grabbed the statue and then the scooter, that I couldn’t shy away from this new aspect of my abilities. I couldn’t protect myself from it any more than I could keep myself from getting wet in a downpour.

  It was here. It was part of me. Though it might be uncomfortable right now, I knew I’d master it. I’d learned from the best when my mother had taught me as a child. I appreciated Kevin’s guidance, definitely his backup, but with time, these new abilities and I would learn to get along fine together.

  After getting out of the shower, I dried off and changed into a plum-colored knit dress that made me look like a sober and dignified mayor—with style. I wasn’t ready to be too sober or dignified yet.

  I looked at my slightly sunburned face as I applied plum-colored lipstick and brushed my wayward hair. I’d spent all day with Kevin. It had been an enjoyable experience. In many ways, we seemed to fill in small gaps in each other’s personalities. It was exciting and nerve-wracking at the same time. What would I say to everyone, especially Shayla? I didn’t want Gramps planning our wedding already, but I knew he’d be interested too.

  That’s one of the problems with small-town life, but it was one of the perks as well. People might be there when I didn’t want them to be—but then again, they were always there when I needed them.

  I smiled at myself in the mirror. Being with Kevin was different than I’d expected yet everything I’d thought it could be.

  I left the house and started walking down Duck Road toward town hall along with several other people headed in the same direction. The Duck Shoppes parking lot was full, always a barometer of how well attended a meeting would be. It looked like people wanted to hear what the chief had to say about the explosion at the museum.

  Shayla stopped me as I started up to the boardwalk, demanding to know where I was all afternoon. “I thought we had an appointment t
o go over your chakra again.”

  I admired the beautiful black shawl she wore with such flair. Shawls always looked awkward on me, and I was never sure what to do with them. Usually I ended up taking them off. “Sorry. I forgot. There was so much going on.”

  Her eyes narrowed as she looked me over. “It wouldn’t have anything to do with you seeing Kevin, would it? Your chakra is a little fuzzy today but better than yesterday.”

  Obviously, Old Man Sweeney had been happy to share his knowledge of my whereabouts with the rest of the town. “Shayla—”

  “Don’t bother explaining, Dae. Kevin doesn’t want me anymore. Maybe he wants you. But for how long? The man is fickle.”

  “I don’t know,” I admitted, feeling bad for her. “Look, we had dinner at the Inn so I could look for a wine cask he was missing. It wasn’t anything serious.”

  “So you aren’t dating now?” Her brown eyes narrowed, gauging my response, until I thought she might be asleep. Except for that terrible frown.

  I wanted to lie. Even though I was usually jealous of Shayla and her laid-back, Big Easy attitude, I wanted to reassure her that she wasn’t being left out. But how could I after what had happened between Kevin and me? Besides, there was no point in not telling her something she was bound to find out anyway. “We’re sort of dating, I guess.”

  “Ha!” She wrapped her beautiful shawl around her slender body and marched up the stairs.

  “What does that mean?” I yelled after her despite the looks from all the people who were on their way to town hall.

  “It means if you lie like that, Dae, your nose could grow like the doll in the fairy tale.”

  I stormed up the stairs to stand beside her. “Puppet,” I corrected automatically. “Pinocchio was a puppet.”

  “Doll. Puppet. Whatever. You lied to me. If you wanted Kevin, you should’ve said so. I asked you. You said you weren’t interested.”

  “You dated him already and broke up with him,” I reminded her. “That kind of makes him fair game.”

  “Fair game?” She pursed her lips. “If you weren’t my friend, I’d slap you. He’s not fair game. We were taking a break, that’s all. We never said we wouldn’t get back together again.”

  “Then I guess you will, if we break up.”

  She stared at me as if wishing I were a voodoo doll she could put pins in—then walked into town hall alone.

  I sighed, trying not to think about it, at least not for a while. I needed to be clearheaded about what I’d say at the meeting. Then I could mull it over and decide if being with Kevin would be worth jeopardizing my friendship with Shayla.

  Inside, town hall was filled to capacity. People were standing along the side walls and sitting on the floor. Nancy was scurrying around trying to find chairs for as many people as she could. “We’re gonna have to find a bigger place,” she huffed as she went by.

  I took my spot at the head of the council table and looked at my nameplate. I chose the small, wood gavel that bore the name of the town. I was the first person to use the gavel—the first mayor since incorporation. It was an awesome responsibility sometimes. Not all ribbon cuttings and public appearances at the Jaycees’. There were times, like tonight, when a big smile wouldn’t suffice.

  I knew people wanted words of comfort. I could give them those words, but something about the set of Chief Michaels’s mouth told me he’d be more to the point. I guessed we each had our duty to do.

  When the room couldn’t hold any more and the sound of so many people talking at once made my head feel like it was going to explode, I called the meeting to order. Residents sat down politely and stopped talking. Reverend Lisa gave the invocation, which included words of memorial for Max.

  The room got very quiet after that. Because it wasn’t a regular meeting of the town council, there were no minutes to read or town business to talk about. I started to speak, but Councilman Wilson cut me off. “We need to know what’s being done about the museum and Max Caudle’s death. No fancy words are going to take care of the problem.”

  Even for Randal “Mad Dog” Wilson, this was abrupt and bordering on rude. I’d heard rumors that he planned to challenge me for mayor in next year’s election. I hadn’t expected he’d start so soon. On the other hand, when would he ever have another audience like this one?

  “I don’t have any fancy words for what’s happened.” I got to my feet and addressed all the people I knew so well. “This has been a terrible time for Duck and for all of us. The police are doing everything they can to find out who’s responsible for the explosion.”

  “If Chief Michaels was really doing his job, this wouldn’t have happened,” Councilman Wilson continued. “I checked today while Mayor O’Donnell was out gallivanting around with a certain innkeeper and found out that we don’t even have a plan for a terrorist attack. What kind of preparation is that?”

  “I can’t speak for Chief Michaels, and I won’t defend how I spent my day. But I would like to remind the councilman that he’s been in elected office as long as I have. It seems odd to me that he only recently realized there were any problems in Duck.”

  Councilman Wilson lumbered to his feet. He was a large man—easily six-four and three hundred pounds. “In answer to the mayor’s challenge—”

  “Are we here to talk about what happened at the museum or to listen to politics?” Chief Michaels demanded. His words were met with applause from residents. “That’s what I thought. I’m here to tell all of you what I know about the explosion. You may not like what I have to say, but I promise you it will be the truth.”

  I felt a little embarrassed, even though I was only defending myself against Councilman Wilson’s attacks. I realized then the election wasn’t going to be a walk in the park. I was the only one who’d run for mayor in our first municipal election. Now that I’d been mayor for two years, I was going to have to defend all my actions to everyone. Was that something I was prepared to do?

  Chief Michaels was explaining what happened at the museum to the rapt audience. “We located what we believe are Mr. Caudle’s remains in the building after the explosion. We’re currently waiting for DNA reports to come back and confirm what we found.”

  “What about the pirate curse?” Joe Endy asked, raising his raspy voice to be heard in the room. “Rafe Masterson paid Max a visit, I’ll be bound. He took his gold back too. Nothing much you can do about it, Chief.”

  “And I wouldn’t even try, Mr. Endy,” Chief Michaels told him. “Folks, I’m here to tell you that no pirate ghost is responsible for what happened to Max. I know all of you, some since you were kids. I like a good yarn as much as the next one, but that’s all Rafe Masterson is. A real flesh-and-blood killer is responsible for Max’s death and the mayor being injured. That scares me a hell of a lot more than any pirate ghost.”

  Mr. Endy didn’t look too pleased with the chief’s statement. People usually humored the ninety-year-old around here. The chief had been a little blunt by Duck standards.

  “So if it’s a real person responsible,” began Cody Baucum, one of the owners of the Wild Stallions bar and grill on the boardwalk, “do we have any leads about who it is?”

  “We’re checking out every aspect of the situation,” Chief Michaels replied.

  “In other words, no,” August Grandin said. He owned the General Store. “That’s police speak for we don’t know, right, Chief?”

  The room kind of got out of control for a minute. I banged my gavel a few times and people began to settle down. I noticed Agnes Caudle in the back of the room as she slowly got to her feet. Seeing her there, the crowd quieted.

  “I’d like to thank Chief Michaels and his officers as well as the members of the Duck Volunteer Fire Department for everything they’ve done. Max is gone, but he believed in this town. He wouldn’t want what happened to tear us apart. We have good people here, and they do the best job they can. Shame on any of you who don’t support them. That’s all I came to say.”

  Agnes s
at back down, wiping her eyes. She and Max had two daughters, who now sat on either side of their mother. I knew both of them from school. One was a little older than me and the other a little younger. I didn’t get along with either one of them.

  “Thank you, Agnes,” Chief Michaels said, acknowledging her. “That means a lot to me and the rest of the department. We’ll find out what happened to the museum, but it’s gonna take some time. You all are gonna have to be patient and let the procedures work.”

  Kevin got to his feet. I hadn’t noticed him there. “I believe you’re doing what you can, Chief. I’d like to suggest we begin thinking of ways to rebuild the museum. If we really want to do something for Max, it seems like that would be what he’d want.”

  Everyone seemed to agree with his idea. Kevin offered to let the town use free space he had at the Blue Whale to store donations for the new museum. Vergie Smith, Duck’s postmaster, volunteered to collect donations to be used for a new building that would house the artifacts.

  We all agreed to hold a memorial for Max at a time and date to be announced. I called the meeting to an end, and people began to leave, slowly since they had plenty to say to their neighbors and wanted to wish Agnes well.

  Everyone seemed in better spirits now that there was something concrete and positive to do rather than just waiting to hear what was going on in the investigation. People always feel better when they have a plan of action. I thought the chief had done a good job of dispelling the pirate-ghost theory and I told him so.

  “Thanks, ma’am. But you know there’ll be somebody who brings it up again. I think it’s easier for folks around here to accept that ghosts are responsible than it is for them to accept that a real person could’ve done this. By the way, I got an interesting call from Chief Peabody out in Corolla today. Seems he thinks you and Brickman were down there snooping around. Were you looking for Sam?”

  “Something’s happened,” I confessed a little. “We didn’t find Sam, but we found a scooter he rented to go out and see the wild horses. He had someone with him when he left on the trip, but there was no sign of either of them near where we found the scooter. I asked Chief Peabody to check it out. He didn’t seem too happy about it.”