A Timely Vision mpm-1

by Joyce Lavene

  I glanced at Gramps, who assured me nothing would happen while I was gone. I noticed as I followed the chief out of the room that Gramps and Luke stepped closer to Miss Mildred, who was holding up very well in the face of so much drama.

  In the kitchen again with Miss Elizabeth’s purse still open on the table, Chief Michaels confronted me. “Why’d you have to go and make this so complicated? We both love Millie, but she did something wrong. Maybe she isn’t mentally responsible. She may not even realize she did it. If that’s the case, they’ll find a place for her. Don’t be so stubborn. Let the process work. You’re the mayor. You’re sworn to uphold these laws, Dae. You can’t pick and choose when it’s comfortable for you.”

  I knew he was right. At least the rational part of my brain knew he was right. But after finding Miss Elizabeth, and everything else that had happened, the emotional part of my brain was on overload. “You know her sister didn’t drop off this purse. But you also know Miss Mildred didn’t kill her. You can’t take her in on the strength of that evidence.”

  He drew a deep breath that threatened to burst the buttons on his blue uniform. “What if I told you there was more?”

  I swallowed hard. “More? Like what?”

  “She gave me permission to look around. I think we have the murder weapon. It was out in her garden shed.”

  “That’s not possible.” I sat down. “What makes you think it’s the murder weapon?”

  “It’s a small shovel. There appears to be hair and blood on it.” He put his hand on my shoulder. “We have to take her in, Dae.”

  “Why? She isn’t going anywhere. She’s not a flight risk. Couldn’t she stay here while you continue investigating?”

  “That’s what bail is for. But someone not so involved with her should make that decision. You know if it was up to me, I’d walk away from it. But we can’t do that. I can’t, and neither can you.”

  There was no argument with that logic. “Can you at least not handcuff her? Her wrists are so delicate. I don’t want to think what this will do to her.”

  As compromises went, it was the best we could reach. The chief treated Miss Mildred with dignity and kindness as he led her outside, no cuffs, to the police car. Gramps didn’t ask what changed my mind. Neither did Luke. I assumed Tim or Kevin filled them in while we were in the kitchen.

  Agent Walker and his SBI agents arrived a moment later and took charge of Miss Elizabeth’s purse. They began searching the house and yard (again). There wasn’t anything else I could do. I didn’t want to watch the procedure. Andy promised to lock up the house after they were gone.

  “If she doesn’t have legal representation, I’ll see what I can do,” Luke offered. “It might be strange to be on that side of the courtroom.”

  He didn’t seem as though he thought that would be a good thing, but I took his phone number and thanked him for offering. “What will happen now?”

  “The court will probably set bail for her. I can’t imagine they want to continue this publicity.” Luke nodded toward Jerry and his cameraman as they got in their van to follow Chief Michaels to the police station. “She’ll be evaluated by a doctor to see if she’s fit to stand trial.”

  I thanked him again and smiled. He hugged me awkwardly and promised to keep up with what was happening. It seemed like a strange reaction from a man who looked like an ex-Green Beret. He’d spent his whole life (or, by my best guess, at least the last twenty years—he didn’t appear over fifty) sending the bad guys to jail. You never know how people will react.

  Gramps offered to drive me back to Missing Pieces, but I needed time to walk and think. He drove off with the rest of the fire department. I headed toward the corner without looking back at the SBI agents swarming over Miss Mildred’s house.

  I heard footsteps coming up behind me on the shell and gravel road. I glanced back, saw Kevin and started walking faster.

  He walked faster too. “I’m not the enemy, you know.”

  “No? I guess you were only on his side then.”

  “Chief Michaels isn’t the enemy either. The enemy is whoever did this and set it up to look like Miss Mildred killed her sister.”

  I stopped. The sun was hot overhead even with the constant breeze rushing through the bushes. “You don’t believe Miss Mildred killed her sister?”

  “Of course not. I don’t think the chief does either. But you were both bound to follow the rules. It’s what happens in cases like this.”

  “Cases like this? How many ninety-two-year-old women are arrested for killing their sisters?”

  “You’d be surprised. Maybe even more surprised if you knew how many of them actually did it.”

  I started walking again, maybe a little less angry. At least he seemed to be on my side. “Well, I don’t believe Miss Mildred did anything wrong. But you’re right. I know how the rules work. The chief was already questioning whether Miss Mildred should stay in her house by herself. Now it looks even worse. I don’t want to think what a court-appointed doctor who isn’t from Duck will think.”

  He nodded. “The chief will continue investigating. So will the SBI.”

  “Really? Once they establish that he found the murder weapon on her property and Miss Elizabeth’s purse in her house, that will be the end of the investigation. Chief Michaels already pointed out to me that Miss Mildred wasn’t that upset by her sister’s death when we came to give her the news. Half the town was at the vigil when she said her sister probably didn’t go to heaven because she was evil. I think you could say that’s a slam dunk.”

  He didn’t disagree. I kept wishing he would as we turned to walk down Duck Road toward the shops on the boardwalk. The road was crowded now with tourists driving in convertibles and SUVs. I wished it was winter, for once; have some peace to think.

  “I looked up Wild Johnny Simpson in the hotel directory last night.” He changed the subject. “I found where he checked in on June 7, 1978. It doesn’t show when he checked out.”

  “But it was around that time the old owner, Bunk Whitley, disappeared. Maybe Johnny was killed and the hotel closed so quickly, no one realized.”

  “Maybe. But someone had to put that key in the drawer. Whoever did it probably knew. I handed over the derringer to Agent Walker. I’m sure they’ll check it against the bullet wound in Johnny’s head.”

  We continued walking into the business district of Duck. I had to cross the crowded street to get back to Missing Pieces. I glanced at Kevin, wondering if all of this made more sense to him than to me. “You don’t have to walk me all the way to the shop. I’m okay now. Unlikely to hold off the police, or the SBI, with hostages.”

  “I know. You were doing what you thought was right.”

  “Yeah. I’m lucky they didn’t arrest me for it.”

  He laughed. “You’re right. Of course, you’re the mayor. It wouldn’t look good for the town if that happened.”

  “True. But I won’t push my luck again.”

  “Unless something else happens where you have to stand up for what you think is right. I might know you better than you know yourself.”

  “Quit profiling me!” There was an opening in the constant line of traffic going through town. I smiled and waved at Kevin, then darted across the street. I noticed that he waved back then set out toward the Blue Whale. I also noticed that he was wearing sandals. It made me smile again. Duck relaxation even got to hardened FBI types. Maybe someone could use that for a tourist slogan.

  I unlocked Missing Pieces and turned on the lights. I was only there a few minutes before a crowd of shoppers began surging in. They were mostly looking for bargains and souvenirs. Nothing to threaten my treasures.

  A few hours later, as I was ringing up some Duck T-shirts, Trudy came in from next door. She waited until I was finished with my customer to come behind the counter and take a seat. “I heard about Miss Mildred. It’s awful, Dae. How can they arrest someone that old? I don’t understand why they think she was involved in her sister’s dea
th.”

  I didn’t want to go into the whole thing again. It was a little too fresh and painful to describe to her. “I’m hoping the police realize they’ve made a mistake and let her go back home.”

  “Someone said they saw you and your grandfather down there,” Trudy whispered. “Did you see them take her away?”

  I nodded. “I really don’t want to talk about it right now. It wasn’t exactly the bright spot of my day.”

  “I understand.” She smiled a little and changed the subject. “I hear Shayla is dating that super-gorgeous new guy at the Blue Whale. I got that from her, so I’m trusting it’s true.”

  “It’s true. I went out with them last night.”

  A woman who looked as though she were carrying the weight of the world approached the counter. She had a little girl with her. The woman had a kid-size, blue party dress that had been part of a group of items I’d purchased from one of the local churches. It was left over from a Christmas bazaar. “How much for this one?” she asked.

  I looked at the two of them and knew they couldn’t afford it. No matter what the price was, there was no extra money for this dress. I also knew she wouldn’t let me give it to her. It wasn’t any psychic sense that made me understand. It was a few years of running a thrift store. Those who didn’t need what I had to sell typically came in with a certain look of confidence, even arrogance, on their faces. People like this woman, however, had hopelessness written in their eyes. As mayor, I was well aware that among the well-to-do tourists and comfortable year-round residents, there were people in need living in Duck. I wished I could do more for them.

  “I’m afraid that dress isn’t for sale,” I told her.

  She looked at the little girl and tried to smile. “Oh. Thanks anyway.”

  “Some items I can only barter for. It’s kind of a state law for thrift shops.” Would she believe it?

  She blinked twice and glanced at the girl again. “I don’t think I have anything to barter for it. What did you have in mind?”

  I wasn’t quite sure. It had seemed like a good idea when I’d said it. The girl would get the dress and I would get . . . that’s about where my thoughts ended. Now that I’d made up the bartering fantasy, I wasn’t sure where to go with it.

  “I need someone to go through all those children’s clothes back there. I’ve accumulated too much recently. I need to get rid of some of them. But I don’t know much about children’s clothes. Maybe you could help me with that.”

  The woman grinned. “I’d be glad to. How long would you need me? I have to be at work at the restaurant by six, but I’m off tomorrow. Could I do it then?”

  “That would be fine.” I took out a piece of paper. “And your name?”

  “Anne Maxwell. And this is Ginny. We live in Duck, down toward Southern Shores. Would it be all right if I bring her with me? I don’t have a babysitter during the day.”

  “Sounds fine, Anne.” I reached out my hand to her. “I’m Dae O’Donnell.”

  “The mayor? Or is that your mother?”

  I laughed. “No, that’s me. I guess I don’t photograph very well.”

  “It was probably the black and white,” she suggested. “Anyway, thank you for the opportunity. I’ll see you tomorrow. Say good-bye, Ginny.”

  Ginny, probably five, waved her little hand and smiled to show her missing teeth. She had freckles on her cute little face, and her brown hair hung in baby curls on her shoulder.

  I waved back, smiling, as they left the shop. “State law that makes you barter stuff, huh?” Trudy laughed.

  “Did you see her little face? And how cute were her little hands?”

  “Sounds like you’d like one of your own,” Trudy observed. “I know I would. I don’t know if it’ll ever happen for me. But maybe for you. How many times has Tim proposed?”

  “Too many. Please don’t start sounding like Gramps.” I tucked Anne’s name into the drawer under the register. At least I wouldn’t have to wonder what if, as I did with Brian McDonald, the purse snatcher. “Besides, we’re independent women, right? We’re business owners. Entrepreneurs. Men aren’t necessary for women of the world like us.”

  “I don’t know who you’re talking about, Dae.” Trudy got to her feet and patted an invisible platinum blond hair back into place. “But I’d give up all of this for the right guy.”

  At that moment, Kevin walked into the store with an armload of Blue Whale T-shirts. Trudy and I stared at him for a long moment before we both started laughing. “Should I go out and come back in?” he asked.

  “No.” Trudy smiled at him. “I think you’re perfect right where you are. You’re not married, are you?”

  “No.” He looked at me as if expecting an explanation.

  “Kevin, this is my friend Trudy Devereaux. She runs the Curves and Curls Beauty Spa next door. Trudy, this is Kevin Brickman.”

  “From the Blue Whale Inn, right?” She walked over to him and held out her hand. “Welcome to Duck, Kevin. I do men’s cuts, manicures, and massages too. Stop in sometime.”

  She stood there for a long moment holding his hand and gazing into his eyes. Only a customer trying to get into the shop broke them apart. Trudy smiled apologetically, then went next door.

  “Women are very friendly here.” Kevin watched her go as he held the door for two more customers. “Busy day, huh?”

  “Yeah. I didn’t expect to see you again so soon.”

  “Is that a subtle way of telling me to go away? You did offer to let me put some stuff from the Blue Whale here.”

  I shook my head. I guessed I wasn’t exactly one of those superfriendly women he was getting used to in Duck. “No. I was only surprised you weren’t putting on roofing or something, that’s all.”

  “I would be except that the Blue Whale is pretty much a crime scene and they don’t want me to change anything right now. And it’s almost dinner time, and I can’t get in the kitchen even though nothing happened there. I never realized how annoying it is to have someone murdered in your home.”

  My stomach gurgled as I glanced up at the teapot clock. It was almost seven P.M. I hoped Kevin would be nice enough to ignore that abdominal rumble, but when I turned to face him again, I noticed he was laughing. “What?” I demanded. “I skipped lunch. Coffee only goes so far.”

  “Cranky and noisy. I guess you’d better buy me dinner.”

  “How do you figure that?”

  “I came and rescued you by reminding you it was time to eat. I think that warrants dinner. Any suggestions where we should go?”

  His enthusiasm was contagious. I’d had a good business day, and it wasn’t unusual for Missing Pieces to be closed by now. The rush had kept me from worrying about Miss Mildred. “I’ll tell you the truth, I don’t eat out much. I probably couldn’t recommend a good restaurant. I’m sure they’re all fine, but I prefer my own cooking. You’re welcome to come to supper.”

  “I’d like that. It must be nice to enjoy your own cooking. I don’t know if Chef Boyardee in the microwave qualifies as cooking, but I’m not too crazy about it. I’ve spent most of my life eating in restaurants.”

  “I’ll bet you’ve eaten in some exciting places while you were working for the FBI.”

  “Like every greasy spoon and two-bit diner across the country,” he said. “Working for the FBI sounds a lot more glamorous than it really is.”

  We came to an arrangement for selling the Blue Whale T-shirts, and Kevin put his pamphlets on the corkboard near the door. I did a quick walk through the shop, checking to make sure nothing was missing, left behind, or about to be covered in Coke from a misplaced paper cup. “Still,” I said, picking up the conversation when I was done with my inspection, “it must seem really tame to live in Duck after travelling so much.”

  “It’s quiet,” he agreed. “But that’s what I was looking for.”

  I turned off the lights and locked the door behind us. Shadows were beginning to lengthen on the boardwalk, and the shops around Missin
g Pieces were closing too. The nightlife was beginning for our summer visitors, but for many of the people who lived here, the day was done and it was time to go home.

  We walked down to the house, making small talk about the town and the difference there between summer and winter. “Actually, we call it off-season,” I explained. “We don’t like winter.”

  Kevin stepped away from the road as a car blew its horn, almost grazing his pant leg. “Whatever you call it, I’m looking forward to it. I didn’t realize so many people would be here over the summer. Or in-season. Why don’t you guys put in sidewalks?”

  “Do you know how much they cost? It may look like we’re rich, but we’re not. We are working on sidewalks, though, and some other things.”

  When we got to the house, Mary Lou opened the front door as I reached for the handle. “Dae! Kevin! It’s good to see you. Come in. We’re getting supper ready.”

  This is different. Mary Lou was acting like Gramps’s hostess. “Good to see you too. Where’s my grandfather?”

  “In the back. He’s grilling. I’m in charge of salad. I hope you brought some dessert with you. We ran out of the apple pie I brought before we could eat supper.” Mary Lou laughed and closed the door after us.

  “I could go out and get something,” Kevin offered.

  “That’s okay,” I said. “I’m sure we can find something here.”

  “Dae, I want to talk to you about creating an ordinance to protect the sea turtles.” Mary Lou put her arm around my shoulders as we walked into the kitchen. “People don’t realize how fragile they are as a species. They go down there all times of the day and night, build sand castles. Really, we need an ordinance.”

  “Why is building sand castles bad for the turtles?” Kevin asked.

  I knew what was going to happen, but I wanted to see Gramps without Mary Lou. As soon as Kevin asked, she switched to his side, explaining as she went. “Well, you see, the castles fall in on the baby turtles as they’re trying to reach the sea. Sometimes it smothers them. Sometimes they get trapped there and a predator finds them.”

  I gave Kevin an apologetic look as I left the two of them in the kitchen. A few of Gramps’s friends from his pinochle game were in the living room laughing at something on TV. I closed the back door as I went out and enjoyed the blessed silence for a minute. It had been a long, difficult day. I still felt that terrible guilt about not being able to help Miss Mildred. I knew I had to let it go, but it was hard.