by Joyce Lavene
“Drugs. Jewels. Flash drives. There are plenty of things you can hide in a stuffed animal. I’ve seen a lot of things hidden in them.”
“Well, we know she was here.”
“But was she here when Chuck was killed?” Kevin asked.
“I don’t really know if she was with him. I feel fairly sure he was killed at the Harris Teeter and someone tried to get rid of his body in the Atlantic. I didn’t see her in the original vision set off by the medallion. I don’t know where her mother is. All I really have is my vision about Chuck and my dream about someone taking Betsy against her will. And, of course, dead Chuck telling me to help her.”
We’d reached the living room again. Kevin stopped walking. “I think you have enough to bring in the chief, Dae. Looking at this as a professional, I’d want to know where the little girl was in these circumstances, even if she’s with her mother. You should call him.”
I knew he was right. I just wished I had something more definite so we didn’t have to go through the chief’s usual Oh, Dae had a vision kind of thing. It would be nice to justify what I’d seen before the police ripped it apart.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw something move, and went to investigate. I had to navigate through overturned furniture, broken knickknacks and torn-up books to reach the front-door area.
I was pretty sure that whatever had moved wasn’t Betsy—too small. But as I searched through all the debris, I saw a doll that had been dropped by the front door.
I carefully picked up the well-loved doll and realized that this was a key to what had happened. Betsy had been holding it when someone took her away. I dropped it on the floor again before I could feel anything else from it.
What if she’s dead? What if her last memories are imbued in this doll? The idea made my hands tremble and my mind almost numb with fear.
“What’s wrong?” Kevin joined me in the entryway. “What did you find?”
I told him my thoughts. “I’m scared to hold it.” It was blunt and brief but horribly true. I’d seen some terrible things since my original gift had changed and increased.
He put his hands on my shoulders as he leaned in close to me. “I’m here, Dae. I’ll pull you back. I won’t let you go.”
Just for a moment, I had a brief vision of him saying almost the same thing to Ann. They’d been very close as partners. That was how they’d become romantically involved. They’d been with each other all the time.
Kevin was a very supportive person—very hands-on and empathic. Had he been drawn to me because I was gifted like Ann?
I forced myself back to the problem at hand. “I can do this, but thanks for being here.”
“Always.”
There was no hesitation on his part as he said it. I sighed and forced myself again to address the issue I was facing right now.
I started to pick up the doll again when something hissed and bit me. For a minute, I thought it was a snake. Gramps had been bitten by a cottonmouth out in the garage one day. He’d been sick for a while after, but he’d pulled through.
When I looked again, I saw that it wasn’t a snake but a small black kitten with bright green eyes. It was backed into the corner, crouched on part of the doll. That was the movement I’d seen.
“It’s a kitten,” Kevin said. “Poor thing. It’s probably starving and terrified.”
I looked at the tiny but bloody wound it had inflicted on my finger. “I heard they took a cat from here. Probably didn’t realize her kitten was still in the house. We’ll have to get it out of here. I wish I had some gloves. That would make the job a lot easier.”
The kitten kept hissing and snarling, all of its black fur standing on end. I didn’t want to hurt it, but I didn’t want it to hurt me again either.
Kevin came around from the other side with a pillowcase. He managed to sneak up on the kitten while it watched me. He scooped it up neatly into the cloth sack. I could still hear the kitten hissing and see it clawing at the material.
“There you go.”
“Thanks. Don’t tell me the FBI catches wild animals too.”
“When the occasion warrants it,” he replied. “Still want to do your thing?”
I nodded and tried to prepare myself for whatever I might see from the doll. No matter what, it would bring me another step closer to understanding what had happened to Betsy.
I picked the doll up and looked at her pretty china face. She had brown hair and blue eyes like her owner. The resemblance ended there because Betsy’s face had been so vividly alive.
I felt the vision pull me in like a whirlpool until I was under it, inside it.
I couldn’t open my eyes at first—or at least I thought that was the problem. Then I realized that my eyes were open—it was just so dark that I couldn’t see anything. “Betsy?”
“Is someone here?” her tearful voice asked.
“Can you hear me?” I tried again.
“If someone is here,” she cried, “please tell me. I’m very scared. Please don’t leave me here alone anymore.”
I tried again and again to talk with her. It was no use. I couldn’t see her—she couldn’t see or hear me this time.
I tried to pay attention to everything around me. The place smelled of wet sand, and somewhere nearby, water was dripping, but I couldn’t hear anything else. What kind of place could this be that was so dark and silent? It seemed like a tomb. And what kind of horrible person would put a child here?
I came back out of the vision feeling cold and sick. I leaned against Kevin for a long time trying to absorb some of his strength and warmth. “I don’t know anything more than I did a few minutes ago.”
He held me close and whispered, “You have to let this go now. Let’s call Chief Michaels and let him take care of it.”
“He’s not gonna like it.”
“I can’t think who would.”
Chapter 9
I made the call that brought Tim and Chief Michaels to the house on Sand Dollar Lane. Kevin waited with me. We didn’t talk much—just a few comments about the weather and other innocuous topics.
I felt awkward being with him now that we weren’t in the throes of trying to find Betsy. I didn’t know if I should ask after Ann or not. Obviously, he felt the same and didn’t bring her up.
“What’s going on here, Mayor?” Chief Michaels asked in a tired way, as though he was exhausted by the effort of having to ask yet again.
“I had a dream about Betsy Sparks. I went to Duck Elementary and then came here looking for her.” I tried to stay on a narrow path of explanation. He didn’t like the funny stuff, as he called my visions. I told him about the place I’d seen Betsy when I’d held her doll.
“Betsy Sparks? His daughter?” He rocked back on his heels. “Are you sure?”
“She’s his daughter. I think she’s about six years old. Her mother might have dropped her off with Chuck.”
I explained what I believed to be true—that someone had murdered Chuck and possibly taken Betsy with them. I told him that she’d been absent from school and that Chuck had recently come to have custody of her. “I don’t know who or where her mother is.”
“That’s super amazing!” Tim said. “Dae, you can see anything.”
“Easy with the flirting, Officer Mabry,” the chief reprimanded. “Is a dream the same thing as the vision you had about Derek Johnson? Because if so, I gotta tell you that it’s not much help. As far as we can tell, Johnson is a two-bit errand boy for some high-powered folks on the mainland. They come down here, get all liquored up and do some things they regret later. I have a feeling that’s what happened to Chuck.”
“The house was a mess when we got in here,” Kevin added with the smooth, no-nonsense tone of a professional. “You can clearly see someone was looking around. It must have been after your men checked it. Something is up here, Ronnie.”
“You could just find out if Betsy is with her mother,” I suggested. “Principal Connor didn’t seem to know much about
the mother, but I’ll bet you can find out about her. Then we’d know if she’d been kidnapped.”
Chief Michaels glared at me. “I didn’t realize there was a child involved, Mayor. Now that we think there might be, we’ll do whatever needs to be done to ensure her safety. Believe me, we will take this very seriously. You can go home and rest assured that we won’t need you to break into any other residences. You know people pay our salary to keep those things from happening.”
“I’m afraid that was my fault, Chief Michaels,” Kevin cut in. “I was riding by and stopped to see what was going on. I tripped on the back step and fell into the door, which opened. I’ll be glad to pay for any damages. But I think you’ve got bigger problems on your hands.”
Chief Michaels looked at me, then studied Kevin. “No, sir. I think you’ve got bigger problems, Brickman. And I hope you didn’t hurt your shoulder falling into the door.”
“Thanks, Chief.” Kevin smiled. “I hope all of it works out.”
I stormed out of the house, angry to be excluded from the investigation. I tried to remind myself that what mattered was that the police were looking for Betsy. I couldn’t do it by myself. Chief Michaels would do a good job, like he always did.
But he hadn’t seen Betsy as I had, desperately fighting off some invisible abductor. He hadn’t heard her voice echoing in the dark hell where they were keeping her. That was all on me. I was frustrated at not being allowed an active part in the search. I wanted to find Betsy now.
Maybe Shayla had been right about my emotions working overtime. Maybe the best thing was to go back to the shop and do what I was supposed to do.
“Dae?” Kevin caught up with me. “What do you want me to do with the kitten?”
He was still holding the flowered pillowcase. “Maybe you could use him at the Blue Whale to catch mice,” I suggested.
“You know I’ve already got three cats that you ‘rescued’ for me. I don’t think I need any more right now. What about you?”
“I’ve never had a cat.” I considered the idea. “I don’t think he liked me.”
“You could bring him to the animal shelter.”
I didn’t like that idea very much either. “I’ll see if I can find someone else to take him,” I said, gently taking the pillowcase. “Thanks again, Kevin.”
“Sure. I’ll let you know if I hear anything else about the girl. I hope you’ll do the same for me.”
“You know I will.” There it was again—that terrible awkwardness. We were both going to live in Duck. We’d have to get over it.
I smiled, my real feelings hidden behind it, and put out my free hand. “You’ve been a real help to the people of Duck, Kevin. Thanks for everything.”
He hesitantly shook my hand, his much warmer fingers closing around mine. But I think he understood. “You’re very welcome. I was glad to do it.”
We parted ways—no long post-mission wrap-up over coffee at Missing Pieces or lasagna at the Blue Whale. It was sad, but things changed.
I went back to the boardwalk and stopped at town hall. Nancy helped me find a box that the kitten couldn’t jump out of. I watched him for a while when I got to Missing Pieces as he tried his best to get out.
“You know I’m not feeling very friendly toward you right now,” I told it. “You bit me really hard. That wasn’t very nice, since I’m only trying to help Betsy.”
I called around to find out what had happened to the other cat that had been taken from Chuck’s house by the police. No one seemed to know. I asked Tim to check on it.
A customer came in to ask about the Christopher Haun lead-glazed pitcher displayed in the shop window. “What an interesting piece! What do you know about it?”
I ignored the kitten while I talked to the white-haired woman, who was dressed casually but carried an expensive purse. “Christopher Haun did only a few pieces with this unusual compass star and a handle. He was a Union sympathizer from Greenville, Tennessee, who was hanged by the Confederacy in 1861.”
“Oh my!” The woman looked uncomfortable at my description. Of course, she couldn’t know how lucky she was not to have lived through Haun’s experience herself, as I had the first time I’d touched the pitcher. “I don’t think I want anything with that kind of dark history. What about these baskets?”
I explained about the sweetgrass baskets made by a woman I’d met who lived in Nags Head. “She was brought up making them, taught by her mother and grandmother. They’re an exclusive design made only by members of her family.”
She sneaked a peek at the baskets, probably looking for a price tag, but I never tagged items. “What do you want for them?”
I named my price. The woman was surprised but not in a good way. “I never expected such eclectic pieces—or such high prices in a shop way out here.”
I smiled and watched her leave Missing Pieces. “I guess it was too much for her,” I told the kitten. “She’s not the right buyer. Wait and see. Someone will come in who doesn’t mind that Christopher Haun was hanged or that sweetgrass is expensive.”
I realized I was talking to the kitten again and went to put on the kettle and make some tea. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do with the little animal. I didn’t feel comfortable leaving him at the shop, but Gramps had never been a pet person.
The kitten meowed and kept circling the bottom of the box.
“You know, I bet you’re hungry. You haven’t had a mommy to feed you in a while. Let me see what I can find.”
I closed the shop for a minute and walked down to Wild Stallions. Cody Baucom, one of the owners, was wiping water spots off of glasses. “I have a little fish he could have. And some milk,” he offered. “Careful on the milk, though—it can make cats sick.”
“Thanks for your help. I don’t want him to starve while I try and find his mother.”
He laughed. “He’s not that young—must have teeth if he bit you, Dae. You don’t have to worry about him. He’ll eat when he’s ready, when he trusts you.”
I asked him if he’d like to take care of the kitten for a while, since he obviously had experience. He said he had three cats at home already. He wasn’t open to taking this one.
I went back to the shop to feed the kitten and found the door open. It wasn’t that unusual, since Gramps had a key and a habit of dropping in unexpectedly. It could be him.
Recent circumstances had made me a little less trusting, however. I picked up one of the small flowerpots from the boardwalk. I wasn’t sure what kind of weapon it would make, but I felt somewhat safer holding it.
The shop seemed empty. The kitten was meowing like crazy but still in the box. I found a chipped saucer and put some milk into it.
“You like cats?”
I jumped, dropping the saucer and milk as well as the flowerpot. Everything crashed at my feet, milk flying on me and the box.
It was Ann. This was a moment I’d been expecting—and dreading. I knew she’d want to talk to me because I wanted to talk to her. Maybe “wanting” was the wrong verb. I felt like I should talk to her.
“No. Not really. Well, I don’t know. I’ve never had a cat. Or a dog for that matter. I lived with my grandfather when I was growing up and he didn’t care for pets.” I was babbling, but I couldn’t seem to stop.
“I was raised by a father in the Army. He never wanted to have pets either. Less to move around, I think.”
Ann reached her hand into the box with the kitten before I could stop her. The kitten bit her too. She sucked on the little spot of blood that appeared. “Maybe this one needs to be put down.”
At least it’s not just me. “I don’t think so. He’s just scared and alone. He needs his mother.”
“You talk to animals?” Ann sat back on her feet. “Kevin told me you were gifted. I’ve known others who did.”
“No. I don’t do that. At least not right now. It’s always possible, I guess.”
The kettle began to whistle. I switched off the hot plate and offered her a cup of tea.
“I have Earl Grey, chamomile and peppermint.”
“I’ll have some chamomile, I think. Thank you.”
She looked around the shop as I worked, then went to sit on the burgundy brocade sofa. I was nervous with her there. She seemed to be watching everything I did. I spilled some water, which hissed on the hot plate, and burned my finger. If I was trying to impress her, I was failing miserably.
“This is a wonderful place.” Ann looked around at all my treasures. “I can see why you’d be happy here.”
Her smile—her whole face—was filled with deep sadness. It created hollows in her high cheekbones and furrows in her brow. The world had not been kind to this woman. I knew some pretty tragic things about her, but there was still so much Kevin hadn’t told me.
Has he told her everything about me?
“Thanks. I love it here. Do you find things too?” I asked.
“No. Well, not like this. Not since I was a child. My gift changed as I got older. It became more precise. That’s how I got recruited into the FBI in college. I wanted to use my gift to help someone besides myself.”
I felt very useless and selfish as I handed her a cup of tea. She was right. When I was younger, I’d thought about going out into the larger world and using my gift to really help people, but those thoughts had died away when I left college. I’d never even tried to control my gift or hone it. People in Duck had always been happy about it. That had been good enough for me.
“Everyone is different.” She thanked me for the tea. “I didn’t mean your gift is less important. You found the dead man. It’s possible your gift is still maturing, Dae.”
I sat at the other end of the sofa and studied her. She reminded me of a piece of driftwood that had been scoured by the wind and the sea. She seemed scrubbed clean of any emotion. Her eyes were flat and dull. I’d been careful not to touch her hand as I’d given her the tea. I didn’t want to know the stories behind her eyes.
We were nothing alike except for the gifts we shared. And Kevin.
Kevin had been her salvation, a shining light in her dark world. Finding him again was the only thing that had kept her alive.