A Watery Death (A Missing Pieces Mystery Book 7)

by Joyce Lavene

  And then it was gone.

  Mrs. McGee apologized and took the horn from Travis but not until a shiver of warning had rippled through me.

  Chapter Two

  “So you think he called the seafolk to shore?” Kevin chuckled after we’d ordered lunch at Wild Stallions. The restaurant was a short walk from Missing Pieces along the boardwalk past Duck General Store and Mrs. Roberts’ Pet Emporium.

  “I felt something when he blew it.” I took a sip of water. “I hope it wasn’t anything bad.”

  “I don’t think there are any seafolk out there,” Kevin said. “It’s a good story, but no one has ever really seen a mermaid.”

  Kevin Brickman was a wonderful man who I loved deeply. He understood my gift, sometimes better than I did since he’d worked with psychics during his time with the FBI. He was open to almost anything that involved abilities the mind could produce—but he was a little light on folklore.

  “We’ve had several sightings of seafolk in Duck history,” I told him. “I think I remember even seeing a sketch of a mermaid at the historic museum.”

  I looked into his ocean-colored eyes, more gray than blue. His mouth still had the hard lines I’d first noticed about him. But time in Duck as the owner of the Blue Whale Inn had softened him. The trace of sadness that had haunted him, causing him to leave the FBI, was gone. It was replaced by a tan and strong smile lines. He was tall and fit from working on the maintenance of the old inn that had become very popular again since he’d reopened it.

  “There are also drawings of sea serpents at the museum,” he said with a smile. “I wouldn’t put much stock in those renderings either.”

  “There is more in heaven and earth, Horatio,” I quoted.

  Our wine and glasses of ice water arrived, and the debate ended as Kevin changed the subject.

  “Have you given any thought to our engagement party?” he asked. “I’m only asking because everyone keeps asking me.”

  “I’ve thought about it.” I sipped my wine. “The problem is that Trudy and Tim are getting married in September. You know how everyone in Duck has thrown a party for them. I’m so busy trying to get everything set up for her wedding. I just don’t want to step on her big moment.”

  He nodded. “That makes sense. I’ll tell anyone who asks that we’re being polite about our engagement so Trudy and Tim have a good wedding.”

  “Are you okay with that?” I touched his hand.

  “I suppose I have to be, right?” He took my hand in his. “What do you pick up from me?”

  I closed my eyes and aligned my thoughts with his. “I see that you have a big order of shrimp coming from Charleston today.”

  Kevin laughed. “Good to know you can’t see everything about me.”

  I laughed too, as lunch arrived.

  It was surprising how easy it had become to know what was going on with people around me, especially those I knew well. When I was a child, I had learned quickly that I could hold someone’s hand to find missing items they were looking for. Gramps and my mother had encouraged me.

  They knew all the good things my grandmother, Eleanore, had done with her gift. But she’d died before I was born—or at least that was what I’d been told.

  The more I used my gift, the stronger it became. Now I could see other things about the people I chose to read. I could also pick up items and know everything about them.

  Sometimes what I saw in people and their belongings wasn’t pleasant. On the other hand, I had helped people. I still thought of my gift as the ability to find missing pieces—just like the shop. The hard part was finding the right place for each piece.

  I’d seen something else when I held Kevin’s hand.

  He was upset about not being able to share our relationship with his family. He was thinking about his parents and brother who lived in Maryland. They hadn’t come to visit him yet and seen the remarkable things he’d done with the old inn.

  Kevin wanted them to meet me too. I knew he wasn’t close to his family. He rarely spoke of them and hadn’t seen them for years.

  We didn’t talk about that. I didn’t want him to feel like he couldn’t keep something from me. Instead, we talked about the parade the next day, and the renovation of my heavy, old-fashioned mayor’s coat.

  “I’m sure if Darcy has taken off about fifty pounds on that coat, it will fit you right,” he said.

  “It wasn’t made for me. I’m sure Mad Dog had it made for him since he expected to be the first mayor of Duck after incorporation.”

  He touched a strand of my sun-bleached brown hair. It was always a bit windblown, no matter how hard I tried to keep it neat.

  “Why wasn’t Mad Dog the first mayor? I know the town appointed you. Why didn’t they pick him?”

  I shrugged. “Gramps was sheriff back then. He had a big reputation and had worked hard to bring about the town’s incorporation to fight off the big hotel that had wanted to build on the Currituck Sound. He has at least as many friends as Mad Dog. Gramps wanted me to be the first mayor. I guess that’s why they picked me.”

  Mad Dog was Randal ‘Mad Dog’ Wilson. He was from one of the founding families of Duck, just like my family, the O’Donnells.

  He was a mountain of a man—tall and broad—who was used to getting his own way. He had once been a popular race car driver and had spent several years on the town council.

  He’d run against me for the mayor’s spot last year and lost. That meant he’d lost his seat on the council too and had subsided to simply being a problem about everything that went on in town.

  “Well even if the mayor’s coat seems too big for you, sweetheart, the job fits you well. I can’t imagine a better official for this town.” Kevin smiled and lightly kissed me.

  “Thanks. You know I love my work, and getting that salary is nice too.”

  The town council had voted to give me a small salary now. It wasn’t enough to live on, but it was enough to help me through the lean months over the winter when the shop didn’t make much money.

  “Of course it was decent of them to give themselves salaries too.”

  I didn’t comment on that. The town had the money for it. The salaries weren’t huge. I didn’t feel bad about it, though it had been controversial.

  Lunch was delicious, as always. Cody Baucum stopped by our table to ask how everything was. He and his brother, Reese, owned Wild Stallions. Reese and Cody were similar in appearance—medium height and build, sandy brown hair and brown eyes. Some people had a hard time telling them apart even though they weren’t twins.

  Cody had become a town council member during the last election. He’d had dozens of great ideas so far. I believed he’d be a huge asset to Duck as we continued to grow. It was good to have someone under fifty on the council besides me.

  “I don’t know about you, but I’m not looking forward to the council meeting tonight.” Cody refilled our water glasses. “Mad Dog and a few other people are bringing a petition to close down the gambling ship.”

  “You’re kidding. I thought we were over that and everyone loved having the extra money it brings in in.”

  He shrugged. “I’m sure merchants like it. I like it. How about you, Kevin?”

  “What’s not to like? The Blue Whale Inn is always full. That’s good for me.”

  “It’s the extra traffic on the roads,” I explained. “Everyone has been at Missing Pieces complaining about it. There’s also the problem with extra criminal activity, just like Sheriff Riley warned. Residents don’t like it.”

  Cody agreed. “Chief Michaels said he arrested twenty shoplifters last month. That’s a record for us, even over the summer. He and Sheriff Riley are behind Mad Dog on getting rid of the gambling ship.”

  “It should be an interesting conversation,” Kevin said. “In my experience, it’s not easy to get rid of something you’ve already allowed.”

  I knew Kevin was right. The nervous council members had discussed it. It might only be people who lived
here full-time who didn’t like the gambling ship, but they were the people who voted.

  Cody said he’d see us later and headed toward the kitchen.

  “So when is the next wedding party?” Kevin asked. “We’re not hosting it at the Blue Whale.”

  “That’s because it’s at Trudy’s grandmother’s house in Kill Devil Hills. I think the one after that is at her aunt’s house.”

  “And when is our first engagement party?”

  “Right after Trudy leaves on her honeymoon.” I smiled at him as I got my things together to leave. “Do you want to host it at the inn?”

  Kevin got his credit card back from the cashier, and we left Wild Stallions.

  “That’s fine.” He took me in his arms as we stepped out on the boardwalk. There was a small, secluded corner beside the restaurant locally known as Lover’s Nook. “And when are you moving in with me?”

  He kissed me, and I waved to several Duck residents who laughed at us hiding in Lover’s Nook like a couple of teenagers.

  “After the wedding?” I wasn’t quite sure about that part.

  I wanted to marry Kevin, but I felt bad leaving Gramps alone at the house. I knew he could take care of himself, but he’d never lived alone. He was born and raised there. My mother hadn’t left home when she’d found out she was pregnant with me. Then my grandmother died, and my mom and I lived there with him. Now there was only him and me.

  “I don’t have to be gifted to know that you’re not telling me everything,” Kevin half joked. “What’s wrong, Dae?”

  “It’s nothing,” I told him with a big kiss. “I should get back to the shop. This is my biggest weekend, you know. I don’t want to miss an important sale.”

  Kevin walked back to Missing Pieces with me but didn’t bring up anything else about us getting married or moving in together. I was glad, since I had no ready answers to why I was troubled about leaving Gramps.

  It was probably just pre-wedding jitters. Trudy had been worried about all kinds of crazy things while we’d been planning her wedding.

  We parted with another kiss and a long hug at the open door, until a customer brushed by us and went into the shop.

  “I’ll see you later. I love you, Dae.”

  “I love you too, Kevin.” I watched him walk down the boardwalk, troubled by our conversation and something more. I could feel a prickling of something about to happen between my shoulder blades.

  It was hot, and the air-conditioning was on, but I wished I could leave the door open as I did spring, fall, and winter. The breezes from the sound were always pleasant, but the back of the shop got hot and humid if the door stayed open too long. Most customers didn’t like lingering to look things over in that kind of environment.

  A few customers came and went in quick succession. I was alone again and sorry that I’d sent Kevin away. Maybe we could’ve talked out the problem about the wedding. There might be an answer that I wasn’t seeing about Gramps. But I knew Kevin was busy at the inn too. We’d talk later.

  Since I wasn’t busy, I lifted the coral horn that I’d stashed in the locked glass case until I could put it away. I didn’t want any other children, or adults for that matter, blowing into it again.

  I realized where that odd feeling had begun—the horn. I also hadn’t put on my gloves to handle it. Big mistake as the memories and feelings trapped in it hit me like a tidal wave.

  Deep in the deepest parts of the sea. Swimming through the cool water.

  Her heart belonged only to one man. Where was he? Why didn’t he call her?

  She was so alone. There were many others of her kind, but her mind saw only him.

  If she could find him again, she would never let him go.

  “Excuse me, miss?” An older gentleman was staring at me. He held a pirate carving in his hand. “Are you all right? Could I get a price on this?”

  I shook myself out of the place I had gone.

  A mermaid’s heart.

  “I’m sorry.” I staggered and slurred my words like a drunken woman. “Of course. That’s a carving of our most famous pirate, Rafe Masterson, Scourge of Duck.” I named a price.

  The man in the green-checkered shorts whistled and hastily put the figure down. “Too high for me. Thanks.”

  Sinking down on the stool behind the cash register and case, I took a few deep breaths. I could feel every beat of the mermaid’s heart. Her sorrow was terrible. I could see the water around her, the sunlit ocean with thousands of fish swimming through it.

  I flexed my feet, still feeling her tail.

  Quickly, I put on my gloves and got the velvet bag to put the horn away. It was real. There were seafolk, just as the legends had claimed.

  While I was letting that sink in, something hit the floor—keys—a house key and a car key.

  Captain Lucky’s keys?

  They had to be. I knew he lived on the ship. Maybe it was the key to his stateroom and his car.

  Everyone in Duck had Captain Lucky’s cell phone number. I looked up his cell number in my phone and gave him a call. No answer. The phone rang until it finally went to voicemail.

  I tried texting him, but there was no response to that either. I looked at the time. He must not have noticed that he’d left his keys. He’d probably come here in the ship’s golf cart or walked. That was how most people in Duck traveled.

  He’d said he was leaving. I drummed my fingers on the glass cabinet. He’d probably need his keys. Whatever he was trying to get away from hadn’t sounded like it could wait. I knew I’d have to take his keys to him.

  Gramps arrived at just the right moment.

  “Hi, honey. Just stopping to let you know I won’t be home for supper. I’ve got a hot charter in thirty minutes. Should be good money to put into the fund for repairing the back porch.”

  My grandfather, Horace O’Donnell, owned a charter fishing boat. He took tourists out on expeditions in the sound almost every day, except Sunday. It was a far cry from his previous job as Dare County Sheriff, but I was glad he’d decided to retire. Being sheriff had taken its toll on him. I could see it in his faded blue eyes and thinning white hair.

  Now instead of wearing his brown sheriff’s hat, he wore a green fisherman’s cap with hooks caught in it. He usually wore a red rag around his neck, brown shorts with dozens of pockets, and a brown T-shirt that advertised for his charter service.

  “You’re a life saver.” I picked up Captain Lucky’s keys as I put the horn away again. “I have to run these over to the Andalusia. Can you watch the shop for me? Is the golf cart in the parking lot?”

  “Sure.” He didn’t sound sure. “I could just take them over there for you.”

  “You could,” I agreed. “But I don’t want Captain Lucky to think I told everyone about his keys and our business together. You know how it is.”

  Everyone who had ever lived in Duck knew that it was a hive of gossip. Sometimes it could be hurtful. Captain Lucky might be down on his luck. Everyone didn’t need to know.

  “Okay. You’re right. But what do I say when people ask where you are?”

  “Make something up,” I told him.

  “You know I’m the world’s worst liar, Dae. Tell me what to say.”

  I thought a minute. “Tell them I had to go help Kevin with some shrimp. I’ll be back before you know it.”

  Gramps scratched his head. “Just don’t make me late for my charter.”

  Several customers streamed through the door. It was all I could do not to go back and take care of them. But Gramps knew what to do. He’d substituted for me plenty of times.

  I left the boardwalk quickly, pleased to see plenty of cars parked in the lot behind the shops. There was a full crowd at the coffeehouse and bookstore in the parking lot too. It was great to have thousands of tourists show up for our Fourth of July celebration.

  Gramps’s golf cart was parked close to the stairs. There wasn’t any designated parking for golf carts, even though there were probably more golf carts
in Duck than cars. Dozens were jammed together in a knot that was going to make it difficult to get out for the two carts at the center of it.

  Of course it was easy to find Gramps’s cart because it wasn’t one of the plain, open ones. His had a roof on it and sides that could be closed in case of rain. It was also squarely parked in an open parking space—taking up one of the limited spaces for cars—no doubt an issue that would be brought before the town council at some point.

  I got in and started it up. There were several unhappy frowns from car drivers who didn’t like golf carts taking their spaces. I waved and pulled out quickly. Everyone had a right to a safe place to park as far as I was concerned.

  Duck Road separated the Shoppes on the Boardwalk from the road that ran to the Atlantic Ocean on the other side of town. The road dead-ended at the Blue Whale Inn and the house that had been donated for the Duck Historical Society by Miss Elizabeth Simpson.

  There were hundreds of people in bathing suits and shorts walking the main roads. Traffic was snarled as always on the barely two-lane streets that ran through town. I had to wait ten minutes to get across and then had to zigzag through the walkers and runners.

  This was peak season for us—which meant very few vacancies in vacation home rentals. In the other three seasons, this road would be empty most of the time. Even the gambling ship hadn’t come close to bringing in as many people as hot summer days and the promise of a golden beach.

  Kevin waved as I passed the loading area behind the Blue Whale. I’d helped him paint the old inn when he’d first arrived. He’d done significant upgrades to the three-story building that had stood empty for a generation. Now it was popular with visitors and people in town again. Kevin had put in a gorgeous arbor by the sea where Trudy and Tim were going to be married.

  I could see the tall masts of the Andalusia II long before I reached the impressive pier and waiting area a few blocks down from the Blue Whale. The company had gone to great expense to accommodate gamblers who came from all over the world.

  The waiting spot was a quaint tavern that was designed to resemble something from the 1600s, only with air conditioning, heat, and Wi-Fi. There were snacks and drinks available with an entire wall of glass to get a good view of the ocean and the magnificent ship. The pier went out seven-hundred feet into the gray/blue water. The ship was berthed here between journeys out to the legal limit where guests could gamble.