A Spirited Gift mpm-3

by Joyce Lavene

  I made a list of all the possible breakfast foods Kevin had on hand. I couldn’t believe how much food he had stored. With these provisions, he could probably feed everyone at the hotel for at least the next few days. Of course, the town would have to help him financially. It would be the least we could do for eating all of his food.

  I had games arranged for the older children who were still awake. There was always something on hand for Kevin’s guests. It wasn’t too long before there was a large, noisy game of Monopoly going on around the big table in the lobby. Adults picked up some cards, and a few played checkers.

  I knew everyone was waiting for daylight—like I was. We all wanted a chance to really see the damage, and hopefully the power would be restored by then. We were all anxious to hear the news about our homes and the towns around us. Television, radio and the Internet were still silent when we needed them the most. Civilization could be stripped away very quickly.

  I remembered my good friend, Max Caudle, who knew everything about Duck history. He always said it was a miracle that anyone decided to stay here long enough to build homes and lives. Even things that seemed stable could be swept away by the sea and the wind. Yet, here we were—descendants of those people who lived here four hundred years ago.

  It was cheating, I know, but I changed back into my shirt and jeans. Everyone else was stuck in their slightly damp evening wear, since Scott said they shouldn’t go back upstairs. My clothes were dry, and I was planning on doing some heavy cooking shortly. It seemed like I deserved this little accommodation.

  My new dress was bedraggled and had a few pulled places along the hem where I’d walked through the water in the ballroom. There was also every possibility that the white stain on one side was bird poop. The birds I’d shooed out the windows had apparently gotten their revenge. I put the dress in a plastic bag and planned to visit the dry cleaners when they opened up again—whenever that was.

  I took off my wet shoes—they were ruined, no help there. The shoes I’d worn over from Shayla’s were soaking too. The tennis shoes I’d left here last week when I was helping Kevin move some furniture were dry. They felt good on my cold feet.

  The bridal suite was untouched by any of the events of the long night. How quickly things could change! When I’d left here last night, I was worried about my speech. Now I was worried about feeding an army and finding out if the people I cared about were all right.

  Something caught my eye as I glanced up after transferring the key chain to the pocket of my jeans. It seemed to be a mote of light, but from where? The only light source was my flashlight (no emergency lighting here), and it was pointed in the opposite direction.

  I watched the light drift across the room—like the spirit balls, but much smaller. This was only a pinpoint, like a twinkle from a diamond ring in the sun.

  The light turned and began to come toward me. I swallowed hard and glanced away—

  If I looked back maybe it would be gone.

  No such luck.

  I couldn’t move, couldn’t think, swallow or breathe for a moment as I watched it come closer. My gaze was glued to it—I fought to do something. I didn’t know if I wanted to be there when it finally reached me.

  Then I did something I never thought I’d do in these circumstances—circumstances I’d waited my whole life for—I ran out of the room and slammed the door behind me.

  I forgot the flashlight. I didn’t care. I didn’t stop running until I reached the kitchen where everyone was busy working.

  “Is everything okay, Dae?” Marissa asked, her hands full of clean dishes.

  “Fine,” I answered quickly. “Everything is fine.”

  I couldn’t believe that I had gotten cold feet. Since my mother died, seeing ghosts had become almost an obsession for me. Or I guess seeing her ghost had anyway. I didn’t know if I wanted to see every ghost on the island. But I realized one might come with the other.

  It had been a long night. I made excuses for my cowardice as I took out several pans to start making breakfast. I was exhausted and stressed about finding Sandi. If I’d been my normal self, I would’ve waited to see what that light brought to me. I hadn’t run out of the room when Shayla and I saw the spirit balls after the séance.

  Of course, I hadn’t been alone in a dark room either. That probably made a difference.

  I put butter in two frying pans and began cracking eggs into a bowl. Scrambled eggs and toast would have to do for the crowd I’d be feeding. I could also start some grits and oatmeal in case we needed more than that or someone was allergic to eggs.

  I put on some coffee and took all the juice out of the refrigerator. After this meal, there wouldn’t be much fresh food left, but there was plenty of canned and frozen food to fall back on. I couldn’t even begin to guess when we’d be able to leave the inn.

  “We’re done with the dishes,” Marissa said, wiping her hands on a towel. “I wish there were paper plates to use for breakfast. I’ve always hated washing dishes. Do you need some help over here?”

  “Maybe you could look around and find a breadlike substance for toast.” I stirred oatmeal into boiling water. “I’m sorry I got you into this. I really appreciate your help.”

  “It’s starting to get light outside.” She glanced out of the window at the back of the kitchen. “I’d really like to call my grandfather and make sure he’s okay. He’s not good at remembering to take his meds. I know everyone would like to go home so we can see what’s going on.”

  “I know what you mean. But I think we should stay put until we get the all-clear. Officer Randall said it’s bad out there.”

  “I know.” She sighed. “But how bad? I know I haven’t lived here all of my life, but I can take it. I can walk around a car in the road.”

  “You know it’s not just debris. There are power lines on the ground, ruptured mains of one kind or another. Dangerous stuff. That’s why they try to keep people off the streets after a big storm.”

  “I know.” She absently stirred the grits that was beginning to bubble in the pot. “I know.”

  When the meal was finally put together—buffet style, like earlier—everyone hurried to eat. Watery sunlight was calling us all outside, and no one would be happy staying in playing games now.

  Many of the men wanted to volunteer their assistance in the cleanup. The women too, for that matter, although most of them were more concerned with what had happened to their families and homes. After that, they’d be ready to help out the town. I couldn’t blame them and I knew I couldn’t stop them.

  Everyone wolfed down their eggs and grits. Once the food was gone, the front doors were thrown open and everyone rushed outside into the cool morning air.

  It was like walking out into a massive, open-air flea market where anything and everything was available—except you might have to climb up a tree for your kitchen table or get some help flipping your car upright. I was certain all of this couldn’t have come from Duck. Surely some of the items had blown here from Corolla, Southern Shores and Kill Devil Hills.

  Once everyone got over the first glimpse of what the storm had done, anyone who had a car at the inn rushed to see if it was drivable. I cautioned them that they couldn’t drive down the streets. I wasn’t surprised that no one listened.

  I found my little golf cart. It was about two hundred yards away from the hitching post where I’d left it. There was a recliner in it that pretty much made it worthless, since there was no way to reach the controls.

  For once, I abdicated my position as mayor. I couldn’t force all those mayors and their families to stay—I wouldn’t want to anyway. I heard some of their cars starting and knew they would take their chances on the roads, trying to get back home. I’d probably walk home once I got the inn straightened up. It was human nature to want to protect our own.

  I heard a whining sound coming from the back of the inn. Worried about the generator giving out or running out of gas, I walked around the structure, picking my way thro
ugh clothes, furniture and other storm-tossed rubble.

  I’d spent enough time here that I knew there were two sheds in the back. One of them, obviously the one left standing, was the shed that housed the generator.

  I checked the generator—it was fine. Probably just not used to running for so long. There was plenty of gas in it. Kevin’s freezers were good for a while longer. Maybe he wouldn’t lose everything.

  The other shed was just a place to store tools. Kevin kept his lawnmower and other outside maintenance equipment there. The storm had flattened it—boards and shingles sticking up everywhere.

  I was about to go back inside and begin the cleanup when I saw something protruding from one side of the demolished shed. I walked a little closer, At first, I wasn’t sure what it was on the soggy ground near the collapsed building. But as I looked down at it, I realized there was still a foot in that pink shoe and it was attached to a leg. I dropped down on the saturated ground, trying to catch my breath.

  It seemed I’d finally found Sandi.

  Chapter 8

  I couldn’t bring myself to move. I finally thought—she might still be alive. There was that time a few years back when Mr. Fitzroy was trapped under his house after a storm. He was ninety years old, but he’d survived.

  I knew it was a long shot with the whole shed blown down on top of her, but I couldn’t ignore the chance that I could save Sandi.

  “Dae?” Nancy called from the kitchen door. “What are you doing out here?”

  “I found Sandi,” I called back as I began throwing the boards that covered her. “Help me, Nancy! She might still be alive!”

  “Don’t be daft!” I heard someone say in a very un-Nancy-like voice.

  I looked around, but no one else was near. Nancy was still trying to make her way past all the wood and other items that had blown here to the shed where I was working. It must have been the crashing waves hitting the sand as the water churned and spit only a few hundred yards away. Or the raucous call of the gulls above me.

  “The lass be long past your earthly ministrations,” the voice continued. “Best not bother.”

  Okay. This was too weird. But then the entire night had been one long weird fest. “Who’s there?” I demanded. “You’d better get back inside with your parents instead of out here playing this stupid game!” I decided it had to be one of the kids staying at the hotel. No adult would be so callous.

  “Is she alive?” Nancy asked when she finally reached me.

  “I don’t know,” I answered. “Did you see anyone else when you came out here?”

  “I think everyone else left the inn. I guess they’ll come back for their stuff once they think about it. There might be a few left lingering at the bar. They’ll be lucky if they can walk out here on their own after they’ve been drinking all night.”

  “Did you hear anything?” I asked as we moved the lumber away from Sandi.

  “The ocean,” she replied. “Dae, we have to call someone.”

  “I know. Any ideas? There are no phones—no radios.”

  Officer Randall was obviously born with perfect timing. He came around the side of the Blue Whale and picked up speed when he saw us by the remains of the shed. “I’m calling EMS,” he said after we’d explained to him about Sandi. “I hope they can send someone right away. Things are really backed up.”

  With Scott’s help, we were able to reach Sandi in no time. I knew when I saw her blue-tinged face and white lips that there was no help that could reach her. Scott checked for a pulse, then shook his head.

  “I’m sorry, Mayor O’Donnell. I managed to get in touch with her husband in Manteo. He’s on his way up here anyway.”

  “I hate these storms that come up so fast,” Nancy said, her hands shaking. “Why can’t they give us better warning? You’d think after all these years there’d be a better way.”

  I looked at the generator shed only a few feet from the collapsed shed that had killed Sandi. It was in good shape, not even a board missing. It was amazing how the fury of the storm could pick and choose what it was going to take.

  Kevin had heard the call as well and got back to the hotel a little after EMS workers officially declared Sandi dead. They were putting her body on a stretcher as he ran back to where we were standing. “Can you tell what happened?” he asked the paramedics.

  “The storm must’ve collapsed the shed,” one EMT said. “There’s a lot of tissue damage from the boards and nails. We’ll have to wait for word from the medical examiner. But that’s the way I see it.”

  “What was she doing?” He looked at me and Scott. “Did anyone know she was out here?”

  Scott shrugged. “I don’t know. I got here after Mayor O’Donnell realized she was missing.”

  I quickly explained the night’s events to Kevin, but I had to agree that Sandi being out here in the shed didn’t make any sense—unless my vision of the gun meant someone had forced her out here so the gunshot wouldn’t be heard.

  After the EMS team had left and Scott was busy typing his report into the computer in the police car, I took Kevin aside and told him about the items I’d found at the inn.

  He listened calmly, as he usually did. “So you think this man who was working with her did this?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t see him out here collapsing a shed on top of her. But I did see a gun.”

  “Has anyone searched him for a gun?”

  “We searched his room. At that time, I wasn’t even sure that what I’d seen in my vision was something that had happened recently. I didn’t want to say anything to Scott about it.”

  “Matthew could’ve killed her and put her body in the shed. The storm might have done the rest of the work for him. It was dark when we were in the lobby. He could’ve moved her and no one would’ve known.”

  We were still standing outside the inn, looking at the angry gray ocean as it tried to settle down after the storm. The generator hummed in the shed that was still standing. I thought about the strange voice I’d heard while I was trying to uncover Sandi’s body. I decided not to mention it. It was kind of crazy anyway and nothing to do with what had happened.

  “It was so dark out here when I came out to turn on the generator,” Kevin said. “I never even noticed the garden shed was down.”

  “I guess the ME should be able to tell what happened if they do an autopsy, right?” I asked him.

  “Yes. Scott said her husband is on his way here. Do you want to tell him what you know about what happened?”

  “But not about her affair with her assistant, right? Because I’m not telling Sandi’s husband that his dead wife was cheating on him—even though he probably knows already.”

  “I only asked because you know them. And maybe that would motivate him to demand an autopsy. With everything that happened last night, it would be easy to overlook evidence. I’m sure the medical examiner’s office will have their hands full anyway.”

  I really didn’t want to be the one to tell a grieving husband that his wife was dead, possibly murdered by her lover. I wished someone else could get that job. But Kevin was right. Gramps always said bad news was best gotten from friends instead of law enforcement.

  Kevin and I went inside to take a look at the damage the storm had done to the inn. Scott’s police car was gone from the front, but Barker and David were still holding on to Matthew. The two mayors weren’t so drunk that they didn’t hurriedly hide the scotch bottles they’d emptied during the night when they saw Kevin.

  “I’m surprised you’re still here,” I said to them. “Weren’t you worried about your homes and families?”

  Both the older men shrugged. “Not so much,” David said. “My wife is in Florida with the grandkids this week.”

  “And my wife is busy working on the divorce papers with her lawyer in Raleigh,” Barker explained with a sigh. “If the storm wrecked the house, maybe Loraine won’t want it. I hate living in hotel rooms.”

  Matthew stood up. “I’m getting ou
t of here. You have no right to hold me. I don’t know where Sandi is, but she’s not my responsibility either.”

  “Kevin, this is Sandi’s assistant,” I explained. “Probably the last person to see her alive.”

  “Alive?” Matthew stared at me. “What are you saying? You finally found her?”

  “Yes,” Kevin answered. “EMS took her a few minutes ago. Her husband is on his way. He doesn’t know she’s dead yet. I think you should stay.”

  “No way! He’s not the forgiving type. Sandi said so. And don’t try to make it sound like I had anything to do with killing Sandi.”

  “Who said anyone killed her?” I asked him.

  “I assumed you wouldn’t try to keep me here if you thought it was an accident.”

  “We can all talk about that when Chief Michaels gets here,” I said. “Until then, I think you should stay here as a guest.”

  “You can’t make me,” Matthew charged.

  “Yes she can,” Nancy reminded him as she walked by. “I told you, in the absence of the police chief, the mayor can assume his authority. If she says you stay, you stay. Anyone want some iced tea?”

  Matthew sat down again. He stared out of the window in the bar. He seemed to finally realize that this wasn’t something that would go away quickly.

  I wondered, looking at him, if he was the kind of person who could’ve killed Sandi and tried to cover it up by putting her body in the shed. There was no way to know for sure, but he didn’t seem the type to me.

  Of course my mind jumped ahead to other questions. Why didn’t he walk the extra few hundred yards to the edge of the ocean and dump her in? That was always an easy way to explain any mysterious deaths that happened this close to the water.

  But there had to be other variables too—she looked awfully heavy for his meager frame to carry very far. Maybe he got as far as he could. Maybe he was scared to get that close to the ocean during the storm. I felt sure there was no way anyone could have known that shed would collapse over her.