A Spirited Gift mpm-3

by Joyce Lavene

  I went up to the widow’s walk and sat there looking out at the perfect night sky. When I was young, I would’ve gone to Gramps and we could’ve talked about this. But not anymore.

  Not that my innocent gift of helping people find things ever had such serious consequences when I was young. I used to help Miss Elizabeth Simpson find her car keys, which she managed to misplace every week. Or I helped Cailey Fargo find her missing earrings. People in Duck loved my gift and enjoyed using it as much as I did. It was one of the perks of living here, I thought.

  But now life was more complicated. The adult me understood that though Gramps loved me, he’d expect me to use my gift for the betterment of the community—even if there were personal costs. People sacrificed for the greater good sometimes—like his suggestion that I should give up my relationship with Kevin to be mayor again.

  I understood his point of view, although I didn’t necessarily agree with it. Every police officer was willing to sacrifice for the greater good. Many times those sacrifices included their families, marriages, even their lives. Why would Gramps even hesitate to volunteer my services, when it might only make me uncomfortable?

  I knew I couldn’t talk to Shayla or Trudy about this either. Shayla would balance my chakras and tell me to make my own choices. And though Trudy had been my friend since childhood, she’d never been comfortable with my gift. I couldn’t ask her to help me with this.

  “Feels like standing on the bow of my ship,” Rafe said, appearing on the cast-iron rails that surrounded the widow’s walk on the roof. “Aye, you could look out and see forever. That was true freedom—true happiness.”

  “That you lost when the British destroyed your ship.” I was glad to be diverted from worrying about Gramps asking me in the morning to hold the gun.

  “Damn fools!” he yelled, causing some bats to change course. “They thought they’d killed me. They thought they could find my treasure. But I was too smart for them.”

  “So the story I dreamed about you was true. You buried your treasure, killed your sailors and sent that poor cabin boy to swim away from the island. No wonder they called you a scourge.”

  “That was me,” he admitted. “But allow that a man may change. Death and destruction—even plunder—gets old as the bones ache in the night and the body wears. I made my peace with what I’d done. God blessed me with a woman who loved me, despite my sins, and two fine sons. I was happy for a time—at least until the magistrate hanged me.”

  “Rafe—I’m so sorry about Mary and your sons.” I hoped he wasn’t going to break down again as he had during the day. I didn’t think I could hold it together if he did.

  He frowned and took out his cutlass, making some stabs at the night sky. “ ’Twas what I deserved, no doubt. But she deserved better.”

  We didn’t speak for a few long minutes as he walked along the edge of the metal rail around me. Then he said, “You know, you remind me of her.”

  “Me?”

  “Aye. Pluck to the backbone. She never took nothing off of me. Told me what she thought, she did. But with a loving heart and a beautiful smile.”

  “Thank you.” I thought again about the beautiful, sad woman in the mirror who’d tolerated the magistrate’s hand at her breast for the sake of her husband and sons. I didn’t mind the comparison.

  “Don’t let them make you do anything ye don’t want to do,” he spat out. “They need you, my girl. You don’t need them. Make them pay—or tell them to go away.”

  I was amazed at his understanding of the situation without one word of explanation. “How do you know?”

  “Bah! I’m not an imbecile. I know what you can do. I saw the greedy looks on their faces. It doesn’t matter if you’re a pirate or a king. Those looks are on everyone’s faces who want their way. They need yer aid in this investigation. They don’t care about what happens as long as they win the plunder. It’s all the same—my time and yours.”

  He had summed it up remarkably well. I wasn’t sure I could be as fast to turn down what would surely be presented as my duty, but I was glad he comprehended. The two of us up on this lonely rooftop had found a way of understanding each other despite the centuries (and so many other things) between us.

  “I appreciate that. I know you’re right. I don’t know if I can just say no. I want Sandi Foxx’s killer to be found. That might not happen without me.”

  “The hell with that,” he roared. “That girl is dead. Finding her killer won’t bring her back. You think on that, girl. Think about what ye will give up to do this thing. You can only lose so many pieces of yourself before there’s nothing left.”

  And with those pirate words of wisdom, I was alone again.

  He was right about losing myself. It was what I feared most from this part of my gift that took me into other people’s emotions. I could handle most of the day-to-day things—towels manufactured at a sweat shop in China, cars that had been used for smuggling. But things like the perfume bottle, and probably the gun that had killed Sandi, were more difficult. The effects from objects like those were hard to recover from. The strong emotional undercurrents sometimes dragged me down like the cold Atlantic and didn’t want to let go.

  I smiled thinking that Rafe was probably a good source of wisdom when it came to losing pieces of yourself. Wasn’t that what happened to him? Mary and his children had redeemed him, given him a lineage and legacy that he wouldn’t have had if he’d died on his ship at the hands of the British.

  But I wasn’t a pirate, and I’d been brought up with a strong sense of right and wrong, duty and honor. I didn’t know if I could look the other way when the time came.

  I went back down the secret stairs that led from the widow’s walk to my bedroom. Even though I was used to Rafe popping in and out now, I took a step back and gasped as a figure separated itself from the shadows in my room. “Kevin?”

  He put his arms around me and we kissed in the darkness. “I missed you. I don’t ever want to argue with you again.”

  I felt the same, but I wasn’t necessarily ready to let it go. “Is that something like an apology?”

  “It’s whatever you want it to be. Do you feel like walking?”

  Gramps was already in bed—probably having ended the discussion with the sheriff and the chief by volunteering my help with the gun. Kevin and I slipped out the front door without disturbing him and started down the dark, wet street.

  “I know you were supposed to call me,” he began. “But I waited all day and you didn’t call.”

  “I was busy with the Weather Channel thing and everything else.” I told him about what happened at the museum with the perfume bottle. “But I’m sorry I didn’t call. You were right. I should’ve admitted that my father stole from me. I just believe that anyone could be desperate enough to do it.”

  He wrapped his arm around me as we walked down deserted Duck Road toward the center of town. “Maybe I was right—but so were you. That’s one of the reasons I gave up being in the FBI. It does make you see the worst in people. I came to Duck to see the best in people. But old habits die hard. I trust your father because you trust him. Let’s leave it at that unless something else happens. See? I’m learning to have faith.”

  I hugged him hard. “I’m glad.” I admitted to being tired of lying and sneaking around where my father was concerned. “I’m going to talk to Gramps again too. I’m a grown woman. We have to work this out as adults. I’m going to see my father, and I’m going to tell him who I am. I’m sure we’ll all feel better when it’s over.”

  “Good for you!”

  The winds from the ocean and the Currituck Sound were screaming across the open spaces where there were no bushes or buildings to slow them down. We ran through those areas and ended up at the Curbside Bar and Grill. I was surprised to find it open so late.

  But Cole and Molly Black, owners of the grill, were feeding whoever came in for free. The place was packed, of course, but Kevin and I managed to find a corner to drink some
coffee and warm up.

  “This whole thing with Rafe has turned into a bigger deal than I’d thought it would be,” I explained. “That perfume bottle really knocked me over this morning. I’m still amazed at how real those emotions can be.”

  He took my hand, his face unusually serious. “I admit to having another reason for finding you besides apologizing,” he said. “I heard about the pistol this afternoon—and a crazy idea to have you get whatever information you could from holding the gun.”

  I shrugged. “They haven’t asked yet. But I got that drift too.”

  “Dae, don’t do it. The perfume bottle was nothing compared to the emotions of a killer pumped up with rage and jealousy. Not to mention the terror of a person being killed. Please promise me you won’t agree to this.”

  “It sounds even worse when you put it like that,” I joked, but he didn’t return my smile.

  I knew Kevin was overly cautious about these things. He was probably afraid of losing me like he had his FBI partner.

  Not that the idea of losing myself completely wasn’t scary. Holding the perfume bottle almost made me forget who I was and where I belonged. I was so much a part of Mary that I wasn’t me anymore.

  But I had to feel like I could control my gift—not the other way around. Otherwise I’d have to walk through life wearing gloves—literally. That just wasn’t me.

  “You’ve already decided to help your grandfather, haven’t you?” Kevin asked, sitting back in his chair.

  “No! I haven’t decided anything,” I replied. “I’d like to find out who killed Matthew and Sandi. This is my home town. I don’t want to think of it as the murder capitol of the Outer Banks. But I know there are risks. I feel them every day—every time I touch something with an emotional past.”

  “You can’t let them bully you.”

  “I won’t.”

  “They need you—you can call the shots.”

  I grinned. “You sound like Rafe. He was basically giving me the same advice while I was up on the widow’s walk. You know, I don’t think he’s as black as he’s painted. Well, not anymore anyway. He was definitely a scourge when he was younger.”

  “Are you getting to be friends with him?”

  “He’s more like some uncle who was in prison but you think he might have reformed, if that makes sense.”

  “If talking to a ghost makes sense, anything is possible.” He smiled and kissed my hand. “Just be careful, Dae. Ask for help if you need it.”

  “I will. Don’t worry.”

  Before we could say anything else, Cole Black came to the table and asked us for help. “I never expected so many people, Mayor Dae! Think you could give us a hand? Molly has that bad lumbago. I’m worried she might wear herself out.”

  Cole and his wife had retired here a few years back, claiming they were looking for some relaxation—but they worked harder than most people half their ages.

  “Sure!” I agreed. “We’d be glad to help. What do you need?”

  “See those tables over there by the windows? Could you bus all of them and do some dishes?”

  Chapter 40

  “Well, that was interesting,” Kevin said when we were done cleaning up the restaurant. “If I’d known we were going to work in a kitchen, I would’ve stayed home and cleaned mine.”

  I laughed at him and gave him a towel to dry his hands. We’d done several loads of dishes, pots and pans and silverware by hand. “But so many people were fed tonight. Isn’t it wonderful to see everyone pulling together?”

  “Marvelous.” He flicked water at me.

  I snapped my towel at him. Cole and Molly found us horsing around in the kitchen as they got ready to close up.

  “You two remind me of us when we were young,” Cole said with an affectionate smile at his wife.

  “Or that nice young couple who stop in every so often, right?” Molly shook her head. “Not that they were married, we’ve come to find out. I’d hate to live with that kind of guilt. His wife is dead now, you know. That young lady mayor at the Blue Whale. What a shame!”

  “Shawn Foxx?” I asked sharply. “He ate dinner here with someone besides his wife?”

  “Regularly,” Cole confided. “He was here the night of the storm. We didn’t even know that was his name until we saw his picture and heard his wife had been killed. It was a real surprise that the other woman wasn’t his wife. The two seemed very close.”

  “What did his girlfriend look like?” I asked.

  “Kind of tall,” Cole said. “A real looker too.”

  “Never mind him—he thinks everyone looks tall and every woman under thirty is a real looker,” Molly added. “But it seems to me they were about the same height.”

  “Did you ever hear him call her by name?” Kevin questioned.

  “Nope. Like I said—we didn’t even know his name until we saw that his wife had been killed. But they tipped well. I can tell you that,” Molly said. “And always paid with cash.”

  “My favorite people!” Cole smiled.

  “Was she blond? Have you ever seen her around in Duck?” I asked.

  “No, she had long, dark hair,” Cole assured me. “This woman was late twenties, tops. Thin, like a model.”

  “Now that you mention it, Mayor Dae,” Molly added, “I have seen her before. I think she might work at the skee-ball place. I’ve seen her smoking outside there. Or it was someone who looked just like her.”

  “Thanks.” I hugged them both, not wanting them to feel we were interrogating them. “See you later. And thanks for sharing with so many people.”

  “Please! We didn’t want all that defrosted food to go to waste,” Molly said. “And it’s a tax deduction. Don’t make us heroes.”

  Kevin and I said good night and walked back out into the cold early-morning air. “So Shawn had a girlfriend.”

  “It sounds like it.” I wrapped my jacket closer around me. “Someone who probably lives in Duck.”

  “If you’re thinking she could be the killer, that would mean she had to be in or around the Blue Whale during the storm.”

  “That’s true. Although Game World isn’t that far to walk from the inn. I guess that’s why Shawn had such a lame alibi about spending the night by himself in his car. He might have been here in Duck—with his girlfriend—at the time Sandi was killed. I can see why he wouldn’t want anyone to know about that.” I yawned after I told him about seeing Shawn at Game World. “But I don’t know if I’m thinking at all, to tell you the truth. I think my brain stopped working about an hour ago.”

  “Maybe that means we should call it a night.” He wrapped his arm around me, and we headed down Duck Road—again.

  I hated to say good night once we reached the house. He kissed me, and we clung to each other for a long time while we stood on the front porch. I was freezing, but I didn’t want the moment to end.

  “Call me if you need me,” he whispered. “I’m good at reinforcing ‘no’ if that’s what you decide.”

  “I will.” I kissed him one last time. “It’ll be okay, Kevin. However it works out.”

  Gramps met me on the way into the house. I didn’t even make it to the stairs. “Dae, we need to talk.”

  “Not right now, if you don’t mind. Maybe tomorrow.”

  “This is important, honey. Chief Michaels needs your help.”

  “I know. But I’m tired, and I don’t think I can make a decision about the gun tonight.”

  He raised his eyebrows, his only sign of surprise. “Are you reading minds now?”

  “Gramps, I knew when I heard the three of you talking in the kitchen. Kevin knew too. You aren’t very good at keeping secrets.”

  He sat down in his chair, ignoring his favorite dancing show on TV. “But you’ll do it?”

  “I think so. But not because it’s my duty. I’d like to know who killed Sandi. And this might be the best way to find out.”

  “I understand.”

  “And while we’re talking”—I squared my
shoulders like a prizefighter preparing for a bout—“I’ve been spending time with Danny—my father. He doesn’t know yet that I’m his daughter. But I plan to tell him.”

  “I think that’s a mistake.” He shook his head. “But you’ll have to make that call—and live with the consequences.”

  “I know. I really think he’s changed, Gramps. And I’d like to have him over for dinner one night.”

  “I suppose you would.” He stroked his white beard. “But I don’t think I’m ready for that yet. Maybe someday.”

  “It’s been thirty-six years, Gramps. That’s a long time to hold a grudge.”

  “You didn’t see the look on your mother’s face when he abandoned her. Or know that he killed your grandmother as sure as if he’d held a gun to her head. I know I had my part in all this too. God knows I’m no saint, and maybe I was wrong about what I did. But he could’ve stayed. I wouldn’t have left you because someone threatened me. Or he could’ve led a decent life that was fit for your mother and you. I don’t know if I can ever forgive him for taking your mother’s innocence and leaving her to suffer. Not even for you, Dae.”

  Well, I’d wanted the truth out between us. I realized Gramps had his own truth about things too. Just because I wanted to know Danny—as my father—didn’t mean Gramps wanted to know him at all. I had to respect that.

  I hugged him to let him know it was okay. “You took that news way too well, you know. You’d already heard about me and Danny, right?”

  He shrugged. “Duck is a small town, honey. A lot of people around here have long memories.”

  I knew that was true—and had no doubt that Chief Michaels had told Gramps what was going on, for my own good. “Good night. Have someone bring the gun to Missing Pieces tomorrow. I’ll look at it there.”

  “Thanks, Dae. I love you, honey.”

  I went up to bed, but my dreams were restless. I was again that cabin boy who had been ordered to swim for his life.

  He was lying on a beach—washed up after so long that he wasn’t sure he was going to make it. He opened his eyes and looked around, surprised to find that he was alive and that he had managed to escape Rafe.