A Finder's Fee (17 page)

“D
on’t be so quick to judge.” Kevin chafed my hands to
warm them. “There’s probably a simple explanation. People get mad and fight all the time. It doesn’t mean one will kill the other.”

“This was more than that. I could
feel
how angry he was. I’m not judging. I’m worried that Gramps may be involved. What if he knew who killed Lightning Joe and that’s why he didn’t pay attention to the reports? I can’t save Mad Dog and hurt Gramps.”

“You said yourself that you couldn’t see the deputy’s face. Just because Horace signed off on some missing person’s reports doesn’t mean anything.”

“You’re right.” I put my hands to my head where it had begun to pound. “I don’t have enough information yet to make a decision. I need to touch the race car.”

“I think you’re asking for an overload, Dae. You’ve been up all night. You need some rest before you use your abilities again. If nothing else, stretch out on the sofa in my office for a while. Things will look better.”

He knew I loved that old sofa. It was a vintage piece, left there from the 1930s when the Blue Whale was in its heyday. The red velvet was so thick and rich, it was like sinking into a cloud. Its memories held only intimate moments and afternoon teas.

“What about you?”

“I’ll set the alarm and we’ll both get some sleep. The world isn’t going to stop turning because Dae O’Donnell takes a break for a couple of hours.”

He convinced me. I lay down on the elegant old sofa, and Kevin put a blanket over me then kissed me good night. It would be easy to get used to him always doing that, I thought. My eyes closed and I fell asleep.

I was dreaming about my mother and the terrible fight we’d had before her car went off the bridge on the way back to Duck. It had been about my bad grades in college and a boy I was dating that she didn’t like.

Stupid kid stuff. If I had it to do over again—if I only had it to do over again.

It had always bothered me that her body and the car had never been found. I’d lost track of how many dreams I’d had about her still sitting in the driver’s seat at the bottom of the sound.

I saw her again that way in this dream. She still looked as she had that day at school. Her hair, so like mine, floated around her face. She seemed frozen in time, her body not violated by the water and the more than thirteen years since she’d died.

I reached to touch her, something new for the dream, thinking I could finally learn exactly what had happened to her.

Before I could make contact, her blue eyes opened wide, staring at me. Her lips moved. “Find the black wardrobe.”

I woke up, gasping, hearing Kevin’s alarm clock in the next room as it switched on and started playing a Weird Al song. I didn’t even know Kevin liked Weird Al.

I pushed off the blanket and the dream about my mother and went into his bedroom.

He was still asleep, his eyelashes dark against his cheeks. He’d pulled the blinds down at the windows to keep out the morning sun. I gently touched his face and hair, waiting for the smile to slowly creep across his lips.

“Do you feel better?” he asked sleepily.

“Yes. You?”

He pulled me down into the bed with him. “I do now.”

• • •

I
put on my newly washed and dried clothes from last
night and ran a comb through my hair. I was still tired, but I felt refreshed by the short rest.

“I’m bringing some wire cutters in case that old fence around the impound lot needs cutting.” Kevin was packed and ready.

“I don’t think you’ll need those. I’m going to call Tim. I think he’ll let us in.”

“Be prepared. Did I tell you I used to be a Boy Scout? I made Eagle when I was in high school.”

“I believe you’ve mentioned it a few times.” I looked at all the breaking-and-entering paraphernalia he’d assembled and laughed. “We could get into Fort Knox with all this stuff.”

He zipped the duffel bag closed. “Let’s get going. I have to make lunch alone today. I gave my helpers the day off. I need them this weekend for a big birthday party.”

“You don’t have to go.”

He frowned at me. “Who’s got the bag full of useful tools? Let’s go.”

The Duck impound lot was a scrap piece of land behind the fire and police department building. It wasn’t fit to build on since it was too small even for a parking lot. Some tall shrubs hid it from the view of people going in and out each day.

Weeds and grass had grown up along the wire fence that surrounded it. The whole place looked like a junkyard instead of town property. This was probably because it was so well hidden from plain sight.

I made a mental note to get the public works men down there and get the place cleaned up. It definitely needed new fencing, maybe even some pavement.

That was if I was reelected mayor. I was so used to noticing these things—I realized I might have to become one of those dreadful Duck citizens who came to complain at every town meeting.

Some of the cars and trucks in the lot looked like they’d been there for twenty years or more. Vehicles were rusting apart, and others had flat tires. A few didn’t look like they’d ever move again. There had to be a better way to do this.

That was the mayor in me talking. The scared woman in the pickup with Kevin was glad the place was mostly undisturbed and ignored. It meant not answering any questions about why I wanted to look at a car that had probably been involved in a murder.

We pulled right up to the gate. It was unlocked, only a metal bar keeping it shut.

“Okay.” Kevin looked at me. “This is it.”

As if on cue, Tim’s police car crept up next to us.

“Morning, Kevin.” He nodded. “Dae.”

“Hi, Tim.” I glanced around. “Do you have a key?”

“Of course. Every officer is issued a key to the impound lot. Why do you want to go in there?”

“I told you—I want to touch number twelve so I can see if Mad Dog put Lightning Joe in it.”

“Really? I thought you were kidding.” Tim looked at Kevin, who shook his head. “Come on, Dae. That’s evidence from a murder scene.”

“I only want to touch it. I promise not to spoil anything.”

Tim looked at the key and then at Dae. “All right. But I can’t stay. It would be a violation of my duty to watch you. Give the key to Trudy when you’re done.”

“Thanks.” I smiled at him. It felt so weird not having him profess his love for me or telling me that I owed him dinner and a movie. It was a relief, of course, but also the end of an era of sorts. I hoped.

When Tim had driven away, Kevin and I crept into the fenced area toward the still colorfully painted race car. I thought about all the pictures I’d seen of the number twelve car at the Duck Historical Museum. Between the years under the sand and the damage that must’ve been done the last time Mad Dog had raced, it hardly looked like the same vehicle. Only the big number twelve and Mad Dog’s name on the side door were there to confirm it.

Kevin surveyed the area, making sure we were alone. I could imagine him doing the same thing in his dark FBI suit and sunglasses. Only now, he was wearing jeans and a blue T-shirt. I never expected to meet a man like him, much less fall in love with him, but I was glad I did.

I took a deep breath and cleared my thoughts. The breeze from the sea made the shrubs shake around us and whistled through the empty old cars. I closed my eyes and touched the race car.

And there was dust flying around the track, making it difficult to see. He gripped the wheel tightly, forced to go faster because Joe was hot on his heels. His foot slammed down on the gas pedal. He could feel rocks and sand hitting the bottom of the car. He wished he could go faster. He wished he could beat Joe once and for all. Maybe then Joe wouldn’t come back again.

He’d been king of the track before Joe started showing up each time when the race was almost over. He’d drive the other racers out of the competition. Then the black car would show up. It wasn’t fair and it wasn’t right. But the people loved him. She loved him. If he could, he would—

He lost control of the car. It was flipping over and over again. The metal screamed and bunched around him. The windows burst out, spraying him with glass. He couldn’t hold it. The side panel next to him pushed in and ripped into his leg. Hot blood ran down into his boot. He lost consciousness.

I opened my eyes on the clear, sunny morning in the impound lot. Kevin was still standing beside me. The island breeze raced across again, flying from the Atlantic Ocean to the Currituck Sound.

It was hard to get my thoughts together and pry them away from the wreck that had happened forty years ago. It was as though I had been in Mad Dog’s body for those critical few moments. I could still feel the violent movements of the car and the pain from his injured leg—the leg he still favored today.

“Are you all right?”

“Yes. I think so. It’s hard to pull back.”

“We should go.”

“I know.” I took several deep breaths and tried to think about everything that was important and real in my life. Gramps. Kevin. Treasure. Missing Pieces. The smell of the water. The moon riding high in the clouds on a soft summer night.

“What was that?” Maggie’s voice was slurred. “What manner of contraption was that?”

“Dae.” Kevin called me back. “Snap out of it.”

I looked at him and nodded. “Okay. Let’s go.”

I heard the footstep behind us in the sand before I heard the man who’d joined us.

“Mayor O’Donnell. Mr. Brickman.” It was Officer Scott Randall. “I don’t know if you’d call this trespassing, but the town frowns on people visiting the impound lot without permission. Do you have permission?”

Scott was such a serious young man—respectful and careful of his job. Finding us there after the other night at the new town hall couldn’t have been pleasant for him. He was as humble as Tim was brash. We’d received dozens of letters from people he’d stopped for speeding, all telling us what a nice young man he was.

I liked him and I hated that he’d been the one involved in my crazy life the last few days. But this problem was much easier to solve than the one at the construction site.

“The museum sent us out to take some pictures of old number twelve for the collection. After all, this is history too.”

Of course the situation wasn’t as bad either. Technically, there was no fine or even an ordinance to cover unlawful visitation of the impound lot. I’d thought ahead about this explanation. I knew it would be something easy for him to understand.

I didn’t want to show him Tim’s key and get him in trouble. My explanation was going to have to be convincing.

“Of course, ma’am.” He looked down at my hands. “Did you lose your camera?”

He was
almost
too quick for me. I brought out my cell phone, with camera, and smiled. “You know, no one uses plain cameras anymore. We can download these pictures into the computer at the museum. All our new records are kept that way.”

Of course nothing could have been further from the truth. Most members of the historical society still did everything the old-fashioned way. They could barely use a computer.

Scott didn’t know that.

“That’s fine, ma’am. Just be careful out here. I wouldn’t want you to get hurt on all this rusted metal. Have a nice day.”

“Thanks, Scott.”

“You’re welcome, Mayor.” He turned to Kevin. “I’m sorry about you having to pay that fine, Mr. Brickman. I hope you know I was only doing what the town requires of me. Sorry about your excavating equipment too. The chief tried to get them to leave it here in our impound lot, but the sheriff had it taken to Manteo, to the county impound.”

I sighed. The ghost of my misdeeds haunted me too.

“Aye,” Maggie whispered. “I know the feeling.”

Scott walked us back to the pickup at the gate as Kevin reassured him that he understood about the excavator.

“I think I can get someone to bring that back from Manteo for a good price,” I said when we were in the pickup.

“Thanks. Don’t worry about it.” Kevin started the truck and backed out of the area. “What did you see from the car?”

I went back over it again in my mind before I answered. It was easy now that I’d distanced myself from it.

“I only saw Mad Dog’s last wreck in it. There was something repetitive from the vision I got from the badge.”

“What was that?”

“The deputy in my vision wanted Joe to leave some woman alone. Mad Dog was thinking about a woman he wanted who was in love with Joe. Seems like a coincidence, doesn’t it?”

“Are you going for some mystery woman killing Joe and stuffing his body into the race car?”

“I don’t know what I’m looking at. Joe was in love with some woman. The mystery deputy might have been in love with her too.”

He laughed. “That’s some theory.”

“It doesn’t help when the visions aren’t clear.”

“Nothing about the murder itself?”

“Not a thing. Although I understand why Mad Dog grimaces when he has to walk. His leg must’ve been a mess after the wreck.”

“It might be interesting to find out how the police are dealing with that fact. It seems to me that being injured in the wreck would be the perfect alibi. Not many people with a torn-up leg could kill a man and stuff him into a car.”