A Touch of Gold (13 page)

Widow’s walks were designed for ship captains’ wives who watched for their husbands to come home. Many times they were already widows who wouldn’t know for months, sometimes years, that their husbands had been taken by the sea.

The rooftop walk was a very quiet, kind of moody place that had always enchanted me. I was brought up on tales of shipwrecks and legendary pirate figures that made death at sea almost romantic. Even in the summer when I had to fend off bats who liked the spot as much as I did, I loved to come up here.

I could imagine those poor women waiting for their men. As a child, I always wondered why they didn’t go to sea with them. Gramps told me it was because women weren’t welcome on ships back then. It seemed to me that I would’ve found a way. There were female pirates who captained their own vessels. I would’ve been one of them.

But tonight my rooftop walkway was too full of sorrow and the ghosts from the past. I went back to my room and finally fell asleep dreaming that I was wearing the red lace dress, waiting for Kevin to come home.

 

 

T
he next day was busy at Missing Pieces. Not so much with people buying my stuff as with people stopping in because it had begun to trickle out that I had been hurt when the museum exploded. Everyone wanted to know what had happened, play by play.

I explained what I could, then told them all to come to the meeting that night. I hoped the chief had thought about what he was going to say to the anxious citizens of Duck. I was still working on my piece.

More than a few people asked about the pirate curse. I tried to assure them that Rafe hadn’t blown up the museum, despite what they might have heard. I had the feeling most of them didn’t believe me. It was almost like a “poor Dae” kind of thing. They smiled and patted me on the head or the arm as they looked at my gloved hands. I could almost hear them talking outside the shop:
“Poor Dae hurt her head and now she doesn’t know what’s going on.”

Tim stopped in before lunch to ask me to eat with him. When I told him I already had plans, he shrugged and said, “I have some new information about the museum.”

He was obviously dangling a carrot in front of me. I decided to bite. “Okay.”

“I thought I could tell you what I found out over lunch. The Rib Shack has a special today.”

“Thanks.” Why did he always invite me to go to the Rib Shack with him? He knew I didn’t like eating there. “I can’t today. But I’d love to know what’s going on with the investigation.”

“It’s Kevin, isn’t it? Old Man Sweeney said he thought he saw him drive you home late last night. You two have finally hooked up, haven’t you? What about us?”

It was bad enough to know Gramps was looking out the peephole when Kevin kissed me good night at the door. It was another thing to know Mr. Sweeney was reporting my movements to Tim. “You recently dated Betsy Marlin, that accountant from Kill Devil Hills. Before that, it was Shayla, and before that it was Trudy. Why can’t I date someone?”

His face lightened. “You mean like sowing your wild oats out before we settle down? I didn’t think of that!”

“I don’t think I have any wild oats.” I didn’t like the turn of the conversation.

“Just tell me you don’t love me, Dae O’Donnell, and I’ll go away and never darken your door again. Look me in the eyes and tell me.”

I put my hands on my hips, stood close to him and looked him squarely in the eyes. “I know we’ve known each other all our lives, Tim. But I don’t love you, not that way. You’re like the brother I never had. Happy now? What else do you know about the museum?”

He frowned. “You don’t mean it. You’re infatuated with Kevin right now. You’ll get over it. I’ll be here waiting.”

“Great. Museum? Spill it.”

He looked over his shoulder. “I shouldn’t tell you—”

“Go ahead before someone else comes in.”

“Chief Michaels had the cannon at the Corolla Historical Museum picked up this morning for testing. Ballistics is going to take a look at it in Manteo. And they can’t find Sam Meacham. They want to question him, but he’s disappeared.”

“Disappeared? Where?”

“Duh! Now who’s the dummy? That’s the nature of disappearing, Dae.” He goaded me. “No one can find you.”

“Thanks for explaining.”

“This proves Sam is guilty of killing Max,” he went on. “No one runs unless they’re guilty.”

Despite his logic, I didn’t agree. I managed to get him out of the shop, then went to meet Kevin for lunch at Wild Stallions, a little bar and grill tucked into a corner of the boardwalk. I told Kevin what Tim had said, and we talked about it over sandwiches and homemade chips.

“Why are you so sure Sam is innocent?” Kevin asked. “You know they argued earlier that day. A cannon is an unusual choice of weapon for people who aren’t historians or museum caretakers. I agree with Chief Michaels on this.”

“It might make sense in a computer/law enforcement kind of way.” I knew what he was getting at. I’d grown up with Gramps working as the sheriff of Dare County. “But even though Max and Sam argued, they were really good friends. Sam wouldn’t get so mad after all these years that he’d drag a cannon down from Corolla to kill Max.”

“Sometimes even the best of friends go too far. Maybe Max finding a DNA match to prove his theory about Theodosia Burr was too much. We all have breaking points.”

I sipped my water and thought about it. “Even if he
was
that mad, Sam would never destroy so much history. I might be convinced that he could do something to Max, I guess, but
never
blow up the museum.”

He shrugged. “Only one way to know for sure.”

“Find Sam. I know. He’s gotta be around here somewhere. Maybe I should drive out there this afternoon. If I can find him, he might talk to me.”

“You’ll be stepping into the middle of an active police investigation,” he reminded me. “Need some help?”

“Sure! Can you spare the time?”

“Let’s see, waterproof some windows at the inn or go with one of my favorite people to Corolla on a beautiful, sunny afternoon. Tough choice.”

“
One
of your favorites, huh?” I grinned. “When you put it that way—”

He paid the check and got to his feet. “I’m all yours.”

 

 

C
orolla wasn’t that far from Duck, but everyone seemed to like the idea of a drive that afternoon. Maybe it was the brilliant blue skies and glimpses of curling surf topped with windblown white caps. The sun was warm, and we all knew less beautiful winter weather was coming. It looked as though a lot of people were putting off things they should have been doing—which left us all bumper to bumper, moving toward Corolla like a parade.

“If the chief is saying Sam has disappeared, he must’ve checked his house and the museum already.” I tried to think of the next most obvious place to look for him. “There’s a little diner he liked to hang out at. I went there a few times with Max and Sam. Maybe we should check there first.”

“I think we should scout out the obvious places too,” Kevin said. “You have unique abilities Chief Michaels doesn’t have, even with your gloves on.”

“You mean I should try to find someone who might think of Sam as being lost? I’ve never tried that before. I suppose there could be a first time.” I looked at my telltale gloved hands. “It would have to be someone close to him who’s wondering where he is. Otherwise, maybe I could grab something Sam owns and it would tell me something.”

“No!”
The command in his voice surprised me. “I don’t think I can go through seeing you that way again, Dae. I agree that you aren’t ready yet.”

That was an unexpected tack. “I thought you said I should practice.”

“With safe, familiar objects first. We don’t know what’s happened to Sam yet. Trying to use your new abilities to find him from something he owns might be a mistake. I meant that you have an unusual way of looking at things and seeing things that other people miss. Just don’t touch any of them.”

“Maybe,” I halfheartedly agreed. “If I saw the chief and could convince him to hold my hand, I could probably pick something up from him. That’s not likely to happen.”

“Chief Michaels believes in your gift,” he said. “He might be willing.”

“He might be if he didn’t think I was trying to figure out his case for him. The chief is kind of funny about that. And Corolla’s police chief is even worse. Gramps said he’s got a mind like a steel trap that’s permanently closed.”

Kevin laughed. “Sounds like a lot of people I used to work with.”

I thought about his partner, Ann, but didn’t say anything. There might be a time for us to talk about her and their relationship, but this wasn’t it. What we had together was too new. It would be like taking someone to meet your parents right after flirting with them for the first time.

Corolla was bigger than Duck, with many more businesses, homes and, of course, the lighthouse. Max always felt cheated that Duck didn’t have a historic lighthouse. On the other hand, Duck had a pirate curse, so that kind of made up for it.

The lighthouse sat in the middle of historic Corolla Village. Since 1875, it had warned sailors of dangerous waters. Kevin and I got out of the truck and looked at it. Unfortunately, it didn’t warn unwary investigators of possible dangers coming from behind.

The unmistakable sound of a shotgun getting ready to fire was followed by a gruff voice. “Who the hell are you and what do you want?”

Chapter 9

I
put up my hands in the air in what might’ve been a comical fashion had there not been a shotgun pointed at me, and turned to face the man holding the weapon. It was Mr. Artiz, the Corolla lighthouse keeper. “Hi there. Remember me? Dae O’Donnell? I’ve been here lots of times with Sam and Max.”

He squinted one eye and looked me up and down. “So you are.” He pointed the gun at Kevin, who
didn’t
have his hands held high. “Who’s he?”

“Kevin Brickman, sir.” He put out his hand toward Mr. Artiz. “I’m here with Dae. We’re looking for Sam.”

Mr. Artiz put down the gun. He wore a red cap on his grizzled head. “Join the crowd. So’s everyone else.”

“You mean the police?” I asked, calmer now that a gun wasn’t pointed at me.

“I guess. One or two of them said who they were with. The others didn’t. That’s why I brought old Betsy out here with me.”

“I understand,” I said, although I didn’t. “Would you mind if we have a look around?”

“You might as well. There can’t be much in there that they haven’t looked at.”

Each lighthouse in the Outer Banks is painted a different color or pattern. The Currituck Beach lighthouse, as it’s known, is the only red brick lighthouse on the East Coast. It still flashes at twenty-second intervals to warn of shallow water.

The lighthouse and the keeper’s home at its base aren’t technically a part of the museum, but both are open to the public. I knew Sam and Mr. Artiz had been friends forever. I wasn’t surprised when he followed us into the museum.

“I haven’t seen Sam since the day after your museum blew up,” the old caretaker told us. “What a terrible thing that was. I hope you find out what happened.” He walked us back to Sam’s office at the side of the Corolla museum, which was much larger than Duck’s had been. “The place looks like a hurricane hit it, I’ll tell you that much, Dae.”

He was right. There were papers, boxes and photos scattered everywhere from the desk to the dusty file cabinets and the floor. But no sign of Sam.

“Do the police think something like that could happen here?” he asked me. “Is that why they’re making such a fuss?”

I glanced at Kevin, who shrugged. I interpreted that to mean I should go for it. “The police think Sam killed Max by blowing him up in the Duck museum,” I told him. I couldn’t say it any plainer than that.

“That’s crazy talk! Sam and Max were like brothers.”

“Brothers who argued violently all the time,” Kevin reminded him.

“Maybe they argued, but they wouldn’t hurt each other. The police are climbing up the wrong mast.” He looked around the office. “You think Sam left quick once he heard?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “I guess I was hoping I could figure that out.”

“Well, you take your time. I don’t know if the police or those other fellas left anything useful behind in this mess. But you’re welcome to it if they did. Say hello to Horace for me.”

“You don’t have any idea who the other
fellas
were?” Kevin asked. “Were they wearing uniforms? Could they have been with the sheriff’s department?”

Mr. Artiz shrugged his bony shoulders beneath a blue overall. “I never seen them before. They didn’t introduce themselves.”

He left us alone in the maelstrom that was Sam’s office. I didn’t know where to start. Everything was such a mess. How would we ever find something useful that might lead us to Sam?

“What kind of things did Sam do outside the office?” Kevin started sorting through the papers on a chair.