A Touch of Gold (29 page)

“I don’t know why this happened,” he finally said. “But I know your grandfather loves you. There must’ve been an important reason to keep this from you.”

“I’ve thought that a million times. But what possible reason could there be to lie to me about my father?”

“I don’t know.”

“And my mother. I thought we were so close because it was always the two of us. What am I supposed to think now?”

“I wish I had the answers.”

“One thing’s for sure—I have to find him.”

“Maybe that’s why your grandfather didn’t tell you about him.”

“I’ve thought of that.”

“But you don’t care.”

“Would
you
?”

“Probably not.”

We were getting close to the island. I could make out the shape of the big house on the hill. The sun was up, warming the cold winds made icier by the speed of the boat.

All the men onboard checked their guns, adjusted vests, hats and gloves, then stood facing the upcoming landmass. It was still early—barely eight A.M. Walker talked to each man, giving out instructions. I imagined Chiefs Peabody and Michaels were doing the same on the other boats.

It looked and felt like a raid, not the peaceful conversation and negotiation I’d been expecting. Knowing what I did about Bunk, I believed he’d know what to expect.

But as we came closer to the coastline, there was an air of stillness about the place. Was it because it was early morning? No, it felt like something else. I didn’t know what—until I saw the first man lying at the edge of the dock. There was another man facedown in the water near him.

Gramps stopped the
Eleanore
. He radioed the police boats behind us, and Walker spoke with Chief Michaels and Walt Peabody for a few minutes. Evidently, this wasn’t a scenario they’d considered either.

“You should go below deck,” Walker said to me when he was done talking on the radio.

“He’s right, Dae,” Gramps agreed. “This looks bad.”

“I’m staying where I am, thanks. I think I can handle it if you can.”

Walker shrugged and turned away, mumbling loudly about civilians being involved with law enforcement activities. Gramps went back to the helm. The three boats progressed more cautiously toward the narrow strip of land. Everyone’s eyes were alert, scanning the coastline for any sign of activity.

Nothing moved. As we got closer, I could see there were three other bodies on the dock. There was blood splattered everywhere. Boats rocked at their moorings, and I could see that some of them had bullet holes in them. Another, the one that had brought me home yesterday, looked as though it had been set on fire and was barely above water.

“What happened?” I stared out at the devastation that had taken place in the last twenty-four hours.

“Maybe a rival,” Kevin said. “A man like Bunk Whitley is bound to have some enemies. Are you sure you want to see this?”

Not really,
I thought, but I said I did. I didn’t want to see it, but I didn’t want to hide from it either.

They brought the police boats up to the docks first, and several officers, guns drawn, spilled out to anchor the boats. Gramps nudged the
Eleanore
up to the mooring, and I jumped out to secure her as I always did when I was onboard. I didn’t think about it until I looked up and saw Kevin there beside me. Behind him were several angrylooking SBI agents. Apparently, I’d done their job for them.

The first group from the police boats was already disappearing toward the house, radioing back that the area seemed to be deserted. We followed in their wake. The only people still left on the island seemed to be the dead security men at the dock. There was no one else between the water and the house. Chief Michaels called back to everyone else to let them know the house appeared to be empty too.

I tried not to look too closely at the dead bodies, but I couldn’t help myself. I saw Nash among the dead but not Roger. Maybe he’d been killed somewhere else, but the carnage seemed confined to the docks. I was determined to mention my suspicions about Roger to Chief Michaels. Roger could certainly be the killer Bunk was trying to protect.

The devastation at the house was haphazard and wasteful, like something a child would do during a temper tantrum. Paintings were slashed and burned. The fountain was broken and thrown out of a window. Clothes were strewn everywhere along with cooking utensils and food. Not a single pane of glass was left unbroken in the sunroom where I’d had lunch with Bunk.

“What do you think?” Chiefs Michaels asked as he joined Peabody and Walker in the foyer.

“Beats me.” Peabody shook his head. “Safe’s been emptied. Can’t find a thing of worth not ripped apart or burned.”

“Looks like some kind of revenge,” Walker added. “Sometimes that’s the way these things play out.”

But Kevin, who’d stuck with me like a shadow, disagreed. “The timing is too perfect. For the first time in years, your group knew Bunk was out here. But before you could get out here to question him, he’s gone? Except for the dead men at the dock, there’s no real lasting damage here. Someone could come back, clean up and live here again next week.”

Walker and the two police chiefs nodded. But Gramps said, “I don’t believe Bunk would kill a few of his own men out front for a show. He’s too old school, too much the country gentleman the way Dae described him. I think someone attacked him out here and he left the island. Probably won’t see him again anytime soon either.”

I could read in his bitter tone that he wished Bunk had never come back. Without Bunk’s interference, I wouldn’t know about my father and Gramps and I wouldn’t be on the outs. I supposed I’d wish that too if I were him. Maybe I did a little anyway. I didn’t like us arguing. But I couldn’t let this lie about my father go unchallenged.

So the chiefs argued with Walker, and I walked around the grounds thinking what a change a day can make. Kevin kept pace with me, but he was quiet as I looked around for some clue about what had happened.

I picked up a few things and held them, but they revealed only garbled images that made no sense. I believed Bunk would leave something for me. Call it intuition, but he knew about my gift. I thought he might find a way to use it to his advantage.

Kevin and I walked through the gardens. The SBI and police departments had given this area only a cursory glance since they were more interested in the house and the dead security men. We were near the fountain where Bunk and I had first met when I spotted his walking stick. I never saw him use it but he’d had it with him the whole time I was here. It was out of place and drew me to it. It seemed exactly the kind of thing he might use to contact me.

“Wait!” Kevin stopped me as I crouched down to pick it up. “You don’t know what you might be taking on if you touch that!”

Chapter 20

“B
e careful,” Kevin warned.

I nodded before I reached for it, as prepared as I could be for whatever I might pick up from the walking stick. Images exploded in my head when I touched it. It was made in Thailand, especially for Bunk, but it was one of dozens exactly like it. He was never without one.

The problem with that was there were no memories, no strong emotions for me to feel. It was like picking up something new, something with no background to share.

I was disappointed. I’d hoped the stick had a message for me. Kevin examined the stick and pried off the top piece, glancing toward the house. “People like to hide things in these.”

Kevin wasn’t psychic, but he’d guessed well. Inside was a small, rolled-up piece of paper. I could feel Bunk’s amusement on hiding it for me before he left the island.

“Well it proves he was here.” I frowned and rolled up the paper again.

“The FBI probably already knew he was here,” Kevin said. “Just because they didn’t tell anyone else doesn’t mean they didn’t know.”

“Whoever this guy is, Bunk is really afraid of him.”
With good reason
, I thought, considering the dead security guards.

“You can only hire so many people to protect you. The fact that whoever did this got so close despite Bunk’s crew of trained professionals—it must’ve really scared him.”

“I suppose so.” Bunk was gone with all the answers. And he’d left us still trying to find the right questions. “Why would someone want to kill him?”

“Who knows?” Kevin shrugged. “A wily old devil like him probably has a hundred people waiting in line to do the job.”

“But this one he couldn’t strike out at.” I told Kevin that I hadn’t seen Roger among the dead. “I think Roger may be the one Bunk couldn’t kill because he cares about him.”

“And why would that be, Mayor O’Donnell?” Agent Walker asked, catching up with us.

“I don’t know exactly. I think whoever did this is related to Bunk. Family, you know?” I thought about what Bunk had said in the sunroom about Max not being the target. “Maybe Agnes was always the target, not Max or Sam. She was at the museum before it exploded too. Maybe Max and Sam got in the way, like Bunk said.”

“You mean the woman he told you was his daughter?”

“Yes. Max knew the truth and he was killed. Bunk said he was worried about Sam. Maybe Sam knew the secret Bunk was trying to hide, even though it was by accident. Someone tried to burn down Agnes’s house with her inside. Maybe it’s all about the gold and who gets it when Bunk dies.”

Walker seemed to think it over but then dismissed the idea. “I don’t buy it. Sorry. Organizations don’t work that way. The spoils go to whoever takes over.”

“I don’t know if you could classify Bunk Whitley as an organization,” I said.

Walker nodded at the cane Kevin still held. “Did that belong to him? We’ll have to take it in as evidence.”

I didn’t volunteer the note. I wasn’t sure it would really make any difference to Walker or the case. But it meant something to me.

Walker told us we’d have to leave the island. They were locking it down for a special SBI forensics team that was coming in to go over everything more thoroughly. I was ready to go anyway. I guessed I’d found what I came for in part, if not everything. Bunk’s quick departure (probably by helicopter—Kevin pointed out the tracks in the sand) left me wanting to know more but with no one to ask.

Since Walker and his men stayed on the island, that left me, Gramps and Kevin going back on the
Eleanore
together. Kevin conveniently left me and Gramps alone at the helm, probably thinking we should talk about our problem. I decided I was ready if Gramps was.

“It was a long time ago, Dae. I guess I never expected it to come up. Or at least I hoped it wouldn’t. I can’t even figure out how Bunk knew about it. We kept it a secret between us, your mom, your grandmother and me.”

“I think Bunk makes it his business to find out useful secrets. Maybe he thought he could use it against you. You
were
the Dare County sheriff at the time.”

“Maybe. He probably got it from your father. He’s that kind of man.”

“What kind?”

“The troublemaking kind. He’s been in and out of jail his whole life. I begged your mother to stop seeing him, but she kept sneaking out. Then it was too late. She found out she was pregnant. She couldn’t wait to tell him. She really thought he’d want to settle down with her and the baby.”

“But he didn’t?”

He laughed in a terrible, sad way. “No. He took off for parts unknown. He told your mother to call him when she took care of the problem. She was so far gone over that boy that she almost did it too. Your grandmother found her at an abortion clinic in Elizabeth City and dragged her home by the ear.”

The thump-thump-thump of the engine kept time with my heart. I’d asked for the truth not knowing how awful it might be. My father didn’t want me, and my mother almost got rid of me. My eyes stung with tears that I forced myself to hold back so Gramps would continue the story.

“Then she decided she wanted me?” I asked hopefully.

He glanced up as though to say he was sorry, but there was more. “I’m afraid not, honey. She left to go and find him, to make him change his mind. She was gone when your grandmother suffered a heart attack and passed on. Eleanore died of a broken heart—I don’t care what the doctors said.”

How had they kept all of this from me? I remembered my mother talking about my grandmother so many times yet she never mentioned it. “That’s terrible.”

“Your grandmother was in the ground before your mother came back with you. She’d thought seeing you would change your father. It didn’t. He threw both of you out on the street. Your mother had to beg for bus fare to get back home. When she got back, the two of you were starving—thin as rails and sickly too. You cried all the time. I hated to tell her that her mother was dead, but I had no choice. For a while, I thought it might kill her too. I was scared to death of trying to raise a little girl on my own.”