A Spirited Gift (20 page)

I yawned and heated up my pancakes, then drank some juice. “Speaking of work, I did some last night after you were gone. I called you but you didn't answer.”

“I'm not some damn lapdog to be at your beck and call,” he growled.

“Sorry. But I need to know the magistrate's name.”

I found it difficult to talk to him after last night's dream. But I had to keep this in context if I wanted to get rid of him. What he'd done had happened more than three centuries ago. I wasn't so into history that it was like yesterday for me. Even if the dream was true—I had to move on.

“I don't know his name,” he roared. “He was the magistrate who wrongly accused me and made me dance on the gibbet. What do I care about his name?”

“Pancakes?” I offered before I started eating.

He frowned. “Even a daft wench like yerself must know the dead don't eat.”

“You've never seen a zombie movie, I take it.” I poured syrup on my plate. “I was just being polite. Did you find out anything last night about Sandi's murder?”

“Mayhap,” he said in a coy manner, pulling at his mustache. “I'll trade for your information.”

“I don't think you'd want to if you heard it.”

“Tell me and I'll decide.”

“You killed two sailors who buried your treasure chest on an island, and then you sent a young cabin boy to his death in the ocean.”

His black brows knit together over his fierce eyes. “It's possible. What of it? What does it have to do with me being hanged?”

I shrugged. “Maybe nothing. I just wanted to know if my dream was real. It seemed real.”

“That's right.” He nodded. “The Bellamys were always being accused of witchcraft. What else did you dream?”

“That's it. Like I said, I don't know if it means anything or not.”

“Blast your hide! And you want me to trade my valuable information for that piece of fluff?” He couldn't manage to pound his fist on the table—it never actually met the wood. But the salt and pepper shakers and napkins bounced up anyway.

“I guess that's up to you. I told you what I have. How do you know your information will be any more valuable to me? I mean, let's face it, half of what you're seeing and hearing has got to be confusing for you. You probably don't even realize what information you have.”

His entire form rose up from the chair to hang above the table. He looked like an angry giant. He put his hands on his hips and glared down at me. “You push my patience to the limit, girl, even if you are blood kin. Ye don't realize who you're dealing with.”

I ate some of the pancakes on my plate even though my hands were trembling. He was scary—I don't think anyone would disagree with that. But I knew if I showed him that I was afraid, he'd take advantage of me. I had to at least pretend I had the upper hand, even though I wasn't sure I did.

“You're so sensitive,” I told him after another sip of juice. “I'm surprised you made it as a pirate at all. If I could hurt your feelings just by suggesting you might not know everything, what happened when someone actually challenged you to a fight?”

“I killed whoever challenged me!” His voice rattled the window pane behind me and made the floors creak upstairs.

I stood up and put my hands on my hips. “You might've been tough when you were alive—but you're not anymore. Stop trying to scare me into doing what you want. It won't work. Don't forget—we're blood kin and I think I may have some pirate in me. Be warned!”

He blasted out of the house, sending every electrical appliance crazy (more than they were already from the storm). The doors flew open, and the water turned on full force in the kitchen sink.

After turning off the water, I sat down at the table for a minute and tried to gather my wits. I had to talk with Shayla again. Despite our agreement, the ghost of Rafe Masterson and I were not compatible. I might have a nervous breakdown long before he could deliver any useful information to me or I could learn who the magistrate was who'd had him hanged.

Not wanting to be there if Rafe returned, I locked up the house and ran to Missing Pieces. I wasn't sure if my father would be there or not. I called his name when I opened the shop door. The pillow and blanket were still on the burgundy brocade sofa, but there was no sign of him. The front door had been locked, so maybe he'd gone out for breakfast.

I didn't want to get so attached that I began following him around. It wasn't easy, but I had to keep my distance. I noticed with a smile that everything seemed to be in its place—he hadn't stolen from me again. That was a good sign. Anyone could get desperate enough to do what he'd done.

I checked in with Nancy at town hall after locking up Missing Pieces again. Things had quieted down after the water and power were restored. There was an issue about garbage pickup—everyone needed to have trash removed and the trash company said they couldn't come back until next week.

I fielded that call and finally convinced the company to begin trash pickup again the next day. It helped that their contract was up December 1. A little leverage goes a long way. Speedy trash pickup was one blemish Mad Dog Wilson couldn't put on my mayor's scorecard.

“Thanks, sweetie,” Nancy said. “Was it nice to have a hot shower this morning or what?”

“It was heaven. Is power on all over the island now?”

“There are a few places that were more heavily damaged—like Hatteras and Roanoke Island. The rest of us are in pretty good shape. And now we get garbage pickup too. You're a great mayor!”

“Be sure to tell Mad Dog that,” I replied with a smile. “I'm headed over to the Blue Whale to see if I can help Kevin with anything. He had all those volunteers for the conference, but I think most of them will be working at their own homes and businesses today.”

“Speaking of which,” Nancy started, “I hope nothing was taken from the shop last night.”

Did she know about my father staying there? It was always a possibility. The Duck grapevine was a powerful force.

“Everything looked fine this morning. Why?”

“Tim picked up some vagrant who'd gotten into your shop and was sleeping there. I'm just glad he found him before you checked in there this morning.”

“Tim arrested someone in my shop?” I tried not to sound
too
surprised and concerned. My heart was pounding, wondering if everyone would find out that Danny Evans was my father. I reminded myself that the two events had nothing in common.

“Yep. You never know what people will do when they get desperate. I think Tim said they ran him over to the county jail this morning. Lucky thing for us that our Duck Police are on the ball!”

Chapter 24

I couldn't get in the garage to take out Gramps's old car and drive to Manteo. A tree had fallen from the neighbor's yard, blocking the door. With so much going on, I hadn't even noticed.

We rarely used the old garage, or the car for that matter. We usually walked or took the golf cart. Everything was close by in town, and the car was only for trips farther afield.

Like a trip to the county jail to bail out my father. I knew he wouldn't have anyone else to come for him, and he'd done nothing wrong. If it had been anyone else mistakenly locked up, I would've called a police car to go and get him.

But I couldn't do that in this case without a good explanation. I knew I couldn't ask Gramps for help, and I didn't want to involve Tim or any other friend for the same reason.

Kevin might be the one person I could turn to who wouldn't go crazy when I told him about Danny. I hoped I could convince him not to tell Gramps yet. I knew he wouldn't like keeping the secret but maybe just this one time.

I walked down to the Blue Whale—rehearsing what I'd planned to say like I was preparing to make a speech to the town council. I knew Kevin wouldn't be happy that I'd been seeing my father and hadn't said anything to him.

But other people I'd known all my life would be even more upset. All of them felt like they had a God-given right to know everything.

Two Duck police cars and three Dare County Sheriff cars were parked in the circle drive at the Blue Whale. At least twenty other cars—presumably belonging to the attendees of the botched mayor's conference who'd returned at Chief Michaels's insistence—surrounded them.

I noticed that the ruins of the crushed mermaid fountain were gone. I wondered what Kevin would choose to replace it. The mermaid fountain had been there since the Blue Whale first opened in the early 1900s. The museum had a picture on display of old Bunk Whitley standing in front by the fountain the day the inn opened.

Inside the inn, chaos reigned. I cringed at what Kevin must be going through and wasn't sure I should ask him to drive me to Manteo after all. The unhappy, sometimes angry guests seemed to be complaining loudly from every corner of every room.

“Dae!” Barker Whiteside greeted me from the bar. “Come sit down! You look like I feel.”

I sat beside him on the bar stool. Marissa was getting drinks, finding pens and paper for guests to write on and doing whatever else was asked of her. She was clearly put out at having to do so much. “Can I get you something, Dae?” she asked.

“No, thanks. I came by to see if I could help you and Kevin get through this. I'm sorry it's making so much extra work for you.”

She smiled though she still looked stressed. “I'm not complaining. At least I got to go home last night and check on my grandfather and the house. They were both fine. I think Grandpa slept through everything.”

“I'm glad. Just tell me what I can do to help.”

“Let me finish up here and we'll take a look around. You're a blessing, Dae.”

“What are you writing?” I asked Barker when Marissa turned to get Cokes for two other visitors. Everyone in the bar area seemed to be intently writing something on Blue Whale stationery.

“The police asked us to write down exactly where we were and what we were doing when Sandi was killed.” He put down his pen and took a sip of whatever he was drinking. “I can't believe someone had the nerve to kill her while all of us were right here. What kind of cojones did that take?”

“I agree. And what can everyone say now but that they were stuffed in the lobby during the worst of the storm and didn't really see anything?”

“Mayor?” Chief Michaels tapped me on the shoulder. “Could I have a word with you?”

We went down the hallway to the kitchen where Kevin was working with two assistants, making lunch for the group. He glanced at the chief in a questioning way and smiled at me. I made a mental note to approach the town council for money to cover this investigation. Despite what Gramps had said, there had to be a fair settlement for all this expense. It wasn't Kevin's fault that Sandi was killed here and the police chose to invite all the guests back again. I didn't think he should feel responsible for what happened.

“What was going on in there just now?” Chief Michaels asked me when we reached a side corner of the large kitchen, away from the cooking area.

I thought back. “I was talking to Mayor Whiteside.”

“And what were you saying? If I hadn't been walking by and heard you, every guest that was here would use the alibi you just gave Barker! You're undermining the investigation. I know you want us to find who killed Mayor Foxx.”

“I'm sorry. I didn't realize that's what I was doing.”

I could tell the chief was under a lot of stress. He always was when he had to work with Sheriff Tuck Riley. Sheriff Riley had taken Gramps's place when he'd retired. While Gramps and Chief Michaels had a great working relationship, Sheriff Riley and Chief Michaels liked to play “who's the biggest fish.”

“Mayor Dae O'Donnell!” Sheriff Riley joined us. He was a tall, stocky man with a full head of brown hair and brown eyes that narrowed when he looked at people, as though he was always trying to figure out what they were guilty of. “I was hoping to run into you while I was out this way. How are you? I hope your house made it through the storm in one piece. How's old Horace getting along? Still taking people out on his fishing boat? You know, I don't get enough time to fish nowadays. If I did, Horace would be the one I'd want to take me out.”

Sheriff Riley always made pleasant conversation, and his smile was friendly. It was his eyes that I didn't trust. I'd heard too many bad things about him. He'd worked with Gramps but never as a high-ranking officer. Gramps hadn't trusted him.

“It's good to see you too, Sheriff,” I said, giving him my hand and my big mayor's smile. “I'm sorry you had to come in on this.”