Better Than Gold (7 page)

“Take you up on a drive down to Portland when you get off work. I need to take that blouse back to the department store.”

“Yeah, and we can stop at the grocery mega-store.”

“And I can fill my cupboards while I have a couple of pennies to rub together.”

“Yum. Frozen dinners, bread and peanut butter.” Monique grabbed another handful of clothing to be sorted and hung in its place. “And more yogurt.”

“Go ahead and mock my eating habits. I hate yogurt, but it’s good for me.”

The door behind her chimed and Mia turned as Officer Gardner entered. His look of happiness seemed to fade when he saw Mia, but he strode in quickly and dropped his armful of laundry on the counter. Monique smiled at him and he grinned at her.

“Tomorrow after four all right with you, Lenny?”

“Yes, ma’am. See you then.” With that he spun, acknowledged Mia and marched out.

Mia danced around in a circle. “Hot damn.”

Monique turned away with the bag of Lenny’s uniforms. “Say, where is your handsome doctor, professor, outsider man?” she asked, her back still toward Mia.

“Oh, no, you don’t.” Mia scrambled around the counter. “What’s up between you and Lenny?”

Monique made a scrunched-up face. “A date, all right? We’re going on a date.”

“Oh, my, God.” Mia hugged her over the bag of laundry.

“I know he’s not the super-handsome, high-powered big shot I always thought I should find.” Monique looked at her with almost an apology on her face.

Mia gently slipped an arm around her friend’s shoulder. “Listen, the night we had the lobster and Lenny hauled my butt to the police station, he was a real gentleman. He’s a nice guy but all the while we were at your house, he was giving you such a look, a lovesick look. And you are so well suited, therefore, I am officially thrilled for the both of you.”

“Really, you thought he was nice? You thought— Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Me? With all my great experience in finding Mr. Right, should tell you who to pick?” Mia rubbed her hands together. “So where are you going?”

“He’s taking me to the Butterfly on Thursday.”

“All the way to Bangor.”

“When he called me after you left, he was like the Lenny we knew as kids. You know, funny and interesting.”

“Let’s see. You work days and he works evenings. Many a marriage has been saved by opposite shifts.”

Monique slugged her on the arm.

“Ouch.”

“Marriage. Shut up.”

Mia hugged her friend who squeezed back hard. “Follow your heart, sweetie.”

“So, seriously, where’s your man?” Monique asked.

“He went to the museum.”

Monique answered with a burst of laughter. “You sent him by himself. That’ll give him a dose of
see what ya get for messing around in a small town’s business
.”

“Heather’s probably got him pinned in a corner by now while she recites her lineage.”

The door opened with a whoosh and a serious ringing of the bell and Mr. Wetherbee breezed in. “You still here?” This time he greeted the two of them with a great big grin and disappeared quickly between the beaded curtains.

“He’s been to lunch at Mandrel’s and then stopped for a little nip at Braven’s,” Monique said as she smiled. “He doesn’t drive there, I gotta give him that. Even in the winter.”

Mia rubbed her stomach. “Lunchtime?”

“You can have one of my strawberry yogurts.”

“Thanks, but I’m off to find Chief Montcalm to see if he and his people can help me keep the town out of my building. Thompson and O’Donnell have been hanging around.”

“I’ll be headed over to Pirate’s Roost myself to dig for treasure as soon as you pull out of the parking lot,” Monique said with a smirk.

Mia gave her friend a backward wave as she headed out the door. “I expect Lenny reports often.”

Her phone started to ring as she was getting into her car. Markham Construction, the caller ID said. They probably wanted to confirm when they could begin work at Pirate’s Roost. Monday might be possible if Dr. MacCarey was done with the site on Friday and she and her crew could prep on the weekend.

“Hi, this is Mia.”

“Mia, this is Jennifer at Markham Construction.”

Mrs. Markham. She didn’t call often. “Hi, Jennifer. Are you calling about next week?” She played through her head the begging and pleading she’d have to do to get Rufus, Stella and Charlie to work on the weekend, but she knew she could get at least two of them. She’d just do the rest. Heck. She didn’t need sleep.

“I am. We’ve heard you’ve stopped work on Pirate’s Roost again. We’re sorry to hear that.”

Fate twisted painfully in her chest. How had they found out? That’s right. Markham’s brother is married to a woman who used to live in Bailey’s Cove.

“We should be able to get back in soon.”

“I’m sorry. We can’t take that chance. We need to reschedule.” Jennifer’s tone was sympathetic but firm, that’s why they had her make this kind of call.

“No, Jennifer, I can get the place ready.”

“You know we’ve done this before a couple of times. The last time, we ended up laying off a few people. We need to move on to the next job.”

“Can you wait a day or two and then cancel my job if we need to then?”

“I’m sorry, Mia, I really am.”

“Mrs. Markham, can you give a tentative to the next job and keep mine on the schedule?”

There was a long pause. “I can try to do that. Although, if there are any difficulties, I’ll have to call you back.”

Mia flopped into her car and tossed the phone on the passenger seat. She banged her head on the headrest a few times and then started her car and headed for the Bailey’s Cove police station.

CHAPTER SEVEN

A
S
IT
TURNED
out, Mia wasn’t able to be squeezed into Chief Montcalm’s schedule until two o’clock the next day. To fill her time, she’d spent Monday afternoon talking with the bankers in person and generally trying her best not make herself crazier than she already was. The bankers, at least, seemed willing to give her the leeway she needed, mostly because they were only postponing the draw on the lines of credit.

After she and Monique returned from their shopping trip late in the evening, they drove past Pirate’s Roost just to check on things. The building was fine.

In bed, when she had finally banished pirates, bills and bankers from her mind, the image of Daniel MacCarey seeped into her head and would not leave. His handsome face, his quirky humor that so meshed with hers, the dark shadows of past wounds in his eyes.

When she couldn’t sleep, she tried scolding herself. The two of them were passing ships, after all—no matter how sexy his lips were, how beautiful his eyes were, how much more he could make her feel with a look than Rory ever had with his whole arsenal.

She’d spent Tuesday morning with the useless minutiae that had seemed so vital to her construction project a week ago, and she hoped dearly would be important again. A lunch of pineapple and plain yogurt because they were all she could get down, and the time had finally arrived to leave for the police station.

None too soon. The teens, Mickey and Tim, had been loitering again that morning on her drive-by. She wanted to padlock them to their desks at school, but she remembered what it was like to be inside when spring warmed things up, and this day was a peach.

The police station was on the opposite end of town from the old church and the site of Pirate’s Cove stood almost at the midpoint between the two. The “new” section of town, built in the 1950s, included the police station, the town hall, the new church and the town’s most popular café, Mandrel’s, along with a motel and several shops.

“Chief Montcalm has somebody in there, Mia, but he should be finished any minute,” Melissa, the receptionist said when Mia arrived at the station. “He said he’s glad you’re here, he has something to discuss with you also.”

Melissa Long had been several years ahead of Mia at South Harbor high school. Her naturally flaming-red hair and starkly pale skin had made her the most popular cheerleader, prom queen, student council president, et cetera, in the school’s history. She had married one of the Long “boys” whose family owned the grocery store down near the upholstery shop.

“Thanks, I’ll be in the waiting room,” Mia said after she finished filling in and signing the logbook.

The woman nodded and smiled. Melissa had a sad smile these days, as if she had been expecting more out of life and hadn’t gotten it. That was the kind of look that seemed to precede people’s deciding to move away from Bailey’s Cove. “Missy” had been an artist and her yearbook said she wanted to own her own studio. Maybe she would someday, right here in Bailey’s Cove. Prosperous small towns could use more than one of almost anything.

As she approached the six-chair waiting room, Mia could smell the burnt coffee. She helped herself anyway and poured in a hefty dose of powdered creamer.

“Pour two if you don’t mind.”

She nodded at the chief’s words and upturned a second cup.

“White stuff?” she asked as she looked over her shoulder. He seemed to fill the doorway even though he wasn’t a big guy.

“Black. Please.”

He took the cup from her and nodded his thanks. “Let’s go to my office.”

She followed him across the waiting room and the lobby, feeling as though she were scurrying after his measured stride.

In his office, she and the chief took up their usual positions on opposite sides of the old desk. Mia remained silent. Chief Montcalm had something to say and she wanted to find out what it was before she started to run off at the mouth, as Monique said, and forgot to listen.

“How are things going with Dr. MacCarey?”

“We sort of have this understanding right now. He knows what I need. And I know he’s doing what the site requires based on the significance that the person in my wall played in history. I assure you, Chief, there have been no fisticuffs—yet.”

The chief gave a faint smile and Mia realized she had just jabbered. She closed her mouth and folded her hands in her lap.

Chief Montcalm took his cue. “You wanted to see me and there is always a good reason.”

“I’m worried about people inviting themselves into my building, worried about the burial site.”

He nodded and jotted something down before he looked up and said, “I have read the reports of what happened here during the last treasure frenzy, so I have an idea where your fear is grounded.”

“My dad was a kid,” Mia said as she leaned forward in her chair. “He remembers the fires and the crowds. Says the thing he remembers most is being afraid. Do you think it could happen again?”

“It would be easy to say no, but today’s communication capabilities might help or hinder. It’s hard to say. We have already increased coverage in the area of your building, but please let me know if you need anything more.”

“I’m very grateful, Chief, because thanks to social media, I can see the information about treasure in Bailey’s Cove splashed across the world in seconds and having a come-one-come-all effect.”

“Speaking of the media, I have some old records dating back to the earliest era of the town, which you will not have seen.”

“You’ve got records? Accurate records of what went on around here when the town was established?”

“I suspect old doesn’t necessarily mean accurate. They are whatever the person writing them needed them to be at the time.”

“But I thought all the records were burned in that fire in the fifties.”

“The official records did get destroyed. These are private logs akin to a diary. They have been maintained and handed down from one person to the next among the highest-ranking law enforcement authorities in the town at the time. These records might have information germane to the remains in your wall.”

“Do they tell what happened to Liam Bailey?”

“Liam Bailey initiated the log.”

“No-o-o.” Mia snapped forward in her chair in disbelief. “Not the man himself, dead two hundred years. Wow.”

She watched Chief Montcalm’s face for any hint the man was kidding—as if—and continued. “It makes a kind of sense. He must have been used to keeping a log. He had been a ship’s captain for somewhere around a decade. Why didn’t I know about these records?”

“The tradition has been for the records to be held close and passed on when the next person in line is deemed fit to be the keeper.”

“So they didn’t burn up with the official records.” The wheels in her head began to spin wildly. “What’s in them? Can I read them?”
Stop
. “Sorry. Please go on.”

“Many kept the records in their homes, so when the town hall and the police station buildings burned, these records were safe. You are the first person I’ve told about them.”

“I’m honored.” By now about a million thoughts had flooded in and she wanted to voice them all so her head wouldn’t explode, but she kept her mouth shut and waited for him to continue.

“I’ve had them almost three years. They haven’t been a priority until now. I’ve scanned them, but I have not been able to give them the time they deserve. I’d appreciate if someone could look through them and find out if there is anything that any of us needs to know.”

“I’ll do it. How many are there?”

“Thirty-two boxes and because there are so many and they are of historical value I’ve called in someone to help.”

“I’m looking forward to reading them.” Who? she thought.

“Last week I had them put into a storage unit here in the police station. Building codes are much better now and I thought them valuable enough to use the town’s resources to safeguard them.”

Mia leaned back and the chair squeaked. “I thought I knew this town’s secrets.”

The intercom on the chief’s desk blinked.

“Excuse me,” he said to Mia as he picked up the handset. “Yes.”

He listened for a moment.

“Send him in, please.” The chief looked up at Mia. “Dr. MacCarey is joining us.”

A sudden thrill shot through her, making her heart beat faster and her whole body tense with anticipation at the thought of seeing Daniel MacCarey again. She measured her breaths and stood because the chief did.

Daniel appeared in the doorway every bit as good-looking as she had led herself to believe. He was dressed as he was yesterday, but the sweater was a lighter color today. His dark eyes met hers and held, stopping her breath altogether. She looked away and sidestepped to the other chair.

Somehow, she needed to get a grip.

* * *

T
HE
SIGHT
OF
Mia standing beside the desk in the chief’s office sent crazy thoughts rushing through Daniel’s head, and if he had to be honest...more.

He had not slept any better last night than he had most others, but last night his reasons were different. He’d spent the time trying not to think about Mia Parker. Seeing her bright and beautiful this afternoon had him thinking he’d like to see her every day, every morning.

Those kinds of thoughts would not benefit either of them, and yet, when the chief called and asked him to come to the station to meet with Ms. Parker and him, he could not get there fast enough.

Now she was standing in front of him, her blue pea coat hanging open, and today she had a green stone hanging on a fine gold chain around her neck. The chain disappeared under her red scarf and he found himself wanting to trace its golden path with his fingertip.

“Please sit.” Chief Montcalm snapped the spell.

Before he sat, Daniel pulled the chair out at a better angle, so he could see the chief and Mia as they spoke.

“Dr. MacCarey, Ms. Parker and I have been discussing a set of files that have been maintained by law enforcement officers since the early days of Bailey’s Cove.”

“Private files? Secret records?” The idea did more to capture his interest than the morning he’d spent teaching the three best students in the anthropology program how to examine and catalogue the remains he had taken to the university. They definitely sounded better than the time he spent in the company of Heather Loch. He’d have to discuss that particular interaction with Ms. Parker.

“Secret is a term that would most likely be applied using modern standards. They are closely guarded. I’ve glanced through the files and I believe the contributors kept them private for their own reasons and for the sake of the town.”

“Did they talk about treasure?” Mia asked.

“Although I found no specific reference to treasure, some of the information, even in the modern files, could incite treasure hunting. In today’s world, widespread speculation about the presence of treasure in Bailey’s Cove could—” He paused for a moment. “I’m going to quote...‘lead to an invasion of people bent on destruction that could rip out the heart of the town.’”

Mia sat up straighter and then moved forward on her chair. “Isn’t that—um—harsh, Chief? I always thought as long as a few of us remained we could prevent complete—er—death and destruction.” Her voice held a note of distress, but her face remained a practiced calm.

“The words were quoted by the chief of police only eight years ago, and first written by a sheriff in 1869.”

“Around the time the citizens voted to change the name of the town,” Daniel said. He had at least gotten the name-change time frame from the museum.

The chief folded his hands on the desk’s green blotter. “I’m a newcomer, an outsider, but through the records I reviewed and talking to folks like Ms. Parker, I’ve been able to see some of what makes this town live and breathe. And I might add cautions of death and destruction in the log myself.”

Daniel glanced at Mia to see her eyes widen.

“Do you really think things could get that bad?” she asked.

“Even if that never happened—” Chief Montcalm paused and looked at each of them. “The town’s heart is slowly dying.”

Mia nodded.

“And you think I—we—can help?” Daniel asked.

“The best I can offer is access to the records for the two of you.”

“When can we start?” she asked.

“You can begin anytime you want.”

“Now would be good for me.” She stood, as did both men.

“Melissa will show you where the records are stored.” The chief leaned forward and placed his hands on the desk. “She does not know what they are and I’d like you to share the contents only when you deem it necessary. And please confine your time in the records room to the day shift, eight to four-thirty. It’s best to keep civilians confined to the public rooms during the off shifts.”

“We understand,” Mia said.

“Yes, of course, and thank you, Chief Montcalm.” Daniel leaned forward to shake hands with the chief.

“Thank you, Chief.” Mia took his strong handshake, as well.

The chief walked them out to the reception desk where he handed a key to Mia and instructed Melissa to show them where to find the special storage room.

Melissa gave Daniel a longer once-over than she had when he’d arrived in answer to Chief Montcalm’s summons and then she gave Mia a look that Mia reacted to by pursing her lips and shaking her head.

Daniel thought he might like the people of this town.

Florescent light fixtures lined the dingy ceiling of the basement hallway. The walls were an institutional shade of green tiles. Scuffed black and old white linoleum covered the floor.

“Thanks, Melissa,” Mia said as she inserted a key into the lock of a door labeled No Admittance and reached in to turn on the lights.

Melissa craned around Mia to see into the room and was clearly disappointed by what she saw. The twelve-by-ten-foot room had the same green walls and black-and-white tile as the hallway, though the room’s floor tiles were brighter.

One small table with two chairs sat to the right of the door. On the table were two pads of paper, a pair of sharpened pencils, a magnifying glass and two boxes of gloves, one large and one small, and a gooseneck lamp. A floor lamp stood across the room near several stacked plastic boxes. “We can take it from here, Melissa, and thank you,” Daniel said to the lingering secretary.