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Authors: Joyce,Jim Lavene

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“Five thousand dollars?” I had no idea. I’d probably sat through that part of the lengthy ordinance creation—there were so many ordinances. I never expected to break any of them.

I’d thought it might be a few hundred and I could trade some labor at the Blue Whale for it. Five thousand was too much. I couldn’t let that stand. There had to be a way to make some quick cash to repay him. I might have to sell something from Missing Pieces that I didn’t want to get rid of.

“Maybe when the election is over, you could give him the money you’ve been spending on ads.” Jamie smiled sweetly but her words were sharp. “That one on the water tower and the one that goes by on the charter boat twice a day must’ve been expensive.”

“I don’t know about the charter boat.” Chris grinned. “But I charged your campaign agent enough to add some playground equipment to the park. Nothing personal, Mayor. You know you have my vote. I think an ad on the water tower should go for a premium price.”

What in the world was going on?
“That’s okay. Who paid for the water tower ad?”

“Your campaign agent. I have his card back at town hall. I have an email from him with the ad specifications too. I can look that up and email you, if you like.”

“That’s okay.” I didn’t want to tell him that I didn’t have a campaign agent. I wasn’t sure who would have made that claim.

“Sure.” Chris bent his head to kiss Jamie good-bye. “I think I can do lunch if you don’t mind waiting until one or so.”

“That’s fine. Let me know later.” She squeezed his hand.

I was so happy for them. Chris had been here for a few years guiding Duck’s growth and coming up with grants and ideas for wonderful projects like the new town hall and the expanded boardwalk.

Jamie had moved here to help her brother, Phil, save the coffee shop and had expanded the bookstore to include book clubs and other ingenious ideas. We would’ve lost our coffee shop and bookstore without her.

I walked with Chris up the stairs to the boardwalk that overlooked the Currituck Sound. A dozen businesses, including mine, Trudy’s and Shayla’s, were located here. Town hall was also in the small, cramped space.

That was one of the reasons everyone who worked at town hall was excited about the new building. We were all looking forward to larger spaces and a bigger meeting room for events. There would also be room for the Duck Police Department. That would get them out of the fire station farther down Duck Road.

I hated that I’d been instrumental in creating another setback to that progress. And now, besides finding a way to give Kevin five thousand dollars, I had something else to worry about.

I didn’t know anyone who had the kind of money Chris was talking about to pay for election ads. I wasn’t even sure it was legal to have someone else pay for them. That’s why my advertising had consisted of computer-generated eight-by-ten-inch posters all over town.

I probably needed to go to the election board for answers, but it seemed kind of late. The damage had been done. I had no idea what people were going to think about seeing my campaign ad on the water tower. I was pretty sure it wouldn’t be good.

Duck town clerk Nancy Boidyn was at her desk when Chris and I arrived at town hall. Nancy wasn’t from Duck, but she was like Kevin—it was as though she’d always been there. She appreciated the summers, even though she hated storms. She was one of my favorite people.

“Dae! It’s good to see you. What kind of trouble have you been into?”

Since I knew that she’d already heard, I didn’t bother with much explanation. “You know me—always poking around where I shouldn’t be.”

Her eyes widened dramatically as she put her arm around my shoulders. I smiled at the pink bunny slippers she wore in the office and her slick, short new haircut that made her dark eyes seem so dramatic. Chris went back into his closet-sized office to look for the information.

“Sweetie, I’m so sorry about the fine. You know I didn’t want to send it out, but I didn’t have any choice. Councilman Wilson is breathing down my neck on this. Chris’s too. He called a press conference for later today. I don’t know who he thinks is interested enough to come. I don’t think
Mayor looks for artifact without permit
is much of a news story.”

“I expected as much. It doesn’t matter. People who plan to vote for me know me. I don’t think this will change their minds. It might throw a few undecided votes to Mad Dog, but that’s all.”

Chris came out of his office with a business card in hand. “This is the man who bought the advertising for the water tower. Whoever he is, he must have deep pockets. Maybe he can loan you the money for Kevin’s fine.”

I looked at the card with a growing sense of foreboding. I wished I were wearing gloves to touch it. Sometimes my gift of sight could be a hazard. “Thanks. I appreciate it.”

I took the card from him. It was plain black letters on a white background.
Carlton Hughes.
Nothing fancy. Then the vision of its owner took over.

Chapter 5

“D
ae?” Nancy had a worried frown on her pretty face.
“Are you okay?”

I always get a little shaky when I have a vision from something or someone I’ve touched. In this case, it was appropriate to be unnerved by what I saw.

The card belonged to a publicist from an advertising firm located in Elizabeth City on the North Carolina mainland. It was innocuous enough in and of itself. It was the money behind it that left me with a bad taste in my mouth. Dillon Guthrie had hired the firm for me.

Dillon was a big-time smuggler. His base of operations was national, but he had a soft spot in his heart for the Outer Banks. He and I had met last year over the sale of a rare antique pistol. He’d offered me money then for my campaign, but I’d turned him down. It was blood money, as far as I was concerned.

I’d had a few emails from him since then, but they were mostly questions about items he’d purchased and wanted my opinion on. He swore he respected my integrity and had begun treating me like his private antique broker. I hadn’t actually done any deals with him, just given advice about antiquities.

Why had he decided to put money into my campaign, especially at this late date? It made me feel like he was a magician with something up his sleeve.

I thanked Chris and Nancy for their help, not sure if I’d already done so. I stuck the business card in my pocket and headed down to Missing Pieces.

The Currituck Sound was like a piece of blue glass, gulls dipping and wheeling over it. A few boats were out, their colorful sails trying to catch any early morning breeze. Two women were launching kayaks from the sandbar near the boardwalk. Ducks paddled around in the cold water at the base of the piers that supported the structure.

All of the shops were open. There were even some early shoppers enjoying the day and, hopefully, looking for something from Missing Pieces they couldn’t live without. I had a chance to make up for the time the shop had been closed.

August Grandin from the Duck General Store nodded curtly as he walked by me. He was never much of a talker. I waved to Trudy through the window of the Curves and Curls Beauty Spa as she worked on Annabelle Smith’s hair. They both waved back to me.

Then I was home.
Home!

It was always my first feeling when I opened the door to Missing Pieces and stepped inside. Maybe it was because I loved everything here. It would’ve all been at my house if it wasn’t for Gramps suggesting I open a shop and sell some of it. I was very comfortable here. I might have lived here, if it were possible. The owner of the Duck Shoppes had a strict “no living on the premises” policy.

I opened the blind on the door and let Treasure roam through the shop. My burgundy brocade sofa beckoned, and I didn’t even try to resist. I sat there in splendor and enjoyed my breakfast.

The sofa was a little old and a bit too big for the shop—Shayla frequently pointed this out to me. I didn’t care. It was perfect. I worked around it as needed. It was pleasant having it there, sharing stories with friends and visitors when they came to visit. Sometimes I even spent the night on it. There wasn’t a more comfortable sofa in the world.

That morning, even my sofa didn’t bring me peace. I realized I was going to have to find five thousand dollars’ worth of merchandise to sell and a ready buyer for it. Not allowing Kevin to pay for what he’d done for me seemed even more important than figuring out who my campaign benefactor was.

I knew there were several items worth that much. Some were worth much more. I took out a pair of silver bells that I had acquired and thought about them. The bells were made by monks in St. Augustine hundreds of years ago. There were actually three of them, but I hadn’t been able to locate the third bell in the last year.

I knew I had a ready buyer who had the cash for one of the bells. Dillon had wanted to purchase the bell I’d found. I had refused to sell to him. Oddly enough, he already had the second bell and had given it to me—with the stipulation that I would let him buy the bells from me when I found the third one.

It wasn’t a comfortable arrangement. I probably should have said no to it as I had his campaign contribution. I was weak and he knew how to trap me. I’d told myself that it didn’t matter because I could find the other bell and that would be the end of our business relationship.

I knew my bell was worth a lot more than five thousand dollars, especially since he had already had one. Maybe this had happened so I could free myself of him. He could buy my bell and take his own back. I’d be able to pay Kevin’s fine and Dillon probably wouldn’t be interested in me anymore.

I hated to give the bells up without finding the third. It wounded my collecting ego to let it go. But what was done, was done. Kevin had been fined because he’d been helping me. I had to get him out of the jam he was in.

I turned on my laptop and emailed Dillon to see if we could meet soon, before I changed my mind.

I sighed as the email left. Treasure jumped up on the counter and stared at me with a question in his beautiful green eyes.

“Yes, I’m a little sad about getting myself in this mess.” My answer to the cat’s unasked question seemed normal. It was as though I could tell what he was thinking. “Sometimes Kevin is right—I need to think a little more and act a little less.”

He meowed and twitched his tail before he jumped down.

“It’s not his fault. He wasn’t being mean by saying it. He was trying to keep me, and possibly himself, out of trouble.”

The shop door opened. It was Shayla and Flourine. Flourine was wearing a huge black hat that threatened to swamp her short body. I was fairly certain there was a large,
real
, raven on it. The bird looked as though it had been preserved through taxidermy.

“How are you doing today?” Shayla cast a knowing eye up and down my body. “Your chakras are better, though your aura is a little on the yellow side for you.”

Flourine agreed. “Did you have some asparagus last night? That’ll do it.”

“No. No asparagus.” I told them about the fine that was levied against Kevin. “I’m trying to come up with the money for him. It wasn’t his fault.”

“Fine?” Shayla held her head to one side. “Are you kidding me? After the two of you found that dead race car driver? Honey, they should be
paying
you for your services. Imagine the mess they would’ve had if they’d tried to do that geothermal thing
through
that car. It could’ve exploded. It would’ve been a disaster! No, ma’am. You need to take that to court. Sue the town.”

I could always count on Shayla for the alternate opinion. “Not many mayors sue their own town.”

“Then let Kevin do it. Don’t sit around worrying about helping him. He can take care of himself. You need to get some rest so you can ditch the witch.”

Not this again
.

“Thanks for your advice, but I think I’ll do things my way.” I smiled at Flourine. “How long are you planning on staying here with Shayla?”

“I’m here until we run that witch out of town, missy. I don’t cotton to witches taking over friends of the family.” She leaned close to me and tapped my forehead with one of her charms. “You hear me in there? You’re not fooling anyone.”

“Really, there isn’t a witch inside of me.” I hoped I sounded calm and reasonable about it. I didn’t want to make things worse. “Isn’t there some test you could do to prove that it’s just me?”

I thought it would be nice not to have them following me around and possibly telling voters that there was a witch inside me right before the election. I wasn’t sure about Shayla, but I wouldn’t have put it past Flourine.

Shayla conferred with her grandmother. “There are some tried and true ways to reveal a witch.”

“That’s right.” Flourine was pleasant enough about it. “We could have her walk on burning tree sap. Or tie her to a tree out in the woods and see if birds peck out her eyes. They won’t abide a witch, you know.”

“Let me get back to you on that.” Shayla smiled. “I’m sure there are less grisly ways of finding out the truth. But a word of warning, Maggie Madison. If we come for you, you’re through on this or any other plane.”

“That sounds fair.” I swallowed hard. “Anything except birds or burning. Nothing painful. Or that could cause permanent damage. Let me know what you find out.”

“Oh, we will.” Flourine squinted at me. “Just you watch and see. That was a call for help if I ever heard one.”

I was glad to see them go. I had wanted to meet Shayla’s grandmother for years after listening to stories about her. Now I wished I hadn’t been so eager.

Maggie traded places with me, obviously afraid of Shayla and Flourine’s threats. “Would they really do those things? Even in my time, such things were not considered.”

“You don’t have to worry. They aren’t going to do anything. I’ll take care of it.”

Once I was back where I should be, I worried about it. I didn’t believe that Shayla and Flourine had any real magic. What if I was wrong?

I straightened up the shop and dusted everything. It didn’t take long to get everything in order. I switched out some jewelry in the front case with new items from the storage room. I liked my customers to see fresh merchandise when they came in.

A man from Raleigh came in and bought a few Duck souvenirs. Another woman came in and asked for directions to the Hatteras lighthouse. Of course she was on the wrong end of the island for that. Instead, I told her how to go to the lighthouse in Corolla.

Stan, the UPS guy, brought a few packages in with his usual smile and joking manner. Treasure hissed at him, not liking his brown uniform. It was always the same with him and Stan. I had tried explaining that Stan was a nice person. Treasure didn’t care.

The email from Dillon came in right before noon. I was about to close the shop and go to lunch. I checked for his answer one last time after a dozen other tries.

“Meet you tonight. Eight
P.M.
Missing Pieces. D.”

So that was that.

I knew he’d be thrilled to have my silver bell for a mere five thousand dollars. He would’ve paid a lot more than that last year when he’d first offered for it. It was worth at least ten times that. The three bells together were estimated to be worth more than five million dollars.

I was responsible for Kevin’s debt and I was going to pay it, I reminded myself. I put the bells away before I could change my mind. I put Treasure in my bag and locked the door to the shop behind me.

“Dae O’Donnell,” a familiar voice hailed me as I stepped out on the boardwalk. “I was just heading in to see you.”

It was Jake Burleson, a wild horse rescuer from Corolla. He’d rescued me from a bad situation and we’d spent some time together—only as friends. He popped in at the house from time to time to eat dinner with me and Gramps.

“Great. I’m going out for lunch. You can come too.”

He smiled and put his cowboy hat back on his blond hair. He was tall and lean, muscular in that whipcord fashion that some men have. He lived his life off the grid—no phone or TV. He was a man from another time.

“I would never turn down that invitation.” He held his arm out for me. I slipped my hand into it and we walked down the boardwalk together. “Where are you headed for lunch?”

“I was thinking about eating a sandwich out here and enjoying the weather before it turns again.”

“Sounds good to me.”

We ordered sandwiches and drinks at the little snack shop. They were low on everything since they’d be closing for the winter that week. Only the larger retail stores stayed open through the cold months. Most would open again in March or April.

Jake and I sat at a wood table and chairs, weathered by air and sea to a soft, gray patina, overlooking the water. A breeze had begun ruffling the sound, and the number of sailboats had increased. The smell of the water mingled with the odor of cooking onions from Wild Stallions Grill at the other end of the boardwalk.

We talked about a new wild horse he’d adopted. This one was lame and probably would’ve been shunned by the herd. The wild horse conservation group kept an eye on those types of situations. People like Jake took those horses and tried to nurse them back to health.

“I have a favor I’d like to ask of you, Dae.” He finished his sandwich. “I found something remarkable at an old homestead that’s on my property. Could you come out and take a look at it?”

“Sure. I’d be glad to.”

“I can come and get you one evening and make
you
supper for a change. I’m not a gourmet cook like your boyfriend, Kevin, but I make a mean plate of beans you won’t forget anytime soon. Bring Horace, if you like.”

I laughed at his description. There was no comparison between him and Kevin in any department. Jake was like a crazy wild breeze coming in from the Atlantic. He smiled a lot and was a little on the edge of the rest of the world.

Kevin was stable, dependable. He was world-weary because he’d seen so much during his time with the FBI. He’d created a new life for himself here, but the memories of that past life were always in his eyes.

“That sounds good—except for you picking me up. I’m not a horse person. Last time I rode back from Corolla with you, I could barely walk the next day.”

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