A Haunting Dream (A Missing Pieces Mystery) (21 page)

“I understand. I appreciate the favor. Can you do it or not?”

“I guess. But you owe me.”

“Dinner?”

“Dinner
and
a movie. And I don’t mean a video at home. And it has to be just the two of us.”

“You’ve got a deal.”

“What are you up to anyway, Dae?”

“Nothing. I just need to talk to my dad.” I tried not to look scared or nervous—not that I really thought he’d notice.

“Okay. But call me the minute you’re done. I’ll work on some excuse for being late.” He nodded to me and smiled. “You know, I wouldn’t do this for just anyone.”

“I know. Thanks, Tim.”

“You’re welcome. What’s this I hear about you dating Chris Slayton now? When did that happen?”

“I can’t explain right now.” I waved as I ran the rest of the way down the drive and into Duck Road. “Call you later.”

“One day when all of this craziness is over, Dae O’Donnell, it will be you and me. You’ll see!” he yelled back at me.

Incidents became rumors which became fact too easily in Duck, I thought. Normally I wouldn’t explain something like this to Tim or anyone else. But since he was doing me such a huge favor, I knew I’d tell him what had happened that made people think Chris and I might be together.

The Sailor’s Dream wasn’t far from home, though I had to admit a ride in the police car would’ve been faster than walking. I didn’t want anyone to see me and Tim together just then and ask the chief about it later.

I walked faster as I approached the Duck Shoppes but had made it only halfway past when Kevin’s old red pickup pulled up beside me.

I took a deep breath and prayed for patience. Some days it didn’t pay to know so many people who worried about me.

“I heard the news,” Kevin said, pushing open the passenger-side door. “Get in.”

“I’m going to talk to my dad,” I replied with a trembling smile. “I’ll call you when I’m done.”
Add Kevin to the call list
.

“I told you I’d go with you.”

“I need to do this alone, Kevin. I don’t want you prejudging him before he’s had a chance to defend himself.”

When my dad had first come back into my life, Gramps and Kevin had frequently told me he’d be in trouble again. I didn’t want that negative attitude creeping into the conversation I needed to have with him. He might not even realize that Guthrie and his gang hung out at the Sailor’s Dream.

“I guess I was wrong,” Kevin said. “I thought you were just going down there to see if Derek Johnson was around. There’s more going on, isn’t there? And it’s made you suspect your father is involved.”

I started walking again, ignoring him. He pulled the pickup into a parking space and got out.

“At least let me go with you. I won’t come in if you don’t want me to.”

My hour’s grace with the police was rapidly depleting; I did not have time to stand around and debate with him. I kept walking. He kept pace with me.

“Dae, I’m not going with you to turn your father over to the FBI. I’m going with you as your friend. If something else has happened, you can tell me. I think you know by now that you can trust me to keep my mouth shut.”

“All right. But even one I-told-you-so puts you off my friend list. I hope you realize that.” I told him about the scrap of paper in Port’s wallet. “I’m going to tell the chief when I see him in about an hour. I just wanted to give my dad a heads-up about everything.”

“Sure.”

“You don’t have to sound that way about it, Kevin. He only works at the Sailor’s Dream, you know. The owner of the bar could be involved. Or it might just be a meeting place for Guthrie’s men. I mean, if being a regular presence at a place is all it takes to implicate someone, people could say I’m involved in all of this too. I own Missing Pieces. Guthrie and Port were there last night.”

“Technically, you
are
involved,” he said.

“That doesn’t make me guilty of a crime. The police don’t suspect me of anything. But that’s only because I haven’t been in jail before. You know they’ll think my dad is involved, just because of his past.”

We had walked down the driveway toward the old, ramshackle bar that had been in business under one name or another for at least half a century. The parking lot was empty. Probably too early in the day for much bar traffic.

“I know he’s your father, Dae,” Kevin said. “I know you want to protect him. But you’re walking a very fine line between being an observer who wants to help out and an accessory after the fact.”

“You don’t have to worry.” I opened the side door to the bar, which I’d used many times since my dad had reentered my life. “My dad isn’t involved in this.”

The unmistakable sound of the cocking of a shotgun caught both of us by surprise. We looked down the sawed-off barrel as my dad yelled, “Get the hell out of here!”

Chapter 23

“I
t’s me, Dad!”

“Dae?” He moved the shotgun and looked around it. “God, I don’t know what I’m doing right now.” His eyes were bloodshot, and he had several days’ worth of stubble on his face. He looked terrible—as though he’d been waiting by the door for hours.

“I’m sorry.” He stood back from the door. “Come on in. It’s good to see you, Kevin.” He locked and bolted the door after us.

“I know I’m a mess.” He threw back a glass of whiskey. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I was trying to surprise some very bad men who have been visiting me lately.”

I arched a brow at Kevin. I wasn’t above saying
I told you so
. “I know there’s a problem,” I said to my dad.

“You do?”

I explained about finding the matchbook cover that Derek Johnson had dropped and the paper scrap in Port’s wallet. “Port Tymov is dead. We found him in a trash barrel this morning.”

My father’s face kind of crumpled in on itself. I’d never seen anyone that scared and desperate. “Oh no. Not Port
too
.”

At first, Kevin didn’t say anything. The look on his face was enough. His voice was calm when he finally spoke. “Start from the beginning, Danny. Tell us what happened. We might be able to help.”

Kevin and I declined a drink, but Dad helped himself to another whiskey. “You know, it seemed like such a good idea at the time. It was going to be some fast, easy money. One nice score that would last the three of us for years to come. I was going to use my share to buy this place, Dae, and make you proud of me. I thought I could go the whole route—chamber of commerce, outstanding businessman. The works.”

I don’t want to hear any more.

I had no choice.

It all came pouring out of my father like whiskey from the nearly empty bottle.

Chuck had been working for Guthrie—smuggling a few paintings, some antiques, some illegal treasure salvage items into Duck and on to the network that was set up to receive them. He’d needed the extra money after he ruined his reputation in a scam and the area real estate market dried up.

“He thought he could use the money to hold on until people forgot what had happened with that old lady he’d tried to swindle,” my father said. “But it was always just enough to keep him underwater with Guthrie. That’s the way it works. Guthrie charges a fee to work for him. I tried to explain that to Chuck, but he wouldn’t listen. You never come out ahead on something like that.”

“What was the great plan?” I asked, feeling like an observer at a funeral. “You were going to swindle Guthrie?”

He nodded and drank some more. “He’s got plenty, Dae. You should see how he lives. We’re fleas compared to him.”

But one afternoon, the story went, everything changed. Chuck and my dad took out Chuck’s boat, which was about to be repossessed, for one last cruise. They were planning to explore one of the tiny barrier islands that clustered around the Outer Banks. Some of them were no bigger than an acre or two, but some were very large. Most of them were rarely, if ever, visited.

“It was low tide when we got out there,” my dad said. “You know how some of the low tides are
really
low? It was like that. There was a large area of the sand exposed at the edge of the island. We found this skeleton of an old ship—you know, the bare wood ribs sticking out of the sand. It was falling apart. We got off Chuck’s boat and started poking around. There was all this stuff. It was crusted over. A lot of it, you couldn’t even tell what it was.”

He took another drink, his eyes burning with the memory. “We found a wooden chest. It wasn’t very big, but inside, we figured there was treasure. Salt water can’t hurt gold, right?”

“Was there gold in it?” I asked.

“Not gold. But there was a necklace—an amber necklace—all crusted over. There were some other trinkets too. One of the rings had a ruby as big as your thumb. We looked around some more. It was like we were high. I wish you’d been there. We found a brass hatch cover and when we cleaned it off, we could read the inscription:
Andalusia
.”

“The
Andalusia
?” I barely breathed the name, only wincing a little that their handling of the relics had probably destroyed their value. It was the first finding of any kind from the ship. “Are you sure?”

He nodded as he finished off the whiskey. “But that’s all we found. We got stinking drunk, and then Chuck told me he knew a man who could verify that the stuff came from the
Andalusia
.”

“Port,” I added.

“Exactly. We were pretty sure that there wasn’t anything else out there, but Chuck and I both knew how Guthrie feels about antiques. We thought we could show him one of the trinkets from the chest and then convince him to give us money to look for more treasure from the ship. Not that the ruby wasn’t worthwhile. But we sold that before we said anything to Guthrie. We both needed some cash.”

“What happened?” Kevin asked.

“It was a mistake.” The words were painful and bitter. “We thought we could get the money from Guthrie and split it up. We’d go and make a show out of looking for treasure, but of course we’d never find any. Guthrie would think we’d done what he’d paid us to do, so he wouldn’t get mad when we came up empty. It seemed like a brilliant idea.”

In the vision I’d had of Chuck’s death, Chuck said the items in the chest were real. Guthrie must have caught on right away, then killed Chuck for trying to cheat him. He searched his house, looking for treasure, only to find Betsy.

“That’s why Chuck was killed,” I said. “But what happened to the treasure you found?”

My dad shrugged. “There was no treasure besides the hatch cover, the ring and the amber necklace. The necklace and the hatch cover sold him. We figured we didn’t have to find anything else.

“Why didn’t you get out of town?” I asked the question over the lump that had formed in my throat. “You had to know you were in danger once Chuck was killed.”

“I don’t know. I’ve been a nervous wreck since Chuck died. I heard Guthrie came down personally. I knew I
should
leave. I thought I could still make it right, you know? But if he killed Port too, I’m a dead man.”

“I think Derek Johnson has been here watching you,” I said. “Does Guthrie know you were directly involved with the treasure?”

“I don’t know, Dae.” He lit a cigarette with shaking hands. “I don’t know what he thinks. Derek’s disappeared from the bar. I’ve been trying to talk to Guthrie, to explain what happened, but he won’t see me. I thought I could tell him that we tried but just couldn’t find anything else. We spent the money he gave us but we really tried to find something. If he doesn’t believe me, I’m dead. He’s got a long reach. There isn’t anyplace I can go that he won’t find me.”

“Do you have the money Guthrie gave the three of you to look for the treasure?” Kevin asked. “How much was it?”

“Two hundred thousand.” My father smiled and took a big drink. “Port had it. He put it somewhere for safekeeping until we could split it. Bad idea, I guess.”

I faced Kevin. “What do we do now?”

“He needs to turn this whole thing over to the FBI,” was his response.

“No way. I’m not talking to them. They’ll put me away even though I didn’t really do anything—except try to earn a decent living. That’s not a crime.”

“That’s debatable,” Kevin said drily. “But they’re the only ones I can think of who could protect you from Guthrie. Are you willing to go out on your own?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know what to do.” Dad looked at me. “What do you think, Dae? I guess I
did
try to scam money from Guthrie. But he’s a smuggler, a thief and a killer, right? They can’t arrest me for swindling him. Maybe I could even make some kind of deal.”

All of the angry words I’d thrown at Kevin and Gramps while I’d defended my father came back to haunt me.
Once a habitual criminal
, Kevin had said,
always a criminal.

I couldn’t think about my pride at that moment. Dad was in danger. We needed to get him out of there. The FBI seemed like the best idea to me.

“I think we should do what Kevin said,” I told him. “I don’t see any other option. Maybe if you tell them what you know, they can nail Guthrie and you’ll be safe.”

He put out his cigarette in a dirty ashtray. “Yeah. All right. I’ll tell them everything.”

There was one more thing. “Dad, do you know anything about Chuck’s daughter? I think Guthrie took her when he searched their house. She’s been missing since Chuck was killed. Do you have any idea where she could be?”

His face became a dark mask of anguish. “Honey, if Guthrie took Chuck’s little girl, she’s dead. There’s no money for ransom. He wouldn’t just keep her. I’m sorry. Her body will wash up somewhere—like Chuck’s. Let me get my stuff and we’ll go.”

His words were like daggers in my soul. Betsy
had
to be alive. He had to be wrong. She had to be out there waiting for us to rescue her.

After my dad had disappeared into the back room, Kevin took my hand. “He doesn’t know that for sure, Dae.”

I moved away from him. “I guess you were right. I guess you were
all
right. Once a criminal—always a criminal.” I couldn’t hold back the tears. They spilled down my face, and I sobbed for the loss of the father I thought I’d come to know.

Kevin put his arms around me, and I didn’t move away.

“I thought I could love him enough. That he’d want to have me around enough to be different,” I cried.

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“Maybe I’m just being stupid and naïve about Betsy. Maybe Ann was right to begin with. She’s probably dead somewhere, and I’m imagining that I can see her and touch her. I’m a fool. I don’t know what I’m doing.”

We both heard a door slam closed. I lifted my head and stared at Kevin. “Was that—?”

“I’m a fool too,” he snarled. He left me and ran into the back of the bar. When he came back alone, I knew my father was gone.

“It’s probably for the best.” I wiped my face and eyes on a bar napkin. “Guthrie probably would’ve killed him. This way, he’s safe. At least
someone
is safe.”

“Let’s get out of here,” Kevin suggested. “I don’t want to find out if Danny’s fears were justified.”

I followed his lead toward the side door where we’d come in. “Thanks.”

“For thinking we should run away?” He opened the door and glanced outside.

“For not saying
I told you so
.”

“Come on. I think we both need some coffee and a chance to mull over everything your father just told us.”

We walked down Duck Road in the deepening twilight, not talking. Ann called Kevin as we were getting close to the coffee shop. As they spoke, I remembered that the hour Tim had granted me was up a long time ago. I couldn’t let him down.

“Ann’s going to meet us at the coffee shop, and we can strategize what we should do next.” Kevin put his cell phone in his pocket.

“I have to call Tim and go see Chief Michaels.” I explained about our deal. “I’ll call you later, when it’s over.”

“Ann and I could come too,” he said.

“I think it’s better if I go alone.”

“What are you going to tell him?”

“I don’t know yet. I’m still working on that.”

“Dae, I—”

I smiled at him in the streetlight’s glow. “Don’t worry. I’ll be fine. I just have a lot of explaining to get through with some people who won’t mind saying
I told you so
.”

We parted there. It was hard for me not to want to hold on to him. I thought he looked the same about me. Maybe that was wishful thinking too. I couldn’t tell anymore.

I waited in the parking lot for Tim, dreading what was coming, despite my brave words to Kevin. I knew it was going to be bad. I wished I could avoid it all and just stay here with him. But I’d gone too far for that.

Tim had said he was on his way—complaining a little that it had taken me longer to get back to him than I’d said.

Ann ran across Duck Road and glanced at the coffee shop. “No coffee?” she asked. “Where’s Kevin?”

“He’s inside. I have to go down to the police station and talk to the chief. Or the FBI. Or both.”