A Haunting Dream (A Missing Pieces Mystery) (27 page)

BOOK: A Haunting Dream (A Missing Pieces Mystery)
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Scott scratched his head but kept up with me. Branches and other debris cracked under my feet. I heard more cars arrive in the parking lot behind us. Someone had brought dogs too. They began barking and baying as they let them out of the vehicles.

“Ann?” I called out into the darkness. “Can you feel her?”

“No. I wish I could. Can you?”

“No. But I think I know where the boat is.”

“Let me see.”

I felt her presence in my mind and tried to form the image of the old boat and the area around it. “That’s where she is. Can you see it?”

“Not yet. I see your light coming my way. Are you sure it’s this direction?”

“Yes. Absolutely.”

We kept going. Scott answered a call on his radio and explained what was going on, where we were. He had the new searchers spread out in the direction we hadn’t taken. “Sorry, Mayor. Just making sure. Not that I doubt you.”

“That’s okay. Let’s just find her.”

We pushed through an area littered with an old stove and what was left of someone’s living room furniture. Kevin stumbled but regained his footing without falling. Scott’s light wavered as he stepped into a hole in the sand.

For just a minute, it was like I was a girl again. It was late spring, just before school let out for the summer. The weather was warm, and I was walking home, goofing around like usual. I stopped to look at the old boat. The sunlight was golden on it, slanting through the trees that had grown up around it.

And when I opened my eyes, there it was.

“I found it!” I yelled. “Let’s get her out!”

Kevin and Scott came up beside me. Ann ran through the brush as though angels guided her feet.

The boat was small. There was no reason to climb on it and risk collapsing the structure further. We located the hatch where Derek had dropped food to her. I leaned over and opened it. “Betsy?” I called into that damp, dark place.

“Hello?” she called back. “Please help me. Please get me out of here.”

The rain started falling even harder. Scott held the light steady. My heart was pounding, breath coming faster as I prepared to lift her out of her prison.

Before I could move, Ann made a calculated leap into the hole in the boat. Like a snake, she slipped inside and disappeared—emerging a minute later with Betsy in her arms.

Scott shone the light on them. Everyone was crying. Or maybe it was just the rain.

Kevin took Betsy from Ann so she could get out. Scott and I helped Ann make the more difficult leap out of what was left of the boat, then Scott called for an ambulance. Betsy clung so tightly to Kevin that there was no way to separate them. He walked back to the parking lot with her in his arms.

Still in the dark area of the woods, Ann and I trailed behind Scott and Kevin. Just as we reached the clearing and light of the parking lot, we fell against each other and sobbed.

“She’s
alive
,” Ann gulped and tried to talk. “You were right. She’s alive.”

“She is.”

“You don’t know. No one will
ever
know how much I needed her to be alive.”

We stared into each other’s eyes, having shared an intimate bond most people would never understand. “I know,” I sobbed. “I know.”

We all rode to the hospital, Kevin, Ann and I in the ambulance with Betsy, and the rest following behind. We had a full police escort all the way, lights flashing and sirens blaring. People who saw us pass must have thought the president or some other dignitary was on their way out of town.

When we arrived at the emergency room, hospital officials were waiting for us. So was Melinda. They all ran out to the ambulance. Ann and I stepped out before they moved Betsy.

Melinda took one look at her daughter’s face and collapsed on the pavement. The hospital staff were so focused on the little girl, they didn’t notice. Ann and I helped Melinda up and held her between us as we walked into the hospital. Melinda was sobbing so hard she could hardly breathe. “Oh my God!” she cried out. “Betsy! My baby is still alive!”

We sat her down on the bench near the door. There was nothing more we could do but wait as the medical team began examining Betsy. But no one wanted to go home. We were exhausted, drained—and jubilant.

The waiting-lounge coffeepot emptied quickly as we poured paper cup after paper cup of the strong, dark brew. It was awful, but at least it was warm.

Surprisingly, someone had thought to call the media. It was even more of a surprise when a reporter from the TV station in Virginia Beach showed up. Despite my flattened hair and sandy clothes (perhaps this was a new public look for me), Chief Michaels and Agent Kowalski thought I should be the one to talk to them.

It was a little strange—the reporter stood in front of the camera to describe the scene, then went behind it. He was wearing a tie and sports shirt with khaki shorts. No one could see the shorts.

“How are you feeling at this moment, Mayor O’Donnell?”

“I guess I’m feeling lucky and blessed to have found Betsy Sparks. Everyone in Duck has been helpful in looking for her the past few days.”

“And she’s unharmed?”

“We don’t know yet. I rode with her to the hospital. She seemed in good spirits, and she was happy to be going home.”

“What about her kidnappers? Is there any word on who did this?”

I suddenly had bookends. Chief Michaels pressed in close on my left, Agent Kowalski on my right. I didn’t realize until after we were done talking that Sheriff Riley had sneaked up behind me to get in on the shot too.

“We believe we will have the kidnappers in custody by the morning,” Agent Kowalski said. “We’ve had a good working relationship with the Duck PD and the county throughout the entire experience.”

The reporter nodded and turned off the camera. “Thanks. Anyone know if there’s coffee inside?”

“Good job, Mayor.” Chief Michaels shook my hand as though he was expecting someone to take our picture.

The reporter was already inside, so I assumed his praise was genuine.

“It wasn’t only me. You should congratulate Ann Porter too. We couldn’t have found Betsy without working together.”

The chief, Agent Kowalski and I—Sheriff Riley had left pouting after he wasn’t allowed to speak on camera—went inside to look for Ann. It was obvious to me that she wasn’t in the large crowd still waiting in the lobby for word of Betsy’s condition.

I saw Kevin and left the chief and Kowalski by the door. “Have you seen Ann?”

“She’s gone. I think she went out another exit. She said she was taking a car back to the inn.”

“I wish I’d gone with her. I don’t think she’ll be able to find a taxi this time of night.”

He smiled. “I don’t think she meant a taxi when she told me she was taking a car. She has a skill set that makes finding a taxi irrelevant.”

“I see.”

“She was so happy to find Betsy,” he said. “For a few minutes, she was like she used to be. I hope she can find what she’s looking for.”

I searched his face. He knew she was leaving. “I’m sorry, Kevin. I know you wanted it to work out.”

“We weren’t the same people anymore, Dae. That time and those people are gone forever. Going to New York won’t change that.”

“She said pretty much the same thing.”

“I’m amazed that she talked to you about it. I think you two bonded there at the end.”

“It’s what happens when you get into someone else’s mind, I guess. It was like I was thinking what she was thinking. I’ve never experienced anything like it.”

“And never want to again?”

“I think it would be great between the right two people. It’s very intimate.”

I didn’t look at him as we spoke. I didn’t want to discuss what was going to happen in the future. Tonight was for Betsy. That was all that mattered. Everything else could wait till tomorrow.

The attending physician came out of the exam room and told us that, except for some dehydration, Betsy seemed to be fine. After that announcement, a celebration erupted. All the Duck rescue people began cheering, and another round of hugging and backslapping went on.

Kevin hugged me tight, and I let myself relax into it, closing my eyes, enjoying the smell and feel of him against me. I wondered if our relationship would ever go back to the way it had been before Ann came. I had no hard feelings about what had happened. Kevin had done what was necessary and honorable, as I knew he would.

Once the level of excitement died down, the crowd quickly began to thin out. There was a wreck on Duck Road that required the EMS workers and ambulance. Chief Michaels nodded to me and asked if I needed a ride home since I’d come in the ambulance.

I glanced at Kevin but didn’t want to go into that yet. “Sure, Chief. That would be great. Thanks.”

We left right away. I had to listen to Kowalski and the chief argue all the way back to Duck. Each of them had different ideas on whether the search for the culprits should continue.

“We don’t have either of the two suspects in custody,” Kowalski raged. “How will that look on the record?”

“We got the girl back. We know who killed Sparks and Tymov,” the chief argued. “If those two are still in Duck, we’ll find them. If not, either you or the sheriff will.”

“And you’re satisfied with that? Your resident psychic tells you what happened. There aren’t even any arrests. You can live with that?”

“I’m not as worried about my record as you are, Agent. The whole thing will come out in the wash. Always does. As for my resident psychic, you were plenty willing to let that Porter woman use her gifts to help you out.” The chief smiled at me in the rearview mirror. “Our mayor is a gem. I’ll take her help any day—especially when I can’t figure out what’s going on by myself.”

I smiled, but I knew this was only talk that came from a brief success. The next time something came up that I thought the chief could use my help on, we’d be right back to square one. Still, I was surprised and pleased that he’d made those flattering comments about me to Agent Kowalski. Maybe he really was starting to acknowledge my gifts.

Chapter 30

A
fter Betsy’s rescue, life in Duck resumed its leisurely
pace. There was still cleanup to be done from the tail end of Hurricane Kelly, but most of it was small stuff. Duck was shaping up nicely for the Jazz Festival at the end of November, a few weeks away. The whole town seemed eager to put the kidnapping and related murders behind them and look forward to this annual event.

I couldn’t help thinking about Jackie and Derek as I volunteered to assist with food, musical groups and decorations for the festival. The FBI had packed up and abandoned the police station—to the satisfaction of Duck’s finest. They’d left no word as to whether they’d found Jackie and Derek or made an arrest for the murders of Chuck and Port.

It was unnerving, thinking Jackie and Derek could still be skulking around out there. But life had to go on, and what better way than a festival?

The Jazz Festival was a big deal, Duck’s last hurrah before the long winter lull. In the days and weeks that followed it, many shops and restaurants would close, and people would migrate to Florida and other sunny areas. Those who stayed would spend the chilly months watching a lot of TV and doing a lot of home cooking until spring.

There were about a hundred festival committees I could’ve signed up for, but I decided to limit my responsibilities this year. I still had my election to think about. The Chamber of Commerce Barbecue had been rescheduled. The event was too important to cancel completely. Then there were flyers to put up and supporters to impress. As Gramps said, campaigns couldn’t run on hot air alone.

I’d had no more visions of dead Chuck. He was finally laid to rest in his hometown of Galax, Virginia. Betsy was out of the hospital and flew back with her mother for the funeral. She’d survived her ordeal in remarkably good health and spirits, according to the doctor who’d treated her.

Betsy had given me and Gramps the black kitten. We called him Treasure because of what I’d told Gramps was in the box the night I’d brought the kitten home. Melinda and Betsy had taken the mother cat to their new home.

I smiled when her mother called me a week later, wondering if Betsy and I could meet. At least Jackie had been truthful with me, it seemed, about not wanting to hurt the girl. Jackie was a self-confessed killer and a thief, but she’d spared me and Chuck’s daughter. She couldn’t be all bad.

Melinda had come back from Virginia after the funeral to collect Betsy’s clothes and toys and sign the papers to sell Chuck’s house. They would be in Duck for only one night. “Betsy would really like to meet you in person. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all. I’m at Missing Pieces on the boardwalk, and I even have some tea and homemade peanut butter cookies. Come on over.”

Melinda said they were on their way. I looked around the shop, glad it was presentable again. Of course, so many of my treasured pieces were missing. Insurance could compensate me for their monetary value—though I could only guess at that. But I’d never be able to truly replace what had been destroyed, since so many of the items were one of a kind.

I tried not to dwell on it. I was the one who’d made up the story about my father possibly hiding Jackie’s money here. I was the one who’d sent the couple back to pillage my belongings. But in doing so, I’d managed to save my life—and buy us the time we needed to find Betsy.

It was worth the loss, I told myself during the good moments. The rest of the time I tortured myself by considering all the other, possibly smarter, things I could have said to Jackie and Derek.

After putting on the tea and arranging the cookies on a pretty, flowered plate, I sat down on the repaired burgundy brocade sofa and stared out at the gray sky over the sound.

I hadn’t heard from my father since his hasty departure. I thought if he was still alive that he might try to let me know. Yes, he’d left abruptly—but only because he feared for his life. I couldn’t fault him for that.

That he’d reverted to his past way of life was a disappointment. Still, I hoped he’d survived and we’d have a chance to meet again. There was an invisible bond between us that I didn’t want to lose. I felt it in my heart where my memories of my mother lived. Danny belonged there too.

I hadn’t seen Betsy since the night Ann and I had freed her. She was like a ray of sunshine when she walked into the shop, clean and wearing a pretty pink sweater and jeans. She was carrying the doll she’d dropped at her house the night she was kidnapped. Her cheeks were rosy from the brisk November wind.

“I know you don’t really remember Miss O’Donnell,” Melinda began with an apologetic smile for me. “She’s one of the people who helped bring you home.”

Betsy took one good look at me. “I know you!” Then rushed to throw herself against me. “I knew who you were right away. I thought you were an angel when you came to visit me in that place. I thought God was protecting me from all of those terrible people who killed my daddy.”

“I’m not an angel,” I said hoarsely. Tears clogged my throat even as they spilled from my eyes. “I was just someone who was trying to find you.”

“How could I see you?” she asked.

“You couldn’t really see her, honey,” her mother answered. “You were just dreaming.”

“No.” Betsy pulled back from me and stared. “I’ll never forget you. You were there with me. You protected me. Tell her.”

“Betsy!” Melinda looked embarrassed. “She’s having a little trouble right now. I plan to get her some counseling.”

“It’s okay,” I said. “Would you mind if I have a minute alone with her?”

“I-I guess that would be all right. I’ll just step back here and look at some of your pretty things.” She seemed uncomfortable with the idea. I didn’t blame her, considering what she’d gone through.

Betsy and I sat side by side on the sofa, eating cookies. “You know how sometimes you can see people in your dreams?” I asked her. “Maybe you’ve even seen your daddy.”

“I have,” she admitted. “But I knew I was dreaming. I wasn’t dreaming when I saw you.”

“It was something like a dream.” I tried to explain it in a way that would be understandable but not frightening for her. “It looks just like real.”

“It looked real to me. Did it look real to you too?”

“Yes. It looked real. I knew who you were right away too.”

Betsy glanced back at her mother. “She doesn’t understand. She thinks I’m dramatized.”

I had to smile at that. “You probably have been—traumatized—but this is something else. It’s something special that most people don’t understand. You have to let her figure it out for herself.”

“But it really happened, right?”

“Yes it did. I won’t ever forget either.”

She looked at me with big, solemn eyes. “Not ever.”

I hugged her as I saw Melinda coming toward us with an I’m-ready-to-go expression on her face. “We’ll see each other again sometime.”

“Really? Because we’re moving away, you know. Mommy doesn’t want to live in daddy’s house.”

“It doesn’t matter. We’ll see each other again.”

Melinda came and stood beside us until we both got to our feet. “I don’t know how to thank you for everything that you did. I don’t know how you did it, but I’m very grateful that you did. Thank you for saving my daughter.”

“You’re very welcome. Have a good trip to Richmond. Be safe.” I waved and smiled at the door until they had disappeared down the boardwalk.

I knew, after looking into her eyes, that Betsy and I would always share a unique bond. It was much like the bond I now had with Ann. It was an odd sensation, knowing I had shared something so personal with two strangers, like nothing I had ever felt before.

Even now, I could still feel little bits and pieces of Ann in my brain. I knew that she was in New York, that she was still confused and unhappy. She hadn’t wanted to leave Kevin behind, but they were just too different now to be compatible.

I wondered what I was going to do about Kevin. I’d seen him around, even talked to him a few times. But it was like talking to an acquaintance. He wouldn’t look me in the eye and had avoided any time alone with me, though we were both on the food committee.

I’d been waiting for him to say something about wanting us to get back together now that Ann was gone. I half thought he might come over right away. But that hadn’t happened.

Maybe he wasn’t ready yet. Maybe he was still upset about Ann leaving. It was awkward and I hated it, but I wasn’t sure how to handle the situation. Later that afternoon, on a break from the shop, I talked to Trudy about it while she tried a new nail polish remover on me. It was supposed to be gentler than the old variety.

“Just go see him,” she said. “Give him a big kiss. He’ll get the message.”

“What if he’s grieving or doesn’t want to get back together with me? What if he realized how different I am than Ann and he doesn’t feel the same way anymore?”

“That’s stupid. Just do like I said, Dae. You’re just moping around without him. Don’t make me go and talk to him for you.”

We both laughed about that. She’d talked to Ricky Allen for me when we were in seventh grade. She’d ended up going to the year-end dance with him.

“Okay. You don’t have to threaten me.”

“Good. I met a nice sales rep who’s taking me out for dinner tomorrow night. That’s why I need to try all of his products before then. I don’t want to order from him just because he’s cute.”

I was glad she’d gotten over Port so quickly. Of course, they’d only known each other briefly before he was killed. Still, hurts like that can linger if you’re not careful. I decided she was right. I didn’t want this problem between me and Kevin lingering. I needed to take care of it.

At five o’clock, I closed the shop and headed for home. The sun had just about set, so it was already pretty dark on the boardwalk. I almost bumped into Cody Baucum, who apologized as he raced by me. It seemed Wild Stallions had run out of onions, and he was on his way to Harris Teeter in a big hurry.

Nancy was in the parking lot, unlocking her car. I was glad to see her going home early for a change. Chris Slayton was standing in the lighted doorway of the Coffee House and Bookstore talking to Phil’s sister, Jamie. Everyone had noticed
that
rapidly budding romance.

I walked down the stairs, thinking about seeing Kevin that night at the food committee meeting for the Jazz Festival. The whole committee—Walt Perry, Martha Segall, Betty Vasquez, Kevin and I—were meeting at the Blue Whale. We were supposed to try several types of cheesecake and make a decision on which one we liked.

If I got there early, I plotted, I might have a few minutes to talk with Kevin alone. If he needed more time to get over Ann, we could discuss it. Or if he’d decided he didn’t want to be with me anymore—well, either way it was better to know where I stood.

I was thinking about what to wear, perhaps something nice instead of my usual jeans and Duck T-shirt, as I passed an election poster of myself. Gramps had paid a group of high school kids to put them up all over town. I looked a little
too
happy about wanting to be mayor again, at least to my critical eye.
Vote for Dae O’Donnell. She knows how to get things done.

Gramps had become my unofficial campaign manager. I wasn’t sure what all he had up his sleeve, but he certainly knew how to run for elected office—he’d done it several times himself as sheriff. I just hoped that whatever he had in mind wasn’t too embarrassing.

Mad Dog had hired an expensive outsider to run his campaign. He’d ended up in the middle of Duck Road yesterday asking drivers for donations. He’d started a new charity whose mission was to help any Duck children who were kidnapped. Since Betsy was the first—and hopefully the last—it seemed noticeably desperate to me.

I was rounding the corner from the parking lot when a long black limo pulled up next to me on the street. “Get in,” a husky voice said.

The last time something like this had happened, Jackie and Derek had forced me into their car. I wasn’t about to go through that again.

I glanced around in what I hoped was a nonchalant manner. How many times had Tim been waiting out here after I’d closed up? Usually he just wanted to talk. Why wasn’t he out here now demanding that I take him out for dinner and a movie like I’d promised him? How often did someone I know jog by me as I headed home from the shop? Where was everyone when I needed them?

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