A Haunting Dream (A Missing Pieces Mystery) (4 page)

I liked to think that part of her lived on in me. Sometimes I could almost hear her talking to me. But for all of the ghosts that frequented our part of the world, she’d never come back to let me apologize for being so stubborn and saying such terrible things.

I looked at myself in the mirror again and clipped on my grandmother’s pearl earrings. Life wasn’t fair, but it continued, and I wouldn’t let it pass me by.

“I’ll drive you down to the station or you’ll be late,” Gramps said when I got downstairs. “You look great!”

“Thanks.”

He handed me a warm corn muffin. “For strength. Mad Dog is gonna want to make you look bad tonight. Don’t let him get away with it.”

I wasn’t sure what good a corn muffin would be in those circumstances. Plus, I felt a little queasy from everything that had happened that day. I set the muffin down on the kitchen table and drank some apple juice instead.

“Don’t worry. I know he wants to be mayor any way he can. He’s going to have to do better than he does at town council meetings to beat me.”

The Duck Fire and Rescue Building had a large area where the fire department held classes for their recruits and the police department did training. At least a hundred chairs were set up in the open space. They all faced a podium, where Mad Dog was already standing when Gramps and I arrived.

It had been a harrowing ride on the new golf cart. It always was when Gramps drove. I hoped I didn’t look as unsettled as I felt. But there wasn’t time to fuss about my appearance. I patted my hair down and made sure my lipstick wasn’t smudged, then I headed for the podium with fierce determination.

Most of the chairs were filled already. I waved to friends and neighbors who held their thumbs up and wished me luck. It would be my first election campaign against another candidate. I’d run unopposed in Duck’s first mayoral election.

“Running a little late, Dae?” Randal “Mad Dog” Wilson taunted me. Before he’d announced that he would leave the town council to run against me, he’d always addressed me as “Mayor.” That had all changed since the beginning of the election season.

At six foot four and three hundred pounds, he was a formidable opponent. He made a habit of standing close and looking down at me, and everyone else. He was the town’s stock car racing hero from years ago. That was where he’d earned his colorful nickname. People said he drove like a mad dog.

“Better late than never,” was the snappiest comeback I could think of. I turned to Fire Chief Cailey Fargo, who was going to be the moderator for the debate. She’d also been my fifth-grade teacher, which was sometimes a little intimidating.

“I’m sorry we could only come up with one podium,” she said. “I’m not sure how you two want to do this. I guess you could sit down and debate since you’re so tall, Mad Dog.”

“That’s not going to happen! I say we take turns answering questions at the podium. We can debate just as well that way without giving Dae the advantage.”

“That’s fine with me.” I looked out at the sea of faces filling up the station, wishing I would spot that one special face I knew wouldn’t be there. I waved to my friends Shayla and Trudy, then noticed our town clerk, Nancy Boidyn, sitting beside them. She smiled and gave me the
give-’em-hell
look she usually reserved for problems with the trash company or roadwork crews.

I appreciated the support and mentally gave myself a good shake. Kevin was handling his own problems right now. I had to handle mine. People believed in me. I couldn’t let them down because I was unhappy.

“Okay,” Cailey said. “I’ll just stand over here and ask the questions. Maybe we should start with Dae since she’s the incumbent. I think that’s fair, don’t you, Mad Dog?”

“What is this—the age of chivalry?” he demanded. “This is America, darlin’. Land of the free and home of the equal. I think we should toss for it.”

I agreed. “That’s fine.” I was only reacting to whatever he said. I was going to have to do better than that. This debate was the kick-off for the political season. I had to make my mark.

Cailey tossed a silver dollar into the air. She dropped it the first time, and it rolled under the chairs in the audience. Carter Hatley, the owner of Game World, our local video game arcade, found it and gave it back to her.

She tried again with more luck. “Heads or tails?”

“Tails,” I said quickly, not waiting for Mad Dog this time.

“Hey! That wasn’t fair,” he complained. He got louder when Cailey said that I’d won the toss. “How do I know that was even a real coin? Maybe it was rigged.”

“Sit down, Mad Dog,” Cailey said in her old teacher’s voice. “Dae is up first.”

Mad Dog grumbled, but he did as he was told. He moved the chair to the side of the podium so everyone could see him, even while I was speaking.

“Dae, take a few minutes to introduce yourself for the newbies, then I’ll ask the questions.” Cailey smiled and pushed her graying brown hair out of her face, using the same sweeping motion she’d perfected during her younger, schoolteacher days. I’d often wondered why she didn’t cut her hair, since she seemed so impatient with it.

I smiled at the audience and focused on them, trying to look each person in the face. My heart gave a little extra thump when I saw Kevin seated in the back row. Ann was with him. His presence gave me the feeling that he still cared about me, even if we weren’t together.

“I’m Mayor Dae O’Donnell,” I said finally. “I was born and raised here in Duck. I’ve been mayor for the past two years. I’m excited about all the progress we’ve made since we incorporated.”

Then I proceeded to tell them all about that progress and said a few things about what we were looking forward to in the future. I thanked them, and everyone applauded.

Mad Dog, in turn, introduced himself and told everyone how long he’d been on the town council and all about his plans for the future of Duck.

When he’d finished, Cailey came closer to the microphone on the podium and asked the first question. “What’s your position on the bridge controversy, Mayor?”

Before I could speak, Mad Dog lumbered to his feet and kind of pushed me out of the way. “Let’s talk about what’s important here, people,” he rasped into the microphone. “How many murders and other crimes have happened in the two years since Dae took office?”

Chapter 4

I
frowned but didn’t respond.

“Too many,” he bellowed in answer to his own question, making me wonder if he had any numbers to back up his claim. “I can tell you one thing, citizens of Duck, I wouldn’t be so worried about sidewalks and whether or not the school is teaching Duck history, if I were the mayor. I’d be out there making sure our skyrocketing crime rate is going down. And if you elect me as mayor, I can promise you that is
exactly
what I will do!”

There was some scattered applause at his words. Anyone who knew Mad Dog had heard rhetoric like this from him before on varied subjects. He wouldn’t be him if he didn’t go off on some rant every now and again.

Cailey demanded that he wait his turn, and he took his seat, much to my surprise.

“Well, I guess people want to hear something about this, Dae,” she said. “Would you like to respond?”

Obviously I wasn’t being tough enough. I wouldn’t have guessed that Mad Dog would be so nasty. In private, maybe. But not in public. He was setting the tone for the whole campaign. Who knew Duck politics would get so vicious?

“I’ll be glad to respond.” I took the microphone back from her. “Yes, there has been more crime. That’s why the town decided to have its own police force. That wasn’t my decision, but I think it was a good one. I do have a question for Councilman Wilson—where were you when crime skyrocketed? It seems to me that being on the town council put you in a position to do something about this too. Have
you
done anything about it?”

A few loud whoops and applause came from the area where Shayla, Trudy and Nancy were sitting. Mad Dog’s friends frowned at them.

Mad Dog got to his feet again. “I’ll tell you what I’ve been doing. I’ve been working on creating a crime task force. This is only in the planning stages right now, so I’m not at liberty to discuss it. But when I’m the mayor, things will be different.”

“Yeah, right.” Althea Hinson, a county librarian who worked in Manteo, heckled him. “You can’t get out of your golf cart long enough to get anything done.”

Mark Samson from the Rib Shack restaurant stood up. “Let him be, Althea. If there’s a plan, I want to hear it.”

The crowd waited expectantly for Mad Dog to speak. He floundered around, looking uncomfortable and adjusting his big green tie. “I told you, the plan is only in the planning stages.”

“Well, just tell us the part of the plan that’s finished,” suggested Barney Thompson of the Sand Dollar Jewelry Store. “If you’re going to say you’re doing something, you better be doing it.”

“Chief Michaels won’t let me divulge those plans.” Mad Dog recovered his composure. “But even what I know now can be done, and it’s a darn sight better than what Dae O’Donnell is doing.”

“Do you have any plans to reduce crime?” Cailey asked me.

“If I did, I wouldn’t mind divulging them.” I still felt on the defensive. “But that’s not really my job. We have Chief Michaels and Sheriff Riley for that. They do a good job for us. Duck is changing, like the rest of the Outer Banks. Nobody really wants that to happen, but we’re in the middle of it now. We have to develop strategies for coping with those changes. It’s not going to happen overnight.”

“Sounds like you really don’t have anything in mind either,” August Grandin said. He owned Duck General Store, a couple of doors down from Missing Pieces.

“No,” I admitted. “I don’t have those answers. But neither does Councilman Wilson. I think appointing a group of citizens to work with the police as a community watch might be a good idea. I’ve brought that to the town council several times in the last year, but they’ve always voted against it.”

“Why is that?” August asked Mad Dog. “I remember Dae asking the council to consider that idea. What happened?”

Mad Dog kind of growled and his face turned red. “Wet-nose puppies! What good would it do to have everyone in town looking over everyone else’s shoulder? It’s a stupid idea. That’s why we turned it down.”

The audience erupted into a loud discussion, getting to their feet, in some cases, to tell their neighbor what they thought about community watch programs. I wished I’d brought my gavel from town hall to quiet them down.

Cailey finally got the room to come to order—with some help from the volunteer firefighters who were present. She asked everyone to sit down again. “This is getting out of hand, people. The debate is supposed to be spirited, not rude. Let’s hear what both candidates have to say—unless the rest of you plan to run for office too.”

There was a chorus of groans and assurances that none of them were so stupid as to run for public office. They were leaving that part to me and Mad Dog.

I wasn’t exactly sure how I felt about those sentiments. Like Gramps always said, at best serving the public was a thankless job, but it was also an important one. I always tried to see the bigger picture and not take what was said to heart.

The room was quiet after that, and we made it through the debate. Mad Dog took a few more shots at me, mostly about me being too young to know what to do as mayor. I could see a few older folks’ heads bobbing up and down in agreement. That was an easy score for him. I couldn’t deny that I was thirty years younger than him.

I felt like I’d made a few valid points too. Duck needed energy and vision to get where it wanted to be. Mad Dog slept through many of the council meetings, though I didn’t quite say that. I did remark on his habit of not showing up for meetings, though. That was a matter of public record.

Afterward, everyone seemed to think it went very well. They came up and shook hands with me and Mad Dog. Some of them promised to vote for one or the other of us. Most held back on their congratulations. They’d continue thinking about it until next November and make their opinions known on the ballot.

“You did great, Dae!” Nancy, Shayla and Trudy chorused around me after a series of hugs. “You said exactly what needed to be said. Good job!” Trudy added.

“Let’s celebrate!” Nancy said. “I’ll buy the first round at Wild Stallions, if the rest of you reciprocate.”

Shayla and Trudy quickly agreed. I was on the verge of agreeing too when I noticed that Kevin was waiting to talk to me. “You go ahead and I’ll catch up. I have to mingle with my constituency before I leave.”

Shayla glanced at Kevin and Ann, who were standing behind Trudy. “Don’t get all mushy over that man,” she hissed. “You don’t
need
him.”

“Thanks,” I whispered. “My brain agrees with you. The rest of me is waiting to be convinced. Besides, he is a voter.”

“
She
might be one now too,” Trudy said with a frown.

Nancy outright glared at Kevin as she walked by. Trudy and Shayla scowled at him. None of them spoke to him.

Kevin was frowning as I reached him, clearly not used to being treated like yesterday’s oyster shell. The women of Duck had been kind to him, welcoming almost to the point of fawning. We didn’t get a lot of new single men in town. He’d been a prize worth capturing, especially since he was good-looking
and
owned the Blue Whale Inn.

Only my friends were likely to care one way or another about the latest development between Kevin and me. I appreciated their loyalty, but I hoped they’d get over it right away. Kevin didn’t deserve their scorn. He was doing what he had to do.

“You did very well,” he said quietly, standing close to me.

“Thanks. I’m glad you could come.” We were alone, but I knew I’d seen Ann beside him just a moment ago. “Where’s Ann?”

“She’s outside, waiting. She doesn’t like confined spaces with a lot of people.”

“I hope she can adjust to all of this. I know it’s a lot different than the life she’s used to.”

“I hope so too.” He glanced around as though unsure of what to do or say next. He grabbed the obvious. “I guess you were in the middle of all that going down at your neighbor’s house today.”

“I know everyone has heard about it by now. At this point, it’s just run-of-the-mill for me to see dead people, or people who are probably dead. It’s almost as routine as looking for antiques.”

He took my hand and squeezed it gently. “Don’t say that. It can never be second nature to you. You’ll lose who you are, like Ann has. I can still help, if you’ll let me. I don’t know all the answers, like you said. But I think we’ve worked well together. That doesn’t have to be over.”

I prayed, short and fast, that he wouldn’t offer his undying friendship next. That might be more than I could take for one day.

I reclaimed my hand from his, making a show of picking up my pocketbook. “I think you’re going to need to focus your energies on dealing with Ann right now. I’ll be fine. You know I always bounce back. Don’t worry.”

He put his hand into his jacket pocket. “Yeah. I guess you’re right. But promise you’ll call if you need me. You know I’ll be there.”

I said, “I know,” in a voice I barely recognized. I wasn’t sure if he’d heard or not.

Lucky for me, Ann came back inside, probably to see what was keeping him. I followed up with a much stronger “Good night” and thanked them both for coming.

I wanted them to leave. But when my wish came true, it left me feeling empty and alone.

My father, the one I’d recently learned I had, came up. He looked angry. “
He
has a lot of nerve showing up here tonight. I could go out right now and kick his ass, if you want me to. Nobody should do that to my little girl.”

The idea that I was his little girl was funny. Here I was—thirty-six years old—and he’d been kept from me all of my life. My mother and Gramps had both told me he was dead. For my own good, of course.

Gramps had driven Danny away from my mother when she was pregnant with me. He wasn’t good enough to marry the Dare County sheriff’s daughter, since he’d been in and out of trouble all of his life. That was supposed to make it okay that they’d let me believe my father was dead.

“I suggest you stay out of it, Danny,” Gramps advised him, joining us. “Let them sort it out.”

That struck me as funny too, knowing what I knew about the whole crazy business. I wasn’t sure what to say to either of them.

Deciding I needed the company of women, I excused myself and let them know I’d be at the bar with my friends. Neither man was crazy about the idea of me going out by myself—it was almost ten
P.M.
, after all. The streets might not be safe.

I kissed my father on the cheek and let Gramps take me down to the boardwalk on the golf cart. That was one good thing about being older—I could listen to advice but not necessarily take it.

It was a beautiful night. The moon was big and full, lending that special glow across town. It was a mile or so down to the Duck Shoppes on the Boardwalk where Wild Stallions was located. Missing Pieces was tucked between Trudy’s Curves and Curls Beauty Spa and Shayla’s Mrs. Roberts, Spiritual Advisor shop. The area was the heart of Duck.

Once I arrived, I knew I didn’t want to sit and drink all night. Being with friends for a while was a wonderful balm for my spirit, but the moonlight was calling me out for a solitary walk on the beach.

I told Trudy and Shayla (Nancy had already left) that I was tired and going home for the night. It was close to the truth. I
would
go home—once I’d had enough walking.

They were a little concerned about me being alone, but they handled it. I knew they’d talk about my sadness over losing Kevin and think of things to cheer me up. Shayla would offer me a love potion to find someone else, and Trudy would offer me a facial so I could look my best.

I said good night and turned off my cell phone as I left. This was just the right thing to do.

The moon illuminated Duck Road, creating a path of light through the center of town. I followed it, winding down the silent streets, until I reached the shore of the Atlantic. The sea had a hazy quality, and the waves were so calm, it was almost like looking at the Currituck Sound on the other side of town.

I stood on the shore and stared out at the water like so many of my Banker relatives had in centuries past. The Atlantic was the lifeblood of Duck and the other, older towns on the island. Our ancestors had scratched out a living here by taking in cargo from ships lost to the “Graveyard of the Atlantic.”

Hundreds of ships had gone down here. Some because of the treacherous waters, others because of the local pirates, and a few here and there due to Banker tricks that caused no small amount of disaster. People had done what they needed to survive. Those weren’t easy times. Cut off from the mainland—no bridges then—life had been difficult.