A Finder's Fee (13 page)

La Donna had a pained look on her face. “Are you ready to go?”

Beverly only grunted and said, “She’s sitting in my place. Can we go to the library now?”

“Sorry.” I got out and climbed in back.

“Sorry, Dae,” La Donna whispered as I changed seats.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m glad to have the ride home.”

Beverly kept up her harangue from the courthouse to the library. Twice La Donna tried to get her off on another subject—
Isn’t the sky beautiful? The water is so calm today. Not so much traffic as the last time we were here.

It didn’t matter. Beverly kept on about La Donna’s shortcomings, the stupid county government and her son, Chief Michaels, not using his authority to do the things people needed, such as getting their tax papers.

By the time Beverly got out at the library, I was mentally exhausted. It was hard to say whether she was any better than Amos. At least it wasn’t directed at me.

La Donna went in the library with her mother. I stayed in the quiet minivan, thinking about my options. I knew I should probably ask Chief Michaels if I could go into the impound lot and touch the car.

I wasn’t sure whether or not that would work. Chief Michaels was more accommodating on some days than others. He was steadfast when it came to enforcing the law, but he was a little fickle when it came to using my gift.

If he wouldn’t help me, my next angle would have to be getting in the lot without his help. Tim had always been very reliable at this type of thing. It didn’t seem like it would be a problem. I hated to take advantage of him—he always wanted a favor in return that amounted to a quasi-date. Maybe not now, since he and Trudy seemed so close.

Scott Randall, the other full-time police officer who’d have access to the impound lot, was far too intense and worried about upholding the law. He was very sweet, but he’d never go along with it.

I could try and break into the lot by myself, and it might come down to that. One way or another, I was going to put my hands on old number twelve.

L
a Donna and Beverly came out of the library a few minutes later. Conversation was slow and intermittent during
the ride back to Duck. I didn’t mind. It was nice to look out of the window at the sky, the water and the dunes.

Traffic started backing up as we got into town. Something was up at either Duck Park or the construction site for the new town hall. Since I knew they weren’t working on the town hall for a while, and it was a little cold for many people to be in the park, I was curious about what could be going on.

“I’ll get out here, La Donna,” I said. “Thanks for the ride back.”

“Do you know what’s going on, Dae?”

“I’ll let you know when I find out.” I smiled at her in the rearview mirror and got out of the minivan.

I walked along the side of the road. It didn’t take long to see what the problem was. A large truck was picking up Kevin’s excavator. Two men were in the street stopping traffic both ways while the work was being done.

I saw Kevin near the excavator and walked quickly up to join him. “Finally getting to take it home, huh?”

“No. Sheriff Riley decided it was part of the investigation, since it dug up the car. He’s having it taken to Manteo—unless Chief Michaels can persuade him to leave it at the Duck police impound lot.”

I felt terrible again. Kevin looked angry about it too. “I’ll go talk to them.”

“I don’t think that will help. We’re lucky he isn’t impounding
us
because we were there.” He smiled and put his arm around me. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll dig the storm cellar later. They can have it for now, although I’d rather them keep it here.”

“I’m sorry.” I knew I’d already said it a few dozen times. There wasn’t much else to say.

“Don’t worry about it. Do you have time to come and look at the desk with me?”

I thought about my plan to open Missing Pieces for a while. It could wait, like Kevin’s storm cellar. “Sure. Does lunch come with that?”

“Yes. My golf cart is right over there.” He laughed. “Who thought I’d be saying that to someone?”

“Life changes, I guess.” It was good to see he still had a sense of humor.

“I’ll call Ronnie later to see where they’ve decided to put the excavator.”

We walked around the crowd as everyone else watched what was going on. Kevin’s phone rang. It was Chief Michaels.

Kevin talked to him for a few minutes. When he said thanks and hung up, I asked him what had happened.

“It’s the endless tug-of-war between different law enforcement groups,” he said. “Chief Michaels won on the race car staying here in Duck. Sheriff Riley gets the excavator.”

“I’ll pay to have it brought back to the Blue Whale when they’re done.” I’d hoped it would stay in Duck. That would have been cheaper.

“You don’t have to do that, Dae.” Kevin started the golf cart that had
The
Blue Whale Inn
airbrushed on the side. Sometimes he used it to ferry guests down to the beach or to a local event—another part of Blue Whale service that people loved.

He continued, “I think the desk is enough. I know it’s a bad situation. I guess we both should’ve known better.”

This wasn’t where I’d pictured being right before my first real election. When I became mayor the first time, Duck had just incorporated and no one had run against me. Mad Dog, La Donna and the other council members hadn’t wanted to be mayor.

This election with Mad Dog had been a taste of the real thing. There had been too many angry words and careless accusations between us. That’s what had made everyone suspect that I’d gone out of my way to find his old race car with Lightning Joe in it. They believed in my gift. Too bad they believed I’d do something so underhanded with it.

Kevin and I passed ten posters and three signs stuck in the ground campaigning for either Mad Dog or me. There were posters, signs and banners all over Duck for each of us. I cringed when I saw some of them, especially the ones that had been put up by Dillon’s money.

The big banner that had been displayed at the history museum, next to the Blue Whale, still stung. It was one of the biggest and earliest in the campaign and was looking ragged after a year of being outside.

It was a big picture of Mad Dog smiling with the quotation, “Vote for me. I won’t fool around all Dae.” The Duck Historical Society had decided to back him for mayor. I constantly asked myself why.

I had belonged to the historical society since I was eight. Mad Dog had never been interested in Duck history, as far as I knew. Did their endorsement of him mean they thought I was doing a bad job?

I hadn’t been there for months because of it. I knew I wasn’t supposed to take it personally. I did anyway.

I was feeling sorry for myself. It had been a long, strange night and a hard day. I probably should’ve gone home before it got worse.

But Kevin was excited about his desk, and that made me smile. He’d already moved it into his office and placed it in front of a window that overlooked the ocean. It was a nice, sunny location. He could work, or he could look out of the window and dream.

“This is great.” I admired the location. “You need a better chair for it. I’m sure I have one.”

He looked at the white plastic chair he’d drawn up to it. “I suppose so.” He ran his hand over the desk’s mellow wood. “I love it, Dae. I know you’ve either done your research or you’ve touched it. Tell me its history.”

“It was made in England and shipped here for an accountant who was setting up a new practice. He was John Edgar Anthony, the third son of a duke. He lived to a ripe old age and was the father of twelve children. He died wealthy and happy. Doesn’t that sound good?”

“That sounds like what I’d expect from you. It didn’t actually cost you five thousand, did it? That would be too much.”

I started to remind him that it was what I owed him after he’d been fined on my behalf. I knew that would only bring back a series of questions, so I kept my mouth closed.

It seemed fair in my mind to pay that much—better if he’d just let me give him the money. I knew Kevin too well to think he’d accept it.

“It was a really sweet deal.” I winked and gave him what I hoped was a sly smile.

“Good. What do you suggest for a chair?”

I looked at the dark oak roll top, probably big enough for me to climb inside. It had dozens of slots for papers, some he’d already filled.

Maggie, who’d been silent all day, suddenly giggled as we traded places. “Why don’t we just give it a try, eh? It looks like a good place to have some fun.”

Kevin stared at me. “What did you say?”

“I said it should be this color.” I hoped he’d let it go. There was nowhere to escape as I had that morning. “Maybe with a nice brown leather seat or a manly tapestry cover.”

“That isn’t what you said. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I’m not feeling well. I should probably go home.”

“You probably should, but not until I have some answers about what’s wrong with you.” His gaze seared into me. “Tell me what’s up with the strange bursts of dialect. Should I call Shayla for help?”

“There’s not really much to say.” I decided to tell him the truth. “Shayla was sort of right about Maggie. Not completely. She’s inside of me. But she’s not a witch. What about lunch?”

Kevin took a deep breath. “I happen to have a new recipe for potato soup that I’m working on for dinner tonight. My guests tell me they both love potato soup. Want to be my guinea pig while you explain the whole thing about Maggie?”

“Can’t we just eat?” Kevin is a great cook. I love everything he makes. “Really, explaining about Maggie is complicated.”

He took my hand. “I’m a good listener.”

We ended up having potato soup and fresh-baked bread with those cute little rosettes of butter he makes for his guests. He opened a bottle of white muscadine wine, which was excellent. This is the only type of wine native to the state. It has been made on the Outer Banks for hundreds of years.

Over lunch, Kevin asked again about Maggie.

I tried to divert his attention by telling him about my meeting with Mad Dog. I didn’t mention my plan to touch the race car. I didn’t want him to get into any trouble for me again.

He was too persistent to ignore.

“There really isn’t much to say.” I buttered my bread despite disliking the destruction of the rosette.

“Except that you have a four-hundred-year-old woman or witch, depending on who you ask, living inside of you.”

“It happened when I put on the amber necklace.” I hated to remind him of my careless mistake.

“So that part of the story is true.”

“Yes. I don’t know what else I could’ve done. Maggie’s not a ghost. She’s not a witch either. I’m trying to find where she belongs. In the meantime, she comes out—once in a while.”

His blue gray gaze harpooned me across the table. “Comes out?”

“You’ve heard her. I know I haven’t done a great job covering her up. She gets excited and talks through me. She’s not easy to contain.”

“I knew there was something more going on. I hope Shayla wasn’t right about this. How can you know that Maggie isn’t making you do terrible things that you’re not aware of?”

“I
know
. She’s not like that, for one thing. And I can hear everything she says and does. She can hear me too. I don’t think this is a classic form of possession. There’s nothing to worry about.”

Kevin sat back from the table. “That makes me more worried. Shayla and Ann might be right about Maggie.”

“They aren’t. How can I convince you?”

“I don’t know. Even if Maggie is a saint, I’d worry about the two of you getting lost in each other’s consciousness. It doesn’t sound like you have any control over her. I know you’re Dae right now, and not Maggie.” He frowned. “Let’s do Maggie for the sake of comparison.”

“Okay.” I closed my eyes—not necessary, but I felt weird about the whole thing.

“I’ll be glad to talk to you, sir.” Maggie’s voice was distinctive. “I shall be happy to do whatever you like, and Dae won’t mind either. That’s the God’s truth of it.”

“All right. Thanks, Maggie.” Kevin nodded. “Dae?”

“So now you know,” I said.

“It’s amazing. I wouldn’t have believed it. Her voice, even her inflections, are different than yours. I never thought I’d say this, but it’s kind of spooky thinking you have someone else inside of you.”

“She’s really very pleasant for a ditzy, lovesick tavern wench. Her ideas about men are a little crazy for me, but we’re doing okay.”

“I noticed her ideas are a little racy—I hope she didn’t give Jake the wrong idea.”

“There was a moment.” I swallowed hard and admitted it. “I handled it. He knows how I feel about you. He probably thinks I’m crazy now anyway.”

When we’d finished lunch, I convinced Kevin to walk next door with me to the museum. I really needed help from the historical society to find Maggie’s boyfriend’s grave. Thomas Graham had died after Maggie and was buried somewhere on the island. Maggie wanted me to move her bones to lie beside Thomas’s. While I hadn’t been able to reach Maggie’s bones yet, it was only a matter of time. It would be good to know where I was taking them.

I felt strange going there after the group’s endorsement of Mad Dog for mayor, but I was going to have to get over it. They knew everything about the local graveyards and the old names of the original settlers.

I had to remember that the president of the Duck Historical Society, Mrs. Euly Stanley, was on my campaign committee. Not all of the group planned to vote for Mad Dog.

Lucky for me, several members of the historical society were present when we got there. Mark Samson from the Rib Shack, Barney Thompson from the Sand Dollar Jewelry Store and Miss Mildred Mason were all there, drinking tea and eating scones.

I wished Mrs. Stanley had been there to bolster my confidence, but she must have stayed home that day.

“Dae, it’s good to see you.” Miss Mildred was a vibrant ninety-two. Her cloud of white hair made her blue eyes stand out in her tanned face. “How’s everything going?”

“Fine, thanks. I was wondering if I could ask you some questions about two people who lived in Duck in the late 1600s.”

She looked at Mark and Barney. They nodded, always ready for a good historical debate, even if they didn’t want me to be mayor for a second time.

“I’m looking for information on Maggie Madison. She was a tavern wench and had a small house where Duck Park is now. The second is a sea captain, Thomas Graham. That’s all I know about him.”

The three invited Kevin and me to have tea, which we declined since we’d recently eaten. Miss Mildred patted the chair next to her, inviting Kevin to sit down. I got no such invitation from Mark or Barney, but I sat down beside them anyway.

“I wish Euly were here.” Miss Mildred smiled at Kevin. “At least for assistance with your sea captain. I think we all know the story of Maggie Madison. Dae, I’m sure you know it too.”

“I know everyone thought she was a witch and ostracized her. She died during a big storm when she was eighteen. She worked as a barmaid at the local tavern. That’s about all I know.”

“That’s about all any of us knows about her.” Mark laughed. “Actually, I didn’t know she was only eighteen. How did you find that out, Dae?”