A Spirited Gift

Kevin and I talked about the things he’d seen while he was working and the progress the cleanup crews were making. He said he could tell the difference later in the day. There was less debris in the roads and more along the sides.

Traffic was beginning to flow more freely—we had to wait for cars to pass to get across Duck Road. I wasn’t sure where everyone was going, since most of the stores were closed and there was no way off the island. But the drivers seemed intent on being out and pursuing their own agendas.

I wanted to tell Kevin about my ghostly pirate ancestor, but really—how do you say something like that? Even though Kevin was rational about my gift, I didn’t want to find out yet how far I could push his belief in the paranormal. I was having a hard time believing Rafe Masterson’s appearance myself.

We walked back to the Blue Whale, reaching the crushed mermaid fountain (minus the car) as Tim Mabry circled around the drive in his police car.

“Brickman.” Tim nodded at Kevin as he got out of the car. “Dae, I’m afraid I have some bad news.”

Tim was a born storyteller. He’d weave even the most mundane aspects of his everyday life into an hour-long tale. I wasn’t in the mood for it. “We know about the murder,” I said, showing less tolerance than usual.

“Damn! How’d you find out?” he demanded. “I’ve only known for a few minutes.”

“I was there when the ME called Chief Michaels,” Kevin answered. “Sorry.”

Tim hitched up his uniform on his six-foot-six, one-hundred-eighty-pound frame. He ran his hand across his blond flattop and wrinkled his nose the way he’d done it since we were kids. “I might still be one step ahead of you, Brickman.”

“Okay.” Kevin paused. “What’s the other bad news?”

“Chief says everyone is coming back to the Blue Whale—everyone who was here when Mayor Foxx was killed, that is. They have twenty-four hours to get back here and answer questions about where they were and how they felt about the deceased.”

“The bridges must be fixed,” I muttered.

“Not yet—but you didn’t know that, right? They say the bridges will be open and the ferries will be running tomorrow morning. That’s why the chief is giving all the suspects twenty-four hours to get here.”

“The crime scene is a mess,” Kevin said. “What’s the point?”

“In case you haven’t noticed”—Tim looked at me while he was being clever—“we’re not the FBI. We only have a few officers to conduct a murder investigation. We can’t be running around after all those people. Chief says they need to come to us or risk having a bench warrant put out on them.”

“Great,” Kevin replied. “This just gets better and better. I hope the chief has thought about who’s feeding these people while they’re here.”

“I’m sure you’ll be compensated for everything,” I said. “I’m sorry you have to go through this.”

“What about Matthew Wright?” Kevin asked. “I thought everyone was looking at him for this—if it turned out to be foul play.”

“He’ll be here.” Tim put his hand on his gun holster. “If he knows what’s good for him.”

“I thought he was in custody,” I added. “Weren’t you holding him for a while?”

“We could only legally hold him for forty-eight hours, Dae. You know that! Or did you lose track of time?”

“It hasn’t been forty-eight hours,” I argued.

“He convinced a judge that his time at the Blue Whale should be considered. We let him go—but he’ll be here.”

Kevin shrugged. “I’m going to take a shower and get some sleep before the new arrivals get here. I’m sure everything will look better then.”

“Would you like me to make you something to eat?” I offered.

“No, thanks. We were well fed today. Everyone is cooking all their food on their grills and giving the food away before it spoils. Betty Vasquez makes a mean bowl of chili in her cooker.”

“Okay. I’ll talk to you later then.” I glanced around, not sure where to go to find enough company to keep Rafe Masterson at bay.

“You don’t have to leave.” Kevin kissed me and smiled. “You can hang around here. You don’t even have to clean up or anything.”

“No, I should go home and see if Gramps needs any help. Give me a call when you get up—if your cell phone is working.”

He looked at me for a minute longer. Sometimes I felt as though he was the one with the gift. He always seemed to know when something was wrong.

But I was determined to let him rest in peace (no pun intended) while I tried to decide if I should tell him about my ghostly visitor.

“Dae—” Tim began when the door had closed behind Kevin and we were alone.

“Don’t start,” I warned, walking away, hoping Gramps was home.

“What? I was only going to tell you that I’d be glad to drive you home. The mayor of Duck shouldn’t have to walk everywhere she goes.”

“Thanks,” I said grudgingly. “I’d rather walk.”

“What happened between us?” he asked, going where I wished he wouldn’t go.

“We grew up, Tim. We weren’t meant to be together.”

“But you and Brickman are?”