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Chapter 29

“Are you talking about the scourge-of-the-Outer-Banks-pirate Rafe Masterson? The one who cursed Duck with his dying breath?” Kevin asked. “I didn’t know you were related to him.”

“I didn’t either.” I explained from the beginning, wondering why I even tried to keep secrets from him, since he always ended up knowing anyway.

“He’s too addlepated to understand,” Rafe inserted, showing himself to me.

“You’re violating our agreement,” I told him.

“He’s here now?” Kevin looked around the empty ballroom.

“He wants to know about me. What better way than to hear it from me personally,” Rafe insisted. “Besides, you told him about me. That breaks our agreement.”

“He can’t hear you or see you,” I reminded the pirate. “Remember—he’s not related.”

“What’s he saying?” Kevin wondered, giving up trying to find him hovering close by.

“He’s not saying anything else—unless he doesn’t want my help anymore.”

Rafe vanished, but his leaving was like a sudden surge of air blasting through the ballroom. It rattled the chandelier and made the pieces of glass on the floor dance.

“Was that him?” Kevin asked.

“He’s kind of a show-off.”

“So this ghost is helping you solve Mayor Foxx’s murder?”

“Not exactly—he thinks he is. He told me Matthew Wright has crossed over. I was on my way to see if it’s true.”

“Can I tag along?”

“Sure. I don’t see why not.” I smiled at him and took his hand in mine. “Trying to make sure I haven’t lost it?”

He wrapped his arms around me and held me close. I could hear his heart beating against my ear. “The world you’re part of can be dangerous. I worry about you. But I’d also like to know if he’s right.”

“I can live with that. Thanks.” We kissed briefly, then started out of the Blue Whale. I could hear Rafe chuckling, but he didn’t make another appearance.

I told Kevin that Chief Michaels and Gramps may have been called to the scene already. “Rafe can’t tell me exactly where we’re going. He said the area has changed too much.”

“Is he here now?” Kevin asked as we got in the pickup parked outside the back entrance.

“I don’t see him, if that’s what you mean. But I think he’s lurking. What are you worried about?”

“Not that you’re crazy,” he assured me as he started the engine. “How much do you know about spirits pretending to be someone we might want to see?”

“Absolutely nothing—except the little bit of gibberish Shayla shared with me when she found out about Rafe. But there are two things that don’t make sense about that. First of all, why would any ghost pretend to be Rafe Masterson? It’s not like I would’ve summoned him to help me. You’ve heard all the terrible stories about him. And second, what could he hope to gain?”

“Your trust—your help in whatever he wants to do. Spirits can’t do things for themselves on this plane. They need human help.”

“I told you he wants his name cleared. But even Shayla agreed he could only appear to me since we’re related. It’s not like I go around seeing ghosts everywhere like she does. Helping him with that doesn’t seem so terrible, since he’s my great-great-something or other. I’ve been trying to do some research at the museum, but things keep getting in the way.”

“Just be careful. Don’t let him talk you into anything that doesn’t feel right.”

“Okay.” I wasn’t sure what else I could say. He sounded very ominous about the whole thing.

“He’s daft!” Rafe suddenly appeared between us. “The poor sot has no idea what he’s blabbering about. What matter of conveyance is this?”

I told Kevin that Rafe was with us. “He thinks you’re crazy.”

“I’m sure he does.” Kevin kept his eyes on the road. “Just have him tell us where we’re supposed to go—unless Matthew Wright is out in the middle of Duck Road.”

I realized he’d been at the stop sign for a few minutes. Rafe blustered and complained but finally gave me directions. “Follow the road to the right,” he instructed. I relayed the information to Kevin. “There’s a place on the sound—gad, how amazing that some things stay the same for so long, eh? I had a friend—One Finger Joe—who lived right on that spot. Good fishing there.”

“Which way now?” Kevin questioned as we were driving down the road. “There are a lot of places on the sound.”

“There is something sticking up out of the water—a quay of some sort. It’s beyond a grassy area with walkways of stone.” Rafe shook his head. “Beyond that, I cannot tell you.”

“The park!” I interpreted. “I think he’s talking about Duck Park.” There was a small cove at the edge of the park where we’d built a pier for walkers that jutted out into the Currituck Sound.

Kevin pulled the pickup into the parking lot, and we ran down the trails toward the water side of the park. Rafe stayed visibly ahead of us, floating above the path. I felt like I was in an episode of Scooby-Doo—pirate ghost and all.

A few Duck residents waved as we went by. A senior group was meeting there for their weekly walk. I smiled and waved back, thinking all the time that the park would become a crime scene if Matthew was found here. Cleanup from the storm would have to be postponed.

The cove was beside the stairs heading up to the long pier, which had such great views of the sound. A few mangled bicycles, a tire and a baby stroller languished in the water.

“I don’t see anything—at least not a dead body,” Kevin said after a moment. “I’ll check from the pier.”

“He’s down there, girl,” Rafe assured me. “Might be weighted down. That’s the way we did it. Look hard. You’ll see him.”

I did as he suggested, as best I could from the shore anyway. I was leery of jumping into the water unless I had to. There was no telling what all was beneath the surface, aside from a dead body.

“I don’t see anything,” Kevin said again, coming back down the stairs. “I think your ghost might have some bad intel.”

“He’s here, blast your hides! You’re looking all wrong.” Rafe paced up and down the shoreline.

“Or you’re all wrong,” I answered.

“Maybe he’s being held down underwater with something,” Kevin said. “There’s a lot of debris. I wouldn’t go in there without some kind of safety equipment. We should call the fire department.”

“What will we tell them?” I worried the problem—and my lip. “I can’t tell them a ghost told me to come here.”

“I don’t know why.” Kevin shrugged. “People here believe in ghosts. I don’t think they’d be that surprised.”

“Because I’m the mayor, and people know I have a gift—I find things. Shayla sees ghosts. Mrs. Anson in Southern Shores sees ghosts. Not me. I was really hoping Chief Michaels would be here and I could quietly creep away knowing Rafe was right.”

“One of you lily-livered cods jump in!” Rafe yelled, causing the bushes beside us to stir as though a strong wind had come up from the sound. “I’d do it myself, but it wouldn’t do no good.”

“I left my cell phone in the truck,” Kevin said. “I’ll call the fire department and tell them we saw something hazardous down here. We won’t use your story. Then we’ll know if your ghost is telling the truth.”

I looked back toward the water and saw something lying on top of the tire. It gleamed in the sunlight. I knew I’d seen it before. “Matthew’s car key.” I called Kevin back, but he was already too far gone. “I guess you must be right,” I said to the pirate. “That’s the key I found at the Blue Whale.”