“I’m Dae O’Donnell. The mayor of Duck. You came back in time for one of them to die and the other to be charged with her murder,” I said accusingly, though I wasn’t exactly sure what I was accusing him of.
“I came back to the Outer Banks to die, little girl. I only have a few months. Lung cancer.” He coughed long and hard, gasping for air. “I never believed those stupid cigarettes would kill me.”
“What happened? I mean, I read the police report. It said Ronnie Michaels shot you. I’ve seen your grave in Duck Cemetery.”
He grimaced. “Nothing to do with all you nosy busybodies in Duck. Why do you think I had to leave? Nobody can keep anything a secret.”
“Anything like what?” I demanded. “What kind of secret makes a man fake his own death?”
“Never mind me,” he wheezed, picking up an oxygen mask that was close at hand. “What are you doing to help Millie? You want to snoop around? Do something for her! She needs you. I don’t. She shouldn’t go to jail for what happened. She’d never hurt Lizzie.”
“We’re trying to help her,” I assured him. “I could probably arrange for you to see her, if you like.”
He pounded on his legs. “These things are useless now. I don’t get out much. Besides, she’s better off without me. Always has been.”
“Was Chief Michaels involved in faking your death?” I asked.
“Go away! Leave me alone. I’m dying already. Isn’t that enough for you?”
“You left Duck at the same time Wild Johnny Simpson was killed.” Kevin squeezed in one more shot. “You didn’t have anything to do with that, did you?”
“Did I?” Silas squinted up at him through his thick glasses. “If I did, I don’t remember. Maybe you should ask his ghost. You people still believe in ghosts, don’t you? Good-bye, young man.”
An attendant came to help Silas as he started coughing again. It was our signal to leave. The only question we had answered was that this was indeed Bad Butler.
Kevin and I walked out of the sunroom together. I was filled with too many questions. It was like eating too much at Thanksgiving—I was about to pop. There was a steady stream of visitors coming and going as we started down the hall. I recognized one of them and pulled Kevin to the side. “Chief Michaels!” I hissed as I turned us both around so the chief wouldn’t see us.
We were still visible in the narrow space until Kevin put both his arms around me and hugged me close. “Stand still,” he whispered so that his voice tickled my ear.
I stood there, not moving, knowing why it was happening, telling myself it didn’t really mean anything.
He smelled good. Kind of like ocean air and paint thinner. I could imagine dancing with him under the stars on the beach. I could imagine talking with him all night and helping him look for treasure at the Blue Whale.
But I didn’t have a good track record with men. There was Tim and a few others I’d dated since high school but nothing that ever meant much. I’d come to accept that I was destined to be alone. It didn’t bother me anymore. At least that’s what I told myself.
I made myself stand on my tiptoes and peek across his shoulder. “He’s gone. Fast thinking.”
He held me an second or two longer than was necessary. I didn’t let myself think about it. If he was interested in Shayla, he wouldn’t be interested in me. Not like that anyway. “I don’t get it,” I said as we started back down the hall to the lobby. “Why would Chief Michaels keep this a secret?”
Kevin smiled at a young woman in a low-cut red dress as he held the door for her. Clearly, he wasn’t all sweaty palmed or anything, like I was after standing close to him. Why was it that the men I liked never seemed to like me back? At least not in the same way. My high school yearbook was filled with boys who thought of me as their best friend.
“I think there may be more involved here than we realize, Dae. We should probably ask the chief about it.”
“But how can we? If he wanted us to know, he would’ve told me. Or Gramps. He’s known Silas was alive for a while but hasn’t said anything. How can that be good?”
“There could be some things that would explain this,” he said as we got out to the car. “I think we should give him a chance to defend himself. He’s supposed to be innocent until proven guilty, right?”
“What kind of things? I’ve known him my whole life. How could he hide something like this?”
“Until you find out what’s behind it, you’re only speculating it’s something bad,” he reminded me.
“Gramps could be involved in it too.” I sat down and fastened my seat belt. All of the excitement I’d felt earlier about getting here and finding Silas had drained away. What difference did it make if Silas was still alive anyway? It wouldn’t bring back Miss Elizabeth, and it wouldn’t save Miss Mildred. I’d discovered a whole new problem with no answer. I still hadn’t resolved the first problem.
He smiled at me as we stopped for a red light. “Would you like to stop somewhere for dinner? News of Bad Butler will wait another hour.”
I smiled back. “Maybe. As long as the chief’s car isn’t in the parking lot.”
“You’re willing to condemn the chief kind of fast without any real proof,” he argued. “You believe in Miss Mildred with real evidence against her.”
“I think I have real evidence against the chief,” I argued. “Silas Butler, a man he killed thirty years ago, is still alive. The chief has known about it for a while but hasn’t said anything. Why wouldn’t he tell someone?”
We turned into an interesting Asian restaurant I’d always wanted to try, but before we could get out of the truck, my cell phone went off. It was Gramps on the other end. He was more than a little upset.
“Dae, you won’t believe what’s happened. That new real estate boy who moved into town has put Millie’s and Lizzie’s properties up for sale.”
Chapter 14
“Is this possible? Can he really do this?” I asked Gramps once we were standing in the kitchen at home. I’d wanted to ask in the truck on the way back, but I’d lost cell phone service when Kevin drove out of the restaurant parking lot. It figures. “Did they owe back taxes or something?”
“This isn’t a tax auction,” Gramps explained. “The property is being auctioned off by Chuck Sparks. I don’t know how he got his hands on it.”
Mary Lou brought the cheesy-potato casserole from the microwave with fish-shaped oven mitts on her hands. “It’s a crime.” She plunked down the white casserole dish on the table next to the fish stew. “Nobody can come in and take a house like that. It’s down right thievery.”
I didn’t have to ask why she was here again tonight. Gramps had made that pretty clear. I was glad they had dinner ready since we’d rushed back from Kitty Hawk without eating. Mary Lou took out some of her prize-winning cornbread and put that on the table beside the casserole. It smelled so good, my stomach growled.
“Somebody’s hungry,” Gramps observed with a laugh.
Hot color washed into my face. I guess he didn’t care that we weren’t alone. “Mary Lou’s right.” I tried to divert the subject. “No one can take the sisters’ houses without notice or permission.”
“The only way that could happen at this point would be if they had some relation who could step in and take control of their estates.” Gramps poured tea. “Since neither of them had anyone except each other, I’ll bet both houses were set up to go to the surviving sister.”