But I couldn’t do it. “I guess I’m asking if you’re part of this whole auction thing for the sisters’ properties. I’m sorry, Chief. I don’t want to ask that question, but I’m not the only one asking.” I was, but he didn’t have to know.
He paused for a long moment, then looked out the window at the sound with his hands held behind his back, legs spread, like an old-time sea captain. “You do things for a long time on autopilot. I guess because you know your way around so well. Maybe too well.”
He sat back down and faced me. “I’ve only known about Silas for a few months. Of course I went to visit him when I found out. I never expected to see him again.”
“What happened? Why isn’t he buried in Duck Cemetery?”
“He turned state’s witness against Bunk Whitley. It was the only way we could get at him. Old Bunk was the real problem back then. He was into everything from gambling to prostitution. Silas worked for Bunk.”
“And you agreed to pretend he was dead so Bunk wouldn’t kill him.” That made so much more sense than thinking the chief had gone rogue.
“We did. Horace knew about it too. He was there with me that night. We took Silas across to the mainland and were supposed to keep him at a motel until the trial. But Bunk was too clever for us. He skipped out and was never heard from around these parts again. Silas was too scared to come back, though. He left the island. He told me he only came back to die because it didn’t matter anymore. Then Miss Elizabeth was killed.”
“Their properties came to him, didn’t they?”
He nodded. “Silas told me about it right after we picked up Millie.”
“But there are no other relatives, so he gave it to Chuck Sparks to sell.”
“Not exactly. There’s another relative, Mayor. Silas has a grandson. He’s the one selling the properties. I assume he has power of attorney over his grandfather’s affairs. I knew it was coming. That’s why I went down there yesterday, to ask him if there wasn’t some way to stop it.”
“What did he say?”
“He said he wouldn’t if he could. He’s dying. He might only have a month or so to live. He doesn’t care if Bunk is still alive and can come after him. He thinks what’s happening with his sisters’ property doesn’t matter either since Millie was arrested.”
“What about this grandson? Does he live in Kitty Hawk?”
“No. He lives on the mainland. You know him. It’s Jerry Richards.”
“The TV guy?” I could hardly believe it. “He’s the one who has to sell the properties right away because he owes people money?”
“What did you think, Dae? Did you think it was me?”
I hated to admit it, but I nodded, keeping my gaze on his. “I’m afraid so. Sorry, Chief.”
He got up and paced the office for a few minutes, occasionally looking back at me. “I know Horace didn’t think it was me. I know he knows me better.”
“I’m sure you’re right. He didn’t say much when I told him, but I’m sure he didn’t really think it was you. I didn’t want to, but it looked that way from where I was standing.”
“Well, I’m glad we got that settled then.”
“Have you considered that Jerry Richards may have killed Miss Elizabeth and framed Miss Mildred for the murder?” I asked, excited about the possibility. “He obviously had a reason to do it as soon as he realized both of the properties would come to him if anything happened to his aunts. Chuck told me the properties together could go for more than five million dollars. With that amount, Richards could probably pay off all his debts and still have a lot left over.”
“Of course I considered that! I’m not a complete fool. But Richards has an alibi for the time the ME thinks Lizzie was killed. He was still on the mainland, taping a news segment to be used later. I don’t think it was him, and neither does Agent Walker. We also checked out Sparks’s alibi since he’s new around here. He was at a big sales bash in Corolla.”
“But you can both wrap your minds around Miss Mildred killing her sister.” I hoped my tone conveyed enough sarcasm. “Really, Chief, just because everything is laid out all nice and neat doesn’t make it the truth.”
“I’ve given you the information I know about. All of the real evidence is against Millie. I don’t like it anymore than you do, Dae. And I wish I could point a finger at Jerry Richards or anyone else for what happened here. But I can’t, and you should let it go too.”
“Just one last thing,” I said. “Did Miss Mildred and Miss Elizabeth know their brother was still alive?”
He frowned. “Yes. He wouldn’t leave unless they knew. It was hard at the beginning. They didn’t speak to me for a long time. Part of the charade. Eventually, most people forgot.”
“Thanks, Chief. I appreciate you giving me this information. Forgive me if I can’t let this go that easy.”
The chair legs scraped on the wood floor as he pushed back from the desk. “I guess you have to do what you think is right. But be careful you don’t get in trouble. Brickman may have been FBI, but don’t think he knows it all.”
He left the office, and I sagged over my desk, my cheek against the cool wood. That wasn’t something I ever wanted to do again. But at least it had cleared the air, and I felt certain the chief wasn’t involved. Now I had to find out who was.
If Jerry Richards and Chuck Sparks had been ruled out as suspects, who was left? Someone else had to benefit, but who could that be?
I told Nancy I’d see her later and almost ran out of town hall. I sat for a long time on the bench overlooking Currituck Sound, trying to piece everything together. From where I was sitting, I could see the door to Missing Pieces, and when a prospective shopper finally decided to visit, I reluctantly went to answer the call.
The rest of the morning flew by as a few more shoppers followed the first. I sold one Blue Whale T-shirt for Kevin and put his money in an envelope for later. I noticed one of the shoppers seemed to be searching for something special. She picked up my Roosevelt jelly jar right away, then put it down only to circle back to it again.
She finally brought it up to the front, her cinnamon-colored brows knit together, very red lips determined in her pink face. “This one doesn’t have a price on it. I realize that means it’s more expensive, but I’m prepared to haggle.”
That was a little different than what I’d come to expect. Usually, my special shoppers paid whatever I asked for the treasure, no questions. We eyed each other like opponents before a prize fight. I came out swinging first, with a price in mind.
Her blue eyes widened comically. “That’s outrageous! I’ll give you half that.”
I could see she really wanted it. More important, she knew what it was. “You won’t get a jelly jar actually used by Mrs. Roosevelt while she was staying here in Duck for any less than I’m asking.”
“I’ve seen one or two for half of what you’re asking.”
Hmm. She wasn’t very good at haggling. “I’ll tell you what. You can have the jelly jar and the butter keeper that goes with it for my original price.”
“Deal!” She put out her heavily ringed hand to shake mine and we sealed the agreement. “Wait until the girls back home see this! Of course, I’ll have to add it to my will.”
Will! Why hadn’t I thought of it before? Miss Elizabeth had a last will and testament, but Miss Mildred wasn’t dead. The only legal document that could give someone the power to sell her property would be a power of attorney. If Miss Mildred knew Silas was still alive, she probably had put that in his name in the event of Elizabeth’s death. That meant Jerry Richards could sell the property if he had access to that document. He’d be fine as long as no one questioned it.