Gramps laughed. “Probably with Mary Lou. Besides loving turtles, she has an uncommon love for gossip. She makes a good lemon meringue pie too. And she likes to cuddle.”
“That’s about all I need to know on that subject.” I stopped him. “Let’s get going. Before Wednesday, we could have this spread all over the Outer Banks.”
And it was easy. By seven p.m. Monday night, I had heard a short piece on the radio about finding new evidence in the murder case of Mrs. Elizabeth Simpson. I saw pictures of me flash twice on the TV at eight. The reference was vague, but the idea was that I had new information that might stop the auction of the properties and possibly point out who killed Miss Elizabeth.
There were five of us at my house for supper on Monday night when we heard the updated news story. Tim was kind of the odd man out since Kevin and I were there with Gramps and Mary Lou. Gramps had cautioned me against saying anything to anyone else. He didn’t even tell Mary Lou the truth, and I followed his lead.
“Wow!” Tim looked at me. “So what’s this new information in the murder case? Dish it out, girl.”
“You’ve been hanging around with Shayla for too long.” I laughed at his words. “But there’s nothing I can really say about what I know. The DA told me to keep my mouth shut.”
Tim was impressed but disappointed. “I suppose Kevin knows all about it.”
“Not exactly. He knows as much as you do.” I lied, but it was for the sake of expediency. If Tim knew Kevin knew, he’d pout and complain, maybe even tell other people, which would mess up our plan.
The doorbell rang, and since Gramps was dishing out blueberry cobbler, I went to answer it. Chuck Sparks stood on the stairs, glaring at me. “What kind of new information do you have, Mayor? I think I deserve to know.”
I sighed. Another person who felt entitled. But it was a good thing. If Chuck knew about it, then Jerry knew about it. It was what I’d wanted, but it was eight P.M. now and I was beginning to worry. There might be no peace until this blew over. “Would you like to come in, Chuck?”
He nodded and stalked inside. “If there’s something else going on, you can trust me to keep a secret.”
“Really? Why would I trust you with information that could keep you from selling those properties?”
His eyes narrowed. “That’s not fair. This is my first big sale. We’ve gone through a lot to plan for this. Do you know what a case of champagne costs?”
I’d had about enough of his whining. “Does it matter to you at all that the woman they have in custody for killing her sister isn’t guilty? Or that this house has been in her family for several generations and she doesn’t want to lose it?”
He looked abashed for a second or two. Then his real-estate-agent killer-shark instincts kicked in again. “It’s not for us to decide who’s guilty and who’s not. The fact of the matter is that the property belongs to Jerry’s grandfather now and Jerry has his power of attorney to do what’s best with all of the family property.”
I stepped closer to him. We were about the same height. “Did it ever occur to you that someone else might have a legal document that trumps Jerry’s power of attorney? Silas Butler isn’t the only one who wanted someone to take care of his property.”
“There’s no power of attorney or any other legal document listed at the Dare County Courthouse for either of the sisters.” He sniffed in a righteous way. “Jerry told me so.”
“I’m sorry, Chuck.” I managed a small smile. “Jerry’s wrong. He’s about to find that out. Maybe you should break the bad news to him before I give it to the media.”
He stared at me as though trying to decide if I were telling the truth. “I don’t want to tell you what to do, Mayor, but I’d be careful if I were you. Jerry isn’t a good man to cross.”
“Is that a threat?” Kevin asked from the doorway.
Chuck backed down right away. He thrust his hands into his pockets. “I’m just saying.”
“Thanks for the warning.” I opened the front door. “Good night, Chuck.”
“It won’t get any easier,” Kevin warned when Chuck was gone. “At least not for the next couple days. You should probably plan to be with someone all the time.”
Tim came up behind him, a wide grin plastered on his face. “I could spend the night, if that would help.”
Chuck was the last disturbance at the house before everyone, including Tim, went home. Once the coffee and the blueberry cobbler were gone, the conversation had more lulls than talk. It had been another long day, and Tuesday didn’t promise to be any better.
I stayed up late watching a romantic spy film on TV, thinking they might make a movie out of my part in this whole affair with Miss Mildred. Tuesday morning dawned warm and clear with no portent of the day’s activities to come.
I got up, showered, and dressed in black shorts and a black tank top. I’d decided to avoid bright colors for a while, reasoning that they might make me an easier target.
Gramps had left me a note on the table saying that he’d gone to help Mary Lou get ready for Turtle Rescue Day. He reminded me to be careful and said he’d see me later.
I was too nervous to eat. I crammed a Pop-Tart into my purse and started out the door. I paused a moment, hand on the doorknob, wondering what was on the other side. I don’t usually get feelings of dread over my decisions, but I had a moment of deep anxiety about what I’d causally offered to do. Making myself a target for killers had seemed like a good idea at the time. Now, I wasn’t so sure.
But then I took hold of myself and stuck a small can of Gramps’s pepper spray next to the Pop-Tart package in my purse. He kept a case of the stuff in the garage. I had never used it before, although he’d taught me how when I was a teenager and insisted I carry it on dates.
Feeling better, I opened the front door and almost walked into Kevin. His fist was outstretched to knock on the door.
“Good morning!” I was surprised and pleased to see him there. “Gramps is gone for the day.” It was the first thing that entered my mind. After I’d said it, I regretted it. I probably sounded kind of lame to him.
“Good morning. I’m not here to see your grandfather. I’m here to collect my painting assistant.”
“I can give you a couple of hours this evening after I close Missing Pieces,” I offered. “I have to lead tai chi at the park this morning before I open. It’s a mayor thing.”
“That’s okay. Later is good. I’ll walk over to the park with you.”
I locked the door behind me, realizing with a smile why he was really here. “You’re my bodyguard, right? You said someone should be with me.”
He laughed as we walked down the drive to Duck Road. “I didn’t mean to cause that problem with Tim last night. Did you have trouble getting him to go home?”
“Not at all,” I assured him. “Tim offers to spend the night all the time. It goes along with proposing. He and Shayla must’ve broken up again.”
“Short relationship.”
“Yeah. Anyway, I appreciate you worrying about me. But do you really think anyone will try to take me out right here on Duck Road?”
“Miss Elizabeth was right in the heart of Duck when they took her out.”
I thought about that as we walked in the early morning sunshine. A few cars passed us, but traffic was still light. “That’s kind of ominous, don’t you think?”
“It’s the truth,” he said. “You shouldn’t take this lightly.”
“All right. I guess I appreciate your help, then.”
He nodded, and we continued down the road. A few people passed and blew their horns, waving as they went by. Friends, or friends of friends, all citizens of Duck. I’d never felt uneasy here until Miss Elizabeth’s murder. It struck me that Duck was changing with the increase in tourists and the march of time. The town had changed many times before. Why had I thought it would always remain the way I wanted it to be?