Выбрать главу

“I’ve been down here a hundred times in the daylight and didn’t see it.” He examined the coin. “Does it have anything to do with what happened at the museum?”

“Not as far as I can tell. Maybe Bunk Whitley stored the gold here for a while after he found it. I realize now that both times that I handled the coins, he was involved.” I explained about Max’s tale, the only story the town knew, of when he’d found the treasure on the beach. “Why would Max lie? And how did he get the gold?”

“Maybe he didn’t want to be associated with old Bunk. From what you’ve told me, Bunk was a gangster-type figure around here. Or maybe he took it after Bunk disappeared.”

“I’m afraid what I’m seeing when I touch the coin isn’t very helpful. The vision ends with Bunk picking up the chest and walking back down the beach.”

“Maybe that’s all there is from that particular moment in time. Not everything has deeper meaning—at least not that we can see right away,” he said. “Let’s get out of here and crack open this cask upstairs. I might have something dry you can put on.”

I picked up the flashlight again and followed him out of the cellar. I wasn’t as convinced as Kevin seemed to be that the visions I was seeing by touching these items held any special significance. Of course, maybe I was just skeptical because I didn’t have enough experience with this new ability. I was used to being able to tell people right away where their lost treasures were, like I had with the wine cask. This new ability was completely different.

Just a little depressed about the general, seemingly useless information I’d gathered so far, I walked ahead of Kevin to open the back door for him. The moon had gone behind some clouds, leaving the dark night feeling empty. One thing was for sure—I seemed destined to have one of the gold coins. Kevin had insisted I should keep it, not caring when I told him it could be valuable.

He made a fire in the big stone hearth that was the focal point in the drawing room upstairs. I had to pass on one of the old dresses he’d found while working on the Blue Whale. Even as I reached for it, I worried that it might have too much emotional energy attached to it.

It was possible no one had worn any of the dresses since the inn was closed, unlike clothes I had in Missing Pieces that had been bought and sold many times over. Kevin said he’d had everything dry cleaned, but I doubted even a good cleaning would remove the memories those clothes could hold.

I got the gloves from the dining room table where I’d left them and started putting them back on. Kevin stopped me. “What if this new ability is meant to enhance the one you already have?”

“I don’t care. I don’t think I want it.”

“What if I can help you control it?” The words hung between us like a sail puffed up with wind that had nowhere to go.

“I know you think this is a good thing, Kevin. And I understand about your girlfriend, but—”

“I didn’t say Ann was my girlfriend,” he countered. “Is that something you picked up from me when you were looking for the wine?”

I shrugged. “Only intuition. I don’t see people’s memories, at least not right now. Or I guess I should say I didn’t see any memories in your head. You talked about her like the two of you were involved.”

He sat down on the sofa and poked the fire, the light emphasizing grim lines in his face. “She and I were going to be married.”

I would’ve sat down on the sofa next to him and offered whatever words of comfort I could dredge up, but I was conscious of my dirty dress. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to remind you of bad memories.”

“That’s okay.” He smiled at me. “You were right. You’ve got some great intuition too. Maybe you should work for the FBI.”

“Thanks. But I don’t think so.” I sighed and held the gloves, looking at them. “How would I learn to control it?”

“Sit down, Dae,” he said, and when I wouldn’t, he fetched a towel for me to sit on.

We were close together, facing each other, the firelight throwing shadows across the room. He took my hands in his and told me to focus.

“The only thing we can control about the things that happen to us is our reaction. I learned that at the beginning of my FBI career. In your case, the only thing you can control is your reaction to what you touch. You have to get ready for it mentally, then keep it from affecting you on a deeper level.”

“And how do I do that?” It sounded hopeless to me.

“Close your eyes and concentrate. Know that you’re going to be affected and be ready for it. Did you ever play softball?”

“A little in school.”

“It’s like that. You mentally prepare yourself to catch the ball as it comes toward you. You know it’s coming, and your brain gets ready to catch it by working out its trajectory and speed.”

“Okay. I think for me that might be more like riding a wave,” I explained. “When I used to surf, I’d watch and wait for the right wave, then get ready for it as it came at me.”

“That’s it exactly! Prepare yourself in that same way for the feeling that’s going to come at you from something you touch,” he said. “Then when it happens, you won’t be so thrown by it.”

My eyes popped open. I was feeling a little silly and very vulnerable discussing my inner workings with him. I also couldn’t help wondering if this was something he had suggested to Ann to help her. “That’s a great idea, Kevin. I’ll try it right now with this dress.”

“Are you sure?” He picked up the strawberry-colored dress he’d brought out for me. “Maybe you should practice on a few of your own things first.”

I looked at the pretty red dress. It was made in a style from the 1940s, maybe even earlier. Wide shoulders, narrow waist, it was satin covered in a delicate lacework. “I think I can do it.”

“All right. If you’re sure. Think of it like the next wave,” he encouraged. “You’re prepared for it. You know what’s going to happen when you touch it. Create a space between you and the outside emotions.”

I was determined to best this new ability. I had prepared mentally my whole life to handle this kind of thing. I never knew for sure what would happen when I went into someone’s head to help them find something they’d lost.

I swallowed hard on my fear, tried to think about controlling what I’d feel from the dress, and reached out to touch it.

It would be so simple. Close your eyes and walk into the water. No more pain. I gasped as emotions flooded through me.

The dress was handmade for a woman named Adelaide. Her nickname was Addie. She met here frequently with Bunk Whitley. The two shared a clandestine love affair. Addie was married and had a child. She was happy sometimes, but there was too much heartache.

Her sorrow swallowed me, drowning me in a wave I couldn’t swim out of.

“Dae!” Kevin called my name several times with urgency. “Get out of it! Control it!”

One minute I was drowning and the next I was sitting on the floor, gasping for air. “I think she was wearing this dress right before she killed herself. She was standing at the window over there thinking about drowning herself.” I tried to breathe and talk at the same time. I ended up coughing. “She killed herself because of Bunk Whitley.”

Kevin put his arms around me and held me for a long time, both of us sitting on the floor in front of the fire that crackled and steamed as it burned down. “Never mind. Forget what I said about controlling it.” He kissed the top of my head. “Maybe you should just wear the damn gloves. That was too much. I thought I’d lost you.”

I leaned my head on his shoulder, recovering from the feelings left in the dress from so many years ago. Glad I hadn’t actually put it on. “There was no way to know what would happen. I had to try it. I wonder if anyone knows what happened to Adelaide.”