“Or I could touch every boat.” I wished his point weren’t so valid. “But how will the chief find him? There are hundreds of fishermen who go in and out of here all the time. He might not even be from Duck.”
“That’s true,” Kevin agreed. “Is that all Agnes knew about him?”
“She knew what bar they’d met at, but that was five years ago. He might not frequent that place anymore. I don’t think she’d recognize him.”
“The chief could check to see if any gold was stolen about the time Max got the windfall. It would make sense that a thief might give him a small amount to keep him quiet.”
I got up from the sofa to stand in front of the massive fireplace. “Why not just kill him right away? Why give him a bunch of gold for his wife’s surgery, then threaten him for years? It doesn’t make any sense.”
“I know you have questions about why your friend died,” Kevin said. “I know you want to do this by yourself. I understand that urge, and I know I’ve been a bad influence helping you. I should’ve just asked you out to begin with.”
He got up and stood close to me, his gray-blue eyes very intent on mine. “But this could be dangerous, Dae, as well as illegal. I don’t know how else to say it to keep you out of the situation.”
I wanted to argue with him, but I could see it was a losing battle. I wanted to find Max’s killer. I wanted to understand why these awful events had happened. I wasn’t afraid of any consequences from the police, even though I was already on Brad’s radar.
I hated to do it—I had no choice but to lie to Kevin. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I didn’t do all I could to help. “Okay. You win. I’ll tell Chief Michaels in the morning. Happy?”
“Only if you tell him everything, not the abbreviated version you told your grandfather. I’ll go with you if you want me to.”
“I’ll be fine, thanks. I hope this is the right thing to do.” And by that I mean lying to you and leaving you out of what needs to be done.
“It will be.” He paused. “Are you up for a walk on the beach?”
“That sounds perfect. We should have a good view of the lighthouse lamps tonight.”
“Good. You can point them out.”
I really meant to do something about talking to Chief Michaels by Monday morning. Sunday came and went with no opportunity presenting itself. Maybe I didn’t try hard enough because my heart wasn’t in it. I wasn’t sure what I was going to say to him anyway that would make Kevin feel better while still advancing my cause.
So Monday morning I went out early and left my cell phone at home. I had a feeling Kevin might try to call me and ask how my meeting with the chief went. What would I say?
It gave me a very small window to prove my theory before I’d have to either tell Kevin the truth—that I’d lied to him—or tell the chief about the man who may have killed Max.
Not wanting to do either of those things, I left Gramps a note saying that I was busy at the shop for the day. I didn’t really have any idea what I should do, but I set out for the docks.
It was a foggy morning, which meant the fishermen would be hanging around waiting for the weather to clear. I had no idea how I was going to tell one fisherman from another or which of them knew Max. I thought if I hung around I might get lucky.
If the fisherman was the same man who went out on the Segway with Sam, he might be wearing the odd ring I’d seen in my vision. I was betting those things went together. It wasn’t a coincidence that Sam was dead too. Whatever Max was into had doomed Sam as well.
The docks had once been an infamous place where pirates and other nefarious gentlemen spent time with women of ill repute. Residents foolish enough to venture here might end up serving a captain of a pirate vessel or find themselves doing a gallows jig.
Now the docks were more a tourist area. At one time they had provided the people of Duck with a livelihood from fishing. Now it was more dinner cruises and charter boats. But fishermen still went out, and their catch went to hotels and restaurants whose patrons demanded fresh fish.
The boats were all moored along the piers waiting for the sun to burn away the fog. Their captains and crews sat at the quayside drinking coffee from thermoses or hanging out at the few remaining bars. These places still served rum and beer, but they also made a pretty good breakfast and were known for their steaks and seafood. The tourist trade kept everything clean and open. There was money to be made by providing what visitors needed.
I looked carefully at the boats, especially the ones that seemed seaworthy enough to go a little further from shore. I knew there were islands off the coast of the Outer Banks where few tourists ever roamed. Most of these were owned by wealthy individuals or the government. It seemed likely to me that one of these would have been Max’s destination where he met his wealthy benefactor.
I put out my hand to touch the first one and brought it back before it got close enough to the bow. I’d lost my courage after Saturday’s incident. Maybe I could tell something from the boats, but I couldn’t work myself up to it. I wasn’t back to wearing gloves, but I needed to be cautious. I wouldn’t do Max any good if I couldn’t control what happened to me when I saw something.
I sat down on one of the benches next to a group of boats. It was cool in the ghostly fog. Icy crystals lodged themselves on windows and the flat surfaces of hulls. The names of the boats were colorful—White Wave, Jezebel, Ocean Sprite and Better Luck Next Time.
I saw Gramps’s boat—the Eleanore—named for my grandmother. She was a sleek, twenty-two-foot charter boat with a few berths in the stern and a sturdy hull that had seen her through many storms over the years. She could raise sail or slice quickly through the water using her powerful built-in engine.
I had many happy memories of being onboard the Eleanore . We’d had birthday parties with dolphins swimming nearby and beautiful sunsets for the Fourth of July. I hadn’t been out on the boat for a long time. Gramps frequently asked me to go out with him, but it never seemed like there was enough time.
Realizing Gramps could be here somewhere hanging out with his friends and waiting to take a charter out made me doubly cautious. He’d be a lot harder to explain to than Kevin. If he’d been with Kevin and me at the inn last night, he would have seen right through my sudden willingness to share information with Chief Michaels. I might be able to keep information from him, but I could never lie to him.
I resolved to touch every boat at the docks, if necessary, until I could find the right one. Obviously I couldn’t spend time in the bars and risk seeing Gramps, so this seemed like the only way.
I had just steeled myself for the first touch, choosing the Jezebel as my first victim, when a swirl of fog moved away from another boat further down the pier. It was named Golden Day. How could I resist? The name was like a sign from the heavens that this was the right boat.
I looked around a little first. It was a few feet longer than Gramps’s boat and definitely in better condition. It was probably a lot more expensive too.
I didn’t see anyone. I decided to take my chances and stepped onboard. I laid my hand down flat on the deck, but before any image could form, a strong hand pushed me from behind and I tumbled down the stairs into the living quarters. Before I could get back on my feet, the door from above was closed. I heard the sound of a dead bolt scraping into place.
“Hey! Let me out!” I pounded on the door, but there was no response.
Before I could draw another breath to scream for help, the boat’s powerful engine started, blocking out any sound I could make. Within the next two minutes, the boat was leaving the docks and heading out to sea.