“As far as I can tell,” Tim added, “Bunk Whitley confessed to killing Sam Meacham. Walt Peabody needs to be in on this too, don’t you think, Chief?”
“You might be right. Give him a call. Maybe he’d like to come along on this wild goose chase too.” Chief Michaels nodded to me. “Glad you got back safely, Mayor. Next time you want to investigate one of my cases, let me know and I’ll deputize you.”
We both knew he was kidding. You couldn’t tell it from looking at his face, but he was quite a wit sometimes. He’d homed right in on Bunk being responsible for everything despite what I’d told him about Roger. I thought that was a mistake.
He and Tim left my office. Nancy followed them, probably figuring the public part of my adventure was over. She was right. There was still a lot to tackle, but the rest didn’t need to be in the town’s records.
Gramps glanced at his watch and pushed himself out of his chair. “Look at the time! I’ve got poker night and don’t have a chip or cookie in the house. I’ll see you at home later, Dae. See you, Kevin.”
I had a few fences to mend with Kevin, though I would’ve rather talked to Gramps about my father right now. But the secret had been there for all of my life, if what Bunk said was true. I supposed it could wait a little longer.
When we were alone in my closed office, I glanced at Kevin. He’d been very quiet through my tale and its ensuing discussion. “So what do you think?”
“I think you lied to me last night, then needlessly endangered yourself by leaving your cell phone at home so you wouldn’t have to talk to me. Not to mention going down to the docks to try and prove your theory without thinking about the consequences.”
“Oh. I guess that about sums it up.” My words were bright and aided by my larger-than-life mayor’s smile, but I felt kind of bad for doing all the things he’d just listed. Or maybe getting caught doing them. “Are you angry?”
“At you?” He shook his head. “At me, yes. I can’t believe you blindsided me. After all those years learning to tell the difference between someone lying and telling the truth, you’d think I’d know better.”
“So you’re really angry.”
“I would be if I wasn’t so damn relieved that you aren’t dead. I guess I’ll learn from this experience. Your grandfather told me you gave in too easily last night when I asked you to step back. Next time I’ll know better.”
I wasn’t sure whether or not to be glad that he wasn’t mad. All of that sounded pretty ominous. “I didn’t want to lie to you, Kevin.”
“I know. I’ve been there. I guess when I envision scenarios like amateurs getting caught snooping around and tossed into boats, the outcome I picture is usually not as good as this one.”
“I’m glad you understand.” I hoped that’s what he was saying anyway. If not, this might be a good time to change the subject. “I haven’t really eaten all day. Would you like to grab something at Wild Stallions?”
“I have to go back to the hotel for a delivery. After that, I’m free. Unless you want to eat there.”
I thought about the gold in the red box on my desk. “That might be a good idea actually. There’s one thing I left out of my tale to the chief.” I handed him the red box. “It’s Bunk Whitley’s gift to the new museum. I think the Blue Whale is a fitting place for it.”
He opened up the red box and stared at the gold for a minute. “This was a big part to leave out of the story, Dae. The chief might have to take this in as evidence.”
“Well, not today anyway. Can’t we put it in your safe for tonight and I’ll ask him about it tomorrow?”
He smiled and closed the box. “Yes we can, and I’ll ask him about it tomorrow.”
We walked out of my office and said good-bye to Nancy. “I guess that means you’re never going to trust me again, huh?”
He put his arm around my shoulder. “Not for a while.”
“That doesn’t sound like a good way to have a relationship.”
“I guess that all depends. It might be the only way to have a relationship with you. Otherwise, you might not be here to have a relationship with. How does minestrone sound? I have a pot simmering on the stove.”
“It sounds good enough to forgive you for nicely calling me a liar. Let’s go.”
It was a strange feeling sitting across from Agnes and eating soup. Celia and Vicky talked about going shopping for new winter boots and asked how long it would be before the insurance money came through for their mother’s house.
I didn’t know if it was my responsibility to tell them about their heritage. I couldn’t prove that what Bunk had claimed was true. I didn’t even mention him or what had happened to me today. I listened to the women chatter, looking up to find Kevin’s gaze on me.
“What?” I put down my soup and reached for a cheese cube.
“How’s the soup?” he asked.
“Good. Very good.”
“Not quiche, though, huh?”
I glanced at Agnes and her daughters, who’d stopped their conversation to listen to ours. “I’m not much of a quiche eater. These cheese cubes are good too. Who made them?”
Celia laughed. “Happy cows in California via Harris Teeter, I think. I cut them.”
“You did a wonderful job,” I commended.
Agnes said, “I’m on my way to the historical society meeting. We’re talking about a place to put all the donations. I think Mildred Mason is donating her sister’s house to be the new museum. It would be called the Elizabeth Simpson Historical Museum.”
“That would be great,” I answered. “Max always hoped that would happen.”
“I’m sorry it had to take his death to bring it about.” She pushed aside the rest of her soup. “Still, I know you’re right. He’d be thrilled. I know the board will accept it without any problem. All we’ll have to do is fund-raise for the money to pay the taxes and upkeep. It’s a good deal.”
It was all I could do not to tell her about Bunk. But how would I explain it, and why would she believe it? Later, after the others were gone and Kevin and I were cleaning up, I mentioned my reluctance to share Bunk’s claims. “I think it was best not to mention it,” I said.
“I agree,” Kevin replied, reassuring me. “It’s terrible timing for Agnes, and there’s no proof. There may never be any proof, Dae. You might have to live with that secret.”
“I know.”
He took me home a short while later. I still wasn’t done thinking about everything I’d learned on the island. “There must be someway to prove Bunk is Agnes’s father.”
“Paternity tests,” he said. “If both of them were willing. But that opens a whole new can of worms. It wouldn’t really benefit Agnes to know that the man who raised her wasn’t her father. I don’t think that’s something you’d want to know either.”
“I suppose that’s true.” I thought about the questions screaming in my brain about my own father.
“Like knowing that her mother committed suicide because she and Bunk couldn’t be together, some information doesn’t serve the general good. In this case, it might be best to let the past stay buried.”
“I know you’re right.”
“But you want to clear Bunk of Max’s murder.”
“Yes, but only so we can find the real killer. You saw the way the chief went after Sam as a suspect. Now that he knows about Bunk, we may never know the truth.”
“You mean once he can prove that Bunk did anything. Confessing to you is one thing, Dae. Telling Chief Michaels is another. What’s going on here? Is there a party you forgot to tell me about?”
He’d started to pull into my driveway, but it was full of cars—police cars. One other car and a van were parked on the street.