calmer. The only business we conducted was to approve sending Miss Mildred a condolence card and flowers for the funeral.
Afterward, people stood around talking, debating whether everything that could be done was being done. Chief Michaels brooded over it for a few minutes before gruffly thanking me and leaving the building.
“You did a good job,” Tim Mabry said as he approached me with a big grin plastered on his face. He took out his nightstick and patted the palm of his hand with it. “We could’ve handled it. There was no reason to worry.”
“I don’t think two police officers launching themselves on a group of townspeople in front of TV cameras is such a great idea. It’s best this way.” I gathered my papers and folder together. There was no reason to hang around.
“I’d be glad to walk you home if you’re scared,” he said.
“I’m not. But thanks. I’ll see you later.” I smiled as I made my retreat. A group of people were holding a candlelight vigil in Duck Municipal Park. I couldn’t avoid the town meeting since it was part of my job, but now that it was over, I wanted to head down that way. Maybe going through the grief process with the group would be good for me.
“Mayor O’Donnell!” Jerry Richards called out. “Remember me? From the interview after the Fourth of July parade?”
“Of course.” I shook his hand, not looking at the TV camera over his shoulder but aware of it.
“The death of Elizabeth Simpson, of course. It’s such a tragedy. I thought we might talk about it.”
“I don’t think so. Excuse me, Jerry.”
“But, Mayor—”
I didn’t answer and didn’t turn back. Talking about what had happened on TV wasn’t my idea of helping anyone. I hoped he wouldn’t follow me. Luckily, I managed to avoid the second TV crew outside. I checked my watch. It was slightly after eight P.M. The vigil had already begun. I had a white, gardenia-scented candle in my purse from Shayla’s shop. It was supposed to help with grief and give peace to Miss Elizabeth’s soul.
I’d barely stepped off the boardwalk outside of town hall when someone came up beside me. I turned to face the person, ready to fend off another reporter, and was surprised to see Kevin there instead. “I hope you don’t have any questions.”
“Not me. I saw you inspecting that candle in your purse before the meeting. I thought you were probably headed for the vigil.”
“Is there anything you
“I’ve been meaning to come, but I’ve been busy. You did quite a number up there with that gavel.”
“A good mayor has to know when to be firm. I know everyone is upset about Miss Elizabeth, but we still have to conduct the town’s business.”
“And how are you holding up, Dae?”
“I’m doing as well as I can given the circumstances.” I didn’t want to mention my fears about finding more dead bodies. “I’m not afraid to be out on the streets. Just because one bad thing has happened doesn’t mean the whole town is bad.”
“That’s true.”
We walked along Duck Road in companionable silence as cars crept by us, caught in summer traffic on the two-lane road. Kevin wasn’t a nervous, chattering kind of person like Tim. I was grateful for that.
“I guess everyone in Duck knows that you find things,” he said as we passed Andy’s Ice Cream.
“Everyone who lives here full-time anyway. My grandmother found things too. The older folks remember her. People here accept that I find things the same way they accept that I have blue eyes. It’s part of who I am.”
“You’ve never been tested for the extent of your psychometric abilities?”
“No. I didn’t even know it was called that until we had the Internet.” The night was warm but clear, stars twinkling down at us from the dark sky. Pieces of tree branches still littered the street. I made a mental note to get after the town maintenance people. Sand was everywhere, of course. It wasn’t easy keeping that where it belonged.
I could hear Reverend Lisa leading the singing in the park. Lisa is a large woman who lives life in a big way. She has a booming, unmistakable voice that could probably carry from one end of Duck to the other. Tonight, it sounded like the angels singing from beneath the trees. The lights in the park glowed softly around the candles held by at least fifty hands.
“We can talk later, maybe when you come by to find my lost key.” He nodded toward the group. “I know you miss your friend. I’m sorry for your loss.”
“Thanks.” Realizing all over again that Miss Elizabeth was gone, I sniffed and wiped my eyes. “I was able to pull the council meeting together, but I’m kind of a mess when I’m not being the mayor.” I took out my candle and searched my pocket for the match I must’ve dropped.
Kevin lit the candle for me with his cigarette lighter. “I used to smoke. I never got over the habit of carrying a lighter.”
I thought he’d probably drift away, like sea foam, as I walked up to the group, but to my surprise, he stayed with me. We found a spot near the edge of the crowd, and I took a moment to glance around. The candlelight illuminated the tears and anger on the faces of the people I’d grown up with.
It was hard dealing with Miss Elizabeth’s loss. Maybe it would be easier if there was someone to direct our anger at. But so far, there was no one. I guessed it was too much to expect the guilty party to come forward and turn themselves in. All we could do was wait.
“Our good friend and neighbor, Miss Elizabeth Simpson, would not want to see us standing here feeling bad about her death,” Reverend Lisa was saying. “She’d want us to go out and tell people about her and her life here in Duck. She’d want us to carry on. That’s what we have to do, folks. We have to put on a smile Miss Elizabeth can see all the way in heaven, because we all know that’s where she is.”
“We don’t know that.” Suddenly Miss Mildred’s voice filled the silence after Lisa stopped speaking. “Why do we always assume people go to heaven, even bad people like Lizzie?”
“She’s overwrought,” whispered a woman beside me. “She doesn’t know what she’s saying.”
The group moved aside as Miss Mildred’s frail form continued past them until she was standing beside Lisa under the streetlight. It created a halo around her white hair but left her face in darkness. “Lizzie wasn’t the good person you all think she was. She took Johnny Simpson from me. She was fast with the judge in the Duck beauty pageant. She took things from me all of my life. She was my sister, but she did evil things. I don’t think God wants her in heaven.”
Lisa smiled and tried to gloss over Miss Mildred’s harsh words. “I’m sure we could all judge the people we love. We know their strengths and their weaknesses, don’t we? But in the end, Miss Elizabeth was a good person who didn’t deserve to die alone out there on the beach.”
The group of mourners agreed with her, and Lisa started singing again, probably hoping she could change the mood and help Miss Mildred out of the awkward situation she’d created.
“She doesn’t sound like she loved her sister the way the rest of you did,” Kevin commented.
“She’s old and she’s in shock,” I reminded him. “They feuded and fussed like all sisters. But they loved each other.”
“You’re right. I wish I’d had a sister, but I was an only child. What about you?”
“I’m an only child too. I wish I would’ve had a sibling when I was growing up. Even a brother would’ve been okay.” I joined the others in singing, putting my whole heart into “Amazing Grace,” and smiled as I heard Kevin’s baritone beside me. Chief Michaels was right. Kevin might be from somewhere else, but he belonged here in Duck.
I watched as Mary Lou took Miss Mildred’s arm and led her back out of the crowd, toward home. Miss Mildred was tearful and seemed confused. She went with Mary Lou, but she wasn’t happy about it. The two ladies were swallowed up in the darkness as they left the park, and the group came together again. I was glad Mary Lou had rescued Miss Mildred. I guessed that’s what she did best—rescuing. Kind of like how I found things.
The singing ended and was followed by an emotional moment when we were all supposed to blow out our candles at the same time to signify the passing of Miss Elizabeth. But before anyone could exhale, a brisk breeze blew up off of the water behind us and snuffed out the tiny fires. There were murmurs of ghostly visitation as the
