A Timely Vision

“Not usually.” I glanced at him. “I guess this is where the fat hits the fire, as Gramps always says.”

“Just remember to be vague about what you know. Let them word it.”

“I’m the mayor. They taught us that in mayor school.”

“You went to school to be a mayor?” Kevin raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“Sure.” I fastened on my big smile and pointed to my face. “Always smile. They taught me that too. Here goes.”

Jerry Richards led the pack of reporters coming my way. I felt like I was in one of those battles you see on TV where the good guys are hopelessly outnumbered. There we were, rushing at each other across the park. Their weapons were microphones and cameras. Mine seemed to be my big mayoral smile and, hopefully, sparkling wit.

We confronted each other, the reporters surrounding me as we met. I was amazed that Jerry had the nerve to confront me so openly. He had to be very sure that I wouldn’t out him on the sale of the properties. I had to bite my tongue not to say what I wanted.

“Mayor O’Donnell,” he addressed me first, “what’s the big secret regarding the death of Elizabeth Simpson?”

“I’m not at liberty to say. I’ll have a statement ready for you when I am.” I tried glaring at him, hoping he’d back off. No such luck.

“Isn’t it true that you’ve been working with the police to try and clear Mildred Mason of the charges against her?”

It had to be a slow news day. There were reporters here from Virginia Beach and Raleigh. Surely they had a news story more interesting than me to report on. I was glad Kevin had been enclosed in the circle of reporters too. I wasn’t nervous exactly, although I wasn’t used to this much attention. I could see the people standing in the park waiting to do tai chi. Andy Martin had a disapproving frown on his face. Apparently he didn’t like reporters interrupting his class.

“I can’t comment on that at this time.” I smiled and waved to Andy to let him know I was on my way.

Suddenly Jerry lunged closer to me. I jumped back in reflex, not liking the feral gleam in his eyes. “Maybe you’d like to tell me what kind of mumbo jumbo you were doing with my great aunt yesterday,” he muttered so the other reporters couldn’t hear what he was saying.

I didn’t plan to answer that. I wanted to set him back by accusing him of trying to steal Miss Mildred’s house. But before I could form the words, Jerry was pushed up and away from me. In an instant, Kevin had him down on the ground, holding Jerry’s arms behind his back while the cameraman filmed the whole thing. It was like a scene out of TV movie in which the FBI agent finally apprehends the bad guy.

I tried nonverbally to remind him that he wasn’t an FBI agent anymore and that Jerry wasn’t a perp, but that wasn’t working so I yelled, “Kevin!”

“I hope you’re getting this,” Jerry yelled to his cameraman. “I’m going to sue for assault. You can’t manhandle the press.”

“I’m the mayor’s bodyguard,” Kevin growled. “I can do whatever is necessary to assure her safety. You look like a threat to me.”

I could see this wasn’t going to end well. Kevin was trying to help but possibly overdoing it, although I’m not sure why Jerry invaded my personal space. That had never happened before. I took a step toward them with the overeager eyes of the rest of the press following me. “Kevin, let him go. Jerry, don’t threaten me. Not unless you want everyone here to know about you selling Miss Mildred’s house out from under her. It makes you a good murder suspect, don’t you think?”

Kevin let him go with a reluctance I could feel. Jerry straightened his blue suit and picked up his microphone, though he held it at his side. “I have an alibi for the Simpson murder,” he hissed.

“So who’d you hire to do it?” Kevin demanded in a low whisper.

That made Jerry back off. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Of course not,” I said sarcastically. “But I’m wondering who you had ransack Miss Mildred’s house. Because I think you’re responsible for that too.”

“You’re crazy. But you won’t stop me. Everything I’m doing is totally legal. If you don’t think so, ask the sheriff or the clerk of court. They can tell you.” He signaled to his cameraman, and the two of them stalked away, leaving the rest of the press confused and wondering what had happened. Mostly wondering what they’d missed.

“What’s up with you and Jerry?” Tom Murray from the Virginia Beach newspaper asked. “Is that guy really your bodyguard? Has someone threatened you, Mayor O’Donnell?”

“I’m sorry. I have nothing else to say at this time. I’ll have our town clerk get in touch with each of you when I release my statement. Thank you for visiting Duck today. I hope you’ll stay and take in the sights.”

Kevin and I hustled out of the crowd and headed across the park where Andy was already starting his tai chi class. “Thanks, I think,” I said to Kevin as we walked across the dew-covered grass.

“I thought he was getting too close.” He shrugged. “We don’t know what that guy is capable of yet. Sorry if I scared you.”

“I think you scared him a lot more. I should take you along to all my press functions. Not that most of them are that dramatic. But you could liven them up.”

“Better to act when you’re not sure.”

“I agree.” I put my hand on his arm, enjoying the little tingle that accompanied the contact. “Thank you for protecting me.”

“My pleasure.”

I spent the next twenty minutes with Andy’s tai chi class. Except that once I got there, they didn’t want to do tai chi anymore. They wanted to ask me questions about what had happened with the press. Then they wanted to ask me questions about Miss Mildred. By the time I was done answering questions, Tai Chi Time on the Green was over.

“Sorry.” I smiled at Andy. “If I’d known this would happen, I would’ve called and canceled.”

“That’s okay.” He stood close to me, staring at Kevin, who was a few yards away, waiting and watching. “Is that guy really your bodyguard? Did the town pay him to be here?”

I reassured him that no one had paid for Kevin to be here. I knew there would still be questions about it at the next town council meeting. That’s the way it goes when you’re a public figure who could be spending the town’s tax money.

With all the excitement behind us (I hoped), Kevin and I walked back to the Coffee House where word of the encounter had already made the Duck grapevine. People stood back when they saw Kevin, even moving out of line to let us order first. Seriously, I could get used to that kind of respect!

“Don’t you run the Blue Whale?” Mr. Finklestein, one of our New Jersey immigrants, asked Kevin while Phil made our coffee.

“I do.” Kevin shook his hand. “Or I will, when I finally get it open.”

“Good deal! You do what needs to be done, young man! That’s the way to live!”

Our presence silenced the chatter that usually drowned out the sound of the espresso machine. Everyone seemed to be watching us to see what would happen next. I decided getting first place in the coffee line wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. I could almost hear the sighs of relief when we walked out the door.

“Where to now?” Kevin asked, sipping his triple-shot latte.

“I’m going to open Missing Pieces, as usual. I think I should be safe there. You must need to go back to the Blue Whale.”

“Actually, there’s not much I can do there anyway. I’ll hang out at your shop for a while.”

I didn’t want to hurt his feelings or sound ungrateful, but I also didn’t want him glowering at my customers. “No, really, I’ll be fine. Maybe we could meet later for dinner or something.”

I guess he understood because he agreed to meet me for lunch. That was some reprieve anyway. He cautioned me about wandering around the boardwalk alone, and we parted ways close to town hall.

I checked in with Nancy, who was frantically trying to find volunteers to help set up Turtle Rescue Day. “Mary Lou called in here a while ago. Some of her volunteers are out sick, but they have a lot to do to get ready for tomorrow. I hate to ask, Dae, but could you go over there? They need people to take supplies out to the beach. You know most of those turtle rescue people don’t drive anymore and don’t walk so good either.”