meeting would be. It looked like people wanted to hear what the chief had to say about the explosion at the museum.
Shayla stopped me as I started up to the boardwalk, demanding to know where I was all afternoon. “I thought we had an appointment to go over your chakra again.”
I admired the beautiful black shawl she wore with such flair. Shawls always looked awkward on me, and I was never sure what to do with them. Usually I ended up taking them off. “Sorry. I forgot. There was so much going on.”
Her eyes narrowed as she looked me over. “It wouldn’t have anything to do with you seeing Kevin, would it? Your chakra is a little fuzzy today but better than yesterday.”
Obviously, Old Man Sweeney had been happy to share his knowledge of my whereabouts with the rest of the town. “Shayla—”
“Don’t bother explaining, Dae. Kevin doesn’t want me anymore. Maybe he wants you. But for how long? The man is fickle.”
“I don’t know,” I admitted, feeling bad for her. “Look, we had dinner at the Inn so I could look for a wine cask he was missing. It wasn’t anything serious.”
“So you aren’t dating now?” Her brown eyes narrowed, gauging my response, until I thought she might be asleep. Except for that terrible frown.
I wanted to lie. Even though I was usually jealous of Shayla and her laid-back, Big Easy attitude, I wanted to reassure her that she wasn’t being left out. But how could I after what had happened between Kevin and me? Besides, there was no point in not telling her something she was bound to find out anyway. “We’re sort of dating, I guess.”
“Ha!” She wrapped her beautiful shawl around her slender body and marched up the stairs.
“What does that mean?” I yelled after her despite the looks from all the people who were on their way to town hall.
“It means if you lie like that, Dae, your nose could grow like the doll in the fairy tale.”
I stormed up the stairs to stand beside her. “Puppet,” I corrected automatically. “Pinocchio was a puppet.”
“Doll. Puppet. Whatever. You
“You dated him already and broke up with him,” I reminded her. “That kind of makes him fair game.”
“Fair game?” She pursed her lips. “If you weren’t my friend, I’d slap you. He’s not fair game. We were taking a break, that’s all. We never said we wouldn’t get back together again.”
“Then I guess you will,
She stared at me as if wishing I were a voodoo doll she could put pins in—then walked into town hall alone.
I sighed, trying not to think about it, at least not for a while. I needed to be clearheaded about what I’d say at the meeting. Then I could mull it over and decide if being with Kevin would be worth jeopardizing my friendship with Shayla.
Inside, town hall was filled to capacity. People were standing along the side walls and sitting on the floor. Nancy was scurrying around trying to find chairs for as many people as she could. “We’re gonna have to find a bigger place,” she huffed as she went by.
I took my spot at the head of the council table and looked at my nameplate. I chose the small, wood gavel that bore the name of the town. I was the first person to use the gavel—the first mayor since incorporation. It was an awesome responsibility sometimes. Not all ribbon cuttings and public appearances at the Jaycees’. There were times, like tonight, when a big smile wouldn’t suffice.
I knew people wanted words of comfort. I could give them those words, but something about the set of Chief Michaels’s mouth told me he’d be more to the point. I guessed we each had our duty to do.
When the room couldn’t hold any more and the sound of so many people talking at once made my head feel like it was going to explode, I called the meeting to order. Residents sat down politely and stopped talking. Reverend Lisa gave the invocation, which included words of memorial for Max.
The room got very quiet after that. Because it wasn’t a regular meeting of the town council, there were no minutes to read or town business to talk about. I started to speak, but Councilman Wilson cut me off. “We need to know what’s being done about the museum and Max Caudle’s death. No fancy words are going to take care of the problem.”
Even for Randal “Mad Dog” Wilson, this was abrupt and bordering on rude. I’d heard rumors that he planned to challenge me for mayor in next year’s election. I hadn’t expected he’d start so soon. On the other hand, when would he ever have another audience like this one?
“I don’t have any fancy words for what’s happened.” I got to my feet and addressed all the people I knew so well. “This has been a terrible time for Duck and for all of us. The police are doing everything they can to find out who’s responsible for the explosion.”
“If Chief Michaels was really doing his job, this wouldn’t have happened,” Councilman Wilson continued. “I checked today while Mayor O’Donnell was out gallivanting around with a certain innkeeper and found out that we don’t even have a plan for a terrorist attack. What kind of preparation is that?”
“I can’t speak for Chief Michaels, and I won’t defend how I spent my day. But I would like to remind the councilman that he’s been in elected office as long as I have. It seems odd to me that he only recently realized there were any problems in Duck.”
Councilman Wilson lumbered to his feet. He was a large man—easily six-four and three hundred pounds. “In answer to the mayor’s challenge—”
“Are we here to talk about what happened at the museum or to listen to politics?” Chief Michaels demanded. His words were met with applause from residents. “That’s what I thought. I’m here to tell all of you what I know about the explosion. You may not like what I have to say, but I promise you it will be the truth.”
I felt a little embarrassed, even though I was only defending myself against Councilman Wilson’s attacks. I realized then the election wasn’t going to be a walk in the park. I was the only one who’d run for mayor in our first municipal election. Now that I’d been mayor for two years, I was going to have to defend all my actions to everyone. Was that something I was prepared to do?
Chief Michaels was explaining what happened at the museum to the rapt audience. “We located what we believe are Mr. Caudle’s remains in the building after the explosion. We’re currently waiting for DNA reports to come back and confirm what we found.”
“What about the pirate curse?” Joe Endy asked, raising his raspy voice to be heard in the room. “Rafe Masterson paid Max a visit, I’ll be bound. He took his gold back too. Nothing much you can do about it, Chief.”
“And I wouldn’t even try, Mr. Endy,” Chief Michaels told him. “Folks, I’m here to tell you that no pirate ghost is responsible for what happened to Max. I know all of you, some since you were kids. I like a good yarn as much as the next one, but that’s all Rafe Masterson is. A real flesh-and-blood killer is responsible for Max’s death and the mayor being injured. That scares me a hell of a lot more than any pirate ghost.”
Mr. Endy didn’t look too pleased with the chief’s statement. People usually humored the ninety-year-old around here. The chief had been a little blunt by Duck standards.
“So if it’s a real person responsible,” began Cody Baucum, one of the owners of the Wild Stallions bar and grill on the boardwalk, “do we have any leads about who it is?”
“We’re checking out every aspect of the situation,” Chief Michaels replied.
“In other words, no,” August Grandin said. He owned the General Store. “That’s police speak for we don’t know, right, Chief?”
The room kind of got out of control for a minute. I banged my gavel a few times and people began to settle down. I noticed Agnes Caudle in the back of the room as she slowly got to her feet. Seeing her there, the crowd quieted.
“I’d like to thank Chief Michaels and his officers as well as the members of the Duck Volunteer Fire Department for everything they’ve done. Max is gone, but he believed in this town. He wouldn’t want what happened to tear us apart. We have good people here, and they do the best job they can. Shame on any of you who don’t support them. That’s all I came to say.”
Agnes sat back down, wiping her eyes. She and Max had two daughters, who now sat on either side of their