A Touch of Gold

“Max hypothesized that Theo took on a new persona when she found herself shipwrecked here. Or maybe she couldn’t remember who she was. We might never know. But I have a miniature portrait that looks just like this—maybe she was a few years older. The face is unmistakable.”

“Are you sure? No one in my family has ever mentioned anything about it. Was it possible they didn’t know?”

“Maybe there could be some mention of it in your family history. All of your relatives kept such good records. Remember when we found the mention of the first church built in Duck through your relative’s Bible?”

Her brows knit together above intelligent brown eyes. “I think there’s a diary. I’ll have to check with my mother. To think we could be related to Theodosia Burr Alston! It would be wonderful! Those ladies in the Duck Historical Society would be green! But I thought Theodosia died at sea—killed by pirates.”

“If you could find that diary and we could compare my picture to the one in the locket, we might know for sure.”

“You’re right of course! I’ll get everyone in the family together, and we’ll see what we can find. This is so exciting! How I wish Max were here to tell us all what to do. I miss him so.”

I took a deep breath. “Could I hold the bracelet, Mrs. Stanley? Just for a moment.”

“Of course!” She took it out of her pocket again.

“Dae?” Kevin caught my attention.

“It’s fine,” I answered. “You’re here to catch me, right?”

He nodded. “I’m here.”

Mrs. Stanley smiled. “How very nice for you, Dae. You have a new beau.” She put out her hand, and I took the bracelet from her.

Warmth. Laughter. A sparkling emotion that was love as she watched him put it on her wrist. He kissed her hand as he finished, and she threaded her fingers through his dark hair.

I couldn’t see her face, but I knew—I knew that it was Theodosia. I could feel it. There was no doubt that this bracelet and the matching locket belonged to her.

“It was handmade by a traveling jeweler who created one-of-a-kind treasures. He gave it to her for her birthday. She was his wife. They loved each other so deeply.” I sighed over the tender emotion without realizing it.

“My goodness.” Mrs. Stanley said. “All of that from the bracelet? Your gift is growing, Dae!”

Mrs. Stanley put on her poncho and promised to let me know if any progress was made toward finding the missing locket and diary. She smiled at Kevin and shook his hand before leaving the shop.

“That was a risk,” Kevin warned when she was gone. “It could’ve involved her death or some other calamity hidden in the emotions of the bracelet.”

“It could’ve,” I agreed. “But it didn’t. It was one of the loveliest feelings I’ve ever felt. They were so in love.”

“I think you’re missing the point. You knew what you needed to know from the locket. Why touch the bracelet?”

“I thought there might be something else and there was. I’m fine. You don’t need to worry so much. I can handle this.”

“It’s too new for you to know what you can handle.”

I smiled at him and kissed his cheek, still feeling the afterglow of the romantic emotions between Theodosia and her Banker husband. “You need to lighten up. Everything is fine. It’s better than fine. It’s wonderful.”

As if to disprove my words, Kevin’s pager went off just as August Grandin burst into the shop. “You have to come and see this! Rafe Masterson has struck again!”

Chapter 12

“That’s me.” Kevin kissed me quickly before he ran out of the shop. August and I were right behind him. I barely remembered to lock up.

Thick black clouds of smoke filled the sky. It was hard to tell exactly where it was coming from—but following all the emergency vehicles was a good bet.

Already a crowd had gathered at the pink clapboard house on one of the side streets away from Duck Road. Flamingos and plastic dwarfs were trampled as booted feet dragged heavy hoses to put out the fire.

A voice called out what I was thinking. “That’s Max Caudle’s house! Where’s Agnes?”

It was too much like the museum. The smell of smoke and the urgent sense of panic caused a choking sensation in my throat. How could this be happening again so soon? None of us were ready for another disaster.

“It’s the pirate curse,” Billy Rogers said, making the sign of the cross on his chest. “Rafe has come back again.”

“Don’t be ridiculous!” Mark Samson, who owned the Rib Shack, looked at him like he’d lost his mind. “That old thing doesn’t cause real-life fires.”

“Agnes may still be trapped inside,” another voice added to the sense of hysteria.

A dog started barking—high-pitched yapping—as Max and Agnes’s apricot-colored poodle ran through the yard toward the crowd. Chief Michaels, Tim Mabry and some of the other Duck police officers arrived and began redirecting traffic, giving the firefighters time and space to do their jobs.

Gramps was on pumper duty at the big fire truck. I ran to his side, surprised to see him there. “I thought you had an excursion.”

“My fare didn’t have the stomach for it.”

“Did anyone look inside yet to see if Agnes is in there?”

He glanced around, checking the pressure on the hoses. “I don’t know, Dae. Let me ask Cailey. She’s up near the house somewhere.”

Cailey had been in the house but hadn’t seen Agnes. She’d opened the door and let the dog out. “I don’t think she’s home,” she told Gramps. “The fire had to be started with an accelerant. It’s burning too hot and too fast.”

I saw Kevin suiting up alongside several other men from the community. Some of them I’d gone to high school with—some had been my elementary schoolteachers. Luke Helms, new to the area, was putting on the volunteer firefighter’s gear too. It didn’t take long before new residents were enlisted. Already dozens of volunteers had arrived and were in the Caudles’ front yard.

A window blew out of the top floor, sending shards of glass past the geraniums and the high-peaked black roof. Someone was up there in the opening. Smoke rolled out of the hole where the window had been.

“Help!” Agnes called out, her voice cracking from the smoke. “Help me, please!”

People all around me started crying and praying as we watched in horror while Agnes waved her arms and tried to get out of the dormer window. She was coughing fitfully as she finally managed to crawl outside on the roof. She swayed as she stood high above the ground. The crowd called out for her to stay put, help was coming.

There was only one truck with a ladder long enough to reach her. It was being used as the pumper. Without it, there wouldn’t be enough water to put out the fire. And we all knew there wasn’t enough time to disengage the big hoses and get the ladder up to her.

My eyes and throat were burning, but I saw two men in firefighter’s gear run toward the house with a long ladder. I didn’t know who they were or where they’d found the ladder. The crowd went silent as we watched them try to reach Agnes in time.

Seconds ticked by like hours. Agnes lost her balance and fell to her knees. The angle of the roof was too steep for her to regain her footing. She was toppling forward even as the two brave souls were coming for her.

I could hardly watch. Would they be there in time or would we face a double tragedy? My hands were clenched in tight fists—impotent rage running through me as all the rest of us could do was watch and pray.

The first man reached the roof in time to keep Agnes from falling. She grasped at him like a drowning swimmer. The second man was right behind him. Everyone caught their breath as Agnes’s savior lost his footing trying to help her. Luckily, the next man stopped them both from rolling off the roof.