A Touch of Gold

at least a little. No telling how much time she really spent up here keeping everything straight for us. If there was a real heart to Duck, it was Nancy.

A new Duck museum. What would that be like without Max? Who would take his place as curator? No one sprang to mind. I knew it had to happen. I knew there would be someone we would all come to accept as our new historian, but it was hard to imagine who right now.

I finished my walk to Missing Pieces, slamming the door closed behind me. I was sad and still angry about Max’s death. Here I was trying to find out who had done these terrible things and Brad accused me of being the perpetrator. I had to pace back and forth through the shop several times before I started to calm down.

“Dae?” Trudy came up on me with a big smile on her face. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t think I can talk about it yet.” I stared at her, then started pacing again. “That arson investigator doesn’t have any idea what’s going on. He accused me—me—of having something to do with it. Just because I was at the museum and the house fire and in Corolla before Sam Meacham died. Can you believe it?”

“That’s crazy!” She sat down on the burgundy sofa. “But I sold some stuff this morning. That’s good news, right?”

“That’s very good news. Thanks, Trudy.” I sat beside her. “Imagine him thinking I could kill someone! Like I can even run a stop sign without worrying that I’ll get a ticket and Gramps will never let me forget it. And now there’s Kevin—another person who used to be in law enforcement. What’s wrong with me? How can anyone think I could kill someone?”

She shrugged. “Maybe you should ask Shayla. She could do a tarot reading and tell you all about it. Come on. You two have to make up sometime, and you were the one who stole her boyfriend.”

I wanted to explain that Kevin and Shayla weren’t together anymore before I started seeing him, but I decided to let it go. In the wake of everything that had happened, it seemed paltry. I had to call Gramps and Kevin and let them know about Brad’s accusation.

Kevin’s cell phone went to voice mail, and there was no answer at the Blue Whale. I tried to call Gramps, then remembered he was out with his friends. His phone went to voice mail too.

“Calm down,” Trudy advised. “Things can’t be that bad.”

“I suppose that depends on your definition of bad.”

“Well you know you didn’t kill anyone or set anything on fire, right? They can’t touch you, Dae. All that guy has are suspicions. So he saw you at the fire. So what? Half the town was there, and at the museum right after it exploded.”

“You’re right.” Of course she was right. Brad had to be rattling my cage—trying to find out if I knew anything he didn’t know. It was classic investigative technique.

Shayla opened the shop door but wouldn’t come inside. “Trudy, can you come out here, please?”

Trudy rolled her eyes. “No. I won’t come out there. You’re not a vampire—you can walk in without permission. Get in here! We need you.”

“I’d rather not. Dae and I are no longer friends. And if I were a vampire, you would’ve just invited me inside so I could kill you.”

“Don’t be silly. Dae would’ve had to ask you to come in for it to work if you were a vampire.” Trudy shook her head as if everyone should know these vampire facts. “You two have to hash this out. One of you has to give in and say you’re sorry.” She took turns glaring at both of us.

“I’m not doing that,” Shayla said. “Dae stole my boyfriend. She has to apologize.”

Trudy nudged me with her elbow. “Well?”

“I’m not apologizing! Shayla and Kevin had broken up before I started dating him. I didn’t steal anything.”

“Do you disagree with that?” Trudy asked.

Shayla leaned against the door frame. “Maybe. But she could’ve told me the truth instead of making me guess.”

“Okay.” Trudy held out her hands. “Why don’t you both apologize? Dae, you say you’re sorry for how this business with Kevin was handled. Shayla, you say you’re sorry for dragging this out when you knew you and Kevin were over anyway.”

I glanced at Shayla. Trudy was right. This had gone on too long. “Sorry.”

“I guess I’m sorry too.”

“Good! Now get in here and let’s have a hug,” Trudy said.

Shayla and I moved toward each other reluctantly but ended up hugging and talking.

“I came by to tell Trudy to warn you that I saw something strange in a tarot I did today.” Shayla smiled. “I guess I can tell you personally.”

“Strange how?” I closed the door to the shop as we all walked back and sat down on the sofa.

“It was a man of authority crossing you. He has power given to him by the establishment. He’ll cause you trouble, Dae. You have to watch out for him.”

“Sounds like Brad Spitzer.” I explained to her about my conversation with him.

“I saw Kevin in there too,” Shayla continued. “He’ll help you get through this. There was another man—an older man who has great power and wealth. He has something you need. It could be information or something practical. I couldn’t tell for sure. Death surrounds him. Be careful of your dealings with him.”

Shayla was phenomenal. She’d described my problem with Brad and had seen part of my vision of the older man who’d given Max the gold. I broke down and told Shayla and Trudy about my new abilities and the visions I’d had.

“Dae, that’s powerful!” Shayla exclaimed. “Your abilities are growing. They might rival my own one day. That must be why your chakra looked so weird—that and love will do it every time.”

I smiled. “Thanks. Kevin was afraid I couldn’t control the visions, but I’m learning to handle them just fine. The terrible part is not understanding what I see. The Segway thing with Sam and the old man with the gold—I don’t know what they mean.”

“You’ll figure it out,” Trudy said. “Something will happen and things will click into place. Always do. You’ll see.”

I made some coffee, and we sat around talking. We didn’t bring up the mess with Kevin and Shayla again. I hoped that was water under the bridge now. Shayla went through men pretty fast. It probably wouldn’t be long before she found someone else.

It was getting close to three P.M., and only a handful of potential customers were walking up and down the boardwalk. Most of them were locals—which was good for Shayla and Trudy, who had their weekly regulars. Missing Pieces mostly depended on the tourist crowd. Business picked up a little around the holidays, but winter was a long, slow time for me.

I straightened up the shop again after Trudy and Shayla left. I picked up a few items to explore their origins. I was getting better at controlling this new ability, more able to learn from it.

I found that some of the items I thought were treasures were fakes. I hated that, but it was bound to happen once in a while. Some other pieces I thought were mostly junk turned out to be great stuff—I raised their prices.

Feeling confident of what I could do, I picked up my carved African hand mirror that I loved so much. I always kept it behind the counter so customers would know it wasn’t for sale. I had a basic idea of where it had come from—the old man at the market in Charleston had told me it once belonged to an African princess. But what I saw today wasn’t what I’d expected.

Beyond pain. Beyond fear. Longing for death that wouldn’t come. No way out. Trapped and caged.

I looked at my arms and legs—they were covered with open sores, broken and swollen. The pain of hunger and thirst were not as bad as knowing that death was the only escape. I looked in the mirror and saw the ravaged face of a black slave gazing back at me. She would never make the trip to the market alive.

An African princess, the man in Charleston had told me. Had he known she was a dying slave?

I was on the floor, vomiting and crying, my whole body shaking violently. When I could get up, I sat behind the counter for a long time, glad that no one had come into the store. It was hard to get back into myself without the terrible shadow of the woman in the mirror gnawing at my soul.