A Touch of Gold

I turned back to Cailey and Brad. “You’re saying someone purposely shot a cannonball into the museum and blew it up?”

Brad kind of glanced at Cailey. “All we can really say at this point, Mayor, is that it appears that a cannonball was fired at the museum, which caused the propane tank to explode. This is only our preliminary finding. We don’t know if there was intent to do harm as yet. Maybe it was an accident.”

“If it turns out someone did it, one way or another, that makes Max’s death a homicide,” Gramps said.

“It would,” Cailey agreed, pushing back her graying brown hair.

“Are there any working cannons around here?” Kevin asked. “It seems to me that most of these old weapons I’ve seen are rusted and unusable.”

“I don’t know,” Cailey answered. “I’ve never even considered it. Max would know—”

There was no way any of us could finish that statement. Max would know, no doubt. The only expert around here was dead.

“What now?” I had to clench my teeth to keep them from chattering as I asked the question. I was freezing.

“We investigate,” Cailey said. “Chief Michaels looks for the cannon or maybe tracks of some kind that show a cannon could’ve been there. When we have more answers, we’ll let you know. My guys have been out here all night, Dae, and not because I told them they had to be here. We’re doing the best we can with the situation.”

“I know you are.” I put my hand on her sooty shoulder, glad the gloves prevented me from getting impressions from her jacket. “You know people are going to want answers right away. The idea of someone blowing up the museum is going to be hard to swallow.”

As if to punctuate my words, two TV crews rushed up to the curb and began heckling the firefighters who wouldn’t let them on the crime scene. Duck police officers probably should have been on the job, but something this big was going to be hard for our handful of officers to cope with, even if we called in the part-time officers.

“I know.” She shook her head and had to adjust her helmet again. “I’m sorry we can’t do more. We all loved Max.”

“No good jumping to bad conclusions anyway,” Gramps added. “We’ll have to let the investigation run its course.”

“We’ll do our best, Mayor O’Donnell,” Brad assured me. “I know this isn’t easy for anyone.”

I don’t know why exactly, but I lost it then. Maybe it was these hardworking firefighters that had been out there working all night. I knew Cailey was as close to Max, or closer, than I was. I knew all of these people loved Max. No one wanted to think his death and the destruction of the museum could be anything but a terrible accident.

I took my hand from Kevin’s arm. He started to walk with me when I moved, but I shook my head. I couldn’t stop the tears from streaming down my face. I left abruptly and went toward where the side of the museum had been. I stripped off the dirty gloves to wipe the tears away.

I needed a few minutes alone. If that looked crazy or weak, so be it. Max was dead. He had always been there for the town and for me. The horrific truth of it settled on me like a cloud of the greasy black soot from the fire.

I kicked something and looked at it. It was the trash can I’d helped Agnes with yesterday. Somehow it was still in one piece. All of its contents were on the ground, but that appeared to be the result of someone accidentally knocking it over. It didn’t look like the fallout from a cannonball ripping into a propane tank and blowing up the museum.

Even through my tears that strange twist hit me as amazing. It was like that time a bad hurricane blew through Duck, demolishing one house while leaving the one right next door completely untouched.

“Are you okay?” Kevin came up behind me anyway. “I could take you home if your grandfather wants to stay.”

“I’m fine, except that Max is dead. The whole museum is gone. But this stupid trash can is still here. Someone could take it home and use it. What a world, huh?”

I could tell by the look on his face that he wasn’t really getting what I was saying. That was okay. It actually made me feel a little better saying it.

I reached down without thinking and picked up the coffee card I’d put into the trash yesterday. I don’t know what possessed me to touch it after my recent experiences.

It was dripping wet, probably soaked by the high-power fire hoses. For a second, I didn’t feel anything from it. I thought maybe my new ability had left me, gone as fast as it had come, like a storm at sea.

Then suddenly it all rushed in, filling my mind with information that choked me. I dropped to the wet ground as I heard Kevin call my name.

Chapter 4

It was as though I was standing at the end of a long tunnel. I was engulfed by the vision from the card. I could still hear Kevin calling me but I couldn’t answer.

I saw Max arguing with the man who had the coffee card in his pocket. The man slammed the door to the museum when he went outside. He glanced at the coffee card as he took it out. All of the numbers were punched on it. He shrugged and hurled it toward the trash can before he got in his car and drove away.

I couldn’t really tell anything about what was said. It was enough to know that he and Max were both extremely angry. That didn’t surprise me once I realized that Max was speaking to Sam Meacham from the Corolla Historic Museum.

The intense feeling from the argument between the two men dissipated as rapidly as it had come to me. I gasped for breath and found Kevin with both arms around me, holding me up.

“Someone call 911,” I heard him yell. “Get an ambulance over here!”

“No!” I put my hands on his chest, feeling the familiar energy from his jacket. “I’m okay. Really.”

“The hell you are,” he growled.

“It’s not what you think.”

His eyes stared into mine. “Then what is it? What’s going on, Dae?”

I showed him the soggy coffee card. “Something’s happened. I feel—some kind of energy from things since the explosion. Everything I touch: my clothes, your jacket, everything. I don’t know what to do about it.”

There! I’d said it out loud. It was a relief.

Two firemen I recognized as paramedics ran over to us, emergency medical bags in hand. They both looked bone weary, the kind of exhaustion where your eyes are dull and your skin looks gray. “What’s wrong? You need help?”

“No. I guess not.” Kevin shrugged. “It’s fine. Sorry. Thanks.”

Surprised, I moved away from him as the paramedics gave us an annoying glare before returning to their grunt work sifting through the debris that had been the museum. “You believe me?”

“Of course.” His tone was matter-of-fact. “Your abilities probably changed when you underwent the shock from the explosion. I’ve seen it before.”

Of course, my inner critic mocked him, it’s rather commonplace . “Great! Maybe you can tell me what to do about it.” I was being sarcastic. How would he possibly know what to do?

He glanced around. “Not here. I know your abilities aren’t a secret, but maybe now isn’t the right time to talk about them with the media.”

I followed his gaze and noticed the TV crews fanning out around the debris field, trying to find someone to pounce on for information.

I wasn’t ready to be recognized and go through an interrogation about what happened. Maybe it was a nonmayorlike attitude, but I didn’t want to blurt out something that I’d regret later. I needed time to decide what my statement was going to be.

“Missing Pieces.” I put the coffee card into my pocket with the gold coin. “Let’s go there. I don’t want to tell