“Your trust—your help in whatever he wants to do. Spirits can’t do things for themselves on this plane. They need human help.”
“I told you he wants his name cleared. But even Shayla agreed he could only appear to me since we’re related. It’s not like I go around seeing ghosts everywhere like she does. Helping him with that doesn’t seem so terrible, since he’s my great-great-something or other. I’ve been trying to do some research at the museum, but things keep getting in the way.”
“Just be careful. Don’t let him talk you into anything that doesn’t feel right.”
“Okay.” I wasn’t sure what else I could say. He sounded very ominous about the whole thing.
“He’s daft!” Rafe suddenly appeared between us. “The poor sot has no idea what he’s blabbering about. What matter of conveyance is this?”
I told Kevin that Rafe was with us. “He thinks you’re crazy.”
“I’m sure he does.” Kevin kept his eyes on the road. “Just have him tell us where we’re supposed to go— unless Matthew Wright is out in the middle of Duck Road.”
I realized he’d been at the stop sign for a few minutes. Rafe blustered and complained but finally gave me directions. “Follow the road to the right,” he instructed. I relayed the information to Kevin. “There’s a place on the sound—gad, how amazing that some things stay the same for so long, eh? I had a friend—One Finger Joe—who lived right on that spot. Good fishing there.”
“Which way now?” Kevin questioned as we were driving down the road. “There are a lot of places on the sound.”
“There is something sticking up out of the water—a quay of some sort. It’s beyond a grassy area with walkways of stone.” Rafe shook his head. “Beyond that, I cannot tell you.”
“The park!” I interpreted. “I think he’s talking about Duck Park.” There was a small cove at the edge of the park where we’d built a pier for walkers that jutted out into the Currituck Sound.
Kevin pulled the pickup into the parking lot, and we ran down the trails toward the water side of the park. Rafe stayed visibly ahead of us, floating above the path. I felt like I was in an episode of
A few Duck residents waved as we went by. A senior group was meeting there for their weekly walk. I smiled and waved back, thinking all the time that the park would become a crime scene if Matthew was found here. Cleanup from the storm would have to be postponed.
The cove was beside the stairs heading up to the long pier, which had such great views of the sound. A few mangled bicycles, a tire and a baby stroller languished in the water.
“I don’t see anything—at least not a dead body,” Kevin said after a moment. “I’ll check from the pier.”
“He’s down there, girl,” Rafe assured me. “Might be weighted down. That’s the way we did it. Look hard. You’ll see him.”
I did as he suggested, as best I could from the shore anyway. I was leery of jumping into the water unless I had to. There was no telling what all was beneath the surface, aside from a dead body.
“I don’t see anything,” Kevin said again, coming back down the stairs. “I think your ghost might have some bad intel.”
“He’s here, blast your hides! You’re looking all wrong.” Rafe paced up and down the shoreline.
“Or you’re all wrong,” I answered.
“Maybe he’s being held down underwater with something,” Kevin said. “There’s a lot of debris. I wouldn’t go in there without some kind of safety equipment. We should call the fire department.”
“What will we tell them?” I worried the problem—and my lip. “I can’t tell them a ghost told me to come here.”
“I don’t know why.” Kevin shrugged. “People here believe in ghosts. I don’t think they’d be that surprised.”
“Because I’m the mayor, and people know I have a gift—I find things. Shayla sees ghosts. Mrs. Anson in Southern Shores sees ghosts. Not me. I was really hoping Chief Michaels would be here and I could quietly creep away knowing Rafe was right.”
“One of you lily-livered cods jump in!” Rafe yelled, causing the bushes beside us to stir as though a strong wind had come up from the sound. “I’d do it myself, but it wouldn’t do no good.”
“I left my cell phone in the truck,” Kevin said. “I’ll call the fire department and tell them we saw something hazardous down here. We won’t use your story. Then we’ll know if your ghost is telling the truth.”
I looked back toward the water and saw something lying on top of the tire. It gleamed in the sunlight. I knew I’d seen it before. “Matthew’s car key.” I called Kevin back, but he was already too far gone. “I guess you must be right,” I said to the pirate. “That’s the key I found at the Blue Whale.”
“I told you so,” Rafe raved. “Now do you believe?”
But there was something else. I walked to the edge of the water, the toes of my shoes getting wet in the process. There was something stuck on the handle of the baby stroller.
I looked around for something to drag the stroller closer to me—even as I heard sirens coming from the direction of the fire station at the other end of Duck.
“What’s that you have there?” Rafe came closer, angling to see what I was doing.
I found a stick of some sort—maybe a broken broom handle—and used it to snag the stroller. It took a few tries to get it close enough so I could grab it from the water.
I knew I shouldn’t touch whatever was attached to the stroller handle, so I pushed with the stick, trying to see what it was. I reasoned that it could get lost when the fire department arrived. They would be looking for Matthew, not for debris that might have nothing to do with his death.
My chest felt cold as I brought it closer—it was a small gun. It didn’t look real, more like a toy. But I knew it was lethal, probably the .22-caliber the police were looking for. I wasn’t the sheriff’s granddaughter for nothing.
“What did you find?” Kevin came back, cell phone in hand.
“A gun. Don’t worry. I didn’t touch it. It looks like whoever killed Matthew threw his keys and a gun in after him.”
“I’m sure the chief will give you a hard time for messing with the crime scene anyway,” he said. “I guess your pirate was right.”
Chapter 30
The cove had to be cordoned off with nets to make sure all the possible evidence was contained. Two police boats kept interested watercraft away from the scene. The fire and police departments worked with sheriff’s deputies to pull the terrible, bloated body of Matthew Wright from the waters of the sound.
“Now tell me again how you knew the body was here,” Chief Michaels said, licking his small pencil in preparation of note taking. “What I’ve heard so far doesn’t make much sense.”
“You know Dae finds things,” Gramps added, putting his arm around me. “There’s no rhyme or reason for it. But we all know it happens. She saw the keys on the tire and recognized them as belonging to Mr. Wright.”
Chief Michaels nodded. “So you and Brickman were out for a stroll and saw the keys in the debris. Based on that, you used this broom handle to fish the gun out of the water. Does that about cover it?”
“The gun was stuck on the handle of the stroller,” I explained again. “I was standing here, thinking about Matthew, when I saw it.”
“Bag that stroller too, Scott,” Chief Michaels called out to Officer Randall, who was in the water. He was wearing protective gear, but the look on his face showed his distaste for the job.
The chief wouldn’t let the fire department volunteers do anything but stand around after they got there with the gear. He said they weren’t trained to do forensic evidence retrieval.
Sheriff Riley joined us, crouching down near the edge of the water for a minute before he turned back. “Don’t look like any suicide I’ve ever seen. I’m sure he was remorseful for killing Mayor Foxx, though.”
“I don’t think it was a suicide,” Chief Michaels said. “We got a call when we were back at the Blue Whale
