he’d been in and out of jail a lot. He had a life you could only dream of.”
“Okay. Not a hard life financially, but maybe a hard life in other ways. Money isn’t everything. You taught me that.”
“Dae, I know you love him—or at least you think you do right now. He’s your father and you’ve always felt cheated because you didn’t know him. But he’s not a good person. He’ll only leave you to ruin like he did your mother.”
“You didn’t give him a chance to do anything else,” I accused.
He nodded. “Guilty as charged. I protect the people I love, and I won’t apologize for it.”
“I don’t think I need that kind of protection anymore, Gramps. I can make my own decisions about people.”
“How does Kevin feel about him? I’m assuming he knows the truth. Did you tell Danny yet that he’s your father?”
I got up from the chair and calmly put my cup in the sink. “Kevin feels the same way you do—all based on Danny’s past record. And no, I haven’t told Danny yet that he’s my father. I thought I should get to know him first before I spring it on him.”
“At least you’re trying to use the brains God gave you. I’m glad about that.”
“But you know I’ll have to tell him sometime. I don’t think you and Kevin give him credit for not being the same person he was thirty years ago. You’re both wrong about him, and I’ll prove it to you.”
“Please don’t do anything foolish, honey. You don’t have to prove anything. Don’t get involved in his life. You’ve made a wonderful home for yourself. People like and respect you. Don’t throw all that away on someone who doesn’t deserve it.”
There was nothing more to say here either. For Gramps, as with Kevin, actions would speak louder than words. And yes, I hadn’t come completely clean about my father. I’d left out the part about the makeup case. I had no doubt Kevin would enlighten Gramps, but he wasn’t going to hear it from me.
Maybe by that time, Gramps would begin to see that Danny was just someone struggling through life. He wasn’t a bad person—he had issues that I felt sure time and love would solve.
“I love you, Dae,” Gramps said as he stood up and hugged me. “I hope you know that. We haven’t been so close lately. I miss that. Please don’t shut me out of your life.”
I hugged him back. He was wrong about Danny, but I still loved him too. “I’m sorry it’s been so weird lately. Strange things have been happening.”
“Such as?”
“Did you know the Bellamys are related to Rafe Masterson?”
“The pirate?”
“You got it.”
“How did you find out?”
I laughed, glad that I’d told him most of the truth and cleared the air between us even though doing so had been hard. “I think that’s going to take another cup of coffee.”
Chapter 35
Gramps and I talked until midnight about the pirate ghost and the things he’d told me about the past. It was as easy as ever talking to Gramps—about that subject. I tried to get Rafe to appear and do some little trick to show he was there, but no such luck.
We didn’t touch on my father again. That was good. I realized that I didn’t want to exclude Gramps from my life—I just wanted to include Danny too. My optimistic heart believed that could happen.
It was raining the next morning—a definite hindrance to getting Duck back in order. The maintenance people would have to sit around and wait for the weather to clear. But every Banker knows to expect bad weather this time of year.
I put on my rain poncho and boots and headed for the Duck Historical Museum early, when I’d be most likely to catch our town historians there. They met for tea and cookies several times a week to debate Duck history. I needed to pick their brains if I was going to have a chance of finding the magistrate’s diary.
I wondered how I’d managed to escape Rafe’s company this morning. I kept expecting him to pop up. I knew he was still here somewhere. Who knew that pirates pouted?
I couldn’t help glancing next door at the Blue Whale as I reached the museum. Kevin’s pickup was gone, but I saw Danny outside working on replacing glass in the lower-floor windows. He didn’t see me, so I got to watch him for a while. I thought about his age—he had to be in his fifties. It had to be hard for him to be thrown out on the streets. At least Kevin had let him stay. I was happy about that. I wasn’t looking forward to talking to Kevin again just yet. In some ways, I was glad he wasn’t home.
I could hear our local historians arguing inside the museum before I even opened the door. Mrs. Euly Stanley was making a point as she poured herself another cup of tea. Mark Samson was eating a blueberry muffin, and Andy Martin was sitting back in his chair shaking his head.
“I’m telling you the
“Good morning, Dae,” Mrs. Stanley said. “We have plenty of goodies here. Please help yourself.”
“I guess I’m the only one who knows what you’re after.” Mark grinned and got up for another muffin.
“Sit down, Mayor,” Andy said. “Tell us about your mystery.”
I took a cup of tea and a muffin, then sat down with the group. “I thought Mark might have told you already. I’m looking for information about the magistrate who condemned Rafe Masterson to death.”
Mrs. Stanley sat down beside me and sipped her tea. “You know, I remember hearing about that.”
“From me,” Mark said. “I told you all about the documents I’d found. The magistrate’s name was William Astor. Some people have called him the hanging judge—but he was a lot worse than that. Dae is helping me prove my theory that Masterson was hanged for something besides piracy.”
I didn’t remember saying that I was helping him—but whatever worked.
“That’s crazy,” Andy said. “Everybody wants to rewrite history. We all know Rafe Masterson was one of the worst pirates in the area. He cursed Duck. How much worse can you get than that?”
“Technically, he might’ve cursed the area, but Duck wasn’t officially here yet,” Mark reminded him. “The only thing worse than rewriting history is believing mythology is history.”
Before this got into a daylong argument, I stepped in to smooth the waters. “What I’m really looking for is one of William Astor’s descendants.”
“What for, dear?” Mrs. Stanley asked.
“I’d like to find his diary.” I nodded at Mark, who gave me a secret smile. “I’ve heard that all of his deeds are faithfully recorded in that diary. I’m sure there would be some interesting historical notes, if we could find it.”
Mrs. Stanley sipped her tea and carefully dabbed a napkin on her lips. “I don’t know exactly who that would be, but we could certainly trace down the Astor lineage. Maybe that would give you some idea. Though it’s likely whoever it is doesn’t live here anymore. You know young people tend to leave.”
“I know.” It was something everyone talked about. Mad Dog Wilson was using it as part of his campaign for mayor. He said we needed manufacturing jobs to keep young people in Duck after they graduated from high school. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to see young people stay in Duck—I just didn’t know where we’d put manufacturing companies.
“But we could check anyway,” Andy said. “It would be fun. And you never know, one of the old magistrate’s descendants could be here. It happens. Look at us. All of us were born here.”
“I agree,” Mrs. Stanley said. “I’ll start calling members of the historical society today. Someone in the group is bound to know something—even if it’s that the magistrate’s descendants aren’t here anymore.”
“This is exciting!” Mark got to his feet. “This information could really help with my Rafe Masterson project too. At least I’d know if he was hanged for legitimate crimes. Once I get all the information together, I plan to
