A Timely Vision

“A bad day? Whoever did this killed Miss Elizabeth and left her buried out there in the dunes. That’s more than a bad day.” I couldn’t believe she’d even consider making excuses for this nameless person.

“Sor-ry.” She scooted closer to Kevin, if that was possible. “You were there. What do you think?”

“I think the ME will be able to answer all our questions in a few days. Until then, we’re just guessing.” His voice was level and calming.

I turned my head away from them and instead looked at the lighted businesses on Duck Road. The neon sign from the Rib Shack reflected on something in the street. That familiar slow-motion feeling came over me as I bent down to pick it up. It was no bigger than a quarter and had letters embossed on it. I couldn’t read what it said, so I put it in my pocket for later.

The house Gramps and I shared was the first one out of the business district. The cheerful yellow clapboard and green accents were shadowy, even with the yard lights on, but it was good to be home. I rounded the mailbox with the duck sitting on top and the sign that said “Duck’s Landing.” I sort of hoped Shayla and Kevin would head back to the Curbside right away. No such luck.

“Nice place,” Kevin said, catching up with me. “I wish the Blue Whale was in this kind of shape.”

“The Blue Whale is a lot bigger. Once you get it fixed up, I’m sure it’ll be worth a lot more than our house.”

“Not that Dae’s would ever be for sale,” Shayla added. “She’s home safe, Kevin. Let’s head back before the bar gets too crowded.”

But we’d already reached the path between the bushes that led to the front door. Gramps must’ve been watching because he opened it as soon as he saw us. “There you are! I’ve been worried about you, Dae. That’s why they make cell phones, you know. You could give an old man a call.”

I apologized for making him worry. “I have Kevin Brickman and Shayla with me, Gramps.”

“Of course!” He shook hands with Kevin. “How are you, Mr. Brickman? How did those pictures turn out?”

“Just fine, thanks. I think I got a good feel for the land looking at it from out there.”

I’d forgotten our conversation at Missing Pieces. Hopefully, Gramps would too and not try to do any matchmaking. Although Shayla wasn’t holding Kevin’s arm anymore, she was practically standing on his shadow. She was definitely doing some matchmaking of her own.

“I just finished making dinner,” Gramps said. “You’ll stay, won’t you? There’s plenty. Dae eats like a bird, and I can only pack away so much now that I’m older. When I was younger, I could eat a whole swordfish by myself! But those days are past me now.”

I could see the uncomfortable, disappointed look on Shayla’s face as Kevin took Gramps up on his offer and the two of them went into the kitchen. “What’s wrong with men anyway?” she whispered. “Why don’t they ever know when to leave a thing alone?”

“I can’t believe you think Kevin is that interesting.”

She smiled, catlike. “I can’t believe you don’t.”

During our dinner of fried rice, cornbread and garden tomatoes, the conversation turned to Miss Elizabeth’s death, as had all conversations over the last few days. We sat around the scrubbed wood table and tried to imagine what had happened.

“I think she was robbed,” Gramps said. “She was an old busybody, that’s for sure. And she loved to go out walking. How many times did someone have to end up taking her home? But she always had her purse with her. She wouldn’t leave without it. No one can find it now.”

“It could’ve gotten lost in the sand,” Shayla added, playing with her food. No doubt wishing she was at a dark table at the Curbside with Kevin. “There was a storm, you know. Maybe it was swept out to sea.”

“Or you could be right.” Kevin glanced at Gramps. “She could’ve been robbed. Maybe she put up a fight and got hurt. It wouldn’t take much to kill a woman that age.”

“We have a few break-ins every now and again. We even had a robbery last year at the convenience store. But I have a hard time with the idea that someone murdered Miss Elizabeth.” I said my piece, then sat back from the table. Food didn’t taste so good when you were talking about murder.

“Maybe you could touch something she was wearing and tell us all what happened,” Shayla suggested.

I stared at her—if only looks could kill—and finally said, “No.”

“Could you do that?” Kevin asked.

“I can’t form images from things,” I explained, softening my tone a little. “I have to touch the person.”

“Maybe you could touch Miss Elizabeth,” Shayla continued. “Maybe you could pick up a vibe that way.”

“I’ve already touched her. I didn’t see anything.” I felt a little uncomfortable defending myself, but I went on. “I’ve thought about this again and again since finding Miss Elizabeth. But I get nothing. No image. Nothing.”