A Timely Vision

“And you think Kevin won’t do the same thing?” He looked skeptical. “Once a lawman, always a lawman. He can’t help it anymore than I could.”

“I think he can. I think there’s something in his past that made him give it up.”

“Since when do you get impressions from people besides finding what they’ve lost?”

Before I could answer that, a young man came into the shop with a box. He glanced around, then came to the counter. “I’m looking for the owner. I heard she’s interested in unusual items. I have something I’d like to sell her. I found it at the old Blue Whale Inn.”

Chapter 11

“I’m Dae O’Donnell. I own Missing Pieces.” I put out my hand to him as I felt the familiar sense of slow motion that meant this was an important find. “This is my grandfather, Horace O’Donnell. I’ll be happy to take a look at what you’ve got.”

That’s true and not true, really. I hate when things come in that I think might be stolen. There have been plenty of times I wished I could’ve kept things that I knew I shouldn’t keep. But I adhere to a code of ethics, and I never accept things that don’t belong to the person selling them. Unfortunately, this felt like one of those times. Too bad for this young man that the former sheriff was also there to view his discovery.

“I’m Austin Bray, Betsy Bray’s son.” He shook my hand too quickly for me to get an impression. “This was something some friends and I found a few years back. It used to be popular to hang out down at the Blue Whale because everyone said it was haunted. We were all hoping to see something, you know?”

I knew that part was true. In high school, my friends and I had done the same thing. It was interesting and creepy at the same time. I asked, “Did you ever see anything?”

“I don’t know. One time I thought I saw a man in the fog. He was kind of strange looking and his eyes glowed. My friends told me it was a dog, but it spooked me and I never went back again.”

“Exactly when was it you found this treasure, Austin?” Gramps asked in his old sheriff voice.

“Let’s see. I’m in my first year of college and that was my sophomore year in high school, so I guess about three years. I saw the thing about the dead guy they found at the inn and decided to bring this here. I don’t want to get in any trouble.”

Bad place to bring it. “Maybe you should’ve taken it to the police station.”

“I didn’t steal it, if that’s what you mean. I found it outside on the ground. I kept it in my closet all this time. You can ask my mom. She was threatening to throw it away now that I’ve moved most of my stuff out of the house. I started thinking it might be a bad thing for me to have.”

“That could be a piece of police evidence,” Gramps agreed. “I don’t know if we should even look at it.”

But I couldn’t resist. Before he could make me turn the whole thing over to Chief Michaels, I grabbed it from Austin. It was a beautifully hand-carved box, carefully detailed with seashells, gulls and an image of one of the area lighthouses. Though some sand was lodged in the crevices of the design, I could see the workmanship was exquisite.

“It’s gorgeous!” I studied it despite Gramps’s dark look. When I went to open it, I found that it was locked up tight, but a flash of brilliance made me open the cash register and retrieve the tiny key I’d found at the inn and forgotten to give Kevin.

The key turned stiffly in the lock. The lid was old and hard to lift, but when I did, music began to play. “It’s absolutely wonderful!”

Austin looked uncomfortable. “How did you get that key? I tried to open it a few times, but it wouldn’t budge. What song is that playing?”

“I found the key like you found the box,” I mentioned. “I don’t recognize the song either.”

“I do,” Gramps said. “ ‘Five foot two, eyes of blue, has anybody seen my gal?’ It was popular back in the day.”

I turned the box over, then looked at the inside again. It was lined with mother-of-pearl. A small inscription carved into it—“To Lizzie from Johnny. You’ll always be my girl.”

“What do you think?” Austin eagerly asked. “Worth at least something, right?”

“I’m sorry, son.” Gramps took the music box from me. “I’m afraid this is part of the police investigation into the murder at the inn. If that turns out not to be the case, you might get it back. I’ll leave word with your mother, if that’s the case.”

“I’m not going to jail or anything, am I?” He said as he began writing down his name, address and phone number on a piece of paper Gramps had handed him.

“I don’t think so,” Gramps said without much reassurance. “But next time, don’t go removing things off of private property without permission.”

Austin seemed a little skittish at this point. I smiled to reassure him. “If it turns out that you get to keep the box, I’d like to buy it from you.”