A Timely Vision

Silas was shot and killed by a sheriff’s deputy after failing to lay down his gun. Deputy Ronald Michaels was on desk duty for two weeks during an investigation. It was found that he had performed his duty adequately, and he was returned to his job without further issue. On August 19, 1978, he was given a commendation for his handling of the event.

The chief had shot and killed Silas Butler! No one had ever mentioned that part of the folklore. It never failed that in telling these tales, long-time Duck residents left out some facts and embellished others all in the name of making a better story.

I’d been only about five at the time Butler was killed, so naturally I couldn’t recall anything about the death. But I had to wonder why Miss Elizabeth and Miss Mildred didn’t hate the chief for his role in their brother’s death. Finding that Post-it had led to more questions I couldn’t answer.

I trusted Chief Michaels. But what did this Post-it mean? Was the public record wrong? Had Chief Michaels not actually killed Silas Butler all those years ago? Was it possible Bad Butler was still alive? And if so, why hadn’t the chief said something about it? He wouldn’t keep something like this to himself, would he? There had to be some mistake. Or I was misinterpreting what I’d read. One phone call could’ve cleared everything up. I didn’t make that call.

I thought about it but argued that I would see the chief at the ribbon cutting for the new Mexican restaurant. I could ask him then. It couldn’t be dead Silas Butler in Kitty Hawk at that nursing home anyway. It could wait.

But the morning dragged. I went and got coffee and talked to Phil for a while before I opened Missing Pieces. Of course it would be a slow day on the boardwalk. A lot of customers would’ve taken my mind off my worries. I watched the teapot clock in my shop crawl along until ten fifteen. I couldn’t stand it anymore. I put out the “Closed” sign and locked the door.

Ribbon cuttings in Duck bring out the usual suspects. There’s Barney from the jewelry store and Mark Samson from the Rib Shack. Both of them are members of the Duck Chamber of Commerce. Carter Hatley from Game World was president. He brought the big wooden scissors to cut the bright red ribbon. The ribbon is always provided by Betty’s Boutique and Floral. Betty attends, enjoying the compliments on her elaborate ribbon design.

Once in a while, one of the other town council members comes by to show support. Usually, this happens when there’s food involved. But today, even though there was food, it was only me representing the town. No sign of the chief. I held the scissors and stood next to the red ribbon with everyone else behind me. The chamber of commerce secretary took a few pictures for the town’s website and archives.

I don’t think I’ve ever seen a newspaper or TV reporter at one of these events. But that’s okay. It’s a nice welcome to a new business. The owners all smile and shake my hand. I give them a small, gold plastic key that says “Duck” on it. It’s exciting for everyone.

I saw Luke Helms in the sparse crowd right before the ribbon cutting. He came up to me after it was over and said, “I thought I might find you here. Do you have a minute to talk?”

“Of course. Do you want to go back to town hall?”

“No. This is fine. It’s about Mrs. Mason.”

I felt a terrible weight in my chest even as the sun finally broke through the heavy fog. It looked as if the day would clear up, probably be warm and sunny.

We walked over to the side of the road near a large purple horse decorated with sparkly stars. I wished I could jump up on it and ride to the hospital to rescue Miss Mildred. I knew it wouldn’t happen, even if it were a real horse, but the urge to do something was overpowering.

“I’m afraid it’s not going well for her. Yesterday, the judge found her incompetent to stand trial. I don’t really know why. She’s as sharp as a tack, except for this ghost thing. It’s not something a judge wants to hear when he thinks you’ve killed your sister. It sounds like she invented a fantasy to block out what she did.”

I knitted my fingers together, not sure what to say. “I know you did what you could for her. I think she really believes the purse came from her sister. Someone is setting her up. They planted the purse and made it seem like it was Miss Elizabeth bringing it to her. Then they planted the shovel that killed her sister. It’s a terrible thing.”