Free Dae's Christmas Past by Joyce Lavene, Jim Lavene Page B

didn’t take long for the concerned citizens of Duck to realize that I was at Missing Pieces. People stopped in to gossip and express their concerns about a man being killed in the middle of town. There were hundreds of rumors floating through Duck about what had happened the night before.
    I was sad that most of them hadn’t known Tom since he had lived in Corolla. They knew his work though, and were sorry that he’d been killed. Many wondered, as I had, who would take his place as director of the Wild Horse Conservancy.
    The natural answer seemed to be that Jake would be the one to do it. I hoped that would be the case, and that Chief Michaels and Sheriff Riley didn’t seriously consider him a suspect in Tom’s death. But just because I wanted it to happen didn’t make it so.
    August Grandin from the Duck General Store came by before he opened to see if I had any other information about the event. “I’m really concerned that Tom Watts is dead. It seems to me that it has to be hit and run, probably by someone from Duck who left him there. I hope Chief Michaels is checking cars to find the culprit.”
    I assured him that everything was being done that could be done. I hoped I was right about that. It wasn’t that I didn’t have complete faith in our police department. It was more that the odd nature of the death made me wonder if anyone could actually figure it out without some psychic help.
    Business was slow. More people came in more to discuss Tom’s death than to shop. At lunch, I treated Mary Catherine out at Wild Stallions. Most of the time, I just ate a sandwich at Missing Pieces. But things were slow, I had a guest, and I’d made a large sale. I decided we should go out. I left a sign on the shop door pointing anyone looking for me in the direction of the restaurant.
    “What a wonderful place to work,” Mary Catherine said as we stepped out on the sunny boardwalk. “I remember thinking that when I bought this shop.” She smiled as we passed Mrs. Roberts Spiritual Advisor.
    “Were you actually advising people with tea leaves and tarot back then?”
    “When you’re in my line of work, you do what you have to do survive. I’m a little more solid now—more than anything thanks to a generous bequest from my third late husband. I’m not so worried about the future anymore.”
    Shayla hailed us as we passed what had become her shop that she rented from Mary Catherine. “I need to talk to you, Dae. Where are you off to?”
    “Lunch,” I told her. “Why don’t you join us?”
    “I don’t want to take up your time.” She glanced significantly at Mary Catherine.
    “Don’t be silly.” Mary Catherine smiled. “I’d love to get to know you.”
    Shayla seemed fine after that. She accompanied us to Wild Stallions, wearing her usual chic black pants and sweater. It didn’t matter what she wore, she always had style and panache. Her black hair was drawn away from her face in braids that she’d looped around her head. She had brown eyes and finely drawn brows in her cocoa-colored face.
    Mary Catherine and Shayla were chatting about the business of being psychic as I told Cody Baucum that there would be three of us for lunch.
    “Make that four,” Kevin said from behind me.
    “Good party last night.” Cody shook his hand as he grabbed four menus. “I couldn’t believe someone died after it. Any update on that yet, Dae?”
    “I haven’t heard anything since early this morning,” I told him. “You know these things take time.”
    “I know.” Cody led us to a table that overlooked the Currituck Sound. “You know, I’m thinking about throwing my hat in the ring for one of those two council seats. You all are deciding on that tomorrow night, right?”
    “Yes. We’ll be filling the seats, at least temporarily,” I told him. “There won’t be an election for two years. Whoever we choose to fill those seats will be there until then.”
    Cody summoned a waitress. “I think I’d be good as a