A Watery Death (A Missing Pieces Mystery Book 7) by Joyce Lavene, Jim Lavene Read Free Book Online

life as a shoemaker in Wilmington. The lamp had been displayed in his shop until he’d passed, with him telling the story to everyone who would listen.
    There was also a very fine pair of ruby and gold teardrop earrings that had been a gift from Lady Spencer while she was visiting her sister in the new world, circa 1810. It seemed that Lady Spencer had been quite well-to-do and known for dropping expensive gifts for trifles when she traveled. The earrings had been given to a housemaid who’d done a particularly good job of cleaning the lady’s boots.
    Besides those expensive items that would require certain customers with deep pockets, I had the usual souvenirs of the Outer Banks, a few used beach chairs, and some gently used toys. It was always good to keep some lower end stock that could prove useful to the right person.
    And it was hard for me to only pick up the expensive items for my shop. I was drawn to so many things that crossed my path. Sometimes they found good homes—sometimes they lived in my shop for years.
    The chime at the front door sounded. It was a young family in brightly-colored, matching cotton shorts and tank tops. They looked through everything I had and chose a few souvenirs. They asked me about the start for the parade the next day.
    “We always start at nine a.m.,” I told them. “We like to be done before it gets too hot.”
    It was the same answer I’d given many times. I was riding on a float made to look like a pirate ship this year for the first time. Everyone from town hall would be on it.
    I had a few more customers, none of the caliber that would buy ruby earrings or a rare antique, but they took almost all my souvenirs and the beach chair. It wouldn’t be long, and I’d have to visit local yard sales for more items to sell. I didn’t like being overstocked, but I didn’t like the store to look empty either.
    It was getting late, and I wondered what was happening on the ship. I thought again about Captain Lucky and his dreadful death. Did Chief Michaels know what had killed him yet? I didn’t want to call and ask. They didn’t need my curiosity, and I’d certainly hear all about it from Gramps.
    I looked at the aqua-colored dress I’d picked up for Trudy’s wedding that morning. I was her maid of honor. The dress was much prettier on the hanger than it was on me, at least in my estimation. I thought it made me look like a large, unusual flower with its thick netting and calf-length skirt.
    But was there ever a bridesmaid’s dress that the bridesmaids liked? I’d been in dozens of weddings, and the dresses were disasters that could never be worn again. It was better than the eggplant-colored (and shaped) gown I’d worn to Althea Hinson’s second wedding.
    Two of the Duck town council members came to see me. I made tea for them, and we talked about what had happened to Captain Lucky.
    Rick Treyburn was a retired investment banker who’d moved to Duck about ten years before. He was convinced that we were in for a rocky night at the town council meeting.
    “It was bad enough that people were going to complain about too many visitors coming in for the gambling ship. Now they’ve got shells for their cannon.”
    “He’s right,” Councilman Dab Efird mourned. “I hope Cody Baucum has the answers. He’s the most popular one.”
    “Everyone on the council voted for the gambling ship,” I reminded them.
    “Except you, Dae,” Rick said.
    “I was only following the recommendations of our staff and Sheriff Riley’s suggestions.”
    “Well it’s all come to pass just like Riley and Chief Michaels said it would.” Dab glared at Rick. “I felt pressured into agreeing with everyone else after the shakeup on the council.”
    “We’ll have to come up with something,” Rick agreed. “I hope you have some ideas, Dae. The new polls say that you’re popular too.”
    We have polls? “I don’t have any answers. I wish I did. We’re already committed to the gambling ship.