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Authors: Joyce Lavene

BOOK: A Spirited Gift
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Despite close acquaintance with past storms, most people grumbled and complained that they weren't happy about being trapped here, even though they would have been here for the conference anyway. People seemed to be that way about most things.
I got Nancy, Barbara and Althea together. We ushered everyone back into the hotel, promising food and drinks to ease the pain.
Emergency calls for workers were going out across the island. Kevin had been called—along with Gramps—to join the volunteer firefighters who would act as the cleanup crew for Duck. Marissa, still trying to dry her long blond hair, promised to look after the guests and the Blue Whale while he was gone. I promised to help her.
While Marissa tried to get everyone settled down, I went to the ballroom to lock the door so none of the children could wander in and get cut on the broken glass from the shattered window.
The room was a wreck—but the emergency lighting was working. Once the window had broken, torrents of rain had flooded the beautiful wood floor. All kinds of debris had followed, including some confused seagulls that were flapping their wet wings and trying to fly.
I grabbed some towels from the kitchen and managed to get the birds back outside before they caused too much damage. It was still going to be a mess to clean up. I didn't want to think what that big window would cost to replace.
As I was sloshing through the water to reach the door (in my good shoes—there was glass on the floor, so I couldn't go barefoot), something caught my attention. It glittered in the water with the sand and tree limbs, like pirate treasure. I stooped down—it was a diamond and ruby ring. Fear flooded through me.
She'd meant to have the ring sized—it had always been too big. When the rain broke into the ballroom, it had slipped from her finger. She walked through the water looking for it, finally finding it. She dropped it when she saw the gun pointed at her.
“Dae? Are you all right?” Nancy shook me and broke the emotional tie that bound me to the ring. “What are you doing in here? You could get hurt on all this glass.”
I took a deep breath and released the feelings from the ring. Kevin had taught me that. After all the years I'd had a gift of finding things, I didn't think there was anything else to learn. I was wrong.
“I know,” I answered her, putting the ring on my thumb—it was still too big even for that digit. “I was trying to close off the room so no one would get hurt. But there were birds in here. I didn't want Kevin to have to clean that up too.”
“Well, you've done your good deed for the day.” She smiled and hugged me. “Let's get out of here. Thank goodness the kitchen is still in one piece and there are leftovers that don't need to be cooked. Something about living through storms makes everyone hungry. I'm thinking a buffet in the lobby. What do you think?”
It was hard for me to think about anything after touching the ring. It seemed to me like I should look for its owner—she was in trouble.
But there was so much to do to take care of almost a hundred people—I couldn't just abandon Nancy, Marissa and the other two women I'd asked to be here.
While I put out cups and plates, and located forks and knives for the buffet, I hoped that what I'd felt wasn't as bad as it had seemed.
Sometimes my gift exaggerated things—made the emotions or events tied to them seem bigger or more important than they were. Sometimes the things I saw were unclear. They made sense only later, after I'd found out what had really happened. But deciphering my visions that way was confusing.
The fear I'd felt from the ring still made me shiver. The images chased around in my head as I smiled and asked people if they wanted a wheat or white roll. I believed someone might need help—but where or how, or even when, was hard to say.
That thought made me begin watching the faces as they went by the serving table heaping food on plates and filling cups with tea or coffee. Was anyone missing?
There were too many people. I tried to get a head count, but everyone was wandering around, sitting in spots on the stairs and in the lobby eating their food. How could I find out if anyone was missing without drawing too much attention to the fact?
I finally came up with an idea and got some paper and a clipboard from behind the check-in desk. I asked everyone to write down their names and home contact numbers.
“We might need to contact you later for insurance purposes,” I explained in what I hoped was a rational way. I didn't want to cause a panic.
Apparently my request made sense—or people just didn't want to argue about it. They scribbled their names and numbers on the paper. I kept looking around, trying to see if I could spot anyone who should've been there and wasn't.
“What's up?” Marissa asked when I got to her.
I didn't tell her about the ring I'd found in the ballroom. She was new to Duck—it would require too much explanation. “I'm worried someone might have wandered off. Just trying to keep up with everyone.”
“Great! And we just got them calmed down with food.” She sighed. “Well, let me give you a hand. It will look more natural if we both do it.”
I had about fifty people on my list. Marissa was getting the names of the people in the lobby. I walked across the foyer toward the bar and looked back.
A shaft of moonlight came through the undamaged picture window and fell across the carpeted floor in the lobby, creating a haze of dust motes spinning through the air. The motes seemed to move together—as though creating an image.
I couldn't make out what it was, and an instant later it was gone. I shook my head to clear it and went on to the bar. Maybe the storm had done something to me. I kept thinking that someone was watching me—even in the deserted ballroom. Maybe all those storm ions were fooling around with my normal energy.
I talked with the fifteen people eating in the bar area, got their names and numbers. Everyone asked when they could leave. I didn't have an answer for them.
One of the younger men—I recognized him but couldn't recall his name—was insistent about it. He put his information on the paper and demanded to know when he could leave. I gave him my stock answer. He got more upset than the rest of the guests.
“It's stupid to keep us here,” he said. “We can find our own ways home. We're not prisoners.”
I started to answer and dropped the clipboard. He handed it back to me when he caught it. Our hands held for a moment. I felt that same strange sensation I experienced whenever I looked into someone's mind to help them find something they'd lost.
And I realized this man and I had something in common—we'd lost the same person—Sandi Foxx.
Chapter 5
“Someone's missing from the group,” I told him, hoping the blunt admission would make him forthcoming with his information.
He was probably in his twenties, with a dark, full head of hair and a ruddy complexion. His brown eyes shifted away from mine, and his hands moved restlessly in and out of his pockets. “I don't know what you mean. Who's missing?”
“I think you know.” I studied his face. “You came here with Sandi Foxx, didn't you? Where is she?”
“I don't know. We got separated when they moved everybody in here.”
“You work with her?”
“Yeah. I'm her personal assistant.”
I didn't have to be psychic to hear some guilt in his voice and the emphasis on “personal.” He was probably
too
personal with Sandi—maybe the man she was talking about breaking up with.
“Is this her ring?” I asked him, showing him the ruby.
“Yes. Where did you find it?”
“Probably where she lost it.” I didn't know what else to say to him. Obviously he was hiding something. Was it more than the two of them sneaking away together for this conference?
She was lost, at least in his mind. My gift for finding missing things worked only when the lost item was in the forefront of the “seeker's” thoughts. I had to have physical contact with that person to get an image from them.
I looked at his name on the list. “Matthew Wright. You came with Sandi but now you can't find her. Is that right?”
“That's right. I thought she'd be in here with the rest of us, but I haven't seen her. I tried to go back in the ballroom, but the doors were locked. I don't know where she is.”
“She's not in the ballroom. All I found there was her ring.” I looked up the stairs—no elevator without electricity. The generator produced only enough power for the lights and refrigeration. I realized we might have to search the inn for Sandi.
I wasn't as concerned with upsetting people now that it appeared my instincts about someone being in trouble were right. I didn't know if I should trust Matthew—but I wasn't in a position to restrain him in any way.
I decided I'd keep him close at hand in case it became apparent that he'd hurt Sandi in some way. I hoped my vision about her looking up and seeing a gun was not part of why she was missing. But if something had happened to her, Matthew was an obvious suspect.
“Excuse me!” I raised my voice in each room where parts of the group were gathered. “I'm looking for Sandi Foxx—mayor of Manteo. Has anyone seen her?”
People looked around like they always do, as though the person in question might be standing right next to them and they hadn't noticed. Heads shook and stories were offered of when they'd seen her last. Everyone agreed that they hadn't seen her since we'd left the ballroom during the storm.
Matthew stood at my side and shifted the expensive watch on his wrist, wiggled his feet, bit his lip and cracked his knuckles. He seemed guilty of something. The more people talked about her, the more nervous he got. He was a wreck.
Once we'd all agreed that no one had seen her, I enlisted the aid of several people I knew I could trust. Marissa got the master keys for the rooms after I assured her that Kevin wouldn't fire her for helping me. She helped me lay out a room-by-room map of where everyone was staying.
“This is Sandi's room,” she said. “It's on the third floor.”
“What about his room?” I pointed to Matthew.
“He's staying down the hall from her.”
It seemed likely to me that Sandi somehow got away from the group to look for her ring when the rest of us left the ballroom. When I presented that theory to Matthew, he broke down. “We went upstairs for a while. She thought it was funny being up there—doing it—you know? While everyone else was downstairs scared of the storm.”
“Wasn't she scared of the storm?” I asked him. “Weren't
you
scared?”
“I was terrified.” He glanced away, clearly scared now. “I didn't want to go up there, but she insisted.”
And of course, he didn't mind helping her out. He didn't have to explain any more than that. She probably just didn't come right back down after they were finished—and when she did come down, she went to find her ring.
I scrutinized Matthew with his wild hair and narrow face—what did Sandi see in him worth losing her job and her family? He was young, that was true. Maybe in his early to late twenties. Sandi was in her early forties. Maybe that was his charm.
He was lucky Sandi's husband—a very large ex-marine from Charleston—wasn't here to help look for her. I didn't want to know how nervous Matthew would be in that case.
Nancy, Marissa and I walked up the dark stairs to the third floor—Matthew closely in tow where I could keep an eye on him. There were only small emergency lights to guide the way. We were kind of bunched together as we felt our way down the long hall.
I glanced out of the window on the third-floor landing. The dark, angry sea was detailed by moonlight as it slapped at the shore. Despite the bright moonlight, I wished it was morning. I wished someone besides me was leading this effort to look for Sandi too. But I was stuck with the night and the responsibility, at least for a while.
Matthew led us to Sandi's room, but there was no answer when I knocked. Marissa unlocked the door—which said something to me about Sandi and Matthew's relationship. He didn't have a key.
Impatiently, I pushed into the large room, but there was no sign of Sandi. The bed was tumbled, pillows and blankets everywhere. Matthew hung his head when I looked at him. Marissa took a step back from him as though she was afraid of being too near.
Clothes were strewn around as though the storm had swept through the room. Sandi's pocketbook with her driver's license, credit cards and pictures of her family was still on her bedside table. She couldn't be far away.
“Could she be in
your
room?” Nancy asked Matthew in a none-too-delicate tone.

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