A Haunting Dream (A Missing Pieces Mystery) by Joyce Lavene, Jim

I’m waiting for my daddy to come and get me.”
    Betsy Sparks? Chuck had a daughter?
    “Where is your daddy?”
    “I don’t know.” She shrugged, her tiny shoulders pitiful under the extra-large brown sweater she wore. “I thought he’d be here by now. Can you find him? You’re the finder lady, aren’t you?”
    I wasn’t sure what to tell her. I wasn’t sure if this was real or my imagination. I’d convinced myself that what had happened at the beach with Chuck turning his head and talking to me wasn’t real. I didn’t know what to think about this little girl.
    “What’s your daddy’s name?” I decided to test her.
    “His name is Charlie, but most people call him Chuck. Like that little girl with Charlie Brown, you know?”
    “I know.” I was confused. I didn’t know Chuck well, but it seemed like I would know if he had a child. If nothing else, local gossip would’ve been lamenting his involvement in the real estate scandal because he had a daughter who needed him.
    The only other possibility came to me slowly. In my defense, I was dreaming. “Did you just move to Duck to live with your daddy?”
    “Yes. My mommy—”
    Betsy suddenly held up her arms and began kicking at something, or someone. She pounded at it and screamed. She looked as though she were being lifted up and moved from the car by some unseen force. She fought as hard as she could, but she could not free herself from whatever gripped her. She called to her father over and over.
    I wanted to help, but though I was substantial enough for her to see me, my hands and arms went through Betsy and the invisible entity that was taking her. I screamed at them to let her go, lending my voice to hers. But there was nothing I could do. In an instant, she was gone , vanished, and so was the Lincoln.
    Chuck Sparks was still there, dying in the parking lot. He turned his head again and said, “Help her.”

Chapter 6

    I woke up, my chest heaving and tears streaming down my face. I had to get out of bed and go downstairs. I was too caught up in the dream to go back to sleep. It kept replaying over and over like a bad movie.
    But I was convinced that it was real. Finding Chuck’s body on the beach was no accident.
    Gramps was downstairs watching reruns of
Gilligan’s Island
. There was no way to disguise my red eyes, sniffling and tears spilling down my cheeks. When he saw me, he turned off the TV and came to put his arms around me.
    “Aw, honey. He just wasn’t the right man for you. Another one will come along. I’m sorry I pushed you into meeting him.”
    “I’m not crying about Kevin.”
    “Of course you’re not.” He scratched his white beard. “I just wish your mama or grandma were alive to talk to you about all this female stuff. I know I haven’t been much good at that. Thank God your mother was still alive when you were a teenager.”
    I had to laugh at that. Poor Gramps. He felt like he’d never understood. In many cases, he was right. “That’s not what I mean.” I told him about the dream. “I think Chuck may have a daughter.”
    “I don’t recall ever hearing about a daughter, do you?”
    “No. But we weren’t close to him. We could check with the school tomorrow. She looked like she was big enough to be in school.”
    “But that’s assuming she lives here in Duck.”
    “True. But she was in the Harris Teeter parking lot. And she said she lived here.”
    “Maybe you should mention this to Ronnie first,” he said. “You know he doesn’t like you to see these things and go off on your own.”
    “I think I should check with the school first. I mean, her name is Betsy Sparks, she said. Once I find out if she’s registered here, then I’ll say something to the chief.”
    “I’ll be glad to go with you, if you need a sidekick.”
    “I’ll be fine. I don’t want you to give up your fishing charter tomorrow. Thanks anyway. I never ate that corn muffin before the debate. I’m starving now. I’ll just