X Marks the Scot

by Kaitlyn Dunnett

  Their second stop was the Day Lily Inn, a mile or so out along Upper Lime Street. It had eight units and no restaurant. The complimentary breakfast consisted of day-old pastries and bad coffee served in the lobby. The proprietor claimed to have gotten a good look at all his current guests and swore Benny wasn’t one of them.

  “I’d remember a looker like her,” he said, giving Liss a friendly leer.

  Having known him all her life, and well aware that he didn’t have a lecherous bone in his skinny body, Liss responded by giving him a peck on the cheek. “Thanks, Wally. See you at the next Small Business Association meeting?”

  “Maybe. Depends.”

  That was what he always said. Like many in the community, he found it hard to get away from what was essentially a one-man business to do much of anything else. The only help he had was a part-time housekeeper who came in daily to clean the units.

  Back in the truck, Liss consulted her trusty Maine Atlas and Gazetteer, the only reliable guide to roads in an area where GPS regularly directed cars down dead-end dirt tracks or substituted the local post office for a street address. She had a pretty good idea where most of the hotels and motels in the surrounding area were located. What she was looking for was confirmation that she’d picked the most logical route to take her where she needed to go.

  “Our targets are in two clumps. One in Fallstown to the south. One in the opposite direction, taking in the ski areas. I think we can rule out the Sinclair House over in Waycross Springs. It’s a good hour by car and just as expensive as The Spruces.”

  “Agreed. So—north or south?”

  “South. Fallstown is closer.”

  Twenty minutes later, they pulled into the parking lot at the Fallstown Motor Lodge. It boasted fifteen rooms and low rates and had the added advantage of being walking distance from downtown shops, the county courthouse, the Fallstown branch of the University of Maine, and the local brew pub, a place called the Meandering Moose. It was not, however, the current location of Benny Beamer.

  They left the truck in the motel parking lot and walked around the corner to the Lonesome Stranger B&B. Its four rooms, all done up in cluttered high Victorian décor, were rented out to a wedding party.

  Before continuing the search, they had lunch at the Moose, taking a table in the restaurant half instead of the lounge. Food always cheered Liss up. She was brimming with optimism as they set off for the newly built Comfort Inn on the outskirts of Fallstown.

  The desk clerk studied Benny’s picture for a long time, but in the end he shook his head. “Doesn’t look familiar,” he said.

  “Is there anyone else we can ask? This is a pretty big place. Maybe you weren’t on duty when she checked in.”

  Another head shake answered her. “Might be big and new and all that, but we aren’t exactly turning folks away. Get a week when there’s nothing going on in town and we’re close to empty from Sunday night till Friday. There’s only a handful of people staying here right now and she’s not one of them.”

  “Guess we head north,” Dan said in a resigned voice when they were back in the truck.

  “Not yet.” Liss refused to be discouraged. “We need to visit Lakeside Cabins first.”

  “Their rates are outrageous at this time of year.”

  “I know. But maybe Benny’s less interested in saving money than she is in hiding out. It’s worth a look.”

  Located a couple of miles outside of Fallstown on the shores of Loon Lake, the housekeeping cabins were scattered through a wooded area to ensure privacy. Liss had known the owner, Geraldine Robin, for years. Gerri had bright beads for eyes, well suited to her surname, but in personality she more closely resembled a bird of prey. She was always ready to pounce on the least infraction. She took a hard look at Benny’s photo and then, like the clerk at the Comfort Inn, shook her head.

  “Nope. Haven’t seen her. Friend of yours?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “Run out on a bill at The Spruces?” This was directed at Dan and accompanied by a smirk.

  “Yeah, that’s it. Give us a call if she shows up here, will you?”

  “She shows up here, I’ll boot her out so fast it’ll make her head spin. I hate deadbeats.”

  Hiding a grin, Liss thanked her and left. On the way back to the truck, she punched Dan in the shoulder. “Wretch! You lied to the nice lady.”

  “Nice lady my aunt Fanny. That woman has always rubbed me the wrong way.”

  “Good thing Lakeside Cabins is one of the most unlikely places for Benny to go to ground. I suppose we should try Orlin next.”

  That small town was located a half hour’s drive north of Moosetookalook. It would take them almost an hour to get there. Five Mountains Ski Resort was Orlin’s premier hostelry. The place was huge, offering every level of accommodation from simple single rooms to a luxury condo. If Benny was staying there, she could easily slip through the radar, but Liss was determined to take a stab at finding her. She knew a few people who worked there and sought them out after they struck out with the desk clerk. None of them remembered seeing anyone who looked like Benny. Describing her small stature didn’t ring any bells, either.

  “There are other ski areas, other motels, and other B&Bs,” Liss said.

  Dan just gave her a look.

  “Yeah. I’m ready to quit for the day, too.”

  Halfway home, Dan cleared his throat. “Tomorrow’s Friday. If Beth can’t work and you need to keep the shop open, I can continue the search on my own. I was planning to take next week off anyway.”

  Liss started to ask why, then remembered that Tuesday was their anniversary. Not only that, but sometime in the next few days, her parents were going to turn up in Moosetookalook. She didn’t even want to think about that!

  “What do you say?” Dan asked, reminding her of his offer.

  “I’m not sure it’s worth your time, or mine, either. We’ve already hit the most likely possibilities, and now that I think about it, she could have rented a camp for a week or two. They’re all over the place, and not as obvious as hotels and motels and B&Bs.”

  “True enough. Patsy was saying just the other day that the neighbors on both sides of her place on Ledge Lake are renting out their camps this year. Short and long term.” Dan sent her a sideways glance. “I thought at the time that spending a week at one of them might make a nice vacation for us. Still close to home, but far enough away to give us a break.”

  “That’s a really sweet idea.”

  “But?”

  “But I think we’ll have to get a lot farther away from Moosetookalook before it turns into a romantic getaway for two.”

  “I’ll look into that,” he promised as he pulled into their driveway. “Meanwhile, how about a single evening for just the two of us? No mention of crime. No speculation about treasure. No worries about the future. Turn off both the cell phones and the landline.”

  “No Red Sox game tonight?”

  “Travel day. We could even watch a romantic movie. Your choice.”

  That, she could agree to.

  Chapter Sixteen

  On Friday morning, even though Liss hadn’t called to ask her to work, Beth showed up at the Emporium shortly after it opened. With her was her steady boyfriend, Liss’s cousin, formerly known as Boxer. She reminded herself to make sure to call him Ed.

  Ed spotted Liss’s copy of the portrait of the Clan Grant piper as soon as he walked in. After a moment’s study, he shook his head. “That is one ugly dude. I hope you didn’t pay much for him.”

  “Everybody’s a critic.”

  “The original wasn’t even good for the time. Seventeen hundreds, right?” At her nod, he started to rattle off names of famous portrait painters of that era.

  “Let me guess—you took a class in art appreciation this past year?” Her cousin would start his junior year in college in the fall.

  “Nope. Part of something called cultural heritage that we have to take for four long semesters no matter wha
t our major is.” He shrugged. “It’s actually pretty interesting. Mostly. Anyway, the Grant piper was not included in the examples of great portraits.”

  “Why am I not surprised. It came out of the Chadwick mansion.”

  “I remember. It was in the dining room. I also heard somebody hid a treasure map inside the frame.”

  Liss stopped straightening inventory. “Beth told you, I suppose.”

  “Nope. It was Aunt Rhonda.” He settled sideways into one of the easy chairs in the cozy corner, his long legs dangling over the arm.

  “Rhonda Snipes? But how—? Never mind. I can guess. The Moosetookalook grapevine is alive and well.”

  “Wrong again. It’s her job as a housekeeper at The Spruces that gives her an inside track.”

  Liss hadn’t thought about it before, but now she saw that Ed’s aunt was in an ideal position to snoop on guests. “I don’t suppose Rhonda knows where Benny Beamer has gone?”

  “I can ask. It’ll cost you, though.” At Liss’s lifted eyebrows, he grinned. “Aunt Rhonda only knew bits and pieces and Beth is in the dark about a lot of it too. I want to hear the whole story.”

  “And you think I know it?”

  “Most of it, yeah. The rest you’ll probably figure out before too much longer.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

  It couldn’t hurt, Liss supposed, to go over it all again for her cousin’s benefit. The exercise might give her some new ideas.

  Since the shop was, not unusually for this hour of the day, free of customers, she used the computer that also served as a cash register to call up the scans she’d made. She had everything in there now—the material from Nova Scotia, the contents of Dolores’s file folder, and both sides of the map. Once Ed and Beth joined her behind the sales counter, Liss began her show-and-tell.

  They already knew all about Blackie O’Hare’s legacy. Her cousin had been very familiar with both the Chadwick mansion and the tunnel the Chadwicks had built from their basement to Ten Mile Stream. Not surprisingly, he was fascinated by the map.

  “So this Lester Widdowson guy hid it behind the portrait?”

  Liss nodded.

  “That old place sure saw a lot of action before they tore it down.”

  “More than its share,” Liss agreed, and finished filling him in.

  Ed considered that in silence for a few minutes and then surprised Liss with a question. “Did you know that my great-grandfather Harry Snipes was a bootlegger too? To hear Uncle Cracker tell it, he was thick as thieves with the Chadwicks. Makes sense. This town wouldn’t have been big enough back then to support two smuggling operations. My guess is that he worked for them. He probably wasn’t smart enough to go it alone.”

  “He’d have had animal cunning,” Liss mused aloud. “Present company excepted, there are no intellectual giants in the Snipes family, but the entire clan has definitely been blessed with street smarts.”

  “Yeah,” her cousin agreed with a hint of sarcasm, “only occasionally do they get caught and sent to jail. Anyway, some of the old man’s stuff is still in the attic over at Rhonda and Cracker’s house. He’s real proud of having a grandfather who outsmarted the revenuers.”

  Beth had said little during the last hour, but she had been paying close attention. “It’s not so smart to keep evidence of illegal activities,” she remarked, making it obvious that she didn’t share her boyfriend’s enthusiasm for exploring Cracker Snipes’s attic.

  “I’m not sure anything to do with Prohibition is relevant,” Liss said, “although if it turns out that Benny really is writing an article, I expect she’d be interested in whatever you find.”

  “First you have to find her,” Beth said.

  “Ask Aunt Rhonda. She’s at work,” Ed added helpfully.

  “You really think she knows?”

  “Fifty-fifty chance of it. You should hear the stories she tells about guests at The Spruces. Most of the time they ignore the housekeeping staff. It’s like they’re invisible. So she overhears all kinds of things.”

  “Most of the time?”

  “The ones who do notice her are apt to be looking for something the hotel doesn’t offer.” He glanced at the clock on the wall behind the sales counter and beat feet for the door, leaving her to make what she would of that statement. “If I’m going to look for old Harry’s stuff, I’d better go over there while everyone’s at work.”

  “Cracker and the boys have jobs?” Liss asked Beth after he’d gone.

  “Amazing, isn’t it? They’re directing traffic for a road crew.”

  “He’s not going to break in, is he?”

  “Are you kidding? They never lock the doors. They haven’t got anything worth stealing.” But she still looked worried.

  “Something bothering you, Beth?” Liss wasn’t sure she wanted to know, but she felt compelled to ask.

  “I just wish he’d stay away from them altogether.” She sighed. “I wish his last name wasn’t Snipes. They have such a terrible reputation and if Ed and I ever get married, I’ll be a Snipes too.”

  “There’s a way around that.”

  “Don’t marry him?”

  Liss shook her head. “Keep your maiden name.”

  That got a smile out of Beth, but before they could continue their conversation, the phone rang.

  As soon as Liss picked up, Sherri rushed into speech. “I just got a report on what was on the back of the map.”

  “That was fast.”

  “My expert never had a treasure map to play with before. Do you want to know what he found?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “It’s a continuation of the directions, telling you how far from X you need to go to find the real treasure.”

  Liss held the receiver away from her face and stared at it before putting it back against her ear. “You mean like in—”

  “Yeah. Just like in Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark. Turns out it was Lester Widdowson’s favorite movie.”

  * * *

  Morning was just giving way to afternoon when Liss drove into the staff parking lot at The Spruces. She’d hoped to spend the afternoon at the Chadwick place, following the new set of directions on the map, but Sherri insisted they get permission from Brad Jardine first. So far, she’d been unable to reach him.

  She felt a trifle guilty as she left the car and headed inside. Once again, she’d left Beth on her own in the shop. She told herself that things wouldn’t get busy until after one, and that Beth could handle it, and that Margaret was at home, right upstairs, available to ride to the rescue if Beth felt overwhelmed. None of that made her feel any better, but she didn’t turn around and drive back to town, either.

  Rhonda was just coming out of a room on the third floor. She sent Liss a wary look as she tucked something into the pocket of her uniform. “Help you?”

  “I hope so. I’m looking for Benny Beamer.”

  “She checked out.” Rhonda chewed steadily, cow-like, on a wad of gum. Neither the sight nor the sounds it made were appealing.

  “I was hoping you’d know where she went.”

  Rhonda said nothing. Liss had the feeling she was expecting her to say more, but she couldn’t figure out what it was. Finally, looking exasperated, Rhonda took her hand out of her pocket and rubbed her thumb and fingers together in the universal sign for “give me money.”

  “Oh.” Embarrassed, Liss realized she only had a few dollars on her. “I don’t suppose you’d take a check?”

  Rhonda’s lips twitched. A moment later, she was laughing so hard that tears ran down her cheeks. She patted at them with a dust rag as she struggled to get herself under control. “You crack me up,” she sputtered. “This time—one time only—I’ll answer your question for free.”

  “Thank you,” Liss said.

  “Might not be worth much anyway. Curly-top asked me about hotels over to Waycross Springs. ‘Nice accommodations’ is how she put it.” Rhonda pushed her cart along the hallway, moving past Liss to get to the
next room. “I told her to try the Sinclair House.”

  * * *

  Waycross Springs took an hour to reach by car, but once Liss told Sherri what she’d learned, it took only a phone call to confirm that Benny was indeed registered there. They set out a short time later.

  Like The Spruces, the Sinclair House dated from the end of the nineteenth century and still reflected the spirit of the Gilded Age. It had been upgraded to the twenty-first century with similar subtlety and style. Free Internet access existed side by side with gracious and elegant dining in a room that reeked of palatial splendor.

  Liss had a nodding acquaintance with the owner’s wife, Corrie Sinclair, but it was Sherri’s badge that got them the information they needed. Although Benedicta Beamer was a guest at the hotel, she was not in her room.

  “Do you know where she went?” Sherri asked the desk clerk.

  “Pine Woods.”

  Liss had never heard of it and said so.

  “It’s a nursing home located just on the other side of Waycross Springs. Ms. Beamer said she was going to visit someone there.”

  Armed with driving directions, Liss and Sherri headed for Pine Woods. Liss felt more and more tense the closer they came to their destination. She had been trying to avoid thinking about nursing homes, senior citizen housing, and assisted living facilities. To actually pay a visit to one took her way out of her comfort zone.

  To Liss’s surprise, the front door of the facility was locked. To get in, Sherri had to press a button and identify herself over a speaker system. When a security camera swiveled to look right at them, Liss managed a sickly smile.

  “Is this a nursing home or a prison?” she whispered.

  “I expect they have patients with Alzheimer’s, so they’re wise to take precautions to keep them from wandering off. Do you have any idea how many calls rural police get every year because an elderly person has gone missing? If we have to search for them in the woods or near bodies of water, the results are rarely good.”

  Liss’s spirits drooped even lower. Envisioning a future in which she’d be responsible for her parents’ safety depressed her. With all the advances in modern medicine, it seemed absurd to think that no one had found a way to stop memory loss, let alone some of the degenerative ailments that made it difficult for older people to get around.