by Carol Cox
Paul pursed his lips in a low whistle. “That’s quite a different story, isn’t it?”
“No kidding. And would you believe he said he wanted my help? I believe he thinks I can find a way to prove his innocence.”
“Whoa. Talk about being pulled in two directions at once. What did you tell him?”
“I told him I’d keep looking for the truth,” Kate said simply.
The brightness of Paul’s smile warmed her through and through. “That’s my girl,” he said. “Wow, it’s only midafternoon, and look what you’ve already accomplished.”
“Wait, there’s still more.” Kate burst into laughter at his look of surprise, then sobered as she told Paul about the police arriving and taking the professor into custody. “I can’t get over that look he gave me when they were putting him into the patrol car. It was so sad, as if he was appealing to me somehow.”
Paul regarded her thoughtfully. “Are you sure you aren’t wasting your sympathy on this fellow? After all, he may well turn out to be Casey’s assailant.”
“That’s just it,” Kate sighed. “I don’t know. I’m accumulating more bits of information all the time, but I don’t know which of them I can believe.”
Paul shook his head and grinned. “You’ve been busy, all right. Maybe I ought to call you Wonder Woman.”
Kate held up her right arm and pretended to flex her muscles. “All in a day’s work.”
They both laughed, then settled into a comfortable silence. Kate reflected on how good it was to have someone to share life’s moments with, both good and bad.
“There’s something else I wanted to talk to you about,” she said. “While I was leaving Chattanooga, I passed by the turnoff to Orchard Hill. That brought Nehemiah to mind, and thinking about Nehemiah reminded me of Millie.”
The corners of Paul’s lips quirked up in a grin. “I’m sure there’s some logic in all this.”
Kate gave him a playful swat on the shoulder. “Of course there is. You’re talking to Wonder Woman, remember?”
She went on in a more serious tone. “Nehemiah told us that Millie has dropped by to see him several times recently, and I started wondering. If Millie really does have some serious medical condition, do you think she’s been visiting Nehemiah for counsel on how to cope with it?”
Paul blinked, as if the thought had never occurred to him. “I suppose that’s possible.” He fell silent, then picked up a letter opener from his desk and twiddled it between his fingers, looking vaguely distracted.
“Is something wrong?” Kate asked.
Paul shrugged as if embarrassed and gave her a sheepish look. He set the letter opener back on the desk and said, “I guess I’m feeling a little left out. After all, I’m Millie’s pastor.”
Kate stepped around the desk to give him a hug.
“That’s true, but in comparison to Nehemiah’s long tenure here, we’ve only been at Faith Briar for a relatively short time. Millie worked for him for many years, and they have a long-standing relationship. Perhaps that’s what Millie feels the need to draw on right now.”
Paul turned and slipped his arm around her waist, squeezing back. “You’re right. It does make sense that Nehemiah would be the one she’d want to turn to in a time of crisis.”
“Besides,” Kate went on, struck by a new idea, “you’re Millie’s boss as well as her pastor. Maybe she’s afraid she’ll lose her job if you think she won’t be able to continue working.”
At Paul’s stunned look, she added, “You and I both know you’d never do anything like that, but it’s the kind of thing Millie might think of.” Kate sighed and perched on the arm of Paul’s chair. “What can we do? I want to find some way to help, but she keeps pushing me away.”
“Let’s agree to pray that God will help us support Millie in whatever way will mean the most to her.”
“That sounds good,” Kate told him, then got to her feet. “I’ll let you get back to work now. Thanks for talking. I just needed to touch base and get your take on things while they’re still fresh in my mind.”
Paul rose and kissed the tip of her nose. “Anytime, hon. I’ll see you this evening.”
“That sounds like my cue to exit,” Kate said with a wink.
SPENDING TIME WITH PAUL had given Kate a new spurt of energy, and she hummed as she got into her Honda. A thought struck her as she slid the key into the ignition, and her hand froze. With trembling fingers, Kate reached into her handbag for her cell phone and scrolled through her contact list.
Her lips curved while she selected Nehemiah’s phone number. She could solve the mystery of Millie’s trips to Orchard Hill with one quick call to him. Then the smile faded from her lips, and she ended the call. Nehemiah would never divulge that kind of personal information about Millie or anyone else. Whatever he had learned from Millie during her visits would be kept in strictest confidence.
But Millie hadn’t been the only visitor to Orchard Hill. Kate’s heartbeat quickened, remembering that Nehemiah had told her and Paul about Casey visiting one of the other residents. And Dr. White had mentioned her having a great-grandfather in the area. Feeling like a bloodhound on a fresh trail, Kate punched in the number again.
SEVERAL MINUTES LATER, she hung up the phone and started her car. She now had the answers to one, if not all, of her questions. Nehemiah still couldn’t give her any clue as to whether Casey had been related to the man she visited there, but he did know the name of the other resident: Willis Henshaw.
Kate pulled out of the parking lot and turned on her right blinker when she reached the corner of Smoky Mountain Road. Then she changed her mind and turned left instead, heading back into town.
Regarding her concerns about Millie, there was still one other way she might find out what was going on.
LIVVY WAS BUSY helping a patron when Kate entered the library, so she merely waved and headed straight upstairs without stopping to visit. Back in the reference section, she went to the table where she’d been working on Monday.
From there, she walked toward the bank of computers, trying to retrace her steps as exactly as possible. Where had she been when she spotted Millie?
It was right about...here. Kate stopped and gazed at the shelves where Millie had stood, book in hand. Kate tried to remember the approximate location where Millie had shoved the book back onto the shelf before she stalked out. If Millie had been using the computer at church to look for information on some medical condition, it stood to reason that she might have been doing research at the library as well. Keeping her eyes focused on the spot, Kate walked over to the shelves, bracing herself for what she might find.
Buck up, she told herself. If Millie needed help, she and Paul would have to know what they were dealing with.
Kate reached the place where Millie had stood and reached out as she’d seen her do. Her fingers brushed the books on the shelves in front of her. Kate scanned their titles and blinked, sure she hadn’t read them correctly.
A second glance told her she hadn’t been mistaken after all. Instead of seeing volumes on various diseases, she was looking at the section on literature.
Kate swiveled her head back and forth, wondering if she’d made a mistake. No, this was the place where she’d seen Millie looking at the book.
Livvy appeared at the end of the aisle, carrying an armload of books. “I figured I’d find you up here,” she said with a grin. She started putting the books back into their places on the shelves. “But I thought you might have come to do some more Internet sleuthing.”
“I came to do some sleuthing, all right,” Kate said, “but not on the computer.”
Livvy looked at her questioningly, so Kate went on. “To tell you the truth, I was trying to figure out what Millie was looking at when I saw her here the other day. But this”—she waved her hand toward the books on the shelf in front of her—“this isn’t at all what I expected.”
“Hmm.” Livvy slid a book from the stack she was carrying and held it out to Kate.
“I don’t know what she was looking at the other day, but she checked this one back in during her lunch break.”
Kate reached out to take the book and stared at the title: How to Write a Killer Mystery.
“Is it all right if I take this with me?”
Livvy drew herself upright, then said in a pompous tone, “Only if you check it out through the proper channels.”
Kate sputtered with laughter at her friend’s quip, grateful that no one else was nearby at the moment. She waited until Livvy had shelved the other books, then they went downstairs together, still giggling like schoolgirls.
At the circulation desk, Livvy took Kate’s library card and checked out the book, then slid the book and the card back across the counter to Kate. “Not that it’s any of my business,” she said in a bemused tone, “but is there any special reason you want to read this? Do you think it’ll help you solve all your mysteries or something?”
Kate looked down at the title and replied softly, “Not all of them, but maybe one.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Livvy turned to the shelving cart nearby and took out another armload of books. Kate glanced idly at the books that remained on the cart, then did a double take. She slid one of the books from the bottom shelf and flipped through it thoughtfully.
“Would you please check this one out for me too?” she asked Livvy.
Livvy glanced at the title and scrunched up her face. “Tracing Your Roots: A Beginner’s Guide to Genealogy. Don’t you already have enough to keep you busy without adding something else?”
“You’re probably right,” Kate chuckled. “I just want to take a look through it and see if it gives me any ideas for some research on this case.” She waited for Livvy to check the book out, then thumbed through its pages again. “Also, Liv, could you help me retrieve some of those archived issues of the Chronicle?”
“No problem,” Livvy said, looking more puzzled by the minute. “I’ll set you up at the microfiche reader. Just give me a minute to shelve these books, and then I’ll meet you upstairs.”
A short while later, Livvy pulled the cover off the microfiche machine. “Which issue are you looking for?”
“I’ll need to see several issues,” Kate told her. “Quite a few of them, actually. I want to look through some of the papers from a number of years ago.”
“How far back do you want to go?”
“I’m not sure.” Kate did a quick mental calculation. “How about if we start with the late 1940s?”
Livvy’s eyes danced. “I’m on it.” She disappeared for a few moments, then returned with several canisters containing spools of microfiche film. “These cover about twenty years,” she said. “I brought some from earlier than you’d mentioned, just in case you needed to backtrack a bit, so these range from the thirties to the early fifties. Just let me know when you’re finished with this batch, and I’ll go get you some more. Is there anything I can help you find?”
Kate gave her a rueful smile. “I’m not entirely sure what I’m looking for. I may be off on a wild-goose chase.”
Livvy laughed. “Happy chasing, then. I’ll be downstairs. Let me know if you need anything.”
KATE’S HEART SANK when she considered the daunting task before her. Was she really planning to sort through newspapers spanning more than half a century? At least the Chronicle was a weekly paper and not a daily. She tried to take comfort in that.
Search for the truth. Kate squared her shoulders and reminded herself that sleuthing didn’t always mean getting an idea and dashing off to confirm it. Sometimes it meant having to dig in and sift through piles of information to find the answers.
Yes, the task before her and the prospect of more to come was somewhat intimidating, but she needed to press on. The answer, she felt sure, lay not too far ahead. She couldn’t turn back when she might be so close to reaching her goal.
She scrolled through the spools one by one until she found an entry that caught her interest. Kate read through the article, taking notes. She spent the rest of the afternoon reading and note taking, scribbling notes from various articles, and asking Livvy to bring out archived copies of the Chronicle from different eras from time to time.
Hours later, Kate’s eyes were burning so much that she feared she might miss something important. She decided the better part of wisdom would be to go over her notes back at home and return the next day after a good night’s rest.
She made her way downstairs and gave Livvy a feeble wave on her way out. “Thanks a million, Liv.”
“Did you find what you were looking for?”
“Part of it, anyway. I’ve looked at those old papers until my eyes feel like they’re crossing. I’m done for today.” Kate rolled her shoulders and neck to loosen the tight muscles. “Would you mind keeping all that material handy? I’ll be back tomorrow to work on it some more.”
BACK AT HOME, Kate started arranging her notes on the dining table. She laid them out in approximate chronological order, tweaking the sequence until she felt they were beginning to tell a story. There were still a number of gaps in the information she had gleaned, but she felt she’d made a good start.
A wave of weariness swept over her, and Kate realized that the events of the day had worn her out. She picked up the books she’d checked out at the library and curled up on the living-room couch. By the time Paul’s truck pulled up in front of the house, she was deeply immersed in the book on genealogical research.
The door off the garage opened, and Paul walked in. “Hi, honey, I’m home,” he called, doing a bad Ricky Ricardo impression. “You have anything in mind for supper? I’m starving.”
He stopped short at the sight of Kate lounging on the couch with a book in her lap. “Are you okay?”
Kate slammed the book shut and clapped her hand over her mouth. “I am so sorry. I got so wrapped up in what I was doing, I completely forgot about supper.” She jumped up and tossed the book on the couch, then headed for the kitchen. “Just give me a few minutes, and I’ll get something in the oven.”
“There’s no time for that,” Paul said, following her. “I have a meeting this evening.”
“Oh my, that’s right. I’ve lost all track of time lately.”
Paul looked at her sympathetically. “Why don’t we just slap a couple of sandwiches together to tide us over? I’ll pick up something from JD’s Smokeshack on the way home.”
“I know you,” Kate teased him. “You’ll take any excuse to have some of JD’s barbecued ribs.” Then she grew sober. “Are you sure you don’t mind?”
“Of course not,” Paul said. “You look exhausted.”
Kate smiled. “You’re a good man, Paul Hanlon.”
Paul opened his mouth to answer, then caught sight of all the pieces of paper arranged in rows and columns on the dining table. “What’s all this?”
“That’s part of the reason I got so distracted,” Kate said. “After I stopped to see you at the church, I spent the rest of the afternoon at the library. Why don’t you take a look at what I’ve done while I fix those sandwiches?”
As she prepared their light meal, Paul stood at the table, poring over her notes. “I can tell you’ve done a lot of work on this,” he said, “but I’m not sure what it all means.”
“I’m not positive myself,” Kate admitted. “But I’m hoping it’ll prove to be a connection with Casey.” She handed him one of the ham-and-swiss sandwiches and watched him take a bite. “Do you mind if I talk to you about it while you eat?”
When he mumbled agreement around his sandwich, she went on. “All along I’ve been sorting through the pieces of this puzzle, and it finally looks like they’re starting to fit together.
“Do you remember Nehemiah telling us about Casey visiting a man at Orchard Hill? I made a phone call to him this afternoon and found out the man’s name was Willis Henshaw. I started doing some research on the family, and it turns out they have quite a history around Copper Mill.”
Kate waved her
hand to indicate the scraps of notes from her afternoon in the library. “I’ve been able to learn quite a lot about them. There are still a few gaps in the story where I’ve had to rely on guesswork to piece the facts together, but this is the gist of what I think happened.”
Paul settled into his chair and munched on his sandwich while she continued.
“The man who became the patriarch of this family was born back in the hills in the 1920s, when Prohibition was in full swing. The young man’s father made and sold illegal liquor, which brought in a ton of money.
“Prohibition ended, but the family stayed in the liquor business and managed to bring in a small fortune while the rest of the country was going through the Great Depression.”
Paul pursed his lips and gave a low whistle.
“I’m only getting started,” Kate told him. “When some of their competitors tried to shut them down, the family faded back into the hills, where they couldn’t be found. They continued to operate, but not always in a legal manner.
“Then World War II came along. The young man—the Willis Henshaw that Nehemiah told me about—married and had children of his own, two boys and a girl. He started transferring his wealth into more legitimate enterprises, hoping that after enough time passed, people would forget where the original money came from.”
“Money laundering,” Paul said with a grim expression.
“Exactly.” Kate riffled through her notes. “Willis’ plan seemed to work. And just as his father controlled the people who worked for him, Willis kept a tight rein on his children, this time controlling them through his wealth.
“When one of his sons was killed, he clamped down on his two remaining children even more. But his daughter rebelled and ran off to marry a man her father didn’t approve of. She and her husband moved to the Northwest and settled in Washington.”
She paused to see if Paul had any comment, but he merely nodded and gestured for her to go on. The rest of his sandwich lay on his plate, apparently forgotten.
“Willis’ son, Nathan, went into business with his dad, but they didn’t always agree on how to handle things. Nathan married a girl and had one child, a boy named Jack.