Rest in Peace

by Frances Devine

  “Oh!” Miss Jane’s exclamation responded to the sudden flood of light in the room.

  “Oh good. Electricity again.” We smiled at each other, and I tossed the phone book in a drawer and turned on my printer. I made three copies of each document and letter and placed the copies in my safe. Then I grabbed the phone and made a call to the sheriff’s office.

  “Sheriff Turner.”

  “Hi Sheriff. This is Victoria Storm.”

  “Don’t you know my office is closed today?”

  I sighed. “Yes, I do, in fact, but apparently you’re there since you answered the phone.”

  “Don’t get smart with me. What do you want?”

  “I happen to have some documents you might be interested in.”

  A very rude snort came through the receiver. “Okay. And just what are these important documents?”

  “They happen to be letters and other paperwork that Laura Baker found in Clyde’s safe-deposit box.”

  “And what are you doing with them?” At least it sounded as if he were taking me seriously now.

  I explained Laura’s request, leaving out the part about the copies.

  He sputtered and griped, then told me to come to the back door of the courthouse and he’d let me in.

  “Ready to go see Sheriff Turner?” I glanced at Miss Jane as I stuffed the originals back into the envelope.

  “Ready as rain.” She giggled, and I couldn’t keep from responding with a giggle of my own.

  Miss Jane ran upstairs to fetch her coat, and I peeked into the rec room, where the foursome now watched a John Wayne movie. I told them where Miss Jane and I were headed then grabbed a couple of umbrellas from the stand by the front door.

  I took my heavy jacket from its hook by the kitchen door and slipped it on as we went out to the garage.

  Thankfully, Miss Jane didn’t suggest driving her Cadillac. In this downpour, I’d have been a nervous wreck.

  The square was empty except for a few cars parked in front of the café, the hardware store, and the Mocha Java. I pulled the van into a spot in front of the courthouse, and we put our umbrellas up and hurried around the sidewalk to the back entrance. The sheriff opened the door before we got up the steps. Evidently, he had been watching for us.

  “Come on in before Miz Brody gets soaking wet. What do you mean by bringing her out in this kind of weather?” Hmmm. Apparently he didn’t care if I got soaking wet. But at least he was showing concern for Miss Jane.

  She shook her umbrella, and water splashed all over the sheriff.

  “Oh, excuse me, Bobby.” I grinned at her saccharin-sweet tone. “I didn’t know you were so close. And incidentally, Victoria doesn’t control my actions, for your information.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  I managed to hold back the chuckle that threatened to burst out as Miss Jane and I followed the sheriff into his office.

  He motioned to the chairs in front of his desk. We all sat, and he held his hand out toward me, palm up.

  Pretending not to see the hand, I laid the envelope on the chair, then took my time getting out of my wet coat, hanging it meticulously on the back of my chair.

  Victoria! I scolded myself. I’d been doing so much better lately with my attitude. I handed him the envelope.

  He pulled the papers out and laid them on his desk.

  “What’s this?” Tossing the papers aside, he grabbed a handful more and gave them a glance, then threw me an accusing look. “Is this your idea of a joke?”

  “Of course not. They’re in German, Sheriff.”

  “Oh. Well, can you read German?”

  “Sorry, no. I guess you’ll have to find someone to translate them.”

  He sucked in his bottom lip, then frowned at the documents as if they personally offended him. “Okay then. Thanks for bringing them by.”

  Miss Jane leaned forward. “Have you found out anything more about the suspicious circumstances of Aggie’s car and personal items?”

  “No, ma’am. But have you heard…?” He cleared his throat, then clamped his lips together.

  “Yes, Bobby, we know about the suitcase and the blood-stains.”

  “I’m sorry, Miz Brody. I know Miz Brow…Pennington-Brown was a good friend of yours.”

  “Was? Don’t assume Aggie’s dead, Bobby Turner. Because she most certainly isn’t, as you’d discover if you would do your job.”

  His face suddenly flamed, and he coughed. “Err…sorry, Miz Brody. Of course she might be alive and well, probably is. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.” He stood and strode over to open the door for us.

  Miss Jane fumed as we drove home. “It’s easier for them to conclude she’s dead than to find out who took her and where.”

  “I know, Miss Jane. I know.” But with the fresh reminder of the suitcase and the bloodstains, I couldn’t keep from worrying. And I didn’t see how Miss Aggie could possibly be at Pennington if her suitcase was in Jefferson City. But I wasn’t about to say that to Miss Jane.

  The rain didn’t let up, and by late afternoon Benjamin still hadn’t called back. A quick call to Phoebe revealed that she hadn’t heard from Corky either.

  Shortly after dinner the phone rang. I grabbed it and answered.

  “Victoria, it’s me.” Benjamin sounded exhausted.

  “What in the world is going on? Have you found out anything about Miss Aggie?”

  “No, I’m sorry.” He took a deep breath. “We don’t know anything more than we did. But Corky’s father has offered a reward, so we’re hopeful someone will come forward.”

  I sighed. “We need to pray the reward will do some good.”

  “Yes, we’ll do that. How is everything there?”

  “The stress is starting to get to some of the seniors. But they’re strong. They’ll be okay.”

  “I love you, honey. I’ll be home as soon as I can.”

  “I love you, too. And miss you so much. Please don’t take any risks.”

  “I promise. Try not to worry.”

  “Oh. I almost forgot.” I told him about Laura leaving town and the documents she’d given me.

  He chuckled. “I’m proud of you for taking them to the sheriff. It was the right thing to do.”

  “Yes, um, I did make copies. I’m going to try to have them translated.”

  “Vickie…”

  I didn’t like the exasperated tone. “I’m trying to do my part here, Benjamin, while you’re doing yours in Jefferson City.”

  There was a short silence before he spoke. “Of course. You’re right. I can’t help but worry about you when I’m not there.”

  “I know. Just as I worry about you. But I’m trusting God to look out for you. And you need to do the same with me.”

  After we hung up, I went to the rec room and told Frank and Martin. The ladies had all gone to their rooms, so I went upstairs and knocked on each of their doors, giving them the news about the reward.

  “Good,” Miss Jane said. “That should bring someone out of the woodwork. Money usually does.”

  I said good night and trudged up the stairs to my third-floor apartment.

  I sat in Grandma’s rocker and laid my head back. Tears streamed down my cheeks. “Father, please don’t let anyone hurt Miss Aggie. I couldn’t bear it.”

  Trust Me, daughter.

  The words were so strong in my spirit they were almost audible. I stayed still and listened, but nothing else came. I picked up my Bible from the side table and turned to my grandmother’s favorite scripture.

  “Trust in the LORD with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct your paths.”

  “I’m trying to trust You, Father. I know that You love Miss Aggie and You know exactly where she is and what is going on. I place her in Your hands once more, and this time, I’ll try to leave her there. And Lord, I’ll trust You to direct my path in this matter. In the name of Jesus. Amen.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN<
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  I reached over and shut off the clock alarm, then raised my arms above my head and stretched from my toes to my shoulders. Finally, I sat up and slipped my feet into my fuzzy slippers. The room seemed a little too dark for 6:00 a.m., so I headed to the window and threw open the curtains. Just as I’d suspected, the sky was still overcast, but at least it wasn’t pouring down rain like the day before.

  I took a quick shower, threw on sweats, and headed downstairs. Miss Jane was wiping up the counter and humming a tune. She looked up and gave me a grin. I didn’t see any food, but delicious aromas filled the air.

  “You’ve already cooked everything and taken it to the dining room, haven’t you?”

  “Yes,” she said, hanging the dishrag on the rack. “I woke up early and couldn’t sleep, so I decided to go ahead and cook.”

  “Ah, it smells delicious. Is there anything left for me to do?”

  “Orange juice needs pouring. The pitcher’s already on the buffet.”

  “Miss Jane.” I gave her tiny frame a squeeze then smiled. “Have I ever told you how much I appreciate all you do to help me, especially on the weekends?”

  “As a matter of fact, you have. Many times.” She swished her hand at me. “Now go pour that juice. I hear the gang coming down the stairs.”

  I laughed and did as bidden. The seniors ambled in and began filling their plates at the sideboard, a constant chatter going on.

  “Yep, I hope Whiggins don’t preach two hours like he did last week.” Martin frowned as he set his plate and juice on the table and sat.

  “He didn’t preach two hours. It was only an hour,” Miss Georgina scolded, then added, “The announcements took up a lot of time.”

  “I like Reverend Whiggins. He tells it like it is.” Miss Jane had come in from the kitchen and stood by the sideboard.

  “Yeah, or tells it the way he thinks it is,” Martin muttered.

  The three of them went to the same church, and they’d been having similar discussions since their new preacher had taken the position last spring.

  Miss Jane grabbed a plate and filled it, then sat at the end of the table. “All I can say is, if you don’t like him, change churches.”

  “I just might do that,” Martin retorted.

  Okay, time for a little intervention. I turned to Miss Evalina. “How do you like House of Prayer?”

  She and Frank had started attending the small, new church on the outskirts of town a few weeks ago.

  She patted her lips with her napkin, her eyes alight. “Oh Victoria, it is absolutely wonderful! The pastor is very involved in missions. You know, at one time I thought of becoming a missionary.”

  “Yes, I believe I do remember you mentioning it.”

  We got through breakfast with no more squabbles, and I breathed a sigh of relief when the seniors went upstairs to finish getting ready for church.

  I loaded the dishwasher and cleaned off the table and sideboard; then I went upstairs to get ready.

  I hoped Martin wasn’t going to be cantankerous all day. I couldn’t help but be glad he’d be having dinner with his son. Of course, Miss Jane had seemed a little skittish, too. She and Miss Georgina and I were going to the steak house in Caffee Springs after church. We planned to meet back at the lodge so we could check for messages from Benjamin and Corky before we left.

  As I drove to church, I prayed for Reverend Whiggins, that his sermon would be alive and not too long, both for his sake and his congregation’s.

  After a very uplifting message from Pastor Carl, I drove back to the lodge. There was one message waiting from Benjamin. He only said he’d call back later.

  I changed into jeans and a sweater and waited for Miss Jane and Miss Georgina to arrive. An hour later, we pulled into the parking lot at the steak house.

  A western-clad server led us to a booth in the back dining room, her fringed shirt and skirt weaving us safely through heavy-laden trays borne skyward by the servers. Western music, not too loud, serenaded us as we sat on the paddedseats. I sat across from the ladies, and we gave our drink orders then glanced at our menus.

  A few minutes later, our server brought our glasses of iced tea and took our orders.

  “Yum. It smells good in here.” Miss Georgina closed her eyes and inhaled. “I love the smoky smell. It reminds me of Silver Dollar City.”

  Miss Jane rolled her eyes. “Everything reminds you of Silver Dollar City.”

  “That’s not true,” Miss Georgina retorted. “Just smoke and stuff.”

  “Humph.” Miss Jane tilted her head as if she’d made her point.

  Our food arrived in the nick of time. My small filet was cooked to perfection. The ladies had each ordered chickenfried steak.

  Miss Georgina eyed my steak and sighed. “Oh, to have my real teeth again.”

  “Why?” Miss Jane snapped. “I can eat steak very well with my dentures.”

  “Then, why don’t you ever order one?”

  Good for you, Miss Georgina. Stand up for yourself. Miss Jane was frowning at her.

  Before she could speak, I threw her a bright smile. “How would you like to stop at Pennington House on the way home?”

  “I didn’t think you’d ever ask,” Miss Jane said. “Let’s go.”

  I laughed. “Let’s eat first, okay?”

  “That’s what I meant, silly. Let’s eat fast so we can leave.”

  A short time later we were on the blacktop back road thatled from Caffee Springs to Cedar Chapel. It also led to the uphill dirt road that would take us to Pennington House. Miss Jane sat beside me, watching closely for the turnoff.

  I braked at the same time I heard Miss Georgina’s gasp from the backseat.

  Instead of the broken wooden sign that had marked the road for years, a black-and-white scrolled piece of art swung from a black iron hanger. The sign boasted the words PENNINGTON HOUSE.

  “When did they get the new sign?” Miss Georgina voiced my thoughts.

  “This is why she didn’t want any of us here until the grand opening,” Miss Jane said, her voice soft. “She wanted to surprise us.”

  “I’m surprised all right,” Miss Georgina said. “Look at the road.”

  I turned and looked up the newly blacktopped spiral that wound its way to the top of the hill.

  “Maybe we shouldn’t go,” Miss Georgina said with a little sob. “It almost feels like sacrilege.”

  “Don’t talk nonsense.” Miss Jane’s voice trembled. “We need to search the grounds and riverbank just in case.”

  I took a deep breath and stepped on the gas pedal, turning onto the road. I was torn, agreeing with them both, but since we were here, I couldn’t let the chance go by. Although I didn’t really believe we’d find Miss Aggie here, I didn’t want the idea lingering in our minds. This was probably the best way to prevent future regret.

  As we wound our way up through the forest of oaks and cedars that surrounded Pennington, a myriad of thoughts raced through my mind. Miss Aggie, dirty but saucy as ever, standing in the room where she’d been imprisoned by Wolf and the Whitly boys. Benjamin grabbing a hatchet to bang down the door where the seniors and I had been locked in. That was, until Corky stopped him and handed him the key to the door—the tunnel where a murdered man had been discovered. And the day Miss Jane and I found the extension of the secret tunnel and stumbled our way into the cave, which had probably been used to hold smuggled goods.

  So many secrets. Many of them still unsolved. I couldn’t help but wonder how many more secrets this ancient house and grounds might hold.

  We rounded the last curve, and there before us, in the midst of a lush, green lawn, stood Pennington House. But an exciting and new Pennington House. The circular drive now sported cobblestones, and an iron hitching post stood by the front walk. The building itself had been restored to what must have been its former glory, before years of neglect had taken their toll.

  “Oh Jane. Look.” Miss Georgina’s voice held awe.

  I glanced at Miss J
ane. Tears streamed down her face.

  “It looks just like it did when we were girls.” Miss Jane’s voice, too, held wonderment as she almost choked out her words.

  The tall windows gleamed like diamonds, and the turret, which had fallen into dangerous disrepair, stood like a king’s sentinel overlooking the estate.

  “Sorry to spoil your surprise, Miss Aggie,” I whispered. “But I promise we won’t go inside.” I opened the car door and stepped onto the cobbled stones.

  A movement caught my eye, and I looked over by the side of the house. If anything had been there, it was gone now. Probably a squirrel or rabbit. But roiling unease bubbled in my stomach.

  Suddenly a shot rang out. Miss Georgina shrieked.

  “Get down,” I yelled to the ladies, who were on the other side of the car, thankful we had our open doors to duck behind. I slid inside the car and got down as low as possible. “Get in, but keep down.”

  Miss Georgina wriggled onto the back floorboard and pulled the door shut.

  Miss Jane eased into her seat and slammed the door, all the time leaning toward me. “What are we going to do?” she whispered.

  “You stay down low. I’ll try to turn the car around without getting my head shot off.”

  “Please, be careful.”

  I peeked over the steering wheel and didn’t see anything. Maybe whoever shot at us was gone, but I didn’t want to find out, to my sorrow, that I was wrong.

  I scrunched my arm around and reached for the door handle. When I’d slammed it shut, I turned the key. As soon as the car started, I slipped the gear into DRIVE. I sat up just enough to see over the steering wheel and stepped on the gas, guiding the car around the circle drive and down the road, my eyes on the rearview mirror.

  My heart lurched as an unfamiliar car shot from around the house and raced toward us.

  “Victoria! A car’s chasing us. Step on it!” Miss Jane shrieked.

  “Get down!” I stepped on the gas and raced down the twisting road, with the other car close behind.

  “Hurry, Victoria, he’s gaining on us!” Miss Jane shouted.