Rest in Peace

by Frances Devine

  “But I did. I simply made copies first. You know he wouldn’t have told us anything.”

  “Does he know you have copies?”

  “No, but what difference does that make? I didn’t break any law, and I gave him the originals, so I’m not withholding evidence.”

  A muscle jumped beside his mouth, and then he chuckled. “No, I suppose you’re not.”

  I leaned over and pressed my lips briefly against his. “Good night.”

  “You running me off?”

  “Uh-huh. You need to get some rest.”

  He stretched and yawned again. “Sorry.”

  I laughed. “You don’t need to be sorry. I know you’re not bored. How could you be? You’re with me.”

  “Okay. That’s very true.”

  “So go home. And don’t try to work tonight, okay?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He jumped up. “One more for the road, okay?”

  I laughed and put my arms around his neck. “I love you.”

  He bent toward me, and I closed my eyes. His lips pressed against mine, and when he raised his head, I leaned against his chest.

  “I love you, too, baby.” His voice was hoarse. “G’night.”

  “Good night. Come to dinner tomorrow?”

  “I thought you’d never ask.”

  After he’d gone, I filled Buster’s water bowl and put him in the basement, then turned off the lights and went upstairs.

  A few minutes later, I crawled between cool, soft sheets and sank into my down pillows. “Thank You, Lord. For everything.”

  With a smile on my lips, I closed my eyes.

  I sat up, heart pounding, and glanced at my alarm. Only six o’clock. A scream pierced the air, and a crash reverberated through the house. What in the world? I jumped up and raced across the room, flinging the door open. I raced down the first flight of stairs and headed down the hall, flying past startled seniors with their heads stuck out their doors. I bolted down the next flight of stairs and tripped on the bottom step, almost losing my balance.

  A black-and-white streak disappeared down the foyer and into the great hall. Buster thundered after it, barking fiercely. My feet hit the bottom stair and skidded off. I landed on my behind, just as Sarah ran by, her screams as loud as Buster’s barks. Mabel appeared in the kitchen doorway, her eyes wide.

  I jumped up and ran to the great hall. The cat crouched on the mantel, snarling down at Buster, while Sarah, who’d grabbed Buster’s collar, hung on to keep him from trying to climb up after the offender.

  “Sarah!” I shouted to make myself heard over the snarls and barks. “How did that cat get in here?”

  She whipped around. “Oh, did we wake you up?”

  “Uh, yeah.”

  She looked down at my feet. “You’re barefoot.”

  I put my hands on my hips and tapped my foot. “Did you bring the cat inside?”

  “Yes…and no.”

  “Explain, please.”

  She scrunched her face up as though in deep thought. “I was playing with Fluffy and a ball of string out in the front yard. When I came in, I guess I must have accidentally let the string hang down, and Fluffy followed me inside, trying to grab it.”

  “Oh, so you really didn’t mean to use the string as bait to get the cat in the house?” I glared.

  “Well, okay. I thought it might be fun to see what Buster would do.” She smiled sweetly and gave me an oh-so-innocent look. “I’m sorry. I never meant for them to make so much noise and wake you up.”

  “You know what? You remind me of a boy I used to know. His name was Benjamin. One day he painted my dog and put him on top of the preacher’s toolshed. But of course, he didn’t mean any harm either.”

  “Oh.” Her eyes widened. “Was it Mr. Grant? That Benjamin?”

  I could tell she was impressed instead of thinking it was awful, so what was I to do?

  “Yeah, that’s the one. Okay, you hang onto Buster, and I’ll see if I can get Fluffy out of here.”

  I walked over to the fireplace and eyed the cat. By now, he’d stretched out on the mantel and was busy licking his fur. I reached over and laid my hand on his back. He just looked at me, so I picked him up and carried him out, Buster’s furious barks following us all the way to the back door.

  I deposited him on Mrs. Miller’s front lawn and went back inside. “Okay, Sarah. Do you think you can put Buster in the backyard without him taking off after the cat again?”

  “Sure, all I have to do is put his leash on and hang onto it.” Which she proceeded to do.

  Mabel eyed me. “Better get dressed before you catch a cold running around in your pajamas and bare feet.”

  I grinned. “I guess I’d better. I haven’t showered yet either.” I headed for the stairs.

  “Miss Victoria.”

  I turned. Sarah stood in the kitchen doorway, uncertainty written on her face.

  “Back home, my best friend’s name is Victoria. I called her Torey.” She blinked her eyes, fast. “Is it okay if I call you Miss Torey?”

  I inhaled sharply, then swallowed. “Sweetheart, I’d be honored.”

  She grinned. “Okay, I gotta go catch the bus. Bye, Miss Torey.”

  My heart swelled inside me as she grabbed her backpack and ran out the back door.

  Mabel turned and smiled. “She really likes you.”

  “Yeah, she does, doesn’t she?” With a light step, I climbed the two flights of stairs to my room. Why in the world was I so happy just because a child seemed to like me? Oh, I didn’t have time to think about that now. But, whatever the reason, it was a great feeling.

  As I stepped out of the shower, the phone rang.

  “Miss Storm? This is Trudy Newton, Johannsen’s assistant.”

  “Yes, Miss Newton?”

  “The professor has finished translating your documents and can see you in his office at two o’clock this afternoon, if that’s convenient for you.”

  “Yes, that’s quite convenient. I’ll be there.”

  Excitement clutched at my stomach as I dressed and went downstairs. This day might prove to be as wonderful as the day before. It was certainly starting out that way.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Breakfast was over, and the seniors were getting ready to head out to the center for bingo and fellowship. I glanced around, my eyes resting on Miss Jane. “Anyone want to go to Springfield with me today?”

  Miss Jane’s face turned pink. “I promised to have lunch with someone at the center.”

  “Oh, okay.” Hmm. Miss Jane wasn’t one to blush. Now what was going on?

  Miss Georgina spoke up. “I’ll go with you.”

  I looked at her in surprise. She seldom went anywhere without Miss Jane.

  “Great. My appointment isn’t until two. We’ll have lunch first.”

  “If you want to, we could take one loop around Silver Dollar City. They open at ten today, so we’d have plenty of time.”

  “I’d love it. Sounds like fun.”

  An hour later we were on the road to Branson. “It’s a perfect day for it. I’m so glad the sun is out.”

  “Me, too.” Her face glowed with excitement. I was happy it had worked out this way. Miss Jane and I often took offon little adventures together, and before Miss Evalina was married, the two of us occasionally went somewhere. But this was a first-time jaunt for Miss Georgina and me.

  We arrived on the outskirts of Branson, passed a little café with a sign that always made me drool.

  “Look, Miss Georgina. They have Italian beef sandwiches. We need to stop there sometime.”

  She giggled. “You say that every time we pass it. By the time we head back out of town, we’re so stuffed no one even thinks about food.”

  “Yeah. I know.” I drove down the wide highway into town, admiring the hills and valleys until we came to our turnoff to Silver Dollar City.

  “Oh look, Victoria. They have the autumn decorations all around the sign.”

  Corn shocks and pump
kins adorned the grass around the Silver Dollar City sign, as well as other fall ornamentation. Childhood memories always came flooding back when I reached this point. Grandma and Grandpa brought me here often when I was a child, and many times, Benjamin came with us.

  “Wow, it looks great, doesn’t it?” The parking areas weren’t very full this early in the day, so we got a spot near the tram and trolley stop and walked the few steps.

  “Here comes a trolley now. We won’t need to wait.”

  She was right. The trolley did its U-turn and stopped in front of us.

  The driver tipped his green cap as we climbed aboard and sat in the open vehicle. “Good morning, ladies. Looks like you’re the only ones riding this trip.”

  The wind, which hadn’t seemed cold while we were standing, whipped against us as the trolley drove the short distance to the park. I cupped my hands over my ears to shield them.

  Five minutes later we arrived at the entrance.

  We went through the open ticket booths where Miss Georgina presented her season pass to a lady in a long pioneer-type dress, and I paid my one-day admission fee and went through the revolving gate.

  Inside the park, I stopped and closed my eyes, inhaling deeply of wood smoke, cinnamon, and barbecue.

  Miss Georgina giggled. “You do the same thing I do. That first smell when you walk in just can’t be matched.”

  I sighed. “Thanks for suggesting this. I wanted to come all summer but didn’t have the time.”

  “I know. But sometimes you need to make the time for things you enjoy. Nothing relaxes me like this place.” She frowned. “And it has nothing to do with Cedric Benoit, as much as I love him and his band.”

  “I’m sorry you get teased so much about that.”

  She shook her head. “They don’t mean anything. It’s all in fun.”

  Bless her forgiving, loving heart.

  We walked quickly through the large store, which was actually the gateway to the park itself. I enjoyed browsing through the Silver Dollar City merchandise when I had the time, but we’d have to skip it today.

  We exclaimed over the Christmas trees in Christmas Hollow and stopped at several open shops along the way, examining homemade candles, trinkets, and confections.

  Nostalgia washed over me as I smelled popcorn when we drew near to the kettle-corn stand. Benjamin’s favorite. I bought a bag to take home for him.

  We walked over the bridge with the sound of a ghost rider, and further on enjoyed a waterwheel, turning in the stream.

  As we turned the corner by the Dockside Theater where The Cajun Connection performed, my mouth watered at the aroma of BBQ beef and pork. The open café across from the theater drew us, and we lunched on BBQ sandwiches.

  My eyes closed as I took the first delicious bite. “Yummy.”

  Miss Georgina giggled. “Me, too.”

  I glanced across the rustic wooden table. “Do you have any idea what’s going on with Miss Jane?” I asked.

  She darted a quick glance at me and swallowed. “What do you mean?”

  “Now Miss Georgina, come on. You know very well what I mean.” I grinned. “First of all, Miss Jane never passes up an opportunity to go to Springfield. And she blushed rather obviously when she spoke of her lunch date.”

  Miss Georgina waved a napkin in front of her face. I should have felt guilty, but since the seniors insisted on making my business theirs, it didn’t bother me a bit to dig Miss Jane’s secret from Miss Georgina’s head.

  “Oh, all right. I’ll tell you.” She cast an accusing glance at me as if I were forcing the information out of her. “Jane has been talking to Harvey Samson.”

  “The bakery guy?”

  “Yes, he’s the owner of Samson’s Bakery. Inherited it from his father years ago.”

  “Is he a nice man?” The only thing I knew about him was that his donuts were wonderful. When they were fresh.

  “Of course he’s nice. Jane wouldn’t be talking to him otherwise.” She frowned. “And don’t get any ideas. They are good friends, like Martin and me. That’s all.”

  I nodded. “Okay. It’s nice to have friends.”

  I bit into my sandwich and waited. I could see Miss Georgina had something right on the tip of her tongue. If I was patient, she’d blurt it out.

  Pink washed over her face. “I’ve accepted a date to the movies and dinner with Martin. Don’t you think a double date with Jane and Harvey would be fun?”

  I coughed to cover the laugh that exploded from my throat. “Yes, ma’am. Benjamin and I double date with Phoebe and Corky a lot.”

  She nodded. “Exactly.”

  We talked about other possible places they could go for their double date while we finished our lunch, then headed across to the Dockside just as the music started.

  I sat entranced during the show, as I always did. Miss Georgina wasn’t the only one of our gang who enjoyed The Cajun Connection. I missed some of the former members of the band who had moved on to other things, but as long as Cedric was around—with his “bring down the house” voice, great Cajun music, and that magical accordion—I’d be a fan forever.

  We made it to Johannsen’s office at two o’clock sharp. I introduced Miss Georgina before we were seated.

  Professor peered over the top of his half-lens glasses at me for a moment before he spoke. “Miss Storm, have you any idea what you have in your possession?”

  “I have some suspicions, that’s all. Why don’t you tell me?”

  “I’m not exactly sure. But these documents would appear to indicate smuggling activities during and shortly after World War II. Does that surprise you?”

  “No, sir. Not really.”

  He looked at me for a moment, then took a deep breath. “Very well. Whatever you know about this, if anything, you’ve apparently decided not to share with me. And that’s within your rights of course. I have a special interest in anything related to Germany during this time period. You see, I’m Jewish, and my parents emigrated from that country in the thirties.

  I took the envelope he held across to me. “I see. Professor Johannsen, I promise if I find a story associated with these papers that I feel would be of interest to you, I’ll share it. But I’ll tell you this much now—the documents might very well lead to a crime against your people. And if it’s possible to bring even one of the perpetrators to justice, that has to come before personal considerations.”

  He smiled. “On that, we are in agreement. Thank you for your promise.”

  “And thank you for translating. How much is your fee, by the way?”

  “For this? Nothing. Find the criminals, if they still live. That will be more than enough payment.”

  I hesitated a moment, then reached into the envelope. Rifling through, I took out the ones that were in German and handed them back to him. “Here, I have another copy of these. And the translation is what I really need anyway.”

  Almost reverently, he reached for the documents. “Miss Storm, I don’t know how to thank you.”

  “No need.” I shook his hand, and Miss Georgina and I left his office.

  We drove back to Cedar Chapel in silence, each lost in our own thoughts. At least I was. I suspected Miss Georgina was dozing.

  We got back to the lodge around three thirty. The seniors’ vehicles were in the garage.

  “Let’s wait until after dinner to get everyone together in the parlor. Then we’ll look at these papers together.”

  If Miss Aggie was still missing, I’d have torn into them before we left Springfield, on the slim chance there might be a lead. But now that she was safe and sound, I wanted all the seniors to share the moment.

  I locked the envelope in the file cabinet in my office, then went upstairs to straighten my room. I’d only had time to do a quick run through the guests’ rooms before we’d left this morning, so mine had been ignored. Most of the seniors did their own light housework, but I still tried to do a quick check every day.

  The phone rang. “Cedar Lo
dge.”

  “Hi, honey.” Benjamin’s voice was tinged with regret. “I’m sorry. I won’t be able to come to dinner after all.”

  “Oh Benjamin.”

  “I know, honey. But I have too much work piled up.”

  “Humph. Didn’t your wonderful secretary do anything while you were away?”

  “Funny thing. They said she hasn’t been here since I’ve been gone. Hasn’t even called.”

  “Maybe she only wants to work when you’re around.”

  “Now Vickie. Don’t start up.”

  I laughed. “Just kidding. Maybe, with her mother gone, I’d better check on her in the morning, in case she’s sick.”

  “That’d be nice of you.”

  “Will do. Good night, Ben.”

  I made my bed and did a quick cleanup in the bathroom, then sat in Grandma’s rocker and picked up my Bible. I’d been so busy I’d gotten several days behind in my daily reading. I started with a passage in Numbers, which was the Old Testament reading from my guide. Halfway through, the old familiar guilt hit me. I realized I was trying to hurry through it.

  “Lord, forgive me, and please show me that Numbers is a living part of Your Word, too.”

  I continued to the end of the passage, expecting a sudden revelation from God, but nothing jumped out at me. The New Testament reading was in Galatians, one of my favorite epistles. By the time I laid my Bible down on the table and spent a few minutes in prayer, it was time to go downstairs and help Miss Jane carry the food into the dining room.

  We gathered in the parlor after dinner. Frank started a fire to dispel the slight chill in the room. The smell of burning logs and crackle of the fire brought warmth, not only physically but emotionally.

  I found myself almost reluctant to read the letters and other documents. What if, as it seemed possible, Jack Riley was implicated? How could I tell Phoebe? And would she ever forgive me for being the one to expose him?

  I glanced around at my friends, Grandma and Grandpa’s friends. How would I ever manage when they were gone?

  I handed the envelope to Miss Evalina. “Would you read them, please?”

  “Yes, of course.” She gave me a sympathetic smile, and I knew she understood my sudden hesitancy. The dear woman probably knew me better than anyone, now that my grandparents were gone. Even better than Benjamin. She reached in and took out the documents.