“Where did they come from?”
“I asked her that, and she just changed the subject. But the name J. Compton Collier is on the flyleaf of every single one of them.”
“What? Did you tell Bradley?”
“I sure did. He said he’d send somebody over for the books tomorrow afternoon about two and asked me to be there to unlock the place.” Shana’s voice broke a little. “I may have been the last person to see Marlo Howard alive. How creepy is that?”
****
Sam called at two in the morning, only an hour after Penelope finally crawled into bed. “Talk to me,” he said.
“About what? You blessed woke me up!”
“Sorry, and you know about what.”
Penelope recounted the day, beginning with Josh’s encounter with the shovel and ending with the discovery of Marlo Howard’s body.
“Uh-huh. I was afraid of that. Is there anymore?”
She told him about the books.
“Books? Where are they?”
“At the library. Brad’s going to send someone over for them tomorrow.”
The silence stretched out so long Penelope wondered if Sam had hung up. “Sam?”
“I’m still here. Look, I’ll be there by breakfast.”
“It’s Sunday. Eight o’clock and not a minute before. I’ll go to late Mass.”
“Right. See you, Nell.” He hung up.
See you, Nell. That’s the problem, Sam, you don’t see me. Me. The person. Just another conquest, and I’m blessed tired of it. You can just turn in your key this time and find somewhere else to crash. She lay back and closed her eyes. Why do I care so much? I wish I didn’t. I wish…I wish…
****
Sam didn’t turn up for breakfast. After Mass, Jake said he was going to take a nap. Penelope started upstairs with the same idea in mind when someone pounded on the back door. Shana’s frightened face beyond the glass boded ill for the whole situation.
“They’re gone,” Shana said as she stumbled inside. “The books are gone. I made myself go to church this morning, and then I decided to work at the library until somebody came for the books. I left a lot just hanging yesterday. Anyway, I went through the back and turned on the library computer at the main desk, and then I happened to glance underneath where I’d shoved the books, and they were gone. Just gone.”
“Did you call Bradley?”
“I didn’t have to. He showed up almost at the same time.”
“What did he say?”
“Not much, but he’s not too happy about the books being gone.”
“I guess he’s not.” Penelope brought Shana a soft drink. “Want a sandwich?”
“No, thanks. I’ve lost my appetite.”
“It wasn’t your fault.”
“That’s what Rosabel said. She was with him.”
“Well, believe her then.”
“Brad checked for any signs of a break-in, but he couldn’t find anything. And I’m the only one with a key.”
“Are you sure?”
“Well, I guess Mayor Hargrove has one, but why would he take the books? He didn’t know about them anyway.”
“That’s true.”
Shana got up with effort. “I’m going home. I’m going to lock the door and crawl as far back under the bed as I can, and maybe the dust bunnies will devour me before tomorrow.”
“Good luck with that.”
Penelope watched Shana get into her car and drive away. Old art books belonging to Jessie Ruth’s husband. I’ll bet money Marlo got them from that Louie…Lewis Collier, the nephew. They’re involved art-wise if nothing else. Now she’s dead, the books are missing, and so are the Bancroft portraits at Pembroke Point. And so is Sam. He was supposed to be here by breakfast and… Penelope grabbed the back of the chair for support. He was here all right. Sam was here, and he took those blessed books…and I hope he chokes on their dust! She stalked out of the kitchen toward the stairs.
On the landing, familiar arms went around her. “Hello, Nell.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
“Sam, you devil, what did you do with those books?”
He cut her off with a long kiss. “I don’t know anything about any books.”
“The heck you don’t!”
“Well, then, that’s for me to know.”
“And me to find out.”
His face hardened. “Leave it alone, Nell, I mean it.” He pulled her down beside him on the top step. “Promise me.”
“Why should I?”
“Because I asked you to.” He took her face in his hands. “Please.”
Her heart seemed to skip a beat. “I’ll think about it.”
“Anything else going on I should know about?”
“I thought you knew everything.”
“Almost but not quite.”
“I’ve told you everything.”
He kissed her again. “Okay. I’ve got to shove off again.”
“Now? Right now?”
He rose, pulling her up with him. “Sorry, Nell, that’s just the way it is. Stay away from the school, and forget about those books.” He kissed her again and went downstairs without looking back.
****
Josh came back the weekend after Tulip Turnaround, saying he intended to finish what he’d started. Mary Lynn told Penelope that Bradley said the basement was no longer officially a crime scene and gave the go-ahead for the work to be completed. Peter showed up with Shana and Tabby, who ran outside to the swings saying Jessie Ruth was waiting for her there.
“Somebody’s there all right,” Penelope said, observing the swing next to Tabby’s moving back and forth in perfect rhythm. “I’d think Peter would want to keep Tabby as far away from here as possible.”
“He does, but he talked to a child psychologist who recommended bringing her here and seeing what happened.” Shana peered out the window. “And it’s happening.”
Mary Lynn turned her back. “I don’t even want to watch.”
For two hours, the sounds of the men at work in the basement and the sight of Tabby playing happily with her so-called ‘friend’ set the women’s nerves on edge. Finally, a long silence followed by a series of clanks and groans announced that the boiler was working again. Penelope felt an odd sense of relief and foreboding when Peter came upstairs and called out the back door to Tabby, who came running.
“Hi, Daddy. I’ve been playing with Jessie Ruth.”
“Your pretend friend,” Peter said.
“No, Daddy, she’s my real friend. She said she had to go home, but she said to tell you not to go down in the basement.”
“Did she say why?”
Tabby shook her head. “It’s a bad place.”
Penelope leaned down. “Why is it a bad place, Tabby?”
“It’s got a secret, a real bad one.”
“But she didn’t tell you what it was?” Penelope pursued.
“Nope.”
Harry’s entrance put an end to the conversation. “I made a reservation at the steak house in the strip mall,” he announced. “I’m taking all of you to lunch.”
Josh emerged from the basement, this time unscathed. “Lunch? Steak?”
“Anything you want,” Harry said with a magnanimous sweep of his hand. “We owe you.”
Josh laughed. “I already told you I wasn’t going to sue the city for what your resident ghosts did.”
“Little pitchers,” Penelope warned.
Tabby giggled. “There’s no such thing as ghosts. Mrs. Rodriquez says so.”
“Mrs. Rodriquez is exactly right,” Penelope said. “Let’s go eat.”
She stopped by the B&B for Jake. “Harry said he was picking up the tab,” she said.
“I never turn down a free meal.”
“That’s what I told him.”
“So everything’s working now?”
“It was when we left.”
“Hope you locked the door. ‘Course, old Jeremiah probably doesn’t use doors.”
Jake laughed at his own humor. “Well, he doesn’t.”
****
When Mike and Millie showed up, Harry invited them to join the party and drug two more chairs to the long table. “So you fixed things up at the school?” Mike asked Josh. “Know anything about fireplaces?”
“Some.”
“We’ve got an old one at the Sit-n-Swill that two people, including Peter here, have said is in perfect working order, but it doesn’t work.”
“What does it do?”
“Sometimes it lights, and sometimes it doesn’t. If it does, it burns awhile, then flares up, showers everybody with sparks, and sputters out like a child who’s been scolded and sent to his room.”
“You forgot to mention it wails like a banshee,” Penelope said.
Mike glared at her.
Josh laughed. “I’ll take a look at it after lunch.”
“I’ll be glad to pay you for a service call,” Mike offered.
“Nah, I’m already here. Might as well look.”
****
Harry went back to City Hall after lunch, and Mary Lynn announced she was too full and needed a nap. Jake said he did, too. The rest of the party drove across town to the Sit-n-Swill. Tabby walked around the bar for a few minutes before she tugged on Shana’s jacket. “Jessie Ruth said she used to live here.”
Penelope hunkered down in front of the child. “When did she say that, Tabby?”
“Just now. She’s over there.” Tabby pointed to the wall where several picures of the school’s various classes hung in a trapezoidal arrangement. Peter’s eyes went icy but softened as Tabby crossed the room to stand beside him. “Daddy, did you know Jessie Ruth used to live here?”
“I didn’t know that, sweetheart.”
“She did, but it burned down, and so they had to go somewhere else.”
Shana caught Tabby’s hand. “Let’s go outside and look around, okay?”
Josh shook his head and grunted something that sounded like “Better watch my back then,” and squatted down in front of the fireplace from which Mike had removed the logs.
“Mary Lynn told me about Tabby and Jessie Ruth,” Millie said. “Spooky.”
“You got any tools?” Josh called.
“I’ve got every tool known to man,” Mike said. “What do you want?”
“A crowbar.”
“Why?”
“Just get it.”
A quarter of an hour later, the flat stones lining the bottom of the fireplace had been removed. Penelope, Mike, and Millie peered over Josh’s shoulder into a perfect three-foot square hole. It wasn’t empty.
****
Bradley had gone to Little Rock, the dispatcher informed Penelope, but she’d send Parnell Garrett. He arrived almost before the phone connection had been broken. “Please tell me you didn’t find more bones,” he said.
“I don’t think so,” Penelope said, “but what’s down there looks like it might be connected to the bones in the boiler room.”
“You didn’t touch anything, did you?”
Josh shook his head. “Just looked.”
“Okay, now I’ll look.” Parnell squatted down beside Josh. “You just lifted these hearthstones out?”
“That’s all.”
“You got a big plastic garbage bag or something?” Parnell asked Millie.
“In the back. I’ll get it.”
Shana, forewarned by Peter, took Tabby back to her apartment, but the rest watched Parnell lay out the contents of the hole: a pair of rotted trousers, a belt, a leather wallet, a pocket watch on a tarnished chain, and a pair of twisted gold-rimmed spectacles. Parnell took the flashlight off his belt and held it inside the hole. “If somebody tried to burn this stuff, they didn’t do a very good job of it.”
He went out to his patrol car and returned with a camera. “I’ll get some pictures.”
“No bones?” Penelope asked.
“Nope, but I’d say somebody tried to get rid of whatever used to walk around on those bones we found under the boiler.”
Millie gagged. “Dear Lord!”
“That can’t be what’s wrong with the fireplace,” Mike said, irritation in his voice. “You can’t tell me the blasted thing is haunted.”
“I’m not telling you anything, Mr. Dancer,” Parnell said.
Josh stood up and wiped his hands on his jeans. “Me neither. But I’m willing to go out on a limb and say that if you fired up this thing now, it would burn.”
Mike stared at him. “It would, huh?”
Josh shrugged. “Just a guess. Give it a try sometime, and let me know.” He slid the stones back into place over the hole. “Maybe I’ll stop by for a beer next time I’m out this way.”
“It’ll be on the house,” Mike said.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Bradley and Rosabel came by after supper with the latest news. “Vincent Ives’ name was engraved inside the cover of the pocket watch. And a date—June 10, 1888. The spectacles match the ones he was wearing in the picture you gave me.”
“Which I want back,” Penelope said.
“You’ll get it back. The wallet had a train ticket in it. One way to Atlanta, Georgia, dated June 30, 1894. And a baggage claim check. Looks like he’d already checked his things.”
“You think he was leaving?” Jake asked.
“Looks that way.”
“So the bag went on to Atlanta, and somebody disposed of everything left.”
“And him,” Jake added.
“But who?” Penelope asked.
“We’ll never know, Mother,” Bradley said.
“Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned,” Rosabel said, showing her dimples. “Maybe Daisy did him in because he was leaving her.”
“She looks small in the picture. Even if she’d smacked him with that shovel, somebody else had to put him in the basement.” Penelope glanced at Jake. “Jeremiah?”
He shrugged.
“And then Daisy hid his clothes and later tried to burn them,” Penelope said. “Josh said he’d lay odds the fireplace would work now.”
Almost on cue, the telephone rang. It was Mike Dancer. “I thought I’d let you know I lit a fire after all of you left, and it’s still burning. Almost purring like an old cat.” Disgust dripped from his words. “Craziest thing I ever saw.”
Penelope handed the phone to Bradley. “This is Sergeant Pembroke. Oh, hi, Mr. Dancer.” He began to shake his head as he listened. “I don’t know either, Mr. Dancer. No, I don’t believe in ghosts either. Right. Sure. Okay, thanks for calling. Good luck.” He handed the phone back to Penelope who hung it up. “I don’t believe in ghosts, Mother.”
“Your grandmother Pembroke used to say the spirits of the early Pembrokes lived in that house, but she always laughed after she said it. I don’t think she believed it, and I never encountered any while I lived there.”
Bradley stood up and held out his hand to Rosabel. “I better take you home to change if you have to relieve Parnell at nine.”
“A pretty young gal doesn’t need to be out alone at night,” Jake said. “Needs to be home tending babies.”
“Oh, Daddy.”
Bradley nodded. “Sure, Pawpaw. Could happen.”
Rosabel kissed Jake’s cheek before she went hand-in-hand out the door with Bradley.
****
Penelope lay awake hoping Sam would call or, better still, that she’d hear the sound of gravel thrown against her window. Neither one happened.
When she finally fell asleep, she dreamed about a man standing behind an old-fashioned camera on a tripod, his head hidden under the black cloth attached to it. In his left hand he held an oblong container of the powder which would ignite and provide light for the exposure. When it flashed with a loud pop, she sat up in bed. “That’s it,” she said aloud. “That’s it.”
****
After breakfast, she told Jake she was going back to the archives in Little Rock. “A light went on
—literally.”
“I don’t think I’ll go there.”
“Listen, Daddy, don’t tell anyone where I’ve gone.”
“I’ll assume you have a good reason for the cloak and dagger act.”
“I think so.”
“Okay. Mum’s the word.”
“Thanks, Daddy.”
A slow grin spread over the man’s face. “Think Edgar left some secrets, do you?”
“How did you know?”
“It seems to me Edgar Ragsdale is the mystery man in this whole thing. Jeremiah Bowden is out at City Cemetery. Ditto Jessie Ruth and her mother. Vincent Ives’ bones will probably go there, too, eventually. Jessie Ruth’s husband is dead. That leaves Ragsdale.”
“And the nephew, Lewis Collier.”
“Last seen ten years ago at Jessie Ruth’s funeral.”
“You’re sure of that? Maybe I saw him at the Cupid Convention Ball.”
“Maybe so, but I think the light you saw is shining on Edgar Ragsdale.”
“I think any man who spent most of his life chronicling the life of a town would want to make sure his work survived.”
“It did, didn’t it? All those pictures…”
“Maybe he left more than pictures behind. He left his money, whatever there was of it, to Jessie Ruth for some odd reason. Maybe he left the reason to history. I’ve got to know, Daddy.”
“I expect you’ll find out then.”
“I probably won’t be back for lunch.”
“I’ll get something downtown.”
“Okay. Wish me luck then.”
Jake laid his hand on her arm. “Nellie, you know I always wish the best of everything for you.”
****
The same archivist who had been helpful before placed a shoebox-sized container on the table in front of Penelope and handed her a pair of white nylon gloves. “Please use these to handle everything, and if you need copies made, I’ll see what I can do.”
“This is all you have on Edgar Ragsdale?”
“No, I’ll pull some files for you, too. Newspaper articles and so on. But I think what’s in that box is going to be what you’re looking for.”
“Which is?”
“His journals. Six of them.”
Penelope’s heart sped up. “Do you know how the archives acquired them?”
The Stubborn Schoolhouse Spirit (The Penelope Pembroke Cozy Mystery Series) Page 17