“Did it seem odd to you that Mr. Pottage wanted a guard inside the house on that day? It seems like everyone who was invited was a friend or family member.”
“Not really.” Roger shrugged. “Mr. Pottage didn’t even want to have the christening. It seemed like he’d been concerned about a specific threat ever since the baby was born. Mrs. Pottage, however, insisted on the christening and even arranged for her out-of-town guests to arrive while her husband was away on business. When he came home early and found them in the house he was furious. I got the feeling that he felt threatened by one or more of the guests. He told all the guys at the gatehouse that neither Mrs. Pottage nor Baby Charles were to leave the estate unless accompanied by him. It was almost like he knew something was going to happen before it did.”
I frowned. I really was anxious to speak to Balthazar Pottage again. It looked like there were things going on he hadn’t shared with me. I wished I could make the trip before Monday, but Friday and Saturday were going to be busy at the bookstore and my mom would have a fit if I didn’t show up for dinner on Sunday.
“On the day of the christening, who went up to the second story of the house?”
“Just Mrs. Pottage. The nanny, a nice woman named Edith Cribbage, was upstairs the entire time. She never went downstairs until after Baby Charles was found to be missing and the deputy came and questioned everyone. Mrs. Pottage went upstairs to put Charles down for a nap and then went back upstairs a while later to check on him. I asked how the baby was doing and she said he was sleeping peacefully. When Mrs. Pottage returned a third time, maybe an hour later, the baby was missing. I know there are folks who assume the kidnapper must have gotten past me, but I swear to you, I never left my post.”
“What about Mr. Pottage? Did he go upstairs at all during the day?”
“No. Just the missus.”
I paused to consider the timeline. All of the guests were present during the christening. Shortly after the ceremony Belle took Charles upstairs for a nap. She came down a short time later to rejoin the party.
“Do you remember when Father Kilian left?” I asked.
“Shortly after the missus put the baby to bed. When she went back downstairs he said his good-byes and left.”
“And the mayor and his wife?”
“Shortly after the priest.”
“Did anyone else leave during that time span?” I wondered. Anyone who left prior to Belle going up to check on Charles the first time could be taken off the suspect list because he was still sleeping peacefully at that point.
“The catering lady. I know that because the cook brought me a plate after she took over. I don’t believe anyone else left before Mrs. Pottage went up to check on the baby for the first time.”
So everyone else could be the kidnapper. The problem was that no one seemed a likely candidate.
“Is there anything else you can remember that might help me?”
The man shrugged. “Nothing that comes to mind.”
“Okay, well, thank you for taking the time to speak to me. If you think of anything else will you call me?”
“The old geezer doesn’t deserve your help.”
“I know, but he’s promised to rescind the eviction notices that were issued for the Bayview Apartments and allow the residents to stay permanently if I help him find his son.”
Roger frowned. “Well, I guess that’s as good a reason as any to help the old man. If I think of anything I’ll call you.”
Chapter 8
“Can I have your attention?” I called as Cody, Tara, the kids from the St. Patrick’s children’s choir, and I gathered in the choir room for our first of two dress rehearsals. The kids were super amped up about the fact that they were able to wear the costumes they’d been assigned for the play, leading to an increased level of noise and activity.
“We have exactly six days until we’re scheduled to perform in front of all of your families and friends, so we need to be sure we get this right. I need you all to pay close attention to what Cody, Tara, and I tell you.”
“How come we can’t use a real baby for baby Jesus?” Trinity asked. She looked angelic in her cute white angel costume, but her whininess and cranky disposition that day had me thinking the role had been miscast.
“Because real babies cry and we wouldn’t want to have the play interrupted. Besides, I don’t think I know anyone with a baby small enough.”
“Maybe Destiny will have her baby early and we can use him,” Trinity insisted. “It’s going to look so fake if we have a baby Jesus that doesn’t even move.”
“I don’t think using Destiny’s baby is going to work out,” I answered. “She isn’t due until after Christmas.”
“Maybe we can ask Destiny if she can have the baby sooner.”
“It doesn’t work that way. The doll will be fine.”
“But if the baby is in the play she can’t give it away,” Trinity insisted.
Ah. I thought I’d just stumbled across the source of Trinity’s disagreeable disposition.
I knelt down so that we were face to face. “Are you worried about Destiny’s baby?”
“My mom said he might have to go to another family. I don’t want him to go. I want to be an aunt. I’ll be a good aunt. My mom said it’s going to be hard for Destiny to take care of a baby on her own, but I can help. I keep telling everyone I can help, but nobody is listening.”
“It’s frustrating when people don’t take you seriously,” I agreed.
“People shouldn’t give their kids away. It isn’t right.”
I took a deep breath. The situation was so very complicated and now wasn’t the right time to have this conversation with the eight-year-old.
“I can see that you’re very concerned about this,” I tried. “And I think that as the baby’s aunt you should definitely be able to talk about your feelings and concerns. I’m afraid that now isn’t the best time, though. Maybe you and I can go for ice cream this weekend and talk about the situation for as long as you want.”
Trinity hesitated.
“Maybe on Saturday. I plan to come to the church dinner and I know your mom will be bringing you as well. Maybe you and I can sneak away after.”
“Okay.” I could tell Trinity wasn’t totally sold on the idea, but she seemed to be willing to go along with it.
“So you’re okay for tonight?” I asked.
“Yeah. I’m okay.”
“Wonderful. Now hurry over and join the other angels.”
I stood up and looked at the list in my hand. “Okay, let’s get back to work. It seems the angels are set, so how about the barn animals? Matthew, did you ask your mom if we could use your dog?”
“She said it’s fine. We can dress him like a donkey, but she doesn’t want anyone to actually sit on him.”
“No, of course not.” Matthew’s dog was a well-behaved Great Dane that would make a fine donkey for Joseph, who was being played by Matthew, to lead to the manger.
“And what about using a couple of your dogs?” I asked Samantha. Her mom bred midsize terriers. They were fluffy and white and I figured they looked as close to sheep as we were likely to get.
“She said it will be fine to use them, but she does recommend that you keep them on leashes.”
“I planned to assign the shepherds to escort them in. Are there any questions?”
That, I should have realized, was the wrong thing to ask because almost everyone had a question and very few of them were relevant to the play. It took several minutes to answer everyone’s inquiry, but eventually we were ready to begin.
“Okay; we’re going to walk in a straight line down the hall and line up at the back of the stage. On the night of the play there’ll be a curtain that we’ll line up behind, but for now we’ll just pretend there’s a curtain. Annabelle and the angels will begin the first hymn as Joseph, Mary, and the donkey walk slowly onto the center of the stage. Joseph will say his lines and then continue on with Mary toward the opposite sid
e of the stage. The shepherds and their sheep will enter as the narrator sets the scene.”
Thankfully, everyone did as they were instructed, and other than the fact that a couple of the shepherds decided to engage in a wrestling match halfway through the reading of the birth of Christ, the rehearsal actually went pretty well.
“Okay, everyone, remember, we’ll be presenting our Christmas concert on Sunday during the regular Mass, we’ll have another dress rehearsal for the play on Tuesday, and the performance of the play will be on Wednesday evening,” I announced after the rehearsal was over. “We have two very important events to prepare for. It’s important that everyone shows up and everyone is on time. I have a sheet of instructions that I need each of you to give to your parents. Don’t forget.”
I let out a sigh of relief as the kids filed out to the reception area, where their parents were waiting. Maybe we’d get through this busy holiday season after all.
“That went well,” Tara said when she joined me near the piano, where I was assembling the sheet music we’d need for Sunday’s concert.
“Yeah. I think it went better than expected. I almost wish it hadn’t.”
“Why would you say that?”
“I just figure that if the rehearsals go too smoothly the actual performance is bound to be a disaster. We have over twenty kids participating. Something is sure to go wrong and I’d just as soon it happen at rehearsal and not on the night of the play.”
Tara laughed. “Look at you being the worrywart. That’s supposed to be my role.”
I smiled. “You’re right. What was I thinking?”
“I guess I should get home to Destiny.”
“I spoke to Trinity. She’s really upset about the fact that Destiny might give up her baby. She told me that she wants to be an aunt, and she doesn’t think moms should give away their babies. You and I know it’s a lot more complicated than that, but the poor thing is really sad. I told her I’d take her for ice cream on Saturday so we can talk about it, but I honestly have no idea what I’ll say to her. I almost feel like we should invite Destiny to come with us.”
“I wouldn’t do that,” Tara advised. “Just listen to what Trinity has to say and let her know you understand her concerns. I doubt there’s anything you can say that’s going to make this easier on her. Destiny has a hard choice to make, and whatever she decides to do, it’s going to affect a lot of people and she knows it. She’s stressed enough over the whole thing without throwing in the fact that her sister is so upset.”
“Yeah, you’re right. I’ll handle it the best I can. Thanks for the advice.”
Tara squeezed my arm. “I’m happy to help. Tomorrow should be busy at the store. You’ll be on time?”
“I will,” I promised.
“I figure this is our last big weekend before the holiday. We may as well try to make the best of it. I even hired a group of carolers to perform in front of the store when the ferry debarks, and Alex has agreed to play Santa on Friday and Saturday. He’s going to wear the costume the church rented for him to use at the dinner on Saturday night.”
“That’s a great idea. Alex really is working out well. I’m very grateful to Ebenezer for bringing him to us, although so far the silly cat hasn’t done a lot to help me figure out what happened to Charles Pottage.”
“He will.” Tara hugged me. “See you tomorrow, and remember, don’t be late.”
I finished sorting the music while I waited for Cody, who was in the reception area with the kids, waiting until each and every child was picked up. It seemed like every week there was at least one parent lagging, making us wait for them.
“Long day?” Cody asked when he was finished.
“Yeah. I think my brain is just exhausted from trying to figure out how Charles Pottage disappeared into thin air because as far as I can tell that’s exactly what happened. He was upstairs when he was taken and no one other than his mama went up or down the stairs. It makes no sense.”
“I agree, but something did happen to the baby, and unless he was abducted by aliens who beamed him up from his crib to their spaceship, I’m going to go out on a limb and say there’s an explanation even if we don’t see it right now.”
I frowned. “I hadn’t thought about the spaceship angle.”
“I was kidding,” Cody assured me.
“It’s an explanation that makes sense, though.”
“No, it doesn’t. I think I’d better feed you before you slip completely into delirium. How does Italian sound?”
“Perfect.”
Antonio’s was a local favorite. I was almost weaned on Antonio’s spaghetti and meatballs. My mouth began to water as we neared the brightly lit restaurant. I hadn’t stopped to think about it, but I realized I hadn’t paused to eat all day. The smell of garlic in the air was making my stomach rumble a bit more loudly than was appropriate.
“Oh, look, there’s Finn and Siobhan.” I waved to my sister. She gestured us over.
“We just sat down,” Siobhan said. “We haven’t ordered yet. Join us.”
I looked at Cody. He nodded, so I took the chair closest to Siobhan and Cody sat down across from me.
“How was rehearsal?” Siobhan asked.
Cody and I spent the next fifteen minutes filling her in on the good, the bad, and the downright ugly.
“I can’t wait for Wednesday,” Siobhan commented. “It sounds like it’s going to be adorable. I didn’t really do much to celebrate the holidays when I lived in Seattle. I find that I’m enjoying every little thing about the holiday this year. I even helped Maggie decorate her tree.”
“I’m so glad you’re home. I always felt bad that you weren’t with us after you moved away.”
The waitress came over to take our orders, effectively pausing the conversation. I had a hard time deciding because everything was so good but eventually decided on the lasagna.
“How’s everything in the land of local politics?” I asked after the waitress left to get our salads.
“Pretty good, although that developer who was all set to buy the Bayview Apartments land is pretty mad. He’s crying foul and insisting that you interfered in his business deal. He’s threatening all sorts of nasty things, but personally, I don’t think he has a leg to stand on. Still, I’d watch my back if I were you.”
I frowned. “I wasn’t trying to mess up his deal. I was just trying to save the building.”
“I know that and you know that, but this guy is a real jerk. He had an oral agreement to buy the land from Balthazar Pottage after he evicted the tenants and tore down the building, but as far as I can tell there was nothing in writing. The man is furious, but I don’t think he has any grounds to legally do anything about the fact that Pottage changed his mind. You should be aware that he’s most likely working on Pottage as we speak, and you don’t have anything in writing either. I’m just hoping the old guy will honor his commitment to you and not let the developer strong-arm him into changing his mind once again.”
“I guess I’d better wrap this thing up and get something in writing from Pottage before the developer gets in the middle of things.”
“Have you made any progress since we last spoke?” Finn asked.
“Not really.”
I spent the entire time we were eating our salad filling him in on everything I’d learned that day and the conclusions, or lack thereof, that I’d come to.
“I have to say I’m leaning toward Cody’s alien abduction theory,” I concluded as our entrées were set in front of us.
“Either someone is lying or maybe everyone is lying,” Finn commented. “Something happened to the child and I don’t think it was aliens.”
“Who do you still need to talk to?” Siobhan asked.
“Tripp Brimmer, Jane Partridge, who was working for the Pottages as a maid, Liza Bolton the cook, and Edith Cribbage the nanny. There were also some out-of-town friends and relatives I haven’t tried to track down. I hoped I could figure this out by simply interviewing t
he people who are available locally.”
“I have to agree with Finn,” Siobhan said. “Something happened to that baby. The fact that it seems impossible that he was taken from his room can only mean that one of the key players is lying.”
“Key players?” I asked.
“The nanny or the upstairs guard or both come to mind.”
“Yeah, it does seem likely that one or both were in on it. I guess I’ll just have to see what the nanny has to say.”
“I have a meeting with the sheriff tomorrow about a recent assault case; if you haven’t figured this out by next week I’ll make some time to help you,” Finn offered.
“Me too.” Siobhan nodded. “The island offices are closed for two weeks beginning on Monday.”
“Thanks, guys. I think I might end up needing everyone’s help with this one.”
Chapter 9
Friday, December 18
As promised, I was not only on time at work the following day but I was three minutes early. Yes, I realize three minutes doesn’t really earn me bragging rights, but given the fact that I’m almost always late, it felt like quite a victory.
Apparently, Tara thought so as well because she gave me a huge smile when I walked through the front door. It was obvious she had arrived much earlier than I; holiday music was playing in the background, the tree lights and the lights we’d strung around the store were all turned on, and there was coffee waiting for me on the counter.
“I have good news,” Tara informed me. “I stopped by that new restaurant in the harbor on my way home last night to pick up some takeout and realized the name of the woman who rang me up was Liza Bolton. I asked if she used to work for Balthazar Pottage and she said she had. I explained that you were trying to help locate his son and she said she’d be happy to stop by the bookstore today if we were willing to buy her a cup of coffee. So see, you can sleuth without even having to leave the building.”
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