A Thousand Generations

by Traci DePree

  Lucas crossed his arms over his chest as a blue jay darted from a nearby tree and perched on one of the many birdfeeders that were dotted across the front yard. It squawked at another smaller bird until it flew away, then took over feasting on the black sunflower seeds.

  “Did you ever hear of Hanlon’s Boutique?” Kate ventured.

  Lucas scratched his chin. “It was a store here in Copper Mill?”

  Kate nodded.

  “I seem to recall it. It was a few blocks over from my dad’s store.”

  “Did you know the Hanlons?”

  Lucas shook his head. “Sorry, no. The name’s familiar but that’s all.”

  “Do you remember hearing anything about someone seen bringing canvas bags into the boutique?” Kate watched his face, but the expression there was blank.

  His brow furrowed.

  “Can’t say as I remember that,” he admitted. “If you want to learn more,” he added after a long pause, “that banker guy...what was his name?” He snapped his fingers as he tried to recall. “Anyway, he wrote a book about Jack Leonetti.”

  “Simmonds?” Kate ventured, offering the name of the author whose book she’d perused at the historical society. “You mean Roy Simmonds, who wrote a book on Leonetti?”

  “Yep, that’s the name,” he said. “Simmonds had something to do with it.”

  “Why do you think that?”

  “Because Jack Leonetti mentioned him by name when he came to my dad’s store, before the bank robbery.”

  “But how would Jack have known who Simmonds was before the robbery ever happened?” Kate asked, her mind tumbling with the implications of his assertion.

  “Exactly,” Lucas said.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The scent of grilled chicken and green peppers drifted on the air that evening as Kate set the small table for two on the back patio. Paul wore his Kiss the Cook apron as he fussed over the food on the charcoal barbecue.

  “So what does that mean?” Paul asked. They’d been talking about Roy Simmonds and Lucas Wilcox’s assertion that Leonetti knew the banker before the robbery. “Do you think Simmonds knew Grandpa Horace too?”

  “I haven’t seen anything to indicate that,” Kate said.

  “The truth is,” Paul said, “it’s looking more likely that Grandpa may have had something to do with the robbery, especially since someone was seen bringing bags of money into the boutique.”

  “The article didn’t say it was money,” Kate reminded. “Just canvas bags, and it’s purely speculation.”

  “What else could it have been?” Paul asked.

  It had crossed Kate’s mind, of course, that if the bags had been brought, the money could have been moved into the mannequin for safekeeping.

  “That’s what we need to find out,” Kate said. She filled two glasses with ice and Coke, then set the two-liter bottle on the table.

  Paul sighed and flipped the chicken breasts over on the grill.

  “What’s wrong?” Kate asked, picking up on his sigh.

  He didn’t answer immediately, but when he did, Kate heard the hesitation in his voice.

  “I heard from a couple members of the church board,” he said simply.

  “And?” She stopped what she was doing and turned to face him. “What are they saying?” Kate asked, worry edging into her mind as she recalled Renee’s warning about the gossip making its way around town.

  “Eli called Sam Gorman, apparently, and said that Phillip was the one who stole his mannequin.” Kate couldn’t believe her ears. “He said that if the church was going to support someone like Phillip, he wanted to withdraw his membership.”

  Kate was stunned that Eli would make such a drastic move. And yet she hurt for him too—and for Phillip.

  “This could damage the church,” she said. “If people start taking sides...”

  Paul nodded, and his lips formed a grim line. “The board wants to meet with me about it.”

  He shrugged and straightened to face her.

  “Do you want me to stop helping Phillip at the store?”

  “We can’t do that to Phillip,” he said. “He’s already hurting as it is.”

  “But we can’t let it hurt the church either.”

  “I don’t think it will, Katie,” he said. “We both want Phillip’s name to be cleared, but we also want the truth. Just like we want to find out the truth about my grandfather, even if it isn’t what we want to hear.”

  “But we didn’t bargain for any of this affecting the church.”

  “God’s going to take care of Faith Briar,” Paul assured her. “I’m confident of that. We need to support Phillip, regardless of what others say or whether Eli leaves the church. I hope he doesn’t, but that’s his decision. And as for what my grandfather did or didn’t do all those years ago, that’s got nothing to do with what’s going on right now.”

  KATE HAD BARELY FINISHED clearing the table when the phone in the kitchen started ringing. She hurried to grab it as Paul glanced at her from his post at the sink. His hands were covered in suds from washing dishes.

  “Mom,” Rebecca’s voice came on the line.

  “Honey,” Kate said. “How are you?”

  Kate heard a deflated sigh leave her daughter’s mouth, even through the phone.

  “Well,” Rebecca said jumping to the reason for her call, no doubt, “you know I had a bad feeling about Melody’s boyfriend?”

  “Yes...,” Kate said.

  “Tonight I was working at the restaurant, and in comes Todd with a girl...But it wasn’t Melody. I thought I’d give him the benefit of the doubt, you know?” She inhaled a ragged breath. “Maybe it was his sister or a cousin. So when he went to the bathroom, I stopped over at the table and talked to the girl.”

  “What did you say?” Kate asked.

  Paul turned to look at her, a curious expression on his face. Kate mouthed, I’ll tell you later. He shrugged and turned back to the soapy dishes.

  “I said, ‘Are you dating Todd?’ and she said yes. But before I had a chance to find out anything else, I saw him coming back. Thankfully he wasn’t sitting at one of my tables.”

  “Did you tell Melody?” Kate asked.

  “Of course I did. I’ve come to think of her as a friend,” Rebecca said. “I was trying to do the right thing, you know?” Her voice cracked, and Kate could tell that she was struggling to keep from crying.

  “And?” Kate prompted.

  “And she accused me of trying to break them up,” she said. “I can’t even believe that. She said that I was trying to steal Todd away from her, and that I was lying about the other girl...I feel absolutely horrible!”

  Kate smiled at her daughter’s words. Drama came naturally for Rebecca—both on and off the stage. Whenever she’d had heartbreak growing up, she would come to her mother crushed beyond repair, then within half an hour, she’d be all sunshine and smiles. It was one of the traits that Kate enjoyed best about Rebecca—her ability to feel, and care, deeply. It was a double-edged sword, though, as the situation with her friend now proved.

  “Maybe Melody just needs a little time,” Kate suggested.

  “I’ve tried calling her,” Rebecca said, “but she hangs up. And she won’t open the door when I stop by her apartment. I’m worried about what she’ll do, Mom. She seems so dependent on him...”

  “What do you mean?” Kate asked.

  “I’d just hate for something to happen to her.” Rebecca paused in thought. “Do you think I made a mistake in telling her?”

  “You know your friends better than I do, honey. Trust your instincts and pray about it. God will give you wisdom.”

  “You’re right, Mom.” Rebecca sounded renewed. “I’ve been taking everything into my own hands, but God knows the truth. And he knows exactly what to do.”

  As Rebecca spoke, Kate realized that Rebecca was just like her—the same intuitive sense, the same deep caring for people. Even the same curiosity that got her into trouble. Rebecca was carry
ing on Kate’s legacy!

  “So, what am I supposed to do?” Rebecca was saying.

  Kate thought for a moment, then told her daughter the same thing she told herself day after day. “You wait and pray and ask God for wisdom while you trust him to work everything out. He always does.”

  KATE NEEDED A DOSE of her own medicine, she realized at four thirty the next morning when she couldn’t sleep. So she got up to pray. She needed to seek God’s wisdom about what to do about Phillip and the situation with the church.

  She opened her Bible and read for a bit, then prayed.

  Finally she lifted her head and stretched, her mind drifting to the theft at Eli’s. The police had found no evidence that Phillip had the mannequin in his possession. She hadn’t heard if the sheriff had talked to Phillip about the note either, though he well could have.

  In any case, an arrest hadn’t resulted...yet.

  She still couldn’t believe that Phillip was the thief, but if he had taken the mannequin, could he have sold it the same morning it disappeared? That was possible, she realized. But in such a short amount of time?

  Phillip had hardly looked like a guilty man when she saw him. The image of him crying in the basement as he stared at Ginny’s windows returned. He’d been a broken man that day, not a conniving thief.

  Rising from her rocker, she quickly got dressed, jotted a note to Paul to let him know that she couldn’t sleep and was headed to Phillip’s shop, then climbed into her car and drove to Loving’s Antiques.

  Copper Mill was deep in slumber as Kate wove through its darkened streets. She glanced at the clock on her dash; it was five o’clock in the morning, a mere half hour before she normally got up. Parking in the rear and unlocking the door, Kate made her way inside. The broken glass had been replaced.

  She flicked on the light in the back room and looked around for any kind of clue that would help her determine what the note had meant.

  There were several boxes of goods to put out, mostly antique china and glassware. Kate bent to study the pieces but found nothing of significance there. The next box held tattered books. Kate picked up several, then noticed the same note she’d seen before taped to the cover of one title. Phillip’s handwriting was still legible, now with the addition of “$20” after the question mark. Kate lifted the note off the cover and read the book’s title: The Wooden Lady by J. Marks Duffy.

  Relief flooded her, then dread when she remembered she’d told the sheriff about the suspicious note.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Kate called the sheriff as soon as she got back home and left a message telling him of her mistake. The dispatcher had thanked her and said the sheriff would be in touch as soon as he came in for the day.

  She drove to the Copper Mill Public Library as soon as it was open in hopes of finding out more about Jack Leonetti and gang activity in the area in the 1930s, as well as any information she could gather on Roy Simmonds since she’d already gone through most of the information on the era at the historical society.

  She couldn’t take too much time because Phillip had asked her to help out again at the store to finish getting ready for the grand opening. She’d also wanted to get working on the stained-glass design for Phillip’s transom window that she’d finally drawn up. She hadn’t broached the subject of using one of Ginny’s pieces again. Instead, she’d decided she would do as he asked and make something new. If he chose not to use it in favor of something his wife had made, she’d be fine with that.

  Kate entered the library, then passed the maroon love seat near the front window on her way to the horseshoe-shaped circulation counter where Livvy was chatting with a local. Livvy smiled when her gaze met Kate’s.

  “Thanks, Mrs. Jenner, this ought to carry me till the weekend!” a gray-haired man said, picking up the stack of books he’d just checked out and scooting away.

  “Long time no see,” the auburn-haired librarian said, turning to Kate.

  Livvy lowered her voice so the library patrons wouldn’t be privy to their conversation. “How are you doing?”

  “I’m hanging in there,” Kate said, glad for a friend who cared about her.

  “So when does that new antiques shop open?” Livvy asked.

  “Tomorrow, hopefully,” Kate answered.

  “Hopefully? What do you mean?”

  “Plenty to do, and Phillip is wondering if anyone in town will darken his door with the bad press he’s been getting.”

  “I’m sorry,” Livvy said.

  Kate smiled at her appreciatively, then changed the subject. “Are any of the computers free?”

  “Take your pick,” she said.

  Kate was soon settled at one of the high-speed Internet computers in the upstairs media center.

  She typed in “Jack Leonetti” and waited while the search engine looked for links. Several articles popped up. The first spoke of Jack’s penchant for drama, something the Simmonds’ book had also implied about the man. As he exited every bank he robbed, he would bow like an actor leaving the stage and shout, “Bravisimo!”

  The article told of several bank robberies out east, all with that same calling card.

  The second article spoke of Leonetti’s demise. After a two-year break from robbing banks, he seemed to find the allure of quick money too hard to resist, so he and some associates planned another heist, this time in the small town of Adams–Friendship, Wisconsin. Somehow the local sheriff got word of their presence and was waiting for him. When Leonetti drew his gun, it was all over.

  The man never even had a trial, just a funeral and an unmarked grave on the outskirts of a town he’d never been to before.

  Kate typed in “Roy Simmonds,” hoping for some information on the man whom Rory Wilcox had said Leonetti had mentioned by name.

  Up popped a link to Amazon.com’s page for Simmonds’ book. She clicked on it only to see that it was someone looking to sell a used copy via the site’s secondhand option.

  She scrolled down the page and noticed another book for sale by Simmonds. But it was the title that made her sit back—Robbing Peter to Pay Paul: How Criminals Use Foreign Investments to Hide Their Wealth.

  Kate jotted down the title, then checked the electronic catalog to see if the library carried it, to no avail. She returned to Amazon to see about ordering a copy but it came back out of stock. Finally she signed off and returned downstairs. Livvy was still at the circulation desk, checking in books.

  “Can I see if it’s somehow possible to get this book?” Kate said, handing her the piece of paper.

  Livvy bent to read it. “That’s what I’m here for,” she said with a smile, typing on her keyboard and studying the screen. “Hmm,” she murmured. “Looks like it’s not in the system. I could interlibrary loan it, but that could take weeks if someone else has it checked out. Do you want me to?”

  “Sure,” Kate said.

  Livvy clicked around with her mouse and typed for a few minutes, then said, “You’re all set.”

  Kate thanked her, then said good-bye and headed off to the antiques store, her mind rolling through the implications of what the book’s title and Lucas Wilcox’s assertion meant. Namely that if Roy Simmonds had been in cahoots with Jack Leonetti, he very well could have stashed his take in some foreign bank. Or perhaps the men had connived with Horace Hanlon to smuggle the money in the hollow mannequins to accomplish that very thing.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Kate rushed to Loving’s Antiques from the library. She’d promised Phillip she’d be there by ten to help set up the counter-height glass display case where the checkout for the antiques store would be placed. He had found the case at a going-out-of-business sale for a store in Chattanooga. Shaped like a kidney bean, the display case had the right feel for the store, Phillip had said, and with two shelves, there was plenty of room for the vintage jewelry and small items it was destined to hold.

  When she came inside, she could see that Phillip was stressed about something. He fidgeted with the k
nobs on the case and kept running his hands through his hair nervously. “Give me your opinion,” he said, turning to Kate, his thumb and index fingers cradling his chin in thought. “Do you think we should move the case over there?” He pointed to the far side of the room, which was already arranged with furniture and knickknacks in all shapes and sizes.

  “Let’s leave it here for now,” Kate suggested. “We can always move it later if we decide we want to.”

  She reached for the Windex and sprayed the glass front, wiping it clean with a cloth Phillip had left on top.

  He nodded and disappeared into the back room, then returned with the box of China plates and saucers she’d seen in his office. He moved around the store, setting pieces here and there for display.

  “Are you okay?” she finally asked him.

  Phillip sighed and met her gaze.

  “What did you tell the sheriff?” he said, his expression betraying deep hurt.

  “Did he call?” Kate said.

  “This morning. He said something about a note you found...Kate, do you think I stole Eli’s mannequin?”

  “Phillip,” Kate began, not wanting her confession to hurt him. “I found a note on your desk that said something about getting an estimate on the wooden lady.”

  Phillip’s face relaxed into a smile as he realized what had happened. “And you thought the wooden lady was the mannequin.” He inhaled and laughed as he let out a breath. “The Wooden Lady is a book.”

  Kate shrugged. “I finally figured that out,” she said.

  “You could have asked me about it first, Kate. I didn’t take Eli’s mannequin,” he said.

  “I know that now, but I confess I’ve been having some doubts especially because of the watch,” she replied, relieved that he understood what had happened and wasn’t offended by her doubt.

  “Well, you’re going to have to trust me,” he said with a level gaze.

  “I do.”

  ONCE THEY RETURNED to the pace of the day, preparing the store for its opening the following morning, Kate and Phillip had all but forgotten the tension between them. Kate told him of her research at the library and about Simmonds’ second book.