Jill Elizabeth Nelson (18 page)

“Hold on there.” Rich held up a palm. “I'm skimming ahead, and it looks like Hannah helped herself to a slice of revenge, and your grandfather aided and abetted.”

Nicole sat back, eyes wide. “That helpless-looking dumpling put one over on her abusers? Go on. I can hardly wait to hear.”

“‘At first, I was so stunned,'” Rich resumed reading, “‘I could only stand there with my dead child in my arms. Then I realized I could tell no one in this household what had happened. Even if they believed that Fern had done this in her sleep, they would pretend they didn't and make sure all blame fell on me. I couldn't let them get away with another mockery of justice, another cruelty, so I thought of a plan. Me. All by myself. But I couldn't carry it out alone.

“‘My thoughts turned to a friend from high school, someone who had always shown me kindness. I hadn't seen him often after he graduated, only when he was home summers from college and worked part-time as a bank teller. Now he was back with a full-time job as a loan officer—a rising
star with his degree, married and poised to start a normal family. Oh, how I envied him. Why I thought it would be a good idea to involve someone like that in a project that could wreck his life, I don't know. But I was desperate, and Frank was one of the few people in town who was unimpressed by the founding family and unafraid of their influence.'”

Nicole clapped her hands together. “Bravo for Grandpa.”

Rich chuckled. “The cop in me has to disapprove of what these two did, but the regular guy is cheering.”

“Well, get to the punch line, already. Read the rest.”

“‘I wrapped my Sammy in yard goods from Jan Keller's shop that I'd recently purchased to make myself a dress,'” Rich read on. “‘Then I hid his little body in the chest in my room and let the others discover him missing in the morning. During all the fuss, I gave a note to our cook, Goody Hanson, to take to Frank at his place of work. Goody had no idea what was in the sealed envelope, but I'd always had the impression she suspected the truth, and that I had a secret ally. At that moment, I was willing to take a chance that I was right.

“‘Goody served Frank and I well as go-between, though we kept her out of the loop when we laid Sammy to rest under Frank's roses in the middle of a fall night and when we collected the ransom. I chose the amount because my innocence was stolen in 1957 when I was eighteen years old—thus $5,718,000. Over time, Frank used his banking expertise to slip every dime of that money to charities as anonymous donations. Hardworking people in the area got the chance to own property at a reasonable price, and the Elling fortune was distributed to the needy.

“‘In only one item did we deviate from my original desires. I had wanted to bury my son in the garden behind my house, where I could be near him all the time, but Frank
said no. We had a gardener then. Frank feared the remains would be found. At least, if we put Sammy beneath Frank's lawn, the spot would be secure and faithfully tended. I acquiesced, and now I wish I hadn't.

“‘Sammy's remains have come to light after all and cast an undeserved shadow over the Keller family. I can only beg you to forgive me, Nicole. I know you will give this letter to the proper authorities, and your family will be exonerated of kidnapping and murder, though some may sit in judgment on the legalities of what we did to serve justice on Simon and his father. Forgive me also for putting that trash bag in your car. In my agitation and eagerness to do what I could to nudge the truth into light, my action made things worse for your family.

“‘No one need concern themselves with punishing me. I am punishing myself.

“‘Be well, be happy, dear Nicole. I wish the best for your grandmother also. I am not a good person like Frank, so I don't suppose I will see him where I'm going. Don't give me another thought. My time is over. Live out yours to the fullest, and never be afraid, as I was, to speak up for the truth and stand for what is right.'”

Rich folded the letter. “‘Signed, Hannah.'”

Nicole hung her head. All the mysteries were solved. All the questions answered. She should be filled with joy that her grandfather would not be known to posterity as a baby killer or an adulterer, though some might judge his collaboration with Hannah. The letter of the law condemned their actions. But what about justice? A bittersweet sorrow enveloped her spirit. Her conservative grandfather was a bigger risk-taker than she'd ever dreamed, and poor, brave Hannah was a far better woman than she knew.

Please, God, let me have the chance to tell her so. And
to assure my grandmother that her husband was faithful to her until death.

Without a word, Rich wrapped an arm around Nicole's shoulder, and she welcomed his solid comfort.

 

Two weeks later, Nicole sat at her grandmother's hospital bedside reading from the Ellington newspaper, heart overflowing with thanksgiving. Grandma had awakened permanently from her coma a few days ago. Her speech might be a bit slurred, her walk halting and her coordination a little off, but physical therapy was already helping bring back function. Tomorrow Grandma could come home, sad about her shop, but willing to try a new business after the reconstruction.

“What was that you just said, dear?” Grandma lifted her bandaged head from the pillow. Her eyes were bright and alert. “I thought you were reading the news report from the last city council meeting, and I could grab a little snooze.”

Nicole laughed. “Yeah, this move of the city officials is kind of startling, isn't it? I'll read the paragraph again. ‘The city manager reported to the council regarding his research on the procedure to change the town's name. A motion was made and seconded to begin the process. The motion was unanimously carried. City residents will be given an opportunity for input on choosing the new name.' Awesome, yes?” Nicole grinned at her grandmother.

“How low the mighty have fallen when their own town doesn't want their name.” Grandma tsk-tsked. “Is there any more in that paper about the town heroes?”

“Who?”

Grandma sniffed. “You and Rich, of course.”

“Oh, Grandma!”

“Don't deny it, young lady. You survived abduction and
a murder attempt. That Melody and her accomplice, Terry, are headed for long stints in prison, along with that no-good Simon. And, to top it off, you and that handsome police chief of yours solved a half-century-old kidnapping and murder case.”

“Rich is not
my
handsome police chief.”

“Ah-ha! You admit he's good looking.” Grandma wagged a finger at Nicole. “I think he's sweet on you.”

Nicole scrubbed a hand over her face. “Grandma, nobody says ‘sweet on' anymore.”

“Semantics, shamantics.” Nicole's grandmother sniffed. “Have you finally realized you were born to be a cop's wife?”

Nicole's face warmed. “It's a little premature to be planning a wedding.”

“Who's planning a wedding?” Rich's voice came from the doorway.

Nicole turned his direction, skin flaming. “Grandma's indulging in idle speculation.”

“Nothing idle about it.” The older woman chuckled. “Grandmothers know these things.”

Rich laughed and brought his arm from behind his back. An abundance of roses filled his hand.

“What a lovely bouquet,” Grandma said.

“Two bouquets. One for you.” Rich stepped into the room and placed an arrangement on the overbed table by Grandma's bed then turned and extended the other bouquet toward Nicole.

Pulse skipping, she took the offering and smelled the fragrance of the yellow roses, so like her grandfather's favorites from his garden.

“Told you he likes you.” Her grandmother chortled.

“Thank you,” Nicole told Rich. “I like you, too. Just a little.” She quirked a small smile.

He grinned that scrumptious grin of his, and Nicole's insides did twirls. “That's a good start,” he said.

“Given a little time,” Nicole said primly, “I might decide that receiving flowers from you should become a tradition.”

“Since crime in Ellington has been reduced to jaywalking, I've got plenty of time on my hands.” He winked at her.

Everyone laughed.

Nicole sobered. “I'm so glad Hannah survived. How is she doing?”

Rich's grin faded. “She spent three days under evaluation in a mental-health facility, but they gave her the green light to be released into outpatient care, poodle skirt and all. Her sister, Fern, didn't fare so well. She lost it completely when she found out the last of the Ellings were going to prison. No one's even told her yet that she killed Samuel. Somewhere deep inside, I suspect she knows. She's been committed indefinitely, which is a measure of justice. There isn't enough hard evidence to take to a murder trial, even though DNA testing has confirmed Samuel's proper parentage. Hannah's now the sole occupant of the house on the hill.”

“That poor woman,” Grandma Jan said. “What consequences will she face for that fake kidnapping scam on the Ellings?”

“None.” Rich spread his hands. “The statute of limitations expired on the offense long ago.”

Nicole looked from Rich to her grandmother. Why did Grandma look so troubled? “You think she should be punished?”

“I'm the one who deserves consequences.” Grandma slowly shook her head. “Decades back, I found that letter from Hannah to my husband and leaped to a conclusion
without talking to a soul. I thought I was being noble to quietly forgive my husband and move on with our lives. The truth is I was embarrassed. Humiliated. It was easier to sweep the matter under the rug and bear a grudge against Hannah. That was wrong. May God forgive me.”

Nicole grasped her grandmother's hand. “He has, you know.”

“I know. But when I get back on my feet, I'm going over to see Hannah. Someone needs to tell that dear lady about the grace and mercy that's available to her, too.”

“I'll help you with that.”

“Count me in,” Rich said, stepping forward.

Smiling, Nicole took his hand. Her fingers felt so right in his. Rich grasped her grandmother's other hand. Deep peace spread warmth through Nicole's insides. Their little ring of faith felt like a true family—a place of belonging, safety and hope.

Five Months Later

N
icole scooped up twin handfuls of snow in her grandmother's backyard and molded the wet mounds into a single tight ball. “Hey, sweetie!” she called.

Rich turned from positioning the carrot nose in the snowman they'd been putting together this bright Saturday afternoon early in December. Snorting a laugh, Nicole fired her missile. The snowball splatted on the front of his jacket. Roaring, Rich charged for Nicole. She whirled with a shriek and ran, but not fast enough. A big body knocked her flat into the snow. Chill crystals sprayed into her face. Her high shrieks of laughter mingled with his rumbled chuckles as they wrestled. Rich came out on top, and she let him steal a kiss. Then he rolled away, still laughing. They lay on their backs next to each other, puffing out smoky breaths.

“Good thing your grandmother is Christmas shopping with her friends,” Rich said, “or she'd be standing on the deck scolding us for acting like kids.”

“Right before she chucked a snowball at us.” Nicole giggled. “Can you see that crew of hers? A half dozen spry little old ladies swooping through the mall. Darlene stomping around with her cane, marshaling the troops like
a general. Grandma making lists and checking things off. And Hannah—”

“Now there's the biggest surprise. Nowadays, she looks like the most normal in the bunch.”

“She likes jeans and T-shirts almost as much as I do.” Nicole pursed her lips. “Sometimes I kind of miss her crinolines and dancing slippers.”

“I can't say I do. I'm glad she gave herself permission to join us in the twenty-first century.”

Nicole rolled onto her side and mentally admired the handsome galoot sprawled beside her. These months of getting to know one another since solving the crime of last century had been so precious. “Laying her little Sammy to rest in a proper burial spot was the best therapy she could have received.”

“No arguments there.” Rich rose, grunting.

Nicole took his outstretched glove and let him help her to her feet. They dusted snow off themselves.

“Let's finish Mr. Snowman,” Nicole said.

They returned to shaping and patting, chattering lightly about their day. Nicole was abuzz about the orders streaming into the shop. “And Grandma is having no end of fun designing new logos. I don't even have to tell her ‘I told you so.' She says so herself every day.”

“What an awesome God we serve.” Rich grinned. “How things have turned around so quickly. You might be interested to know that the accountants and attorneys have wrapped up the combined IRS-law-enforcement investigation into the Elling finances. That bunch has been lying, cheating and stealing for years, just to keep their heads above water in that mausoleum of theirs.”

“The authorities are going to release Hannah's money then?” Nicole's heart leaped.

“That's right. Major Christmas present for her.”

Nicole smoothed the snowman's plump belly. Earlier in the investigation, a hidden trust fund had been uncovered with Hannah's name on it—a substantial sum set aside by her parents before their deaths. She'd been well off since she was a teenager and hadn't known it. Another kindness for which she could thank her sister, Fern, the executor of her parents' will. It must have grated the Ellings every minute of every day that they couldn't get their hands on all that money moldering in the bank.

“What is that evil grin about?” Rich asked as he fit a stick arm into one side of the snowman's body.

“I'm always tickled when the underdog gets the last laugh.” Nicole wrapped a knitted scarf around the snowman's neck. “Now what shall we name this guy? Mr. Snowman doesn't quite cut it.”

“How about Parson Brown?”

Nicole stared up at Rich. The intensity of his gaze warmed Nicole's skin. “Parson Brown? I don't know any pastors in the area by that na— Oh, you mean like in the song, ‘Winter Wonderland'?”

“You catch on quickly.” His gloved hand dipped into his jacket and came out holding a square box. He held it toward Nicole.

Big-eyed and breathless, she stared down at the plump box covered in blue velvet. “Is that—” She halted on a dry mouth then licked her lips and swallowed. “Is that what I think it is?”

Rich flipped it open. A diamond on a gold band glittered back at her. “I love you, Nicole Mattson. I was hoping later on this evening we could conspire by the fire. Make some ‘I do' plans.”

Pulse thundering in her ears, Nicole averted her eyes from the hot hope in his. Finger by finger, she pulled off her glove. Her bare hand trembled as she held it toward him.

Rich tucked his hand under his arm and pulled it free of his glove. His fingers were warm and gentle as he slipped the ring on her finger then clasped her hand in his.

Nicole lifted her head, lips parted. His mouth lowered to hers, and she received the kiss with all her heart.