Murder Under the Covered Bridge (21 page)

twenty-five

Francine left Frost &
Associates with almost as many questions as she'd had going in, but she knew what her next move was. She needed to get hold of Jonathan and tell him of her change in plans. She called him on the cell phone. “Did you check out Warm Memories?” she asked.

“I did, and you were right about someone stopping by to see Belinda before she died.”

“I was pretty sure. Where are you?”

“I'm headed for Zedediah Matthew's place, as you requested. I'll be there in about ten minutes.”

“Good. Change in plans. Now I'm going to meet you there. We can search it together.”

“What about Mary Ruth's Fabulous Sweet Shoppe?”

“I'll stop by and clear it with them, but I think they'll want me to go. I just inherited Zed's ranch.”

“You
what
?”

“I'm as mystified by it as you. Wait for me by the driveway. I'm on my way.”

Francine had no problem convincing Mary Ruth that she needed to go to Zed's ranch instead of staying to help, which surprised her. The line was longer than the previous day, and Mary Ruth seemed as frazzled as ever when she told Francine she was pretty sure they'd be out of food. Again. Plus, Marcy had learned that not only would Food Network be there, it was possible Robert Irvine might also. They just had no idea when it would happen. Marcy bustled about, tweeting photos of the crowd and assuring Mary Ruth that as long as she held back some corn fritter donuts to fry for Robert, they were fine.

The rumor that Robert Irvine might appear worked in her favor in dealing with Charlotte. Charlotte was beside herself with excitement, and she was only mildly interested in where Francine was going. Francine simply assured Charlotte she'd tell her everything when she got back, and that seemed to placate her. But Francine hadn't defined
everything
in her own mind yet.

Jonathan was leaning against his truck when she pulled up in the driveway at Zedediah Matthew's property. He walked up as she put the car in park. When she got out, he pulled her close into a hug.

“Are you okay?”

“I'm very, very puzzled. But I'm fine. We just need to do some exploration.”

They walked warily up the driveway. Both of them felt spooked a bit. As they approached the turn before it cut toward the house, Francine saw that the arch that identified the property as Matthew's ranch had burned. The sign lay a few feet off the gravel driveway. She went over to it.

Something was different about the sign. She had interpreted the sign to have said
Matthew 1844 Ranch
, but now that she could see it up close, she could see the lettering had been doctored. It was intended to be
Matthew 13:44 Ranch
. She fingered the lettering that was burned into the wooden sign. “Look at this, Jonathan.”

“What is Matthew 13:44?” he asked.

“I don't know offhand, but if Zed's sometimes on/sometimes off cell phone booster is working, I could look it up with my Bible app.” She was getting a signal, so she looked it up quickly. “It's the parable of the man who found a great treasure buried in a field, and went off and sold all he had to obtain it.”

“That jibes with the idea that Doc Wheat buried his fortune here.”

“But Zed kept using the word
treasure
, not
fortune
. And the carving we found on the bridge that had the same graphic as the diaries had, ‘you are to mine' written under it. Now that I think about it, one doesn't
mine
fortune, but one could
mine
a treasure. Sort of. I'm sure it all means something, I'm just not sure what.”

They left the sign and walked to where the burnt out bones of the house lay in a heap on the ground, yellow crime scene tape squaring off and preserving what remained. Francine was more interested in seeing the greenhouse, which hadn't been touched by the fire. She dragged Jonathan back there. While he perused the plants, she went to the back hoping the
off-road
vehicle she'd seen was still there. It was, in the back corner with a tarp thrown over it. She uncovered it. Fortunately, the key was in it. She satisfied herself that the key was too big to fit in the tiny box's lock, and anyway, what kind of sense would it have made if it had? She hailed Jonathan over. “Do you know how to ride one of these things?”

He threw one leg over the seat. “Hop on and let's find out. Where do you want to go?”

She climbed on behind him. “Merlina mentioned the rolling hills like it was a clue of some kind. And last night when I read the history of Parke County William was writing, it made reference to a location on this land in the hills.”

“Do you know where they are?”

“From William's description, I would guess that since the woods are in front of us, and I know where the cornfields are, the hills are between them. Can you get through the woods?”

“Only if there's a trail of some kind.”

“Let's find out.”

Jonathan drove out of the back of the greenhouse and skirted the edge of the woods until he found a narrow path that looked passable. Once they got a little farther into the woods, the path broadened and became more
hard-packed
. He took them through the woods at a higher speed until, some fifteen minutes later, they burst out of the trees and into a meadow. Beyond it was the beginning of another forest, but unlike the flat terrain they just left, this forest rose on a gentle incline.

“Would you call that a gently rolling hill?” she asked him.

“It could be.”

Jonathan sped across the meadow, slowing as they went into the new forest. This time the path was not hidden. He followed it until it pulled up on the top of one of the ridges. Below them was a canyon, not deep, but lush with growth. At the rounded end, in a grotto, a small geyser started up and sprayed water widely into the air. It covered the immediate area, sprinkling drops over all the plants, but not a lot on any of them. A copper basin sat next to the geyser collecting whatever water came its way. There was a long pause of several minutes before the mini geyser went off again. Then it went dormant.

The sun shone through a clearing above them into the canyon. Francine examined the trees surrounding the clearing. They were either barren of leaves or in varying stages of color. The green growth below stood in direct contrast. “How do we get down there?” she asked, getting off the ATV. She had no idea what to make of the contrast.

Jonathan followed her off the vehicle. Together they paced the ridge. “I feel like there must be an easy way down,” he said, taking her by the hand. “Look on that side.” He pointed to his left into the canyon. “Doesn't that look like a path?”

Francine knew what he meant. The other side of the canyon dropped away quickly, but this side, after an initial drop, smoothed out and seemed to wind gently down to the grotto. She traced what she could make of the trail toward the top. It seemed to lead to a space not far from them, a space marked by a stand of five trees. They stood like sentries blocking the way, like they'd been planted there some time ago. In contrast to the deciduous trees of the forest, these were spruces, evergreens.

Jonathan was a few steps ahead. He pushed through the branches, his arms flailing in an attempt to deflect the limbs from snapping back toward him. He disappeared from view.

Before Francine had a chance to worry he'd fallen, she heard him. “There's a rope and chain ladder on the backside,” he called. He reappeared on her side of the trees and held back branches for her. “It's only five steps down the ladder. Not easy, I think, especially the last step, but it's doable.”

Francine wasn't thrilled when she saw the makeshift ladder. It was not stable. Thick black chains anchored into side of the canyon served as steps. The rope could be grasped as a handrail. She would have to back down the ladder, trusting that her feet would make the next step without being able to see it. The last step, as Jonathan said, was a steep one. “I'll let you go first,” she said.

Jonathan didn't hesitate. He grabbed onto the rope handrail with both hands and lowered himself step by step to the bottom. “Just go slow,” he reassured her. “I'll help you on the last step, but your legs are long. You'll be fine.”

She didn't breathe until she was on solid ground, but as Jonathan predicted, she was able to step off. “I don't know how I'll get back up, but now that we're here, let's search the grounds.”

Once they reached the bottom of the canyon, she could see that the copper basin drained into a funnel. Under the funnel she expected to find a mason jar, one exactly like she'd seen in Zed's greenhouse and in the trunk of William's car. But there was nothing there.

“It's the water,” she said.

“Yes, but what
about
the water?” Jonathan asked.

The little geyser went off. Francine stuck her hand in the spray. “It's warm, almost to the point of being hot.”

Jonathan did the same thing. “I didn't think there were any mineral springs in this area. I associate that with southern Indiana, like down around French Lick.”

“Not so,” she replied. “Montezuma had hot springs. A sanitarium and hotel was built on one until the place burned down in the 1930s. And we had Cartersburg in Hendricks County too. Didn't you have that in your Leadership Hendricks County class? I know I did.”

“You're right. I remember it now.” He looked at the green growth that had grown up around the stream. “But I didn't know about Montezuma.”

The geyser had stopped, but then it started up again. Francine knelt so she could get closer to the funnel that came out of the copper bowl. She cupped her hand and waited until she had gathered enough in her palm to have a sample. She brought her hand to her nose and sniffed. Then she used her tongue to taste the few remaining drops.

“Francine, don't! You don't know what could be in that water.”

She had already assessed the risk and had decided to test it anyway. Her eyes closed, she ran her tongue around in her mouth. At first she felt the warmth of the water, and then the taste she expected was there. “This has that exact same metallic taste that was in the tea and
date-nut
bread Zed served me.”

“I still don't think you should taste any more of it until we can have it analyzed.”

Francine stood up and wiped her hand on her jeans. “I agree. Too bad we didn't bring a container.”

They were silent for a few moments. Francine studied the beauty of the impossibly green valley. “What do you think it means?” she asked Jonathan.

He shook his head. “I don't know. Let's follow the reach of the spray and see how far it goes.”

The answer was only a short distance. Within a few hundred feet they could no longer feel the geyser when it went off. The plants were brown and dried up. Even a stream that came out of the ground and trickled to the right into a wooded area didn't revive the lush growth. Here, autumn returned. Leaves that had fallen from neighboring trees drifted in the water as it meandered out of the canyon toward an unknown destination. Francine thought it likely to be Big Raccoon Creek.

Francine had only worn a lightweight jacket, and without the sun, she felt chilled. “Let's go back.”

They returned to the grotto. Francine studied the plants. “These are the same varieties that Zed has in the greenhouse. I'd bet money on it. I remember that some were familiar, but there were a few I didn't recognize. Zed told me they were native species.”

“Do you think it's the heat of the water that keeps them alive?”

Francine briefly wondered about everyone's obsession with the water itself, but then dismissed it. “Possibly. Or maybe it's the unique position here.” She pointed to the sun directly in front of them. “They have unblocked southern exposure. Unless the wind is directly out of the south, they're protected from the weather by the narrowness of the canyon.”

“Surely they die at some point during the year. It gets too cold in Indiana, and snow's going to be whipped in here and blanket the canyon no matter how protected it is.”

Francine couldn't argue with Jonathan's logic. “I guess that's why Zed has the greenhouse.” She began to trek back toward the
all-terrain
vehicle. “I'd like to come back here and get a sample of the water. Maybe not today, but soon. I want to know what's in it, and why Zed served us tea that I'm certain was made from this.”

When they got to the top, Jonathan went ahead of her and helped her up past the pine trees. He drove slower on the way back. Francine was grateful, although she was certain her hair must still be a mess from the quick drive there.

They parked the vehicle in the greenhouse, put the tarp over it, and arranged everything so it looked like it had when they arrived.

“There,” Jonathan said. “When the owner comes back, they won't know we were here. Oh, wait. You are the owner.”

She put her arm around him and pulled him close. “
We
are the owners. Don't think you're going to get out of this one. What's mine is yours. For whatever reason, this property is now ours.”

Francine felt a buzz in her pocket and discovered she'd missed a phone call while they were gone. The grotto must have been out of range of the wandering signal. It was from Mary Ruth. Francine returned the call.

“We're out of food, and Robert Irvine had a flight delay, so he if comes in, it won't be until four o'clock. Alice and I are heading back to the house to make some more scones, cookies, and of course, the corn fritter donut dough to have ready, just in case. Joy and Toby are off recording
B-roll
. Can you come back and keep Charlotte busy?”