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Authors: Susan Lyttek

Tags: #christian Fiction

Plundered Christmas (16 page)

BOOK: Plundered Christmas
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He looked at me just the tiniest smidgeon less doubtfully. “I may do that, ma'am. In the meantime, your children, like everyone else on this island are free to move about and do as they please. However, neither you nor they can leave. Is that clear?”

I agreed that it was.

The officer went back inside. I didn't follow him. The weather just demanded that I stay in its embrace.

Near where the kids were playing, were a couple of well-placed benches. I took the one more in the sun and sat. Only two things—more coffee and my husband's presence—could make this better. I was enjoying watching my kids play on a perfect day.

Someone tapped me on the shoulder and then extended a mug in front of my face. “I thought you could use your second cup of coffee,” James said.

I sighed deeply. “And do I get you, too?”

He came around and sat next to me. “Anytime, sweetheart. Anytime.”

He asked me about my interview as well as those of the kids. He groaned when I told him about the reaction to Josie. “Oh, well. God will make it work out,” he said. “It just would have been easier if we had some way to prove what her abilities were without a test.”

“We could always give them Dan's phone number,” I suggested. “She's certainly proved it to him time and time again.”

His assent was less than stellar. “Yes, but since he's a friend now they might not give it much credence. But we'll cross that line if and when we come to it.”

“Yes,” I said, sliding closer to him, while being careful not to spill a single drop of the lovingly prepared cup of sustenance. “Right now, let's enjoy this gift of perfect weather and a family together.”

He didn't say anything, but his arm around me tightened.

 

****

 

We had been resting in the sun for about a half an hour when Aimee came walking up the path. As far as I could tell, she was coming from the wading beach area.

She was carrying her shoes and her feet were still wet. At first, she looked puzzled to see us outside. Or maybe it's where we were sitting outside.

I don't know exactly.

“Have you seen Frank? I thought he was going to meet me for a walk.”

We told her that he was inside waiting for her. We also told her that he had no idea where she was.

“But he did get the electricity running,” I cheered to build up my brother in the eyes of his future spouse.

“He did?” Was it my imagination or did she actually look disappointed? “So everything's working inside now?”

I agreed that it was. With that, we said our awkward “see-you-later's” and she went into the manor.

I couldn't help wondering why she had been at the beach. Maybe she had just gone for a walk along the water. But alone? And in jeans? It didn't seem like she'd planned that part. What was Aimee up to? I liked the girl. She was sweet, she knew her Bible, and she'd stood up to her aunt. But we didn't know a lot about her. And with everything that was going on with the Banet family, it was that unknown that worried me.

 

 

 

 

 

10

 

Once I finished my cup of coffee, and our lovable bulldog was out of breath from the kids' exuberance, I decided it was time we go back into the manor, however briefly.

“We don't have to stay there,” I told Justin when I saw the look on his face. “But Jelly needs to rest for a bit and have his breakfast, and I need to return this cup to the kitchen.” And, I thought, things just stayed safer when we remained together as a family rather than having us going different directions.

As we walked past the original crime scene, or more likely, the victim retrieval scene, I looked at the cup in my hand and something dawned on me. I stopped suddenly and Jelly bumped his head into the back of my legs. Oh, well. A slobbered heel was a small price to pay for getting answers.

“Honey, when you and Frank came out to get William, did you pick up my coffee cup?”

He looked at me confused for a moment.

“Don't you remember? When I first stood over him, my mug was in the mud. I had dropped it out of surprise or fear or whatever that emotion is when you first find a corpse. I didn't pick it up because I forgot about it at that moment. But it's not there now. Someone picked it up.”

He looked at the ground and knelt down by the drying mud. “It was right here,” he said, pointing. “Right?”

I agreed.

“Now that you mentioned it, I remember seeing it when I came out at first and checked to see whether William was alive and hurt, or dead. But when Frank and I went back to carry in the body it wasn't there. I guess I assumed you got it.”

I hadn't. But obviously, someone had. “Why would someone come out and pick up my coffee cup?”

Something of the previous conversation I had overheard came back to me. “They had checked William for something he was supposed to have. Maybe they thought the coffee cup belonged to him? It was one of those fancy stay-hot cups with two layers separated by an air pocket. What if they thought he put something in between those layers?”

James stood up. “That, unfortunately, makes too much sense, my darling Mrs. Talbott. I'm definitely going to have to keep an eye on you.”

With that hanging over our heads, we entered the manor. Rather than stopping to talk to anyone, we took Jelly straight through to the kitchen. There, Juliana and Mrs. Schmidt were putting any leftovers worth keeping into the refrigerators and taking out anything that had not weathered the power outage.

We stationed Jelly in his designated corner with a food bowl filled in front of him, leaving his leash on and looped through a towel rack so that he wouldn't get in their way.

“So, how did the kitchen survive?”


Ach du lieben
! Not well, Mrs. Talbott, not well. We had a rack of lamb in here for Christmas Day which is totally spoiled. Do you know how much one of those things costs? I'd have to save up for a month to afford a good one like what we had here. But Mrs. Banet can suffer the loss without undue strain on her budget. Still, it seems like such a shame to throw away good food…” She leaned into one of the two oversized refrigerators again. “These were full when you all arrived. Full!”

I almost wished the power hadn't come back on until after we had left. “I am sorry, Frau Schmidt. I do hope us lodging Jelly here for a while won't bother you and Juliana.”

At the mention of his name, the good Frau backed out of the refrigerator, shut it firmly behind her and leaned over to pet Jelly before I could remind her about the slobber. But she didn't seem to mind.

“If I am ever put out or annoyed by such a good
hund
, I should renounce my German roots and solely call myself Mrs. Smith forever and ever.” She chucked him under the chin. I didn't think I'd ever seen anyone do that intentionally. Of course, after she got him wagging his tail with more enthusiasm than a kid has on Christmas Eve, she did walk over to the sink and give her hands a good thorough rub down with soap and water. “In fact,” she added. “He might be able to help me if you allow it. I'm told some bulldogs have an amazing nose. Is he one of those?”

I remembered Jelly following the deputy's trail from above ground last year in September.

But James answered. “He's well-trained, Mrs. Schmidt. What would you need him to do?”

“If he could sniff the meats in the refrigerator, so I know what to keep and what to throw? Would that be possible?”

I wasn't certain, but my guys were. “The hardest part, Mrs. Schmidt,” Justin said, “would be keeping him from eating what would be OK. He likes people food way too much. But after he finishes his breakfast, he won't be too hungry. That would probably be the best time.”

So my guys and Frau Schmidt arranged Jelly's work schedule for the morning. Then they and Josie left the kitchen.

“I need to ask this wonderful woman something,” I told them. “Wait for me by the benches.”

The kids nodded.

James gave my hand a squeeze as he left.

“What did you want to know, Mrs. Talbott?” She busied herself in the refrigerator again, looking at Jelly occasionally to see if he had finished his kibble and water yet.

“Yesterday morning, before I found William, I had taken one of those thermal coffee cups with me. I wondered, did it make it back into the kitchen? I don't know where it disappeared to.” I looked over on the counter, but didn't see anything. “And remember, my name's Jeanine.”

The woman turned over her shoulder to look for the girl who quietly and methodically worked in the other refrigerator. “Juliana, can you open that cupboard for Mrs. Talbott?”

The girl closed her set of metal doors and scurried to the other side of the kitchen. There, she opened the top cupboard. She had to stretch, and I didn't think she would reach it.

I followed.

“No, ma'am,” she said, barely audible. “One space is still missing. Your cup is still gone.”

I stood on my tiptoes and double-checked. “Could it still be in the dishwasher?”

“Now, why, Miss Jeanine, would we have put anything in the dishwasher when the power was out? No, if it's not there, we don't have it,” Frau Schmidt insisted.

“I am sorry about that then. I promise to keep a lookout for it.” I would, even if I didn't promise. It was one of those strange things that still didn't fit in with the recent events. I had a feeling if I found that cup, details would start putting themselves together.

She waved away my concern. “There are nineteen mugs that match the one you lost. We don't have enough people staying here right now to make that a concern. Don't worry about it.”

I thanked her and Juliana and promised I'd be back to take Jelly for a decent walk in about two hours.

“We should be done with his nose by then,” said Frau Schmidt.

I hoped so. Lunch wouldn't be too far beyond that time.

As I started out the door to the great hall, I remembered one more thing. “By the way, which of you made the yummy apple cider last night?”

“Apple cider?” Mrs. Schmidt looked confused. “No one made apple cider in this kitchen last night.”

“But how could that be?” I wondered. “Several of us drank a cup before bed. It was hot, had a good amount of cinnamon and cloves… ”

“I know how to make apple cider, Miss Jeanine. I'm just saying we didn't.” She seemed to be getting perturbed at the very idea so I backed down.

“I'm sorry to ask. Maybe someone just made it over the fire and didn't tell us. I didn't intend to accuse you of anything. It was good, and I wanted to thank who made it. And since you're such an amazing cook… ”

“You assumed it came from me. Understandable.” The rising ire dropped out of her face and it looked soft and motherly again.

I gave Jelly a quick pet and told him to be a ‘good dog' for Frau Schmidt, then I went out to catch up with the rest of my family.

But I had to wonder, if she didn't make it, and she swore it didn't come from her kitchen, where did it come from and why?

 

****

 

Having an inkling of what my crew would want to do once I got outside, I stopped by the room that held our luggage, pulled out my book and fished through it for my tracing. At first, I couldn't find it, and I panicked that someone took it, too. But then I held the book by its spine and fluttered the pages to make the map come out. Secure that it was indeed what I drew when I heard the frightening conversation, I gave it another fold so it would fit in my jeans pocket and left the jacket behind. With the warmer weather, I didn't need it anymore.

When I came out to the bench area, none of the other three were sitting down. Rather, they were using Justin's very small ball to play three-way catch. Seeing that, I knew they were all stir-crazy. Half the time, especially if the sun was behind the little ball, you couldn't even see it.

“All right everyone. Jelly's working in the kitchen. Your Papa is sleeping, as is Miss Margo. I thought I saw Frank and Aimee by the pool. The officials are investigating all the details of William's death. I believe Mary is in with them right now. So what should we Talbotts do?”

James caught the ball and pocketed it. “I think I know. Did you, by chance, go back to our room?”

I nodded.

“Then,” he said, taking my hand. “We are following a map.”

Justin and Josie jumped up and down enthusiastically, then came over by our sides, Josie next to her dad and Justin next to me.

“We're going on a treasure hunt!” Justin shouted before I could get my hand over his mouth.

“Sweetheart, someone else wants to find the places on the map, too, so I wouldn't broadcast it.”

James started walking and essentially pulled us all with him. “It would be better if we were farther away from the house to talk about all this. We don't know who took the original map from your mom last night while we slept, but we have to assume that he or she wants to find out what the stars mark as well. So far, they're both letters, or journal entries, by Anne of Banet Island, who's presumably Anne Bonny.”

Justin tried to pull away from me. “Someone took Mom's map? Why didn't anyone tell us this? This could be important.”

James let go of my hand briefly to lightly bop Justin on the back of his head. “What do you think we are doing? Talking to the sand?”

Justin pulled ahead a little and walked backwards so as to look at his father. “No-o-o. I just didn't know.” Far be it for my boy to apologize unless he has seriously goofed up. This didn't qualify as serious. “So then how are we going to find anything?”

Justin was left hanging until James thought we were far enough away from the house and away from the majority of palm trees and shrubs that could hide someone. He wanted to make certain that we were alone. “OK, gang. Let's find a dry area to sit and look over the copy Mom made for us.”

BOOK: Plundered Christmas
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