Rest in Peace (25 page)

“Maybe she only wants to work when you’re around.”

“Now Vickie. Don’t start up.”

I laughed. “Just kidding. Maybe, with her mother gone, I’d better check on her in the morning, in case she’s sick.”

“That’d be nice of you.”

“Will do. Good night, Ben.”

I made my bed and did a quick cleanup in the bathroom, then sat in Grandma’s rocker and picked up my Bible. I’d been so busy I’d gotten several days behind in my daily reading. I started with a passage in Numbers, which was the Old Testament reading from my guide. Halfway through, the old familiar guilt hit me. I realized I was trying to hurry through it.

“Lord, forgive me, and please show me that Numbers is a living part of Your Word, too.”

I continued to the end of the passage, expecting a sudden revelation from God, but nothing jumped out at me. The New Testament reading was in Galatians, one of my favorite epistles. By the time I laid my Bible down on the table and spent a few minutes in prayer, it was time to go downstairs and help Miss Jane carry the food into the dining room.

We gathered in the parlor after dinner. Frank started a fire to dispel the slight chill in the room. The smell of burning logs and crackle of the fire brought warmth, not only physically but emotionally.

I found myself almost reluctant to read the letters and other documents. What if, as it seemed possible, Jack Riley was implicated? How could I tell Phoebe? And would she ever forgive me for being the one to expose him?

I glanced around at my friends, Grandma and Grandpa’s friends. How would I ever manage when they were gone?

I handed the envelope to Miss Evalina. “Would you read them, please?”

“Yes, of course.” She gave me a sympathetic smile, and I knew she understood my sudden hesitancy. The dear woman probably knew me better than anyone, now that my grandparents were gone. Even better than Benjamin. She reached in and took out the documents.

“It seems your professor has grouped the documents according to their content. Why don’t we start with the letters? Perhaps they will reveal the information you’re looking for.”

She took the first letter and read it aloud. A gasp from Miss Georgina spoke pretty well what I felt. The letters were written to Clyde from two different men in Germany. Apparently they worked for Jack Riley’s import/export company. Each letter contained instructions concerning shipments of merchandise being smuggled to Pennington House. The earlier ones mentioned Miss Aggie’s father. It became clear he had been receiving stolen property from Germany for several years before he died but thought he was dealing with legitimate merchandise. Forrest had caught on and brought Clyde in with him because of his knowledge of the language, as well as his almost idol worship of Forrest. They made a deal with the smugglers, who’d contacted those in charge in Germany. Clyde and Forrest became couriers, and after the elder Mr. Pennington died, they took over the illicit business.

“Victoria, you were wrong about Jack Riley. Listen to this.” As she continued to read, it was apparent that Jack Rileyknew nothing about the illegal actions of his employees, but they were sure he was starting to suspect something. There was a warning in two of the letters to be careful of Jack Riley.

Relief washed over me. I’d been wrong about Phoebe’s uncle. I wished I hadn’t wasted so much time suspecting him. Miss Evalina’s voice was a little hoarse, so I asked her if she would like for me to continue.

Frank looked at me. “Here, why don’t I take over?” When I nodded, he reached for the papers. “These appear to be bills of sale, as I mentioned before.”

He scanned one, then the other. “Yeah, they’re bills of sale and receipts for items purchased. Looks like they were copies of originals.”

Martin sat on the edge of his chair and snorted. “Will you get on with it? What are they for?”

Ignoring his friend, Frank allowed his eyes to roam over the page.

“Frank.” Miss Evalina got his attention.

“Nearly all jewels. A painting or two. Furs.” He whistled. “Listen to this. One choker-type emerald necklace. A large heart-shaped emerald on a gold chain. Two emerald bracelets. One set of emerald earrings.”

“The Pennington emeralds.” Miss Georgina’s awe-filled whisper was loud enough for all to hear.

I shivered. Who did they belong to? Where was their owner now? Visions of a gas chamber, stacked high with victims of the Holocaust, bombarded my mind. A pit, with men and boys standing at its edge, while black-clad men pointed rifles at their heads. Every picture I’d ever seen of these victims attacked my mind. The room started to spin.

“Victoria.”

“Wh–what? Oh, sorry.”

“It’s all right, dear. I thought for a moment you were going to hyperventilate.” Miss Evalina’s calm voice soothed me.

Miss Georgina nodded, her silver curls bobbing. “That happened to me once. It was in the late forties when I first heard about the atrocities against the Jewish people. I almost passed out.”

Miss Jane sighed. “No one talked about it back then. It was too horrible to think about, much less mention. I think the whole world tried to forget. It took a book by a man named Leon Uris to remind us that it had really happened.”

“I wonder if the sheriff got his copies of these translated yet.” Martin’s practical voice brought me back to the present.

“I don’t know. I guess I should find out and give these to him if he didn’t.”

“Let me call him,” Frank said. “He won’t yell at me.”

I smiled, and Frank got up and went to the phone. A few minutes later he was back, grinning.

“He doesn’t have them yet. You know how slow the department is. When I told him we had the translations, he about came unglued. I didn’t tell him you were the one who’d had them, but he seemed to know anyway. Said he’d pick them up on his way to work in the morning and you’d better not let anything happen to them.

“In that case, I’ll guard them with my life.” I tried not to appear nervous, but I was quaking inside. I shouldn’t have kept the copies. Maybe I’d better give the other copies to him, as well as the translation.

The phone rang, and I went to answer it.

Miss Aggie snapped, “Victoria, is that you?”

“Miss Aggie, it’s so wonderful to hear your voice.”

“It’s very rude to answer the phone and not give your name.”

“I’m sorry, ma’am. I won’t do it again. When are you coming home? We miss you.”

“Yes, so I hear. You’ve been putting up a fuss about me, too. I don’t know why a lady can’t go on a trip without everyone thinking she’s kicked the bucket. I’m not a child, you know.”

“I know, and I’m very sorry if I’ve offended you.”

“I guess I’m not offended. I’ll be home tomorrow. Make sure my rooms are aired out and clean.”

As if I’d have allowed her rooms to get dirty. “Yes, Miss Aggie. I’ll do that.”

“Good night, then.”

I giggled. Apparently her little adventure hadn’t dampened her spirit. I relayed the message to the seniors. Then a thought crossed my mind. It was obvious to me that Jack Riley had suspected something was wrong at his place of business. Had he discovered the smuggling activities? I wondered if the sheriff would take him into his confidence and show him the letters and documents. If not, Mr. Riley might go on indefinitely trying to uncover the truth.

I went to my office and called him at Phoebe’s. When he heard my voice, he apologized for canceling our meeting.

“That’s quite all right. Phoebe explained about the business trip.” He didn’t need to know I thought he made it up.

“Oh good. Perhaps we could make it another time.”

“Actually, I thought it would be nice if you came to dinner sometime soon.”

“I’d be delighted. Name the day.” He chuckled. “My niece is an excellent cook but tends to repeat the same menu over and over again,” he whispered.

I laughed. “How about Saturday night?”

“I’d be delighted.” He sounded like he meant it.

“Mr. Riley, I need to tell you something.” I swallowed.

“Yes, what is it?”

“I came across some documents and letters written in German and had them translated. Some of them made mention of you. The sheriff is going to pick them up in the morning and take them to his office. I thought perhaps you’d like to see them.”

CHAPTER
NINETEEN

A
sense of foreboding fell on me as I polished the floor in the great hall. I tried to shake it off by blaming it on the darkness that hung ominous and threatening over the lodge. The storm had hit around 4:00 a.m. and had continued sporadically throughout the morning and early afternoon. I started as the grandfather clock chimed. Then once more. Two o’clock already? I backed out through the door, into the foyer and stood up. A long-ago memory surfaced, and I laughed. I’d decided to surprise Grandma by waxing the great hall while she was out shopping. When I realized I’d waxed myself right into the corner by the bay window, I’d hopped onto the window seat and spent the rest of the afternoon reading The
Password to Larkspur Lane
, which I’d left on the window cushion the day before. My favorite Nancy Drew book in those days. I still had the collection, inherited from Grandma. Maybe, someday, I’d take another trip down Larkspur Lane.

A loud clap of thunder reverberated through the house.

The weather forecaster had warned of tornadoes in the area, so the seniors had decided not to brave the elements. They’d spent most of the day in the rec room, watching movies and playing dominoes.

I decided I might as well do the foyer since I was stuck in the house, but I’d need more wax.

As I passed through the kitchen on my way to the basement, Mabel sighed.

I nodded. “I know. The weather is awful. You probably should have stayed home.”

“If I’d heard about the tornado watch, I probably would have. But no use crying over spilt milk.”

I went down the steps to the basement and grabbed more wax and buffing cloths. I should probably get an electric buffer, but Grandma had always done the waxing on her knees, so it was good enough for me. Buster whined from his pallet in the corner.

“What’s the matter? Are you lonely down here?”

He came toward me, tail wagging, and rubbed his head against my leg. I reached down and scratched his ear. “Sorry, boy, I have more floors to do. Maybe later.”

He lumbered back to his blanket and lay down.

Miss Jane was in the kitchen preparing a tea tray. She looked up as I came through the door. “Georgina and I decided to have a cup of tea. I have a feeling you could use one, too.”

Mabel grumbled. “I told her I’d make it.”

“But you said you need to go to the store before the storm hits again.”

“I have time to make a pot of tea,” Mabel retorted.

I rolled my eyes. Miss Jane had done a lot of the cooking after Corky left and before Mabel showed up at the door. And she still did a lot on Mabel’s day off. Hence, she felt like the kitchen was her domain. Sometimes, the friendly rivalry approached a little too close to unfriendly.

Mabel turned to me. “If you don’t need me for a while, I’ll go on to the store. I should be back before Sarah gets here, but if I’m not, you can make her wait in the kitchen.”

I smiled. “Or she can wait in the parlor and visit with us until you get back.”

She nodded and reached for her coat.

Miss Jane cleared her throat. “You are so right about me needing a cup of tea, Miss Jane. Where are the others?”

“Eva and Frank went upstairs. Martin’s snoring on the rec room sofa. Between his snoring and the shoot ‘em up he was watching, Georgina and I decided to have our tea in the parlor.”

I chuckled. “I don’t blame you. Here, let me take that tray.”

I followed her into the parlor and put the tray on the coffee table.

Miss Jane picked up her cup. “Did I hear Buster whining?”

“Yes, I guess he thinks he’s in trouble because I won’t let him come upstairs.”

Miss Georgina giggled. “Remember the day we brought Buster home?”

I gave a short laugh. “How could I forget? His filthy paws landed on my chest, nearly knocking me over. I seem to recall it took you and Miss Jane both to get him off me.”

Miss Jane nodded. “Then Corky found the blood on Buster. If only we’d known he’d been with Aggie, maybe he could have led us to her that very day.”