Rest in Peace (26 page)

I wasn’t in the mood to travel down that memory lane. “Yes, but we found her anyway. And all’s well that ends well, as they say.” And, thank the Lord, Miss Aggie was well this time, too.

Miss Georgina sighed. “I wonder what time she’ll be home.”

To be honest, I’d expected her before now. “Don’t worry. She’ll be here.”

Lightning flashed through the room, and thunder boomed. A downpour of rain beat against the roof and windows. There was loud pounding on the front door, followed by the ring of the doorbell.

I ran to open the door before whomever it was got drenched. A raincoat-clad figure, hat pushed down low, shoved past me and yanked a gun from somewhere, shaking it in my face.

“Where are the documents?” The shrill words pierced through me as I realized who stood there.

“Christiana? What are you doing?”

She laughed. “What does it look like I’m doing? I’m pointing a gun at your face, and if you don’t get those documents, I’ll blow your head off.”

“What documents?” Perhaps I could stall until I came up with an idea of what to do.

“Don’t play games with me, Victoria Storm. I know my mother brought the documents to you before she left town. And there must be something about the treasure in them. I haven’t searched this long to let someone else have them.”

Realization hit me. “You’re the one who shot at us at Pennington House?”

I heard the kitchen door close softly.

Christiana started. “What was that noise?”

“What? The thunder?” Was Mabel back so soon? My heart jumped. Or…was it already time for Sarah to be here?
Please, God, keep them both away
.

“Victoria, who was…” Miss Georgina stood in the parlor door with her mouth hanging open.

Christiana, her eyes wild, waved the gun at me. “Get in there. Who else is here?”

I stepped over to Miss Georgina, took her arm, and walked with her into the parlor. Miss Jane stood in the middle of the room, eyes wide.

The three of us sat on the sofa against the wall while Christiana stood in front of us with the gun.

“Now,” she shouted, “I want those documents. They belonged to my grandfather, and they’re mine.”

“I’m sorry. I turned them over to the sheriff a couple of days ago.”

“Don’t give me that. I heard you talking to my mother about the sheriff. You don’t like him, and you wouldn’t have given them to him.”

At this moment, the sheriff would be my best friend, if he showed up. But that wasn’t likely to happen. My heart froze. Miss Aggie. What if she came in while Christiana was holding them at gunpoint? Would the girl shoot her? For that matter, she might fire on any or all of them at any time. I prayed Frank, Miss Evalina, and Martin would remain asleep.

“Christiana, while it’s true the sheriff and I don’t always get along, he’s still the law around here, and I did give him the documents. I couldn’t read them anyway because they were in German.”

The girl’s lips trembled, and for the first time, uncertainty filled her eyes. Then in a split second, rage filled her eyes. “You’d better not be lying to me.”

“You can call him if you like.” I tried to sound calm, while inwardly my stomach churned and my heart pounded.

Her hands began to shake, and I feared the gun might go off accidentally. Could I risk trying to knock it from her hands?

Over her shoulder, I saw Martin creep up to the door with a heavy vase in his hands.
No, no, Martin. If she hears you, she’ll shoot
.

He drew closer and closer. He raised the vase above his head. His sharp intake of breath was so loud I heard it from the sofa. Christiana whirled around. I launched myself at her, knocking her to the floor.

She screamed, and the gun went off. I grabbed at her hand, trying to get a grip on the gun. My fingers wrapped around her wrist, and I squeezed. Martin grabbed the gun as it dropped from her hand.

She screamed again. “I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you!”

Martin aimed the pistol at her. “Young’un, you don’t have the gun anymore. How are you gonna kill anyone?”

“Okay, I’ll take over from here.” Sheriff Turner and Deputy Lewis charged through the door, their sidearms drawn. Miss Aggie thundered past them and threw her arms around Miss Jane, then Miss Georgina.

Jack Riley stood in the doorway, but Benjamin shoved his way past him and hurried to take me in his arms.

“Are you all right?” His eyes scanned me from top to toe, searching for injuries.

“I’m fine, Ben. Except for my nerves. But why did you all get here at just the right time?”

Sarah’s tiny form slipped around Mr. Riley. “Me and Miss Aggie called them.” She stood in front of me, her thumbs in her jeans pockets. “I saw someone push you and shove their way in the door when I was walking from the bus, so I sneaked in the kitchen and listened. Then I ran out the back door just as Miss Aggie pulled up. I didn’t know who she was, but I ran over to the car.”

Miss Aggie nodded and looked at Sarah with admiration shining from her eyes. “The child was shaking so hard I could barely make out what she was saying, but she’s a very brave and determined little girl.”

Sarah giggled. “Yeah, I was shaking pretty good, but then I told her what I saw and heard. She called the sheriff, and we sat in the car until he got here. I wanted to come back in to make sure you were okay, but Miss Aggie wouldn’t let me.”

She rocked back and forth from heel to toe, her eyes shining. “Did I save you?”

I reached for her, and she came close and let me hug her. “Sarah Carey, you did indeed save me. You’re my hero.”

We stood together and watched as the sheriff snapped handcuffs on Christiana and took her away.

A charge of excitement ran through the lighted parlor. We’d called in for pizza, since the meat loaf Mable had prepared wouldn’t have been enough for everyone. After we’d eaten, we went into the parlor. The seniors stared at Jack Riley expectantly. Benjamin and I sat on one of the love seats, leaning forward so we wouldn’t miss a word. Was the manwho’d been the focus of my suspicions for so long going to reveal all the secrets he’d held through the years? And if so, would the strands of mystery surrounding Pennington House finally become unraveled?

He leaned forward, his hands pressing against his clenched lips. He drew a deep breath and sat up straighter. “It’s hard to know where to begin. This happened so long ago.”

No one spoke or hardly seemed to breathe.

“You see, all I ever wanted was to build the business and take care of my family. Then, when Hitler began his insane vendetta against the Jewish people, my focus was on helping as many as possible. Through my connections in England and the United States, I was able to transfer a great deal of money and valuables for some. But when things got worse and people began to disappear, I knew I needed to concentrate on getting as many people out of the country as possible. Most left Germany with only the clothing on their backs.

“I still wanted to help with their assets, so I chose two of my employees, Frederick Heffner and Thomas Schmidt. Men who had been with me for a number of years. I taught them how to move the funds and property.”

He coughed and cleared his throat. I picked up a pitcher of water and filled his glass.

He drank deeply and thanked me.

“I’m not sure when they decided to smuggle the goods for personal gain. I do know, in the beginning, legitimate transfers were made. After the war I began to suspect something dishonest was going on. In the autumn of 1950, I found evidence. When Heffner and Schmidt discovered Iwas on to them, they disappeared. I’m quite sure they had prepared ahead of time for just such a possibility.

“I discovered bills of sale and other papers itemizing some of the valuables they’d stolen.”

I leaned forward. “Were the men ever apprehended?”

“No. I’m sorry to say, in spite of my attempts, they were never brought to justice. I recently discovered that Schmidt died of cancer in a hospital in Wales. I’ve no idea what happened to Heffner. He simply disappeared.

“For a number of years I turned my attention to finding the stolen goods and doing my best to return them to their rightful owners or their families. I’ve had some success, although too often the trail ended in the records of some concentration camp.

“I was especially interested in a group of emeralds taken from a very wealthy family in Berlin. I managed to find two descendants. A young brother and sister. They’d been living in a French orphanage for several years, since their parents died in an automobile accident.”

Miss Aggie sat up straight. “So this is why you wished to find the rumored Pennington emeralds?”

He sent her an apologetic smile. “Yes, I’m afraid so. The recent documents that Miss Storm turned over to the sheriff confirmed that the emeralds were indeed in the hands of Clyde Foster and your brother.”

Miss Aggie whirled and faced me. “What documents?”

I told her about the translations, and she nodded, smiling, not seeming in the least bit surprised. I would have expected some excitement at finally having proof that the jewels existed.

Mr. Riley nodded. “So, the jewels were at Pennington. At least at one time. But we’ll probably never know who has them now, if anyone does.”

Miss Aggie’s cheek twitched, then a smile curved her lips. “Don’t be too sure. I haven’t been on a sightseeing trip, you know.”

I coughed, spattering hot tea all over my lap.

Miss Aggie frowned. “Be careful, Victoria. You’re so messy sometimes.”

“Excuse me, Miss Aggie. I didn’t exactly do it on purpose.” I narrowed my eyes. “Do you have something to tell us?”

She grinned. “As a matter of fact, I do.”

We waited while she looked around at her roomful of friends, an expression of glee on her face. “You know, you aren’t the only ones who can investigate.”

Frank, a little miffed that he and Miss Evalina had missed all the afternoon excitement, emitted an impatient
whoosh
of air. “Would you get on with it, Aggie?”

“Okay.” Her voice sounded chipper. “I left the car in the parking lot deliberately, to throw anyone off the scent who might be following me.”

Martin rolled his eyes and snorted.

“Don’t you snort at me, Martin Downey. That’s the way the detectives do it, you know. She frowned. “But I didn’t know I’d left my cell phone, and the bracelet must have broken and slipped off when I got out of the car.”

Miss Georgina threw her friend a confused look. “But Aggie, who was tailing you?”

“I don’t know. But someone could have been. Whoever killed Clyde, maybe.”

I had my own idea about that but kept it to myself.

Miss Aggie shifted in her chair. “You see, I’d suddenly decided it would be a good thing to go through Forrest’s personal items. Simon kept them stored in his attic. Of course, he’d looked through them after Forrest’s death, but since he had no idea he needed to search for evidence of a crime, he could easily have missed something.”

Seeing her point, I nodded. “But your nephew and his wife were out of town.”

“Exactly. I could have called him, but then I’d have had to explain what I was looking for. And to be honest, I didn’t know. And I didn’t want to tell Simon I suspected his father of being a crook.”

I hadn’t thought of that aspect.

“Go on, Aggie.” Miss Jane’s eyes were bright with excitement and maybe a bit of envy. This sort of thing was right up her alley.

Miss Aggie leaned toward Miss Jane, and I could almost picture them when they were girlhood best friends, tilting their heads together over their teenage secrets.

“I took the bus to Jefferson City and stored my suitcase in one of the lockers. Then I jumped in a cab and went to Simon’s house. I didn’t have a key, so I had to break a window to get in, but it was easy. Simon really needs to put in a security system, and I told him so, too. I went to the attic and started going through boxes and trunks. But there were so many, and it was getting late. I retrieved my suitcase and got me a hotel room for the night. I didn’t want to stay anywhere nice, because whoever was tailing me would be sure to watch those places, so I went and got me a room ina dinky downtown hotel. I changed hotels every night, just in case, and stored my suitcase in the locker in the daytime.” She glanced around, her eyes sparkling. “It’s the most fun I’ve had in years.”

“But Aggie,” Miss Evalina said. “When the police found your suitcase, there was blood on some of your clothing. What happened?”

Miss Aggie appeared surprised for a minute, then laughed. “Oh. So that’s why everyone thought I was dead. I broke my perfume bottle when I got out of my car at the airport. When I picked it up, I cut my hand. Look.” She held her hand up. “It’s still not all the way healed.”

We stared at the deep scratch on her finger that had caused us so much grief and worry.

“I’m really sorry you were all so worried. I didn’t know you’d find out that Simon was away. I thought if you called and no one answered you’d think we were out somewhere.” She looked thoughtful. “I should have realized one of the kids would be going over to get their mail and stuff.”

I smiled and, reaching over, patted her hand. “It’s okay, Miss Aggie. You didn’t know. So, did you turn up anything interesting in Forrest’s things?”

Her lips tilted in a slow smile. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a yellowed sheet of paper, which she proceeded to unfold.

“This,” she said, “is the map that will lead us to the Pennington jewels.”

CHAPTER
TWENTY