The Key in the Attic (13 page)

The guard turned to Mary Beth. “Is this true?”

She glanced helplessly at Annie. “Well, I—”

“Of course it’s not true.” Annie put her hands on her hips and nodded towards the suitcase. “Isn’t that your clock right there, Mary Beth?”

One corner of the clock was peeping out of what was left of the packing peanuts, exposing an exquisite carving of an oak tree. Sanders could only stand gaping as Mary Beth nodded.

“I’m sure it is. There can’t be two of them like that.”

The security guard eyed Sanders and the debris around him. “I think all of you had better come with me until we can get this all sorted out.”

17

The guard picked up the clock. With it securely in one hand and Sanders’s arm firmly in the other, he led them all through some doors marked “Private” and into a sitting area. Unlike the colorful seating and decor in the airport lounges, this place was strictly utilitarian. The gray walls were bare. The chairs were straight-backed, hard-plastic molded seats bolted to metal frames. They also were gray.

Besides the chairs, the only other furniture in the room was a gray metal desk that looked as if it had been repaired, painted, and passed down a number of times. The security guard sat down behind it and put the clock on top of it.

“Now, I want to know what’s going on here. Do we need to get the police involved?”

“No!”

Mary Beth and Sanders both spoke at the same time, and then Sanders ducked his head.

“Go ahead and take it back,” Sanders said. “I don’t care any more. But you’d better catch your flight, however many of you are going. If you don’t, what you’re looking for will either be found or plowed under. I don’t want the stupid clock.”

The guard looked at Mary Beth. “Then that is yours, ma’am?”

“I’m sure it must be. Is it OK if I take the paper off?”

The guard nodded, and Mary Beth carefully unwrapped the clock.

“Yes, it’s definitely mine.” She gave Annie a worried look as she rubbed one hand over the glossy wood. “You don’t think it’s broken now, do you?”

“Don’t worry,” Annie said. “I’m sure Mr. Malcolm will be happy to check it over once we get it back. And I’m sure he won’t let there be any mix-ups this time.”

Sanders scowled. “Can I go now?”

Annie shook her head. “I want to know what you were after. What exactly did you think you were going to find?”

“Same thing as you.” He narrowed his eyes at her. “Don’t you think you’d better get out of here before you miss your plane?”

Annie and Alice exchanged grins.

“I wasn’t planning on going anywhere but back home,” Annie said.

“But the trees. I had it checked out myself. They’re clearing that field starting tomorrow. Everything will be gone.” He stopped, and then he laughed abruptly. “You don’t know where it is any more than I do, do you?”

Annie responded only with an enigmatic smile.

“And those two girls at my shop were part of the scheme too.” He looked as if he wanted to kick himself. “Great. That’s just fabulous. Outwitted by Charlie’s Angels’ grandmas.”

Annie pressed her lips together. “How about you tell us what you know about Geoffrey Whyte, and the clue you found? The police gave me a copy of the notes you had when they questioned you before. What do you think it means?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. That was just some silly poetry I was playing with. It’s very personal.”

“Not as personal as going to jail,” Alice said.

Sanders rolled his eyes. “Why should I tell you anything? Do what you want. Press charges. I’m not going to help you.”

“But maybe we can help you.” Annie glanced at Mary Beth. “If you were nice and told us everything you know and why you wanted the clock so badly, Ms. Brock may not find it necessary to press charges against you.”

Sanders rolled his eyes. “For petty theft? I don’t have any prior convictions or even any arrests. I probably won’t get anything worse than probation.”

“For petty theft, maybe. But for assault? Maybe even attempted murder?”

“Attempted murder? Hold on, now, Mrs. Dawson, you can’t—”

“You pushed us right into the path of that luggage carrier. The security guard saw it all. Seems like a pretty deliberate attempt to kill me and my friend Alice, if you ask me.”

Sanders snorted, “Don’t be silly.”

“You saw it all, didn’t you?” Annie turned to the security guard. “If I hadn’t pulled my friend out of the way, she could have been badly hurt.”

The big man fixed Sanders with a baleful eye. “That was a pretty reckless thing to do, sir. Maybe it was and maybe it wasn’t deliberate, but it was reckless, and you did put these ladies in danger. I’d have to testify to what I saw. It’d be wrong not to. And you’ve as good as admitted to taking this lady’s property. I’d have to testify to that too.”

He and the three women looked at Sanders, waiting for his response. For a while, he just sat there, his nostrils flaring and his lips twitching as he glared at them. Then he threw up his hands.

“All right. All right! It was a crazy thing to do. You know the Civil War period is a special interest of mine. A few years ago, I bid on some antique pieces from the Whyte estate. Part of the lot was a box of books, and one of those books was Geoffrey Whyte’s diary. There wasn’t much in it of note. He kept some detailed records of his expenses and sometimes commented on current events and parties he’d gone to. But that changed in 1861. He wrote about this girl he’d met, except he never used her name. He just said things like, ‘A and I met at a supper party at J’s’ or ‘Saw A at Mrs. B’s barbecue, terribly fetching.’ Later on, things evidently got serious between them, and he was worried about what would happen to her if he went to war and was killed. His mother, it seemed, held the purse strings still and disapproved of the girl. He seemed very upset that she found the girl not of a suitable class to consider marriageable and wouldn’t give him even a portion of some inheritance he had due him from a deceased grandfather. The moment he was of age, he took all the money and bought something. I don’t know what, but it was something he thought would provide for this girl in case he didn’t come home from the war.”

Annie narrowed her eyes at him. “It must have been something with intrinsic value,” she said. “I don’t know about right then, but at some point Confederate currency was notoriously unstable.”

Sanders nodded. “He said he wanted something his mother wouldn’t find and demand the girl return, something ‘A’ could easily conceal. Something durable.”

“What was it?”

“He never said anything specific in the diary. I tried to do a little nosing around, but I never could find out anything about it or even who ‘A’ was. He never wrote out her name in his diary. Maybe he didn’t want Mother scaring her off.”

Annie gave him a hint of a smile. “I understand Georgianna Flippin Whyte was quite a formidable woman in her day.”

“Must have been. Geoffrey thought so at any rate.” Sanders shrugged. “Anyway, I thought it was a great story, but I didn’t think anything else about it until I bought that writing desk of hers.” Sanders jerked his chin toward Mary Beth. “I couldn’t believe it when I checked it out at Park Cambridge Antiques and found that clue in it.”

“There was a key, too, wasn’t there?”

He glanced at Annie, his mouth taut. “Maybe.”

“Mr. Sanders, do you want these charges dropped or not?”

“OK, OK.” He dug in his pocket and brought out a little key, small and brass like the others Geoffrey had left behind. “But I couldn’t figure out what it goes to. There’s nothing on the clock with a keyhole except where you wind it, and that’s the wrong kind of key. The base of the clock is just a solid block of wood. And where are the trees he’s talking about? If that place they’re about to clear doesn’t have anything to do with this—”

“And it doesn’t,” Annie said.

“—then where are the trees he’s talking about? I’ve been out to the old Whyte place, or what’s left of it. If there were two specific trees he had in mind, I guess they’re gone now. I thought there had to be another clue inside the clock that gave the right path to the trees he mentioned. I even thought there might be something in those carvings that would give me a path—some kind of directions to find the treasure—but I don’t see it. I’ve studied that stupid clock until I’m cross-eyed and color blind, and I can’t find the clue he’s talking about.” He tossed the key onto the table in front of her. “I suppose whatever he left is gone now too. I don’t guess there’s any reason for me to go to jail for something that’s not there anymore.”

Annie looked at Mary Beth. “Does that satisfy you?”

“What did you do to make my clock stop?” Mary Beth asked, her mouth taut.

Sanders shook his head. “Nothing. Why do you think that?”

Annie rolled her eyes. “So it just happened to stop right after you left that day?”

“Nothing I did on purpose anyway.” He shrugged. “While I was examining it, I guess I could have turned the face a little, enough so the mechanism behind it wasn’t hanging straight anymore. I’ve done it before winding my own clocks. It doesn’t hurt anything, but it keeps the clock from running right.”

“So you were the one who broke into my house.”

“You said you weren’t pressing charges.”

“Not if you tell us the truth.” Annie gave him a hard look. “It was you, wasn’t it?”

“I didn’t know the clock had stopped, so I didn’t know you’d taken it to be repaired. When I broke in and found it wasn’t there anymore, I didn’t want to take anything else. Nothing that the police would really bother to try to find.”

Annie still glared at him. “And how did you find out where the clock was?”

He jerked his chin toward Mary Beth. “I heard her say you were taking the clock into Brunswick to be fixed. There’s only one shop there that does work on specialty pieces like that. I just sent a friend of mine out there.”

“And who’s this friend? I suppose he’s the one who actually picked up the clock while you were giving yourself an alibi in New York.”

“Oh no, Mrs. Dawson, that’s one name you won’t be getting out of me. He thought he was just helping pull a prank on a friend and didn’t even know he was breaking the law. He’s not part of the deal.”

“Then we don’t have a deal.”

“No.” Mary Beth put one hand on Annie’s arm. “It’s all right. It’s not like he has any reason to do this to anybody else. I have my clock back and the little bit of information we were missing. I guess that’s the best we can hope for now. I don’t think Mr. Sanders here will be trying any other criminal activities. The police will come down hard on him if any other complaints are brought against him, I’m sure.”

Sanders gave her a half-smile, one that seemed surprisingly genuine. “Thank you, Ms. Brock. I’ll make it up to you.”

The security guard gave him a hard look, and then he turned to Annie and her friends.

“So is this settled?”

Annie fixed Sanders with a steely glare. “Did you bring some cash to take on your trip today?”

“Yes, but I—”

“How much do you think it will cost to replace your CD and DVD players, Mary Beth?”

Mary Beth shrugged. “I don’t know. They’re not all that expensive these days. Not the ones I had anyway.”

With a sigh, Sanders pulled out his wallet, took out several bills, and laid them on the table in front of Mary Beth.

“Will that do?”

Annie gave the money a disdainful look. “And there was the window she had to have replaced.”

Sanders briefly closed his eyes, and then he took the remainder of the bills in his wallet and added them to the others. Annie counted them out and gave them to Mary Beth.

“Does that cover everything, Mary Beth?”

Mary Beth nodded. “I can’t think of anything else.”

“OK,” the security guard said. “Now is everybody happy? No need to call the police? I still can, you know.”

“I think we’re fine now,” Annie told him. “You’ve been very helpful. Um … in case our friend here changes his mind later on, you would be willing to testify about what happened today, right?”

“Yes, ma’am. I’d be happy to.” He fished in his pocket, pulled out a much-handled business card and gave it to her. “If any of you ladies need me, you just call.”

Annie glanced at the card and suppressed a giggle as she put it in her purse. He certainly didn’t look like a Timmy Pertwee.

“Thank you,” she said, offering him her hand. “Really, you’ve been very helpful. Come on, girls—let’s go home. Mr. Sanders, you’d better go see if you can get the money back for your ticket to Virginia. There’s nothing there for you to see.”

Sanders only gave her a sour look. “My ticket was nonrefundable.”

18

Annie sighed as Mary Beth pulled onto the highway heading away from the airport and back toward Stony Point. “At least we got your clock back,” Annie said.

“You don’t sound very happy about that,” Alice said.

Mary Beth smiled at Alice in the rearview mirror. “I am. Mr. Sanders is probably right. If there was some kind of treasure, it must be long gone by now. But I have my clock back. Whatever happens with the shop will just have to happen.”

Annie chewed her lower lip, staring out the front window of the SUV, not really seeing anything. It was maddening. Geoffrey had to have left something for Angeline to find. Something valuable. What could it have been? And what had happened to it?

Sanders had known about the Whyte home, and he had checked the surrounding area. The trees Geoffrey had mentioned must have been someplace special to him and Angeline all those years ago. If they hadn’t been cut down, there was no way of identifying them now, was there?
Between the trees.

Annie cleared her throat. “Mary Beth?”

Mary Beth pulled into the right lane to let a faster car pass. “Hmmm?”

“Did you ever go to the house Angeline lived in? Maybe the trees in the clue were on her land somewhere.”

Mary Beth chuckled. “If they were, then we’ve really hit a dead end. I remember Mom telling me how upset her mother was when they tore that place down to build a highway sometime back in the thirties.”

Annie exhaled heavily. “I don’t suppose you ever heard of any special place around there? Some trysting place for young lovers?”

This time Mary Beth laughed outright. “Just how old do you think I am? And I never lived in the area myself, you know. But, no, I never heard Mom or Grandma talk about anything like that.”

“You’ll just have to give this one up,” Alice said. “Take yourself out of crime-solving mode, and put yourself back into enjoying-a-normal-life mode.”

“You’re right. But I think if I’m not going to be in crime-solving mode, I need to be in figure-out-what-to-do-about-Burly-Boy mode. I guess I’ve been hoping that, whatever it was, what Geoffrey left for Angeline would somehow fix the Burly Boy situation too.”

Mary Beth looked straight ahead, watching traffic, but Annie could see a flicker of sadness in her eyes.

“I guess I was hoping that too,” Mary Beth said. “I suppose that would be too much of a miracle to ask for.” She sighed and then abruptly straightened her shoulders and smiled. “But it was a good way to keep my mind off things I can’t do anything about.”

Alice grinned. “It was fun, wasn’t it?”

“It’s only fun when you can actually solve the puzzle,” Annie groused.

“Now, now,” Alice said, shaking her finger. “Burly-Boy mode, remember?”

****

For the next couple of days, Annie went through her usual routine with half of her mind focused on her normal daily tasks and half if it sifting through different ways she might help Mary Beth save A Stitch in Time. Everything—it seemed—was either impractical or impossible. Finally she went across the lawn to the carriage house and knocked on the door.

There was no answer. Alice was probably giving one of her jewelry parties. Or was it Divine Décor this time?

With a sigh, Annie turned to go back home. Before she reached her own door, Alice’s red Mustang turned into her driveway.

“Hey. Were you looking for me?”

Annie waved and scurried over to the car. “I was thinking maybe you and I should go over to Mary Beth’s and do some brainstorming. What do you think?”

“I think you’re nuts,” Alice said with a good natured shake of her head, “but if Mary Beth is willing to have a little company, I’m game. As long as the conversation in no way turns to anything concerning the selling of costume jewelry. I’ve had my fill for the day.”

Annie laughed. “Let me call Mary Beth and see if she’ll let us stop by, and then I’ll grab my purse and be right out.”

Annie hurried inside and punched in a telephone number. Mary Beth picked up before it even rang.

“That was quick.”

“Annie? I was trying to call you.”

They both laughed.

“Listen, Mary Beth, Alice and I thought that, if you’re up to it, we’d come by your place and brainstorm about the Burly Boy problem.”

“Ugh. I don’t know if my brain will go there anymore. But, yeah, come on over. I have something for you to see.”

“Ooh, what?”

“Uh-uh. You’ll just have to come and see.”

****

Alice’s Mustang got her and Annie to Mary Beth’s in record time, and Mary Beth was standing at the door waiting for them.

“You won’t believe what I got in the mail today. Come in, you two, and sit down. Coffee?”

Alice and Annie followed her into the kitchen and sat at the table.

“So what did you get? Did Burly Boy decide to build somewhere else?”

Mary Beth frowned. “No, that’s still on, I’m afraid. Mr. Huggins hasn’t signed the papers yet, but my time is about up, and I don’t have any more alternatives.”

“I’m sorry, Mary Beth,” Annie murmured. “I wish there was something we could do.”

“It’s OK. That’s not why I called you over here anyway. I thought you’d like to see this.”

She put a letter down on the table in front of them.

Ms. Brock—

I thought you’d want this. I’m sorry it’s not really worth anything except as a little family history. Thanks again.

Alice snatched up the paper. “It’s signed Frank Sanders. Well.”

“Wait a minute. You didn’t let me read the P.S.” Annie took the letter from her. “‘I told you I’d make it up to you.’ What does that mean? What was in the letter?”

Mary Beth opened a notebook and brought out another letter, this one very old and yellowed. Annie recognized the writing at once.

“That’s from Geoffrey.”

Her eyes sparkling, Mary Beth nodded. “It was hidden in that secret cubby hole all these years, and we never even knew it. I’m glad Mr. Sanders was good enough to send it back to me. I think it belongs with Angeline’s dance card and her other memories of Geoffrey.”

Annie strained to read the faded ink.

Sweetheart,

I fear I do not have good news for you. I spoke to Mother regarding the legacy left me by my Grandfather Whyte. She still refuses to grant me any part of it until I come of legal age. Four months is not so long, my darling, but I cannot bear the thought of leaving you alone and unprotected should the war well and truly come to pass.

If only Mother knew you. She would love you, as anyone who knows you must. For the present, however, I will find some way to provide for you that she will not know of.

Be patient.

Yours with all my heart,

Geoffrey

Below that, still in Geoffrey’s handwriting, was the original of the clues Sanders had copied down to carry around with him:

Stand between the trees,

face to the north, move west to east

from the west move south to north

from the south move east to west

from the east move north to south

from the north move east again

from the south move downward

and then the key …

Just as she finished reading, Annie heard four delicate chimes from the direction of the mantelpiece—from Mary Beth’s antique clock.

“I didn’t know it chimed,” Annie said, enchanted by the angelic tinkling of the bell.

Mary Beth laughed. “After all this time, I didn’t know it either. Isn’t it beautiful? Your Mr. Malcolm did wonders with it, and after it had been silent for so long.”

“Well, that’s a treasure in itself,” Alice said. “Though it’s too bad we couldn’t find what Geoffrey left behind.”

Mary Beth sighed. “I’m sure Mr. Sanders searched all over this clock looking for another clue. And Mr. Malcolm would have taken it all apart when he was fixing it. There’s just nothing here anymore. Maybe it’s not even the right clock.”

Annie stood staring, seeing but not seeing the clock before her. “Between the trees. Between the trees! Oh my goodness, I can’t believe how stupid I’ve been!” She turned the clock around. “What are those?”

Mary Beth wrinkled her forehead. “They’re trees, but you can’t really stand between them, can you?”

“No, think about it.” Annie turned the clock back around the right way and tapped the glass on the front. “What is this?”

“The face, but—”

Annie took the clock off the mantel and set it down on the end table. “If I stand ‘between the trees’ like this …” She stood behind the clock. “… and if I assume the face is facing north, then what happens if I follow these directions?”

Alice laughed. “And do what? Wander around the way it says until an amazing treasure magically appears? There’s nothing in there.”

“I don’t know, but I want to try something.” Annie put both hands on the base of the clock. “Read me the first part.”

Mary Beth picked up the paper and read: “Stand between the trees, face to the north, move west to east.”

“OK, stop there. If the face is north, and I’m standing behind it, ‘between the trees,’ then west is to my left and east is to my right.”

Annie pushed on the base of the clock, trying to slide the front from the left to the right. At first nothing happened, and then it budged a little. She pushed harder, and part of it moved to one side.

Mary Beth’s mouth fell open. “Oh Annie.”

Annie’s hands trembled. “I wasn’t sure it would work, but it was the last thing I could think of. I’ve seen those Chinese puzzle boxes. They look like they’re just solid blocks of wood, but if you know the right pattern, you can open them up.”

“Amazing,” Alice breathed.

“Which way next, Mary Beth?” Annie asked.

“From the west move south to north.”

Annie slid the left side of the clock base forward and then looked again to Mary Beth.

“From the south move east to west.”

Annie pushed the backside of the base to her left. “And then?”

“From the east move north to south, and then from the north, move east again.”

Annie pushed the right side of the base toward herself and then slid the front panel further to the right. “OK, and then what?”

“I can’t stand it,” Mary Beth said, her voice unsteady.

“What’s next!” Alice insisted.

“All right already!” Mary Beth took a deep breath. “From the south move downward, and then the key.”

Annie slid the back of the base down, exposing a tiny keyhole, and then she glanced up at both of them. “And then the key.”

“Wait a minute.” Mary Beth disappeared into her kitchen and then came back with the little brass key Sanders had turned over to her. “Here it is.”

Annie stepped back from the clock. “Go ahead.”

Alice’s blue eyes sparkled. “Oh, come on. You’re making me crazy.”

Mary Beth turned the key until there was a little clicking sound and then she gave it a tug. The key and the whole backside of the clock base came away in her hand, exposing a small hollow space packed with cotton wadding.

“Goodness!” She pulled out several pieces, but there was still more. “No wonder we thought this was a solid block of wood. Whatever’s in here, if there’s anything besides packing, certainly wouldn’t rattle.”

Annie felt one of the pieces of wadding. “It’s almost like new, it’s been protected from light and moisture for so long.”

“At last!” Mary Beth had finally exposed the treasure Geoffrey had left for Angeline more than 150 years before. It sparkled at its first touch of light. “Oh my. Oh … it’s just …”

She pulled on it, and out slid a glittering multistringed necklace of rubies, diamonds, and pearls set in gold.

“Ooh,” Annie breathed.

For once, Alice was speechless.

Mary Beth shook her head. “That is … it’s … I can’t believe it.”

“Is there anything else in there?” Annie asked. “You ought to check.”

Mary Beth pulled out the rest of the cotton wadding, revealing a matching ring and earrings. All of the jewelry was in pristine condition, sparkling as if it had just been made.

She traced her finger over the ornate golden setting that held the necklace’s largest ruby. “Do you think … I mean, could they possibly be real?”

The three of them just sat staring for a very long time.

“I’m just—” Mary Beth caught her breath. “I’m so overwhelmed, my head’s spinning.”

Annie examined the jewels a little more closely. “I don’t know what these are worth, but it has to be a lot. Surely it would be enough to buy your building.”

“If they’re real,” Alice reminded her.

Mary Beth’s expression sobered. “Wait a minute. If this was Geoffrey’s and Angeline never got it, wouldn’t it be part of his estate? Maybe I don’t have any right to it at all, real or not.”

“What do you mean?” Alice frowned. “It’s been in your family for years, whether or not you knew about it. And obviously, he meant for her to have it. How could it not be yours?”

Annie thought for a minute. “I don’t know. Even if it was legally hers, what about any other heirs? If Angeline was your great-great-grandmother, what about your great-aunts and -uncles? Or their heirs? The money from this might have to be spread out among a lot of people.”

Mary Beth sat down, still staring at the sparkling jewelry. “I didn’t think about that. I guess I’m right back where I started.”

“Do you have a family tree written down anywhere?” Annie asked. “Maybe it would give you some idea about who you’d have to consider.”

“Just the Bible. I think my grandmother kept birth and death records in it up to when Mom was born. I know Mom’s only brother and sister died of diphtheria when they were children back in the 1930s. I’ll have to look up the rest.”

Mary Beth’s family Bible was well read but in amazingly good condition for its age. Still, Annie took extra care when turning the fragile pages. The earliest marriage listed was that of Angeline’s parents, John Morrow and Paralee Walling in 1837. Angeline was the third of their eleven children. Angeline and her husband, Mary Beth’s great-great-grandfather James Parish, had only one daughter, Emma. Emma had one daughter and three sons, but all of the boys died in 1918.