Bodies & Buried Secrets: A Rosewood Place Mystery (Rosewood Place Mysteries Book 1) (15 page)

Rory looked around the room. “Rose and John probably entertained their guests in this very room. They probably used this same fireplace to keep warm.” He stepped in front of the old stone fireplace and tapped the hearth with his foot. “At least this looks sturdy. I may be a heck of a carpenter, but I’m no stone mason.” He ran his hand across the thick wooden mantel and upset a cloud of dust.

“Oops,” Annie said, her cheeks flushing pink. “Guess I might have forgotten to dust that part.”

Rory started to pull his hand away when he felt something rough under his fingertips. At just over six feet tall, he still had to stand on tiptoe to see the mantle’s surface, so he looked around for something to stand on.

“What is it?” Annie asked, puzzled by his sudden need to inspect the mantle.

“I don’t know, but something doesn’t feel right about this mantle. The wood feels split here, and it shouldn’t be.” He finally spotted a folding step-stool by the entrance to the room. He left the mantle long enough to get the stool and put it beneath the mantle to give himself enough extra height to see the top of the wooden shelf.

“What is it?” Bessie asked, rising from her seat.

“I’m not sure,” Rory admitted. “It looks like a seam, but there shouldn’t be a seam here. It should just be one solid piece of wood.” He ran his fingers across it several times, then tapped the surface of the mantle. In the middle, the sound that came back was dense and quiet. As he tapped his knuckles closer to the end of the mantle, it changed, growing louder and more hollow. “Well, I’ll be darned,” he exclaimed, tapping one last time.

“What? What’s wrong with my fireplace?” Annie’s mind raced with worry. Wood rot, termites, who knew what else could be wrong with the mantel. And who was to say the fireplace was even safe to use anymore?

“There’s nothing wrong with it,” Rory replied, giving the end of the mantle a firm tug and a twist. It came away neatly in his hand. “It’s got a secret compartment in it, that’s all.”

Rory handled the wooden compartment gently, though it felt sturdy enough. He shook it once and was rewarded by the sound of something firm shuffling around inside.

“Oh, my gosh!” Annie’s eyes widened, giving them the appearance of two cat’s-eye shooters like the marbles in the old five-and-dime store in town. “Rory, what did you find?”

The compartment was obviously a box, but it wasn’t immediately clear how that it opened or what was inside. Rory slid his hands over the surface of the smooth wood. It was beautifully crafted, and to have remained intact, hiding its contents for hundreds of years, was a pretty impressive thing.

After a few tentative pushes and prods, one side of the box slipped open, revealing a small opening. Inside the opening was a bundle of papers, tied neatly with twine. Very carefully, Rory slid the bundle out of the box and pulled one end of the rustic string. Annie scanned the top page quickly for a date, but her gut told her that these papers came from John Cooper.

“Well, what is it?” Bessie cried, tired of waiting for someone to explain what they’d just found.

“This looks like pages from a log book, maybe the kind that kept track of inventory here on the plantation.” Rory flipped through the pages, his eyes straining to read the faded words. The handwriting was fairly neat, but still hard to read. After a few moments, he handed the pages to Annie. “I think this is talking about the slaves that lived here,” he explained. As Annie perused the pages, he picked up the box again and discovered that there was still something in it. A quick shake told him it was solid, and as he upended the box a single, shiny gold coin fell out into his hand.

“Holy hades,” he muttered, minding his manners in front of Bessie. “Would you look at this?”

Annie glanced up from her reading. Her mouth fell open as she spied the coin, and her hand went to her pocket, where its twin was still tucked safely away. “Jeez, are there really that many gold coins floating around this place?” She explained about Emmett’s revelation and his own coin, and Rory laughed.

“I guess our guess about hidden treasure was right,” he said, turning the coin over in his hand. “But this certainly isn’t worth killing for.”

Annie turned her attention back to the old papers. “I don’t think this is the treasure,” she replied, pulling a page out of the stack. “Look at this.” She held out a piece of paper that looked like a bill of sale. On it, several items were listed, but these objects weren’t crops or farm products, they were people. Annie had discovered the bill of sale for nearly a dozen slaves. The year on the bill was 1833.

Her mind was agitated. Something about the date on the bill of sale and the number of slaves sold bothered her. The fee was listed as ‘six-thousand dollars and several pieces of fine jewellery,’ which seemed like such a small price for a dozen human lives. The bill made no other references to the jewellery, and Annie’s heart sank when she saw the signature at the bottom of the page. There in ink, right beside John’s own signature, was Edward McKinney’s name.

“I don’t believe it!” Annie took the diary from her mother’s hands and flipped to the last few entries. The dates were close enough to the one on the bill of sale to confirm, at least in her mind, that John Cooper had sold one dozen slaves to Edward McKinney. Yet, according to Rose’s diary, the same number of slaves had been freed and sent north with Edward. Realization hit her like a punch to the gut.

“He lied to her.”

“Who?” Bessie peered at the diary as if she thought it might tell her what was going on. “What does all this mean?”

Annie sat down in the easy chair and stacked the pages neatly on her lap. There was more than just a bill of sale here, there was a story. A story of betrayal and heartbreak filled the pages, and as she flipped through the stack one last time, she realized that one of the papers looked out of place. She pulled it free from the others and examined it more closely, and she was shocked to discover that it was a letter, addressed to Rose, signed by John.

Bessie wasn’t satisfied with her daughter’s silence. “Annie, who lied to whom?”

Annie gave up on trying to read the letter and put it back on top of the other pages with a sigh. “In Rose’s diary, she wrote that her brother freed a dozen slaves. She says that he sent them north with Edward McKinney, but this bill of sale seems to show that McKinney bought the slaves from John.” Annie shook her head. “How awful. She thought her brother was doing the right thing, doing something noble, and he told her an outright lie. And to make matters worse, Rose was in love with this ‘honorable’ McKinney character! What a scumbag!”

Rory picked up the papers from her lap and began reading the letter silently to himself. After just a few lines, he stopped. “Annie, did you read this?”

She shook her head. “No, I just glanced at it. To be honest, I doubt I’d want to hear what the man had to say after finding out he lied to that poor girl.” She realized that she probably sounded crazy, talking about Rose like she was a person that Annie actually knew instead of someone who had been dead for nearly two hundred years.

“Oh, I think you’ll want to hear this,” Rory countered. He proceeded to read the letter, and Annie listened, trying her best to reserve her judgment, but her opinion of the man was very low after the discovery of the bill of sale.

Rory’s voice was steady and deep, and as Annie listened, she could picture the past as clearly as if she was looking at it through a window.

My dearest Rose,

I know that you will never truly hear these words, nor will you ever know the horrid truth of my betrayal of you and our family, but I fear I had no choice. The things I have done, those despicable deeds of dishonesty and disreputable action, I seek no forgiveness for. I did what had to be done, though I wish to the depths of my wretched soul that I could have done differently.

Had I never engaged the services of Edward McKinney, had I never endeavored to engage in business with such a callow fellow, you might still be here with me. I blame him not for the illness that swept you to your grave, dear girl, but I blame him for breaking your fragile heart with his empty promises and careless affections.

I engaged with McKinney to help me increase the fortunes of our family’s plantation, having heard that he could secure me certain contacts who would buy our crops despite their meagre, wretched state. He assured me that a small investment would allow him to negotiate better rates for us, would bring us seed that was hardy and guaranteed to grow, and I am sorely ashamed to say that I believed him. His vile charm was little more than a con artist’s practiced display, and when the true nature of his business came to light, I shudder to think that you would ever find out the type of man I sullied our family’s reputation for.

Edward McKinney is little more than a thief and a slaver. He claims that his own father did business with ours, selling slaves up north, though if that were true we never saw one penny of it. He promised to pay me more than I could fetch for our slaves here in town or down in Charleston, and he swore that they would go to gentle masters, none that would sorely mistreat them more than necessary.

He did not pay me solely in gold, though a very handsome portion was in coin. He produced the finest jewels that I have ever laid eyes upon, and I was, I am ashamed to say, seized by greed. I accepted his payment eagerly, for we are on the verge of starvation ourselves, and kept only a handful of slaves to keep the house in order. I shall endeavor to replace those that I sold, however, I fear that I will not be using the money McKinney used to pay me.

I have been approached by no other than the Reverend Thomas of Suck Creek Church, who advised me that there is a great bounty on the head of one Edward McKinney for thieving, though he did not use the name McKinney when he described the scoundrel, I knew it was the same person. The very gold that McKinney used to pay me for our slaves, the very jewels that he swore were fairly gained, were stolen from Fort Charlotte by an unnamed party some time ago. Rose, I do believe that McKinney and his fellows are nothing short of thieves. I know that you had hopes, dear girl, of a marriage request, but I shudder to think of what that would mean if you had been betrothed to the cad.

I endeavored to confess all to you, dear sister, and beg your forgiveness, but it is my lifelong sorrow and regret that by the time I returned from Suck Creek you were gone from this earth, having been taken by fever and, I fear, the despair of a woman whose heart has been broken by a callow scoundrel.

I have endeavored to melt the coin in my possession, for if I can disguise its origins, I may yet escape attention. I have placed the jewels in the only place that I could think of, with the only person fit to keep them, to rest in Eternity with my beloved sister. I do not deserve them, for I lied to you, and for that I am eternally remorseful. I hope that we shall meet again, in the after, and I hope that you can find it in yourself to forgive your selfish, deceptive brother.

Yours faithfully,

John Cooper

Annie took a deep breath, then blew it out forcefully. “Wow.”

Bessie was speechless.

Rory simply put the paper back on top of the others and scratched his chin thoughtfully. “I guess at least now we know,” he said finally, breaking the silence that had settled around them like a thick blanket.

“Know what?” Annie asked, her shoulders suddenly aching from being so tense for so long.

“He means that at least we know where the treasure is buried,” Bessie replied, exasperation coloring her tone. When Annie looked at her as though she was a few cards short of a full deck, Bessie clucked her tongue. “Don’t you look at me like I’ve lost my ever-loving mind, Annie Purdy! You ought to have worked this one out for yourself, young lady.”

Annie shook her head. “Mama, I am too tired to play guessing games with you. What are you talking about?”

“She means that we know where the treasure is,” Rory answered gently. “It says it right there, in John’s letter. At least part of that treasure is hidden with Rose’s body, probably in her coffin.”

Realization slapped Annie like a wet towel. “Oh...you don’t mean--”

“Yes,” he cut her off. “I do. I believe that whatever treasure is hidden on your land right out back, past the barn, on the hill.” He looked at Bessie, who was nodding with approval. “Annie, he hid it in the graveyard.”

Annie was glad that she was sitting down because her legs felt suddenly very much like two weights. Her mind briefly flickered back across the day, which was only halfway through, and she felt suddenly very tired and excited all at once, like a child who has stayed up late to watch something special on television, but who inevitably will fall asleep before the program’s end.

“That’s...that’s amazing,” she said finally, giving her head a slight, incredulous shake. “All this time, people have been searching for something that was buried right there, in plain sight.”

“Well, it’s not really in plain sight now,” reminded Bessie. “It’s been all grown over for years, by the look of it. It’s so sad the way family cemeteries like that just get left to ruin.”

Sort of like the house and the family who built it
, surmised Annie. “Well, it’s no treasure map, but I’m certain that these papers will be of great interest to the historical society. I’m sure that with a little effort, we could clean up the gravesite and perhaps erect a little stone or plaque or something.”

Rory took the papers back from Annie and flipped through them once more. He stopped on a page that was torn down one side. At first glance, it looked like scrap paper with a handful of numbers written along one side. If he hadn’t seen the other half, he would have discounted this one as a piece of worthless trash. “Annie, I think I’ve found the rest of the map.”

Annie looked at him as though he’d just told her he was a unicorn. “That’s not a map,” she replied. “It’s just a scrap of paper, probably part of the bill of sale,” she added, trying to see if the paper had been attached to the bill at some point.

“No, it’s just part of the coordinates,” Rory explained. “See, these numbers here, they look like coordinates to me. I bet that if we put this with the rest of the map that Emmett has, it will give you the exact coordinates of Rose’s grave.”

Annie thought this over for a moment, chewing her bottom lip as she pondered why on earth John would have bothered creating a map to a treasure that he’d had no intention of retrieving. “Even if it is a map, no one should go disturb a grave to look for those jewels.” She crossed her arms and set her jaw. No one would be digging up any graves on her property as long as she had any say in the matter.

“What about the money? It sounds as though John buried those stolen jewels in his sister’s grave. Aren’t you the least bit curious about what’s in there?” Rory raised one eyebrow, waiting for her response.

Annie hesitated only slightly. “Rory, whatever’s buried in there with Rose Cooper, it doesn’t belong to us. If we dig it up, we’ll just have to hand it over to the authorities, and besides, it’s not right to go digging up the graves of girls who died two hundred years ago. We can tell the Chief about it when we see him next, but for now, I’m afraid this doesn’t do us a blind bit of good. Finding these papers won’t tell us who killed Suzy Anderson, and they won’t clear your name.”

A sound that reminded Annie of elephants stampeding down a hallway came from the parlour, and a moment later Devon appeared in the doorway, out of breath and with a face as pale as death.

“Mom, there’s a man in our barn. I just saw him, he opened the door and went inside.”

Annie bolted up out of her chair. “What? What did he look like?”

“Uh, he was wearing a suit,” Devon stammered. “He looked really sharp, actually.”

Annie had no idea who would possibly have any business with her at the farmhouse, especially in the middle of a spring storm. “Is it still raining?” she asked, only vaguely aware that she could no longer hear the wind rattling the windows of the house.

“Yeah, it was still drizzling when I looked out the window upstairs.”

Rory was already moving towards the kitchen when Bessie called out to him. “Take some protection! I have a cast-iron skillet sitting in the oven. You grab that and I’ll get my walking stick.”

“Mother, you are not going out there!” Annie put one hand on her mother’s arm and squeezed gently. “I’ll go see who it is. I’m sure it’s just someone who’s lost, or maybe the lawyer that I called in town decided to try and come up to see us.” She didn’t really believe either of these, but if they put her mother’s mind to rest, they could be as good as true.

Annie joined Rory in the kitchen, where they waited, watching the barn door for signs that whoever was inside was coming back out. After a few moments, Annie suggested that they simply go and investigate for themselves. She reached into the cabinet beside the back door and pulled out two flashlights. “Better to be prepared,” she suggested, though she noted that Rory had declined to take the cast-iron skillet.

They made the short walk across to the barn where the door stood open just wide enough for a person to pass through. “Somebody’s in there, or at least someone’s been in there,” Rory confirmed. “Wait here, and I’ll go see what I find.”

Annie grabbed his arm. “Please, be careful. If whoever is in there killed Suzy, they could be dangerous.” Her heart was in her throat as he slipped through the open door and into the dark barn. The dark clouds blocked out the sun, and despite the fact that it was now just past noon, the air had a feel of twilight to it. It seemed much later in the day than it really was, which seemed to match how tired Annie felt. She waited impatiently for Rory to return, imagining the worst scenarios in her head and whispering a quiet prayer beneath her breath.

Less than two minutes after he’d gone inside, Annie could hear voices. One was Rory’s, the other was familiar but one that she couldn’t quite place. They got louder as the two men approached the entrance of the barn, and she sighed a small breath of relief that she wouldn’t have to go in looking for them. Her relief was short-lived as the stranger’s face came into view.

Daniel Tremayne, dressed head to toe in a designer suit, save for the black rubber boots he wore on his feet, was walking confidently towards Annie, a puzzled smile on his face. He was wiping the rain from his face, and Annie could see beads of moisture on his expensive-looking suit jacket.

“I am so sorry for this inconvenience,” he began before she could open her mouth to question him. “The door was open, I thought you might be inside.” He shook out the damp handkerchief and tucked it into his pocket. “As I explained to Rory here, I could have sworn I saw someone walk inside, so I assumed you all must be out here working. I didn’t realize that you don’t have electricity in the barn yet.”

Rory eyed him warily. “What is it with you and open doors? You do realize that you can’t just keep trespassing on people’s property like this?”

Annie looked around for his car, but couldn’t see it. “Daniel, pardon me for asking, but how did you get here?” He’d obviously come prepared for outdoor walking since he’d been smart enough to put on boots, but she couldn’t imagine him trekking through the woods or hiking up her very long driveway in that fancy suit that he was wearing.

“I drove. Parked my Merc on the other side of the woods there. Your property actually backs onto an access road the county put in here a few years ago. There’s an old water tower up in those hills back there, and they maintain a little dirt road well enough to go do maintenance on it. I only know about it because one of the appraisers I work with told me about it.” He cast his eyes down in what Annie suspected was meant to give him some sort of ‘aw, shucks’ appeal, but on Daniel, it just looked sly.

“I don’t mean to sound awful, but your driveway is not the nicest. I didn’t want the gravel to fly up and scratch the paint on my car. I’m a little funny about my car,” he explained.

“So you what, cut through those trees and came out here?” Rory eyed him suspiciously. “Not the best weather to be hiking through the woods in, I’d say.”

Daniel laughed. “Yeah, I’d say you’re right about that. I was actually on my way back from showing a house--the storm cut that short--and when I realized that I was so close to your place, I thought I’d drop by for that chat we talked about.”

Annie didn’t remember agreeing to a second chat with Daniel, and his insistence on just dropping by unannounced was disturbing. “And you just happened to bring your boots, but no umbrella?”

“I always keep these in my car. Some of the places I have to show, well, they aren’t as nice as your place, let me just say that.” He rubbed the end of his nose, wiping away an errant raindrop.

Annie looked at Rory, trying to gauge his opinion of Daniel’s answers. “Did you see anyone else in the barn, Rory?”

“Nope, just Mr. Tremaine.” He pulled the door of the barn closed, giving it a slight wiggle to make sure it wasn’t coming loose again. “I don’t see how this door could have been open if nobody else was in there,” he remarked, eyeing Daniel with open suspicion.

“Maybe we should call Emmett. If someone has been snooping around, he might want to send one of his patrol cars up here.” Annie scanned the area around the house. It had stopped raining, but everything was wet and muddy. She didn’t necessarily like the idea of calling the police and having them drive all over her wet, vulnerable lawn, but if there really was a killer on the loose, a little torn up grass was the least of her worries.

“I suppose the wind could have opened it,” offered Daniel, trying to sound helpful. “But I was so certain that I saw...well, something, entering the barn.” He picked at his collar, flicking imaginary specks of dirt off the elegant silk tie he was wearing.

“Let’s go back to the house and I’ll get my phone.” Annie gestured for Daniel to go first. She didn’t quite know what to make of his story, and his behavior so far, polite as it had been, just struck her as peculiar. Better to have him where I can see him, she thought, and followed him to the house.

He hesitated at the back door. “Should we go in this way?”

Annie nodded and followed him inside while Rory brought up the rear. Within seconds Devon was in the kitchen, greeting the visitor with a suspicious glare. “Devon, this is Daniel Tremaine. He’s a realtor here in town, and he’s just stopped by for a chat.”

Devon glared harder. “Kinda messy weather for chats, isn’t it?”

Annie didn’t scold him, though she would have under other circumstances. He was right. It was not the right weather for dropping by unannounced. What exactly did Daniel Tremaine think he was playing at, nosing around her property? Was he hoping to pick up where his murdered fiancée had left off?

“Mr. Tremaine, Daniel, if you wouldn’t mind, what was it again that brought you here today?”

Daniel cleared his throat loudly, and Annie offered him a glass of water. After he drank it, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief. “I’m here about Suzy.” He held the handkerchief in the palm of one hand and opened its folds with the other to reveal a small, but very elegant, gold brooch with a bright green stone setting.

Annie was surprised by the beauty of the tiny brooch. It looked quite old, definitely not something she would have seen on display at any jewelry store in New York. “It’s very lovely, but I don’t understand what it has to do with Suzy.”

Daniel wrapped the brooch up again carefully and sat down at the kitchen table. Annie could tell that he planned on staying for a while, so she sat in the opposite chair while Rory remained standing by the sink. Devon excused himself and returned to the sitting room to be with Bessie, and Daniel finally answered Annie’s question with one of his own.

“How much do you know about this place?”

Annie was completely caught off-guard by his question. “Do you mean the history of it? Well, not a great deal,” she admitted. “I do know that the Cooper family owned it until the late 1800’s, then it was passed around between a few different people, but no one stayed for long.”

“Do you know about the curse that the Cooper family felt was settled upon this land?”

She nodded. “A little. From what I’ve read, they could never get the crops to grow well, despite other farms in this area thriving. And I believe that the Coopers took an unusual view on slavery,” she added.

“How so?”

“It’s my understanding that they freed several of their slaves and hated to see them mistreated. I believe they were perceived as some sort of pro-freedom plantation owners,” Annie replied, despite knowing that John had blatantly sold most of the plantation’s slaves to McKinney, who likely sent them to wretched conditions in North Carolina.

Daniel’s eyes burned with keen interest upon hearing this tidbit of information. “Where did you learn this? There’s certainly not been anything in any of the history books that I’ve read that would support that theory.” He cocked his head to one side. “How fascinating to find someone else who loves local history as much as I do.”

Annie shrugged. “I’m not really a history buff, but Rory and Devon, my son, know a great deal about the plantation’s history. Was Suzy interested in it as well?” Suzy Anderson had not struck Annie as the type of woman who gave a darn about history.

Daniel’s smile evaporated at the mention of Suzy’s name. “No, I’m afraid she was only interested the brooch and the letter that accompanied it.”

Now it was Annie’s turn to look surprised. “Oh, she had verification of the brooch’s history? How exciting.”

“Well, it’s not necessarily verification of anything, if you ask me, but it is a very convincing argument for those who believe that there are more jewels and even gold hidden somewhere on your plantation.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. “It’s a photocopy, I’m afraid. The real letter, which my dear, late fiancée found among her uncle’s things, is far too delicate to be carried around. In fact, I’ve considered taking it to the historical society and giving it to them for preservation. As you can see, it’s a terribly fascinating insight into the family that lived here over two-hundred years ago.”

Annie read the letter eagerly, hoping to learn something more about the Cooper family, but she was surprised to find that the letter was written by Edward McKinney.

“Do you know who this McKinney fellow was?” Annie didn’t want to tell Daniel what she knew. Something in his eyes looked hungry and even mean, and she was certain that he would gobble up the information and go looking for the treasure, despite the fact that it was apparently buried in Rose’s grave.