What Once Was Lost (39 page)

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Authors: Kim Vogel Sawyer

Tags: #Fiction, #Christian, #Historical, #Romance, #General

BOOK: What Once Was Lost
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They topped the rise leading to the poor farm, and Levi squinted ahead. A movement caught his attention—the outhouse door swinging open. His heart leaped with hope. She was there! But instead of Miss Willems stepping from the small building, a slight-built man emerged. Levi leaned forward a bit,
examining the man from his straw hat to his boots. He’d never seen the stranger before. Had squatters decided to take up residence out here?

Levi flicked the reins. “Get up!” The horses broke into a trot, and Tommy gripped the seat as they bounced across the rough ground and Levi drew the wagon to a halt behind the huge barn. “Stay put,” Levi told Tommy. Then he hopped down and strode to meet the man halfway between the outhouse and the farmhouse. The man grinned as Levi approached, but the grin faded when Levi barked, “Who are you, and what are you doing out here?”

Instead of answering, the man cupped his hands and bellowed, “Grover!”

A second man—as big boned as the first man was wiry, wearing work pants and a shirt with its sleeves rolled up to expose his trunk-sized forearms—stomped from behind the house. Levi braced himself. Two against one wouldn’t be easy, but he’d take them both on if necessary.

As soon as the second man joined his buddy, the first one looked at Levi. “I’m Tucker. This is Grover. We’re rebuildin’ this house. Who are you, and what’re you doin’ here?”

Chapter 38

Christina paced the small hotel room paid for by Mr. Dunnigan. Mr. Benjamin Paul Edgar—or Ben, as she tried to remember to call him—sat on a ladder-back chair he’d carried in from his room across the hall and watched her. He’d draped his jacket over the chair’s back and loosened his tie. In his casual pose—one arm looped over the chair’s top rung and his ankle propped on his knee—he looked more like a man enjoying a break on a park bench than a lawyer determined to prove her innocent of robbery charges. She wished she could feel as relaxed as he appeared.

“Miss Willems, you’ll wear a path in the carpet if you don’t cease your endless marching to and fro.” His wry comment, accompanied by a teasing grin, did nothing to put her at ease.

Crossing her arms over her chest, she turned and retraced her steps. “I can’t help it. Why would someone be so cruel as to steal from the Creegers, then give the money to Tommy and tell him it was from me?” There could be no other explanation for Tommy making such a claim. She’d never believe Tommy would deliberately try to hurt her, and he wouldn’t lie. So someone had to have misled him.

Without shifting his position Ben threw out a question. “Can you suggest a likely party?”

She stopped. She couldn’t shake the notion that Hamilton Dresden played a significant role in this situation. But should she accuse him? She knew far too well the pain of being held accountable for a wrong of which she was innocent. “I … I’m not sure.”

“Please sit down,” Ben said, gesturing toward the end of the bed.

Christina released another heavy sigh and did as he asked.

“Now, let me tell you what I’ve discovered over the past couple of days while the sheriff had you behind lock and key. Perhaps something will open up a new possibility in your mind.” He raised one hand and ticked off his findings by extending one finger at a time. “First of all, the money taken from the mercantile was not recovered in its entirety. The boy Tommy had a significant portion of it, but close to another twenty dollars is still missing. Second, the watch Creeger purchased from you is now in the possession of a man who openly brandishes it about town.”

“Yes, the sheriff told me. Ham Dresden has my father’s watch. But when I asked how Ham got it, the sheriff only said I should stop playing games and confess.” She threw her hands wide. “Confess to what?”

“Dresden claims you made it available to him for a price.”

“But I did no such thing!”

Ben offered an unconcerned nod. “And of course that will all come out in court.” He raised another finger. “Third, there has been been sabotage at the poor farm—the deliberate destruction of donated lumber.”

But that had nothing to do with the thefts. Or did it? Confused, she remained silent.

“All right then. One more point.” He flicked the fourth finger upward and fixed Christina with a steady look. “Most of the rumors circulating about town concerning your probable guilt seem to originate with one person—Mr. Hamilton Dresden. Do you know why he would be so determined to sully your name?”

Christina swallowed and chose her words carefully. “Ham Dresden resided briefly at the poor farm. He behaved inappropriately toward one of the other residents, and I had to ask him to leave. He … he didn’t take it well. So I’m sure he holds a grudge against me.” The man’s scathing remarks rang through Christina’s mind. She cringed.

Ben stroked his goatee as he considered this, a gesture Christina had already witnessed several times in their short time together. “Would resentment develop into revenge, do you think?”

Christina couldn’t suppress a short laugh. “To be perfectly honest, I think he’s too lazy to invent a plan of revenge.” Sadness settled around her heart. “My guess is he seized the opportunity to expound upon what others were saying in order to inflict pain on me.”

“Well, then, what we have here is a puzzle.” Ben rose and snagged his jacket with one finger, then tossed it over his back. He stroked the length of his goatee with two fingers. “But puzzles always have a solution, and they’re usually more obvious than we’d expect.”

He strode to the doorway, which they’d left open for the sake of propriety. Pausing, he gave Christina a reassuring smile. “Enjoy a few days of leisure, Miss Willems. Mr. Dunnigan has arranged for your meals to be delivered to the room. If you require anything—books, writing materials, additional clothing—just tell one of the employees. They’ve been instructed to check on you hourly and meet your needs. But”—he turned stern—“do not, for any reason, leave the hotel. We chose this room for its location. There is no possible means of sneaking out unseen. We must have means to verify your whereabouts at all times so you can’t be held accountable for any further illicit activities. Do you understand?”

“I understand.”

“Good.” His smile returned. “Now it’s time for me to go solve our puzzle. Good day, Miss Willems.”

The door latch clicked behind him. Christina stared at the closed door, then let her gaze drift across the rosebud wallpaper, tall bureau, washstand, and colorful quilt. Although the room was much more comfortable and cheery than the cell at the sheriff’s office, she was no less a prisoner here than she’d been there.

Levi ran his hand over the newly plastered walls. Smooth as silk. He had to admit, the men seemed to be telling the truth. They’d done too fine a job to be anything but skilled builders. And they’d done just as well on the outside. The
roof still lacked shingles, but the fire-damaged joists and sheathing had all been replaced. The walls wore four-inch cedar lap boards over one-by-twelve framing of crisp white pine. Tongue-and-groove boards formed the soffit, and they’d added a decorative molding where the soffit met the siding. Levi whistled through his teeth. No expense had been spared in reconstructing the damaged areas.

“So whaddaya think, mister? Will the owner be satisfied?” The shorter man, Tucker, smirked at Levi.

Levi stepped back and gave a nod. “More than pleased, I’d say. I didn’t realize the mission board had the funds to do the repairs.” Miss Willems wouldn’t need his donated lumber after all. The realization brought an unexpected disappointment.

“Mission board?” Tucker scratched his head. Outside the open door Grover carted off scraps of leftover lumber. “We weren’t hired by any mission board. Man from over in Kansas City—name of Dunnigan—bought the place lock, stock, an’ barrel an’ sent us over to work the very same day. Pulled us off a job there in the city an’ said he’d pay double if we could have it all done in less than a week. So we’ve been busy as a pair o’ beavers over here. Even sleepin’ in the barn so we don’t have to leave the grounds. ’Course, some big fella—comes out every day to tend the critters in the barn—near run us off ’til he saw what we was doin’. Then he seemed pleased as can be an’ didn’t give us no more trouble.”

Levi listened with half an ear. Did Miss Willems know the poor farm had been sold? Maybe that’s why he couldn’t find her. Maybe she’d left town since she no longer had a place to live. If so, he’d never see her again. And what would become of Tommy?

Pushing aside his worrisome thoughts, Levi said, “Dunnigan will be very happy with your repairs. Any idea what he plans to do with the place? Seems odd for a fellow who lives so far away in a big city to be interested in a house in a little town like Brambleville.”

“Mister, we don’t ask nosy questions. We just do our job.” Tucker inched
toward the door. “I gotta get back to work. We still need to paint inside an’ out an’ get those shingles on the roof. Dunnigan’ll be sendin’ somebody out to inspect the place on Saturday, an’ if we ain’t finished, we don’t get our double pay.”

Levi watched the man head out the door. Lock, stock, and barrel, the man had said. That must mean the house, its furnishings, and the outbuildings, too, leaving Miss Willems with nothing.

Even though he had no reason to stay any longer, desire to familiarize himself with the place she’d called home overwhelmed him. Hands in his pockets, Levi wandered the house, counting sleeping rooms as he went. Seven in all—one on the ground floor behind the kitchen, and six on the second floor. Decorative spandrels, a spindled staircase, and elaborately carved door and window trims seemed ostentatious for a poor farm, but all the space made the house a perfect place to shelter several people. He knew of no other house in or near Brambleville that would work as well for a poor farm.

So if she hadn’t already left, she’d have to leave soon. A band wrapped itself around his chest and squeezed, making it hard to breathe. He didn’t want to lose her. Tommy needed her.
He
needed her.

“Hey, mister?”

Tucker’s voice pulled Levi from his sad ponderings. He trotted down the stairs and met the man at the base. “What?”

“We just found something kind of curious. You know anything about the people who lived here … how they made a living?”

Levi shrugged. “The house has been used as a poor farm. As far as I know, the woman in charge relied on the mission board to help with expenses.”

“So she wouldn’t have lots of money pigeonholed away somewhere?”

The fine hairs on the back of Levi’s neck stood up. “I don’t think so.”

“Come look at this.” Tucker led Levi to the backyard, where Grover crouched beside the house. As Levi and Tucker approached, the man stood, revealing a gap in the stone foundation. Tucker pointed. “Grover here bumped the foundation with his ladder, an’ one o’ the stones moved. Shook us up a little
bit, you know. We don’t wanna be creatin’ more work. Then we got to lookin’, an’ that stone was held in place with nothin’ more’n mud. The cement mortar’d all been scraped away. Grover kicked at it a little bit, an’ it fell clean underneath the house. When he reached in to pull it back out, this what he found.”

Grover, a dumbfounded look on his face, thrust out his beefy hand. He clutched a stack of bills bound by a strip of brown paper. Levi took the stack. All fifties, crisp and new looking. He probably held a thousand dollars. He gaped first at the money and then at the pair of men.

Tucker nodded. “Uh-huh, that’s exactly what we thought. And there’s more, too. Grover said three or four bundles for sure. A fortune right there under the kitchen.” He shook his head. “Me ’n Grover, we ain’t never seen that much in one place. I’ll be right honest with ya—I come close to sayin’, ‘Let’s just grab this an’ skedaddle.’ But my mama raised me better’n that, God rest her soul. So we ain’t gonna take it. But seems plain foolish to leave money in such a place. Why not use a bank?”

Grover gazed solemnly at the stack. “The only reason I can think why a person wouldn’t use a bank is if he didn’t want anyone to know he had so much money.”

Levi nodded thoughtfully. The money had been well hidden. Someone wanted to keep it a secret. He marveled that the fire hadn’t burned it to a crisp. The house’s firm stone foundation had protected the treasure. But whose treasure? The question begged an answer.

Tucker tapped his finger on the thick stack. “Whaddaya think we should do with it?”

Levi chewed the inside of his cheek. If he took the money into town, the sheriff would probably think it belonged to Miss Willems. That could be true, but Levi was more inclined to believe she had no knowledge of the stash. Otherwise why would she have sold her watch? Whoever put it there probably thought it was secure, and he might come back for it. If he found it missing, he’d go straight after Miss Willems. Taking it could only cause problems.

He shoved it back into Grover’s hands. “I think we should leave it where
you found it. Try to get that rock back in the hole. I agree it looks mighty odd to keep money under the house this way, but sometimes rich folks are eccentric. Maybe the people who built the house hid that money there and then forgot about it.”

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