The Final Reveille: A Living History Museum Mystery (19 page)

I shook my head. “No. We'll have to talk about it. We will have to find you a better sleeping arrangement. You can't sleep in a barn for the rest of your life.”

“I don't mind it.” His voice was low.

“You sleep there in the winter?” Chase gaped at him.

“The hay and animals kept me warm enough,” Jason said as if it wasn't a big deal.

I shook my head. I couldn't fathom sleeping in the barn on a cold Ohio night. Jason could have easily succumbed to hypothermia.

“Or if it got really cold, I'd sleep in the visitor center.”

“You don't have a key,” I said. “How did you get in there?”

Jason turned bright red. “I can get in.”

I stood on shaky legs. Chase jumped off of the trunk and steadied me. “I'm all right.” I hobbled toward Jason. “Thank you, Jason. You may have saved my life.”

He nodded. His face was an even deeper shade of red. “Can I go back to the barn now?”

“Sure, but we are going to need to talk about your living arrangements. You can't avoid the conversation forever. I'm pretty persistent.”

Chase snorted when I said that. Jason nodded and left through the house's front door. I wrinkled my brow, wondering how my attacker had gotten into Barton House despite its padlock. I guessed if Jason could break into the visitor center, the newest structure, there wasn't any building in the Farm that was truly secure. I wavered on my feet; standing took more out of than I expected. I gritted my teeth. I wasn't going to the hospital. The room was beginning to spin again.

Chase lowered me back onto the chair and touched my back. “Sit until the dizziness passes.”

I did what I was told and took some deep breaths. As much as I hated the idea that Hayden was with Krissie, I didn't know what I would have done if I'd known he waiting for me at the cottage. I didn't want him to see me like this.

“We have to talk to my uncle and tell him what happened.”

“No,” I said, raising my head too quickly. I moaned. Big mistake.

“What do you mean
no
?” Chase stared down at me with folded arms.

“There's been a murder, a fatal accident, and now an attempted murder.” I ticked each event off on my fingers. “The chief knows about the first two. I'm afraid if he knows about the third, he'll close the reenactment down completely and we'll never know the truth. He's not going to look for it. He already thinks the case is closed.”

“Won't this prove to him that it's not?”

“I don't know. Will it?” I asked. “He's your uncle.”

Chase frowned, which I took as my answer. “Is the truth worth being knocked out and left for dead?” he asked.

“I wasn't left for dead. If whoever did this wanted to, they could have killed me while I was unconscious.” The idea made my head swim. I bent over my knees again but kept talking. “Like you said, this was a warning.”

He grunted. “That didn't work.”

“Nope.” I struggled to my feet again. “I have to save the Farm.” I wobbled.

“Hold still.” Chase said, and he put one arm behind my legs and another behind my back.

“What are you doing?” I demanded as he scooped me off of the chair like I was a doll.

“I'm taking you back across the street. You can barely stand up straight. There's no way you can walk over yourself and it'll take too long to run to the visitor center for a wheelchair.”

I kicked my legs. “This is so embarrassing. I can't let you carry me back into the reenactment in front of the all the soldiers.”

“First of all, it's after midnight, so most of the soldiers are asleep and the rest are drunk. Second of all, you don't have a choice and are far too weak to fight me on it.”

I ground my teeth. My anger at Chase helped clear my head like nothing else could.

thirty

Chase carried me across
the street and after a while, I stopped fighting him. I was just making the trip take longer.

He chuckled when I stopped kicking. “See. It's not so bad, is it?”

I let my full weight fall against his chest. It wasn't so bad, but I wasn't going to tell him that.

“I'm going to take you straight to the hospital.”

I kicked him hard with my heel.

“Ouch!” he cried. “I'm really getting tired of that.”

“I'm not going to the hospital.”

“Okay, if you are going to be so stubborn, I'll take you back to your cottage, but I'm going to stay with you.”

“Stay with me?” I asked. “In my home?”

I felt his shoulders rise in a shrug. “That's my offer. Take it or leave it. But if you don't agreed to my terms, I will take you to the hospital even if I have to call your dad and Laura to back me up.”

“You wouldn't,” I said.

“How do you know?” He winked down at me.

I glared at him. “Fine, but we have to stop at the visitor center for my purse. My house keys are in there.”

“Okay,” he agreed with a smile.

When we reached the visitor center, Chase set me on a bench outside. I gave him my employee keys from my skirt pocket. “It's in the second drawer of my desk. My office is always unlocked.” I might want to rethink leaving my office unlocked from now on since I knew Jason could get into the visitor center anytime he wanted.

“Got it.” Chase disappeared around the side of the building to the employee entrance.

The camps were quiet. That was good. Maybe no one saw Chase carry me across the street. As far as I was concerned, no one needed to know about it.

Chase had left his battery-powered lantern with me. I held it up and the light reflected off of something shiny in a huge potted plant by the visitor center's main doors.

Stifling a groan, I stood up and hobbled over to the potted plant. My mouth fell open when I saw what was sitting in the dirt. My cell phone and my radio.

Chase came around of the visitor center with my purse over his shoulder. He carried it like he wore a purse every day.

I held up the radio and cell phone. “Look what I found.”

“So?” Chase asked.

I frowned. “I had them when I crossed the street. Whoever hit me over the head must have taken them and put them here for me to find.” I shivered.

“So they didn't want you dead, they just wanted to hurt you really bad. And they didn't want you to lose your phone permanently.”

Somehow that didn't make me feel better.

Chase bent down as if he were going to pick me up again.

I stepped away and smoothed my dress, which was beyond saving after my time in the root cellar. “I can walk there myself.”

“You'll fall over.”

“No, I won't.” I stumbled.

He whistled. “I don't know if I have ever met a woman as stubborn as you before.”

I raised my chin. “I take that as a compliment.”

He wrapped my left arm around his waist. “You should. Because I like it.”

I frowned.

The trip to the cottage took much longer than it would have had I let Chase carry me, but I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of asking him to pick me up.

The cottage was dark. Dad wasn't back yet from his party. Knowing my father, the festivities could go into the wee hours of the morning. As soon as we stepped through the white picket fence that surrounded the yard, Tiffin began barking his head off.

Still holding onto me, Chase asked, “Should I be worried about your dog?”

I laughed. “No. Tiffin isn't much of a guard dog. He's never met a person he didn't like.”

I unlocked the door. When I turned on the overhead light, I saw both Tiffin and Frankie waiting for me. Tiffin shook his tailless rump and hopped in place, barely able to contain his joy about seeing me. I felt bad for cooping the poor guy up so long in the house. Usually, he has a pretty free range on the Farm after hours, but with the reenactors here, I felt it better to keep him in the house at night.

Frankie sat beside him and narrowed his one good eye. He kneaded his claws into the rug.

“Okay,” Chase said as he stepped into the house. “Forget the dog. Should I be worried about the cat?”

“Yes. That's Frankie. And you should always worry about Frankie.”

“Duly noted.”

I found myself smiling. “Frankie is Hayden's cat, and Hayden is the only one he loves. He tolerates the rest of us for my son's sake, but don't cross him.” I realized that Chase still had his arm wrapped around me. I slipped out of his grasp and walked over the couch.

Chase sidestepped Frankie and came into the living room too.

I looked down at my skirt. The dress was mud streaked. I hoped all that was on it was mud. I knew I should go upstairs and change, but not at the moment.

“Hey.” Chase shook me. “Don't close your eyes. You can't fall asleep.”

“I'm just resting my eyes.” I murmured. My eyes remained closed.

“Yeah, right.” He shook my shoulder a little more forcefully. “Wake up.”

I opened one eye and suspected that I looked a lot like Frankie. “There's something I don't understand. What about the stolen canteen and musket that Wesley supposedly took from the Confederate camp? How is that connected to the murder?”

“It's not. It was a prank. One of the Confederate privates hid the canteen and other items in Wesley's tent just to cause trouble. After Wesley died, the guy went to my uncle and made a full confession. I think he did it half because he felt bad that Wesley died and half because he was afraid that his fingerprints were all over Wesley's tent.”

Another dead end. My head lulled to the side. I was so tired.

“Hey, you need to wake up.” Chase shook my shoulder.

I squinted at him. “I'm going to ask the police about your alibi. You know that, don't you?”

He smiled. “I wouldn't expect anything less.”

I frowned at that. Maybe Chase was telling the truth about sleeping at the firehouse since he wasn't concerned about me confirming it. “I'll stay awake if you tell me how you know Maxwell.”

He sat beside me couch. “Let's not get into that.”

“You want me to stay awake, don't you?” I opened my eyes.

“Fine. But I'm going to need coffee to tell this story and if I'm going to be able to stay awake to make sure you don't go to sleep. Care if I make some?”

I shook my head. Ouch. “No,” I said. I needed to remember that moving my head was a bad idea.

The main floor of the cottage was just one big room, so I could see him from my post on the sofa. “There's coffee in the freezer. Sugar should be on the counter and creamer is in the refrigerator door.”

He smiled around the freezer door. “Don't worry. I got this. I know my way around a kitchen.”

He started the coffee. I calmed as I heard the soothing sound of water bubbling in the machine. He leaned on the kitchen counter.

“So, how do you know Maxwell?” I asked.

He opened cupboards, and when he found the right one, removed two mugs. He held them up. “Batman mugs?”

I frowned. “I have a son.”

He grinned. “I like it. You're full of surprises, Ms. Cambridge.”

“You're avoiding my question.”

“Yep.” He turned and filled the mugs with coffee, then added cream and sugar to both. He carried the mugs over to me on the couch and handed me the one with Robin on it.

“How did you know I like cream and sugar in my coffee?”

He laughed. “So suspicious. I could just tell you were a cream and sugar girl.”

I frowned into my coffee, which was just how I liked it. I found that annoying.

He chuckled. “And when you told me where everything was, you told the location of the cream and sugar, from which I concluded, rightly, that you liked both in your coffee.”

“Oh.” I sipped from the mug. It was perfect. “Now, answer my question.”

He sat on the opposite end of the couch and turned toward me. “I knew Maxwell because he swindled me on a business deal.”

“I thought you were an EMT.” I set the mug on the coffee table and pulled a blanket off the back of the couch and wrapped it around my shoulders, dirty dress be damned.

“I am, but I inherited a nice nest egg from my parents. Both of them died in their sixties and I got all the money they had socked away for their retirement. My father was thrifty and worried about having enough when he retired.” He stared into coffee. “He worked hard and never got to enjoy it.”

“I'm sorry about your parents.”

He wouldn't meet my eyes. “Thank you. They were good, honest people. My father would be disappointed with me and what I've done with everything they had saved.”

“What was that?” I asked. I was no longer feeling the least bit tired.

He frowned. “I knew Maxwell from charity fundraisers at the firehouse for the paramedics, and he told me once that if I ever came into money, he would help me invest it, which would triple my return. When I got the nest egg from my parents, I called him. That was four years ago.”

Four years ago
, I thought. That's when Maxwell and Jamie Houck bought the eyesore property on Kale Road. I cupped my mug in my hands. “You invested your money in the mall that wasn't on Kale Road.”

He nodded. “It was stupid and something my father would have never dreamed of doing. Dad never took risks with anything.”

“How much did you lose?”

“All of it,” he said matter-of-factly.

I winced. “Can you get any of it back?”

He shook his head. “I hired a lawyer and tried to sue Maxwell, but he was too powerful. His lawyer crushed mine. I guess t
here was this tiny clause in the investment contract that I didn't read or fully understand that said if things with Kale Road went south, Maxwell and his partners weren't responsible.”

I sat up straighter. “So you have a good motive for murder.”

He shrugged as if I'd said something about the weather. “Sure, I did, but that was four years ago. If I was going to kill Maxwell, I would have done it four years ago when I was furious about it. Now, I've accepted it. I don't like it, but I've learned from it.”

“So do you know Jamie Houck? He's reenacting her under a different name.”

“No. I never met Jamie, only Maxwell. I can't say I really want to talk to him about any of this, though.”

“Thank you for telling me,” I murmured.

He smiled. “You're easy to talk to, even if you are prickly at times.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Prickly?”

The front door opened and my father waltzed in. He was still wearing his ghost costume and clearly running high on a great performance. He pulled up short when he saw me on the couch. “Kelbel, you didn't have to wait up for me.” He spotted Chase. “Oh, you're not alone. You have a man in the house.”

Chase shot out his seat like someone had jabbed a pin into his backside. When he did, my father seemed to notice Chase's sweatpants and T-shirt. That somehow made it worse.

“Dad, this is Chase Wyatt. He's one of the reenactors.”

“Oh!” my father said, sounding and looking like a ghost.

“Sir, this isn't what it looks like.”

“What does it look like?” my father asked.

Good question.

“I had an accident in the village after Laura brought me home from the play. Chase was sitting with me to make sure I didn't fall asleep.”

“Why wouldn't you want to fall asleep?”

Chase quickly explained about finding me in the root cellar and about my injuries. I was grateful when he didn't mention Jason.

“Oh, my,” Dad said. He stepped forward and extended his hand to Chase. He shook it and then yanked Chase into a hug. “Thank you for saving my daughter.”

Chase appeared taken aback for the first time since I had met him. “You're welcome.”

Dad released him. “How much longer does she need to stay up?”

“It's probably safe for her to go to sleep now.”

“How is she?” Dad asked Chase.

“She'll be fine. I don't really think she was in any real danger of a concussion. She was able to tell me her name and what happened. She wasn't disoriented at all.”

I gritted my teeth as I listened to this.

Chase continued, “It's been almost four hours since she was hit on the head.”

“What was she hit with?”

Tiffin whimpered and licked the hand that hung loosely at my side.

Chase opened his mouth to answer.

“Hey, I can answer for myself,” I snapped. “I might not be able to stand up straight, but my mouth isn't broken.”

Dad grinned. “Oh good, they didn't knock the spunk out of you. I would hate for you to lose your spunk.” He lowered his voice. “She got that from her mother. My Pamela could sass anyone.”

“She still has more than her share. I'm not sure what I think about it being heredity.”

I narrowed my eyes at Chase, but considering my woozy condition, I think it just looked like my eyes were rolling back into my head. “I was hit on the back of the head with a brick.”

“How do you know it was a brick?” Chase asked.

“It felt like a brick.” I stood. “And if Chase says I can go to sleep, I'm ready for bed.”

“Let's get you to your room before you keel over,” Dad said.

Dad and Chase helped me up the stairs. Again, I was thankful that Hayden wasn't there to see me. I prayed that Eddie didn't find out about this. It would just be more ammunition for him and Krissie, the teenaged bride, to take Hayden away from me.

Dad flicked on the overhead light in my room. I covered my eyes. He turned it off and switched on my bedside lamp. “Better?”