Rest in Peace (20 page)

“Yes, we’ll do that. How is everything there?”

“The stress is starting to get to some of the seniors. But they’re strong. They’ll be okay.”

“I love you, honey. I’ll be home as soon as I can.”

“I love you, too. And miss you so much. Please don’t take any risks.”

“I promise. Try not to worry.”

“Oh. I almost forgot.” I told him about Laura leaving town and the documents she’d given me.

He chuckled. “I’m proud of you for taking them to the sheriff. It was the right thing to do.”

“Yes, um, I did make copies. I’m going to try to have them translated.”

“Vickie…”

I didn’t like the exasperated tone. “I’m trying to do my part here, Benjamin, while you’re doing yours in Jefferson City.”

There was a short silence before he spoke. “Of course. You’re right. I can’t help but worry about you when I’m not there.”

“I know. Just as I worry about you. But I’m trusting God to look out for you. And you need to do the same with me.”

After we hung up, I went to the rec room and told Frank and Martin. The ladies had all gone to their rooms, so I went upstairs and knocked on each of their doors, giving them the news about the reward.

“Good,” Miss Jane said. “That should bring someone out of the woodwork. Money usually does.”

I said good night and trudged up the stairs to my third-floor apartment.

I sat in Grandma’s rocker and laid my head back. Tears streamed down my cheeks. “Father, please don’t let anyone hurt Miss Aggie. I couldn’t bear it.”

Trust Me, daughter
.

The words were so strong in my spirit they were almost audible. I stayed still and listened, but nothing else came. I picked up my Bible from the side table and turned to my grandmother’s favorite scripture.

“Trust in the
L
ORD
with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge Him, and
He
shall direct your paths.”

“I’m trying to trust You, Father. I know that You love Miss Aggie and You know exactly where she is and what is going on. I place her in Your hands once more, and this time, I’ll try to leave her there. And Lord, I’ll trust You to direct my path in this matter. In the name of Jesus. Amen.”

CHAPTER
FIFTEEN

I
reached over and shut off the clock alarm, then raised my arms above my head and stretched from my toes to my shoulders. Finally, I sat up and slipped my feet into my fuzzy slippers. The room seemed a little too dark for 6:00 a.m., so I headed to the window and threw open the curtains. Just as I’d suspected, the sky was still overcast, but at least it wasn’t pouring down rain like the day before.

I took a quick shower, threw on sweats, and headed downstairs. Miss Jane was wiping up the counter and humming a tune. She looked up and gave me a grin. I didn’t see any food, but delicious aromas filled the air.

“You’ve already cooked everything and taken it to the dining room, haven’t you?”

“Yes,” she said, hanging the dishrag on the rack. “I woke up early and couldn’t sleep, so I decided to go ahead and cook.”

“Ah, it smells delicious. Is there anything left for me to do?”

“Orange juice needs pouring. The pitcher’s already on the buffet.”

“Miss Jane.” I gave her tiny frame a squeeze then smiled. “Have I ever told you how much I appreciate all you do to help me, especially on the weekends?”

“As a matter of fact, you have. Many times.” She swished her hand at me. “Now go pour that juice. I hear the gang coming down the stairs.”

I laughed and did as bidden. The seniors ambled in and began filling their plates at the sideboard, a constant chatter going on.

“Yep, I hope Whiggins don’t preach two hours like he did last week.” Martin frowned as he set his plate and juice on the table and sat.

“He didn’t preach two hours. It was only an hour,” Miss Georgina scolded, then added, “The announcements took up a lot of time.”

“I like Reverend Whiggins. He tells it like it is.” Miss Jane had come in from the kitchen and stood by the sideboard.

“Yeah, or tells it the way he thinks it is,” Martin muttered.

The three of them went to the same church, and they’d been having similar discussions since their new preacher had taken the position last spring.

Miss Jane grabbed a plate and filled it, then sat at the end of the table. “All I can say is, if you don’t like him, change churches.”

“I just might do that,” Martin retorted.

Okay, time for a little intervention. I turned to Miss Evalina. “How do you like House of Prayer?”

She and Frank had started attending the small, new church on the outskirts of town a few weeks ago.

She patted her lips with her napkin, her eyes alight. “Oh Victoria, it is absolutely wonderful! The pastor is very involved in missions. You know, at one time I thought of becoming a missionary.”

“Yes, I believe I do remember you mentioning it.”

We got through breakfast with no more squabbles, and I breathed a sigh of relief when the seniors went upstairs to finish getting ready for church.

I loaded the dishwasher and cleaned off the table and sideboard; then I went upstairs to get ready.

I hoped Martin wasn’t going to be cantankerous all day. I couldn’t help but be glad he’d be having dinner with his son. Of course, Miss Jane had seemed a little skittish, too. She and Miss Georgina and I were going to the steak house in Caffee Springs after church. We planned to meet back at the lodge so we could check for messages from Benjamin and Corky before we left.

As I drove to church, I prayed for Reverend Whiggins, that his sermon would be alive and not too long, both for his sake and his congregation’s.

After a very uplifting message from Pastor Carl, I drove back to the lodge. There was one message waiting from Benjamin. He only said he’d call back later.

I changed into jeans and a sweater and waited for Miss Jane and Miss Georgina to arrive. An hour later, we pulled into the parking lot at the steak house.

A western-clad server led us to a booth in the back dining room, her fringed shirt and skirt weaving us safely through heavy-laden trays borne skyward by the servers. Western music, not too loud, serenaded us as we sat on the paddedseats. I sat across from the ladies, and we gave our drink orders then glanced at our menus.

A few minutes later, our server brought our glasses of iced tea and took our orders.

“Yum. It smells good in here.” Miss Georgina closed her eyes and inhaled. “I love the smoky smell. It reminds me of Silver Dollar City.”

Miss Jane rolled her eyes.
“Everything
reminds you of Silver Dollar City.”

“That’s not true,” Miss Georgina retorted. “Just smoke and stuff.”

“Humph.” Miss Jane tilted her head as if she’d made her point.

Our food arrived in the nick of time. My small filet was cooked to perfection. The ladies had each ordered chickenfried steak.

Miss Georgina eyed my steak and sighed. “Oh, to have my real teeth again.”

“Why?” Miss Jane snapped. “I can eat steak very well with my dentures.”

“Then, why don’t you ever order one?”

Good for you, Miss Georgina. Stand up for yourself
. Miss Jane was frowning at her.

Before she could speak, I threw her a bright smile. “How would you like to stop at Pennington House on the way home?”

“I didn’t think you’d ever ask,” Miss Jane said. “Let’s go.”

I laughed. “Let’s eat first, okay?”

“That’s what I meant, silly. Let’s eat fast so we can leave.”

A short time later we were on the blacktop back road thatled from Caffee Springs to Cedar Chapel. It also led to the uphill dirt road that would take us to Pennington House. Miss Jane sat beside me, watching closely for the turnoff.

I braked at the same time I heard Miss Georgina’s gasp from the backseat.

Instead of the broken wooden sign that had marked the road for years, a black-and-white scrolled piece of art swung from a black iron hanger. The sign boasted the words P
ENNINGTON HOUSE
.

“When did they get the new sign?” Miss Georgina voiced my thoughts.

“This is why she didn’t want any of us here until the grand opening,” Miss Jane said, her voice soft. “She wanted to surprise us.”

“I’m surprised all right,” Miss Georgina said. “Look at the road.”

I turned and looked up the newly blacktopped spiral that wound its way to the top of the hill.

“Maybe we shouldn’t go,” Miss Georgina said with a little sob. “It almost feels like sacrilege.”

“Don’t talk nonsense.” Miss Jane’s voice trembled. “We need to search the grounds and riverbank just in case.”

I took a deep breath and stepped on the gas pedal, turning onto the road. I was torn, agreeing with them both, but since we were here, I couldn’t let the chance go by. Although I didn’t really believe we’d find Miss Aggie here, I didn’t want the idea lingering in our minds. This was probably the best way to prevent future regret.

As we wound our way up through the forest of oaks and cedars that surrounded Pennington, a myriad of thoughts raced through my mind. Miss Aggie, dirty but saucy as ever, standing in the room where she’d been imprisoned by Wolf and the Whitly boys. Benjamin grabbing a hatchet to bang down the door where the seniors and I had been locked in. That was, until Corky stopped him and handed him the key to the door—the tunnel where a murdered man had been discovered. And the day Miss Jane and I found the extension of the secret tunnel and stumbled our way into the cave, which had probably been used to hold smuggled goods.

So many secrets. Many of them still unsolved. I couldn’t help but wonder how many more secrets this ancient house and grounds might hold.

We rounded the last curve, and there before us, in the midst of a lush, green lawn, stood Pennington House. But an exciting and new Pennington House. The circular drive now sported cobblestones, and an iron hitching post stood by the front walk. The building itself had been restored to what must have been its former glory, before years of neglect had taken their toll.

“Oh Jane. Look.” Miss Georgina’s voice held awe.

I glanced at Miss Jane. Tears streamed down her face.

“It looks just like it did when we were girls.” Miss Jane’s voice, too, held wonderment as she almost choked out her words.

The tall windows gleamed like diamonds, and the turret, which had fallen into dangerous disrepair, stood like a king’s sentinel overlooking the estate.

“Sorry to spoil your surprise, Miss Aggie,” I whispered. “But I promise we won’t go inside.” I opened the car door and stepped onto the cobbled stones.

A movement caught my eye, and I looked over by the side of the house. If anything had been there, it was gone now. Probably a squirrel or rabbit. But roiling unease bubbled in my stomach.

Suddenly a shot rang out. Miss Georgina shrieked.

“Get down,” I yelled to the ladies, who were on the other side of the car, thankful we had our open doors to duck behind. I slid inside the car and got down as low as possible. “Get in, but keep down.”

Miss Georgina wriggled onto the back floorboard and pulled the door shut.

Miss Jane eased into her seat and slammed the door, all the time leaning toward me. “What are we going to do?” she whispered.

“You stay down low. I’ll try to turn the car around without getting my head shot off.”

“Please, be careful.”

I peeked over the steering wheel and didn’t see anything. Maybe whoever shot at us was gone, but I didn’t want to find out, to my sorrow, that I was wrong.

I scrunched my arm around and reached for the door handle. When I’d slammed it shut, I turned the key. As soon as the car started, I slipped the gear into D
RIVE
. I sat up just enough to see over the steering wheel and stepped on the gas, guiding the car around the circle drive and down the road, my eyes on the rearview mirror.

My heart lurched as an unfamiliar car shot from around the house and raced toward us.

“Victoria! A car’s chasing us. Step on it!” Miss Jane shrieked.

“Get down!” I stepped on the gas and raced down the twisting road, with the other car close behind.

“Hurry, Victoria, he’s gaining on us!” Miss Jane shouted.

Something ricocheted against the blacktop in front of us, and I heard the sound of something that could only be a bullet whiz by my window. Something pinged against the top of the van. In the mirror I saw the car behind us swerve, then straighten.

“Is he shooting at us?” Miss Georgina screeched. She was as flat on the floor as she could get, and her head was covered with the crocheted afghan she always kept in the van in cold weather. I hoped she didn’t think it would protect her from a bullet.

“God, help us.” My teeth clenched as the van careened around the curves of the road.

Miss Georgina began to pray, too.

“I can’t see his face,” Miss Jane yelled. “He’s wearing a ski mask.”

“Miss Jane. Please get down before you get hit.”

The wheels spun out as I turned onto the main road without slowing down.

“He turned the other way. He’s not chasing us anymore.” Miss Jane flopped back and laid her head on the headrest, breathing hard.