The Devil's Cold Dish (36 page)

“Ahh, he won't care,” Farley replied. “He's gettin' ready to go on circuit anyway.”

“You'll release Caldwell now, I hope,” Rees said.

“You know this doesn't prove nothin' about your wife,” Farley said, leaning forward so Rees could smell the constable's fetid breath. “She's still a witch in my book.”

He turned and made his way through the tall grass, “You'll live,” he said, looking down at Charlie. “The doctor will patch you up. Come on.” He helped the boy rise, pulling him none too gently to his feet. Charlie groaned.

“I told him almost everything,” David said, his voice muffled by the arm he swiped across his face. “He was as close as a brother.”

Rees turned and tugged his son to his chest. “You should know he loves you. That's partly how I guessed he was involved. Neither Sam nor Caro would have spared you, but Charlie did. Nothing happened, no petty destruction, no thefts, nothing, when you were alone at the farm. He couldn't bear to harm you.”

“So how did you know?”

“You told Charlie I'd gone off with Caldwell, didn't you?” Rees asked gently. David's face crumpled as though he would begin crying once again.

“I didn't even suspect…”

“I wondered how Farley and his men were always just one step behind. Of course Charlie was telling them. He didn't know I was here, in the cabin, but he told them he saw smoke from the chimney. Only someone on my farm could see that, so it had to be either you or Charlie. That's when I understood everything.”

Rees looked across the field at his sisters. Caroline was sobbing wildly, her face in her hands. The malice had been hers but she was innocent of everything else. And she'd lost both her husband and son to her angry resentment. It was a heavy price.

Rees's feet turned toward her of their own accord. She would always be his baby sister. He walked across the field and stretched out his arms to hold her. To comfort her. But she flinched away and with one last furious glare at her brother, she ran after Farley and her son. Rees hoped one day she would forgive him.

 

Epilogue

“I wish you would come with me,” Rees said, looking up at his son standing on the porch above him. “You'll be safe at Zion.” Two days had passed since Charlie had admitted his part in the murders. Although Rees had wanted to leave immediately for the Shaker community—and his wife and other children—Farley and Piggy Hanson had insisted on keeping Rees in Dugard and asking questions. He suspected the two men did not want to believe in either his or Lydia's innocence, despite Charlie's confession. At least the two days had enabled Rees to clean up and pack some food before setting off.

“I don't want to leave the farm,” David said, his gaze going to the barn across the drive and the fields behind it. “I'll be fine. Some of Mother's kin have offered to help me.” They had said the same things to each other several times these past few days. But they hadn't spoken about Charlie.

“But Farley…” Rees stopped. What if Farley went after David?

“He's not interested in me,” David said.

Rees sighed. “I hope not. I'll return in a week or two,” he said. David turned his gaze to his father.

“Checking up on me?” he asked with a faint smile. Rees was heartened to see this first sign of David's recovery from Charlie's betrayal.

“Yes,” Rees said, with an answering grin. “I'd stay, but…”

“Of course,” David said quickly. “Lydia may have had the baby.” Rees nodded.

“You belong here,” Rees said. Although he'd been born in Dugard and lived here most of his life, he would never be as much a part of the community as David was already.

“Say hello to Squeaker for me,” David said. “Tell him I miss him. And don't forget my wedding.”

“We will all be here,” Rees promised. “You'll talk to Simon yourself.” He stared at his son. There was so much Rees wanted to say, but he didn't know how to begin. “I know I was not here as often as I should have been,” he said. “I regret that. I will for the rest of my life. But you have become a man any father would be proud of.”

David put his hands in his pockets and took them out again. “You better let me know whether I have a brother or sister,” he said. Then he came running down the porch steps and into Rees's embrace.

“I understand better now,” David said, his voice muffled against Rees's shoulder. “About why you left.” David was almost as tall as his father, a man grown. “You'll always have a home here.” Rees hugged David to him. He had never thought he would see this day; David was not only his son but also his friend.

“I'll return,” Rees said. Although he doubted he would ever live in Dugard again, his bond with David would always draw him back for visits. “I may not have been a good father,” he said, his voice trembling as he fought to control his emotions, “but I love you.” David squeezed his father hard and then stepped back.

“You'd better get going,” he said, wiping his eyes with the backs of his hands. “You've got a long trip as it is.”

Rees nodded and inhaled a deep, shaky breath. Now that he knew he would meet Lydia and his children in just a few days, the desire to see them had become too urgent to ignore. “I'll see you soon,” he promised as he climbed into his wagon. With one last look at David, Rees drove down the drive. His heart was already lifting at the thought of seeing Lydia and his other children again. Had Lydia had the baby yet? He hoped not. He wanted to be there.

 

Author's Note

The belief in witches and witchcraft has a long history. The motivations behind accusations are many, from true belief, to hatred of women, to a desire for gain. Witchcraft, which is probably (and I think most likely) the remnants of ancient religions that worship the feminine, earthly, and masculine aspects of God, was considered anti-Christian heresy. In 1200 Pope Gregory IX authorized the killing of witches. In 1498 Pope Innocent VIII issued a declaration confirming the existence of witches and inquisition increased. Full-fledged killing of witches truly began in the 1500s and 1600s. Thousands, mainly women, were burned at the stake.

Salem is the name associated with witch hunts in the colonies. As most people know, the outbreak began in 1692 and by its end nineteen people—mainly women—as well as two dogs had been hanged, and one eighty-year-old man pressed to death with stones. (Witches were hanged, not burned, in the New World.) One hundred and fifty more were accused. Although reparations to the families were paid out beginning in the early 1700s, the bitterness broke up the community. PTSD was not a term coined at that time but I suspect the survivors lived it. The legacy of those times affected everyone. Families of those accused moved to a new village they called Salem Neck. Many of those involved changed their names. Nathaniel Hawthorne, for example, a descendant of one of the hanging judges, added the
w
to his name to distance himself from the witch trials.

Although the end of the outbreak in Salem seemed like the end of the hysteria, belief in witchcraft continued. As described in this book, Ann Lee, the spiritual heart of the Shakers, was herself accused of “blasphemy,” but that accusation took place in New York State one hundred years later, and she was released.

Accusations of witchcraft continued into the 1800s. In West Nyack, New York State, herbalist Jane (Naut) Kannif, a widow of a Scottish physician, was accused of practicing witchcraft. At a gristmill, Naut was weighed against a large brass-bound Dutch Bible on the large flour balance. Jane outweighed the Bible, was judged innocent, and set free.

But accusations of witchcraft and the murders of the women so suspected continue worldwide.

 

ALSO BY
ELEANOR KUHNS

Death in Salem

Cradle to Grave

Death of a Dyer

A Simple Murder

 

About the Author

E
LEANOR
K
UHNS
won the 2011 Minotaur Books/Mystery Writers of America First Crime Novel Competition. She lives in New York, received her master's in library science from Columbia University, and is currently the assistant director at the Goshen Public Library in Orange County, New York. You can sign up for email updates
here
.

    

 

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Contents

Title Page

Copyright Notice

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-one

Chapter Twenty-two

Chapter Twenty-three

Chapter Twenty-four

Chapter Twenty-five

Chapter Twenty-six

Chapter Twenty-seven

Chapter Twenty-eight

Chapter Twenty-nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty-one

Chapter Thirty-two

Chapter Thirty-three

Epilogue

Author's Note

Also by Eleanor Kuhns

About the Author

Copyright

 

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.

THE DEVIL'S COLD DISH
. Copyright © 2016 by Eleanor Kuhns. All rights reserved. For information, address St. Martin's Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.

www.minotaurbooks.com

Jacket design by David Baldeosingh Rotstein

Jacket photograph © Malgorzata Maj/Arcangel Images

The Library of Congress has cataloged the print edition as follows:

Names: Kuhns, Eleanor, author.

Title: The devil's cold dish / Eleanor Kuhns.

Description: First edition.|New York: Minotaur Books, 2016.|Series: Will Rees mysteries; 5