Some Saints Prey (Madeline Donovan Mysteries Book 4)

by Madison Kent

  He replied, "Perhaps it is as the inspector said, there was some thievery going on, and he was a part of it. Those artifacts stolen were worth thousands of dollars."

  Austin added, "It could make sense. What if Lonnie knew about it and was attempting to get Clifford to stop, and they fought, and he accidentally drowned?"

  "Then we're right back where we started. Who killed Lonnie? Does anyone think he poisoned himself? Oliver asked.

  Hugh commented, "The person that pushed Jeffrey could be responsible."

  They all talked for several minutes feeling they had moved closer to a solution. A jubilation of consensus brought forth another round of drinks.

  Austin said, "No sense in venturing out into this wretched storm. Can I interest anyone in a game of chess?"

  "I will," said Madeline.

  The others wandered away, taking seats by the fireplace and talking.

  "Madeline, you were the only one who remained quiet."

  "Murder's a terrible thing, Austin, not so easily explained away. I can't believe that those precious lives will never again see the light of day, and all for the sale of some religious items. Unless someone believed the artifacts were so valuable that they were worth killing over.

  "It seems anyone that might have had a motive, is fairly well off and not in need of money. It just doesn't ring true."

  Madeline stopped there, knowing that even dashing Austin might be a suspect, and thought she should not reveal any more of her suspicions. Even if he were innocent, he might inadvertently say something to the person who was guilty, without realizing it.

  The rest of the evening was uneventful―everyone conversing about the ball on Saturday.

  When they left, the winds had picked up, with the palm fronds violently flapping in the air. The rain beat down so ferociously that their clothing became saturated despite the carriage's protection. Frederick rushed home as fast as he could maneuver in the mud-drenched roads.

  Reggie had lit the fireplaces for them, and Hugh asked Madeline if she would return downstairs after she had changed, for some tea by the firelight.

  She gladly accepted, wishing to speak with him.

  By the time Madeline and Hugh sat down together, the house was dark as everyone had retired.

  She said, "There's a certain serenity in the midnight hour, with no footsteps about. Hopefully, none on the grounds either."

  "I know you well enough to know your silence at the St. Fleur's meant you didn't go along with our theories. Honestly, I didn't either. I suppose I wanted them to think I was on their side, put them all at ease, in case one is guilty."

  "Good. I was hoping you might be acting. I was thinking about something this evening. There's a man called Fitz who lives down by the water in an old shack. I don't know why I didn't think of it before. I'd like to see him. He may have noticed something during my attack. He only lives a stone's throw away from where it happened. He was Jeffrey's friend, a sweet, old soul, a somewhat of a hermit."

  "Sounds like someone I'd enjoy meeting."

  "He is."

  Hugh said, "There's no window seat, but the fireplace will do nicely. I enjoy our midnight talks. It's something private that belongs just to us."

  "Yes, it helps me to sleep. It calms me after we talk and makes me think that everything will resolve itself. It's just a fairy tale, but sometimes I need that, that belief that people are better, and not worse than what we think of them."

  "I'm afraid that in this case, we may find more tainted people than not."

  "I know. I know. I wish I could see my Father right now. He always seems to know what to say."

  Hugh said, "May I take his place for a moment and say, go on as you have. The killer has made some mistakes, and inevitably will make more. Stay strong for your friend's sake."

  "Yes, we'll see Fitz tomorrow―that will be a pleasant time. He is unspoiled.

  "Good-night, my friend."

  Chapter Thirteen

  Old Fitz

  In the morning, there remained a light mist still drizzling upon the wilting variety of peach, red and yellow hibiscus flowers that adorned one side of the estate. Even then, she thought the array a pleasing site.

  Madeline was awake by five and was tempted to knock on Hugh's door to arouse him. Instead, she trampled on the wet ground, past the drenched hibiscus and toward the area where they saw the monk. She knew the intruder would not be there, but something drew her back to the site.

  She walked around the area, brushing the rain from her eyes and trying to retrace the path Hugh had gone down in pursuit of the monk. She pulled back branches and kicked under stones, but there was nothing left behind.

  By the time she returned, Hugh was drinking tea in the kitchen.

  "Madeline, you're soaked. What took you out so early this morning?"

  "I went back to the site. I don't know―something's been bothering me this morning, pushing me to get going. I looked around but didn't see anything, just a multitude of armadillo holes. I thought perhaps the person may have slipped on one, or left an imprint, but I didn't see anything. Well, there was this one thing, but it seemed of no consequence―just a jagged piece of silver metal. It could have easily been blown out there from one of the construction sites."

  She put it back in her satchel and said, "I know it's early, but I'd like to see Fitz. I don't want to go empty handed. Would you like to help me bake some biscuits, and brew him some hot coffee? There must be some container we can borrow that will keep it, at least lukewarm, till we get there."

  Hugh made the coffee, while Madeline changed into dry clothing, piling her hair high on her head, with a few ribbons to hold it in place.

  They flicked flower at each other and laughed while cooking. The Montgomery's cook was up by now and chuckled when she saw them. They told her what they were doing, and she kindly offered a few tips on how to achieve fluffy biscuits and also said she would clean up. She helped them prepare a basket, which included embroidered napkins, and several newly cut roses for ambiance.

  "The old boy should like it," Cook said.

  "Do you know Fitz?" asked Madeline.

  Mrs. Blake replied, "Oh, everyone knows him. W saw him often, until after his wife died, and then he became a recluse."

  "Thank you for your help, especially for finding us a vessel for the roasted beans. I'm sure a good, hot cup of coffee will be welcome on a day like this. We'll be leaving in a minute," said Madeline.

  The rain had stopped, but the dark clouds remained, along with a strong wind. Frederick didn't seem to mind taking them on this early morning jaunt. He also brought a canister of coffee with him and sang as he drove them along―content even in the rain.

  Madeline snuggled closer to Hugh. There was something ominous about the sky that made her suddenly feel sad. She thought it strange how weather could impact one's mood, as this morning it certainly was affecting her.

  When they arrived at the pier, Frederick strode down to where the fishermen were. Madeline and Hugh walked towards the old man's cabin. She wondered about Fitz and how he got by on days like this, and if his rickety cabin kept the rain out.

  "Hugh, there's the cabin. He says he's happy out here, but it must be lonely for him."

  "Sometimes people get accustomed to loneliness; it becomes a warm blanket they wrap around themselves. I have an uncle who no longer even seeks the company of the human race. He has two dogs, and that's enough for him. He does not even attend Christmas festivities. It makes the family sad, but that's the way he wants it, and there's no changing him."

  "Fitz is such a friendly man; I can't imagine him doing that."

  They tapped on his door, calling his name out.

  A ragged, hoarse voice called out, "Come in―come in, please help me."

  The door had been left unlocked, and they hurried inside to see Fitz lying in the corner of the room on his bed.

  "Madeline, thank God you've come. I've prayed someone would find me. I didn't think I had much time lef
t."

  The old man appeared wan, starved, and ten years older looking than when she had last seen him.

  "Hugh, the coffee."

  She found a dirty cup on a shelf, cleaned it, and poured coffee into it. Madeline held his head up, and he sipped the liquid as if he only had the strength of a baby. His lips were cracked, and she could see from his swollen eyes, he'd been crying. She thought He'd probably giving up hope of being found alive―oh, poor Fitz, we're here for you now.

  "Madeline, his foot!"

  A blood-stained white cloth, torn into long pieces, was wrapped around the injured man's foot. The strips had fallen loose, and white puss oozed from under his arch.

  Fitz was trembling, and Hugh took his coat and wrapped it around him.

  Madeline said, "Can you tolerate food? We've brought some biscuits with us."

  He replied, "I'll try."

  He took only a few bites, then waved away the food.

  "You need immediate medical attention.

  "Hugh, would you please get Frederick, and maybe a fisherman or two that might volunteer to carry Fitz to our carriage?"

  "I'll be back, and with as many men as I can," said Hugh.

  "Oh, my dear, Fitz, are you strong enough to tell me what happened?"

  "In a moment―may I have a little more coffee?"

  Madeline stroked his face, gave him coffee, and rubbed his hands. All she could do at the moment was try to comfort him.

  Within no time at all, Hugh returned with a handful of willing men.

  They carried Fitz as carefully as they could, aware of the discomfort he was feeling, as he winced at their touch.

  There was a blanket in the carriage, and she wrapped it around him. His hand went to the back of his head to rub it, and for the first time, Madeline noticed the gash there.

  He said, "I'm so grateful that you came. I prayed someone would hear my calls for help, but I think my voice was too weak to carry. My injuries prevented me from leaving the cabin, I tried several times, but I was too dizzy. I was able to live on some dried meats, a basin of water, and two bottles of wine brought to me by Mr. Matthew.

  "It all started the day I saw you in the ocean. I was collecting twigs for a fire when I first heard you call out.

  "I didn't know it was you at first. I just saw the figure of a woman struggling in the water. Then I saw the auburn hair, not many a woman I remember seeing in these parts with that color hair.

  "I went in after you. I'm a strong swimmer, swim every day it doesn't rain, and I started out. But, these waters are filled with predators, large and small. I wasn't a few feet into the water when something clamped onto my foot. The blood from the wound surfaced immediately. I had to return to shore, and sure enough, they were two large puncture wounds on my foot. I think it might have been a blue crab, maybe even a lobster, but it was something that had claws.

  "On my way back to the cabin, I was looking around, seeing if I could flag someone down to help you. I saw a boat in the water, and returned to the shore, and began waving them to where you were. I was returning to my cabin, to bind the wound, when someone struck me in the back of the head. I don't know how long I laid there before I woke, but I could only crawl back inside. After that, I've just been lying here hoping someone would come, calling out whenever I heard a noise.

  "I've cleaned the wound best I can, and put a little balm on it, but it's been bothering me more than my head."

  Madeline said, "We're almost at the Montgomery's. We'll get Dr. Johnson immediately, and you'll be on your way to recovery soon. I promise. We'll take care of you."

  Fitz smiled at her, and then closed his eyes, instantly falling asleep. It was as if he had held out for as long as he could, and now could finally rest.

  Not wishing to disturb him, Madeline and Hugh remained silent for the duration of the ride home.

  Madeline went out ahead to find Reggie and any other male servants who were available to assist in bringing Fitz into the house.

  When she opened the door, her heart raced, and she could feel a tear roll down her cheek. Standing in the foyer were her father and Jonathan Franks.

  "Father, Oh, Father, it must be a miracle that has brought you here. And, Jonathan, my dearest friend, it's so good to see you.

  "Although I want to hear how you came to be here―there is an urgent matter that requires both of your services. We have brought an injured man with us, who is in desperate need of a physician."

  Her father kissed her on the cheek and ran out to the carriage. Before following, Jonathan touched her shoulder, and said, "Madeline, your life has become quite extraordinary."

  Emily and Edgar appeared, and Madeline told them about Fitz.

  "I'll have the cook prepare chicken soup, and we'll have ham for dinner, something substantial.

  "Your father came just in time. I hope you will not be angry. I know you're a grown woman, but I sent for him after your incident at the pier. The person may have killed you, and I had to tell him. Your friend, Mr. Franks, accompanied your father. They've just arrived and were telling me about their journey when you came in.

  "First things first, let's take care of the sick man. I'll get Charlotte to open up one of the guests room."

  The men carried in Fitz, and her father said, "Let's not move him upstairs just yet. I'd like to take a look at the foot.

  "Mr. Montgomery, is there a room downstairs we may take him?"

  He replied, "Of course, take him to the drawing room. I will send a tray of sandwiches and drinks in.

  "Dr. Donovan, please let me know if there is anything you need?"

  The doctor replied, "If you could have someone boil a pot of water―I will need some sterilized water to clean his wounds."

  "Of course," Edgar replied.

  Madeline, Hugh, and Jonathan followed the doctor and his patient into the drawing room. She wanted to embrace her father and tell him how happy she was he was there, but that would have to wait until after he attended to Fitz. Surrounded by all the men, who meant the most to her in the world―she felt renewed and up to the task of catching a murderer.

  Charlotte brought soup for the patient, and he said, "I've not been treated so well since my wife was alive. I thank you all you've saved my life."

  Her father added, "Mr. Fitzgerald, I believe you may be right about that. You've got a serious foot infection. I think your head wound is healing nicely, but you will need a few weeks recovery time. If the Montgomery's are agreeable, I believe you should stay here."

  Emily was sitting next to him, feeding him the soup, as if the old man were a baby. He didn't object and looked to be enjoying the attention.

  Emily said, "Of course, he will stay here―for as long as it takes for him to be back on his feet."

  Father turned to Madeline and said, "My darling girl, let me look at you. You don't look half-bad for someone who nearly drowned, and I heard this news from Emily, and not from you.

  "You've given me more gray hair if that's possible. Come, and sit by me. We'll have a brandy."

  Hugh and Jonathan joined them, the latter saying, "Truly, it is good to see you well. I was in Chicago on business, when my office notified me of your father's call. I immediately took a week's leave of absence to accompany Dr. Donovan here."

  The doctor added, "I thought this was the respite you so deserved―a time to swim in the ocean, and sunbathe.

  "You must tell us all the news. I had planned on a bath, and to stretch my legs with a good hike after our trip, but that can wait."

  Emily and Edgar stood watch over Fitz, and Madeline and Hugh took turns narrating the story of the missing men, and all that had transpired.

  Jonathan said, "It's curious that your Inspector Davis has not been the driving force behind the murders, but almost seems to have become an impediment. I'd certainly like to meet him."

  Madeline said, "Saturday is the Confederate Ball, and I can't imagine that he wouldn't be at the St. Fleur's annual tribute to the grand old South."
/>   Her father said, "I'm relieved that you are well, and that we can help that kind man, Mr. Fitzgerald.

  "Madeline, tomorrow, you will have both Jonathan and Hugh to assist in tracking down whoever is doing these heinous acts."

  Chapter Fourteen

  1860-A Good Year

  At breakfast the next morning, the doctor reported, "I've looked in on Fitz, and his appearance has already improved. He was alert, and the color has returned to his face. He was eagerly awaiting his breakfast meal and hoped Charlotte would bring him a strong cup of coffee."

  Emily said, "Who on earth would hurt a sweet gentleman like that? As much as I would like to agree with Inspector Davis and his continuous reports that conclude that these incidents are accidental, it more and more seems his theories are unlikely."

  "Now, Emily, let's not be hasty. Because an old man was roughed up a bit by some local boys, or a drunken tourist, does not mean the inspector was wrong," suggested Edgar.

  His wife replied, "I suspect we will never see eye to eye on this matter. I hope someone will get to the bottom of it soon.

  "Madeline, I commend you for your continued search to find the truth, despite your being a target yourself."

  Jonathan said, "Hugh and I will accompany Madeline―her safety comes first."

  "Thank you. I do feel so much better now that you and Father are here, and you'll be able to see the castle St. Fleur for yourself. Corinne will have a few more Yankees at her Confederate Ball. I hope she does not search us for weapons," Madeline said, laughing.

  After the meal, Madeline, and her father took a stroll through the grounds. It was a clear, brisk day, and she was anxious to talk with him.

  "Father, do you think Fitz is well enough for me to talk to him about what happened?"

  "Oh, yes. I don't see how that will have any effect on his recuperation."

  She spoke to him about Jeffrey, and how much she had grown to care for him. They walked past the area where the intruder took his shot at Hugh, and her father said, "Now I wish you had stayed in Chicago. This paradise called St. Augustine seems to be anything but that."