by Diane Noble
When she was connected to the Internet, she typed into the Google search window, “civil war battle + lookout mountain + J. P. Beauregard.”
Crossing her arms, she leaned back, watching as a list of Web sites appeared, displaying portions of her search words. The first few results led her nowhere, then halfway down the third page, something caught her eye: Chattanooga Dispute over Library Loan Policy. The board of directors of the Chattanooga Civil War Museum disagrees on policy to allow smaller libraries opportunity to...
Kate clicked on the URL and waited while the site for the Chattanooga Times Free Press loaded. Then she scrolled down the page, reading as she moved the mouse.
She pulled out her notepad and jotted down the most important few lines in the article:
Archivist Jason Smythe-Robison warns that the value of the single most important part of the collection, items belonging to J. P. Beauregard, cannot be easily estimated and should not be allowed to leave the Chattanooga Civil War Museum until further study is done on security issues. “We are just beginning to understand the heart of this hero,” said Smythe-Robison. “His biggest contribution, in many ways, is the work he did after the war. He worked tirelessly for reconciliation between families and citizens split apart by the war.
“If anything were to happen to his artifacts, especially his personal letters and his correspondence with the nation’s leaders of his day, the loss would be incalculable. As with any article of great value, there is always a risk when it is out on loan. There is a special danger when these items are on loan to smaller libraries in towns and cities with little or no law-enforcement protection.”
Like Copper Mill. Kate knew Sheriff Roberts and Deputy Skip Spencer wouldn’t like to read the archivist’s assessment of their ability to catch a thief.
She printed out the article, then looked through a few more Web sites before googling “original US civil war uniform value.” She sat back again, arms crossed, and waited for the sites to appear.
After a moment, she clicked on the first one. And gasped with surprise. The starting price for an original uniform was listed at $23,000, and the value increased depending on the condition of the uniform and how well known the original owner was historically. The highest listed price was nearly $100,000!
Kate gulped, then scrolled down the rest of the “Civil War Antiques” site. A bugle was listed at $2,300, a rare Cantel patent canteen for $1,450; Springfield musket ammo, $1,750. Even playing cards were going for $475 and up.
She stared at the screen for a moment as she powered down the computer, then she hurried downstairs to again examine the rest of the exhibit. There were only three other uniforms on display, and none in the pristine condition of Beauregard’s. Besides, they were the uniforms of foot soldiers, not a decorated officer.
She headed back to the library entrance to wait for Livvy, pondering what she’d just discovered. Could it be that one of the hard-cores heard about the exhibit ahead of time? Maybe he had read the article she just finished and saw that small towns were vulnerable and Beauregard’s artifacts were valuable and decided to help himself to the treasure trove?
The archivist might as well have posted a neon sign saying, “Hey, world! Here’s something of great value with little security. Pop on over to Copper Mill and help yourself.”
Kate heard footsteps and looked up to see Livvy approaching. She could tell by her friend’s expression that something was troubling her.
Livvy got right to the point. “Representatives from the Civil War Museum are coming to Copper Mill to investigate the theft. They’re hinting that they’ll be looking for slipups in the way we handled security for the exhibit.” She sighed. “I’m just worried about the black marks we may receive, and what that will do to our accreditation process. And, of course, the grant.”
“Do you know when they’re coming?”
“They didn’t say. Only that it’s in the works.”
“Are you going to contact Skip or the sheriff for an update on the investigation?”
“I just put in a call to Sheriff Roberts a few minutes ago. Hopefully he’ll call back this afternoon. His preliminary report—which was sent to the museum and, I suspect, is what caused them to decide to conduct their own investigation—states that because there were no signs of breaking and entering, it’s believed that the library was not securely locked on the night of the theft.”
Kate could only imagine what Livvy was feeling at that moment. Her heart went out to her.
“I have a copy of the report, Kate. The investigation points to me as being responsible for leaving the doors unlocked.”
“Oh, Livvy!”
Livvy took an audible breath. “It’s time to pull out the big guns...”
“Big guns?”
“Or maybe I should say Big Gun.” She laughed. “You, Kate! I need your help now more than ever. Time is running out.”
Kate didn’t know whether to be flattered or dismayed. “Nothing yet,” Kate admitted. “I do have some strange notions flitting around in my head, though. Let’s go to lunch. I’ll tell you about it on the way.”
But as they walked out the door, something again niggled at the edges of her mind. And it had been since she left Willy’s Bait and Tackle. She was missing something. Possibly something big. And she had the strangest feeling it was staring her right in the face, only she didn’t recognize it.
Livvy was right, the clock was ticking, and her friend’s career was on the line. Time was of the essence.
Chapter Ten
Kate and Livvy were just leaving the diner when an old white Buick station wagon drove past and pulled into a parking space in front of the Mercantile. It was the same car Kate had noticed at the opening of the Civil War exhibit. She watched as Earl Pennyweather exited the driver’s side, then, like the Southern gentleman he was, rounded the car to open the doors for the ladies.
From the backseat, out spilled the Barker sisters. And from the front passenger side out stepped Caroline Johnston. She wore her floppy, flower-covered hat and carried her foldable jeweled cane. Earl, still reminding Kate of the colonel of fried-chicken fame, took Caroline’s arm as they slowly walked, canes tapping, up the sidewalk to the Mercantile.
“They’ve just started a senior-citizen-discount day,” Livvy said. “I imagine we’ll be seeing a lot of these folks, on Mondays, at least.”
“I noticed them last week at the kickoff for the exhibit.” Kate smiled. “There seems to be a little spark of something between the gentleman and Caroline.”
Livvy laughed lightly. “Oh, Earl and Caroline? They’ve been dear friends for years. But something romantic, at their ages?” She smiled and shrugged.
“It’s never too late for love to blossom,” Kate said, casting a fond look at the couple.
“The people out at Green Acres are the sprightliest people you’d ever want to meet,” Livvy said. “It’s wonderful to see seniors take so much pleasure out of life. They’re a model for us all.”
They watched the seniors disappear inside the Mercantile, then walked back to the library.
Before they parted, Livvy hesitated for a moment, her eyes reflecting worry. “I agree with you that we’re missing something,” she said, “but for the life of me, I can’t figure it out.”
“Right now all we’ve got to go on is the reenactment, keeping our eyes and ears open for any suspicious characters or activities during the preparations,” Kate said. “I’d thought about chatting with some of the participants, but Willy says five hundred are expected. The odds of finding the right person in such a crowd are too great. I’m afraid I’ve hit another dead end.”
“We’ll both keep our eyes peeled,” Livvy said. “I haven’t seen any strange occurrences at the library, but I know a little better what to watch for now.” She paused. “Thanks for your help, Kate, and for caring. I know you like a good mystery, but I have a feeling this one isn’t going to be easily solved.”
“You’re my best friend, Livvy. I’l
l do everything I can to help clear your name and find the person who did this.” Kate smiled confidently but felt a twinge of anxiety. What if she couldn’t solve this mystery? She breathed a silent prayer for God’s help and favor.
The women hugged and said their good-byes, then Kate stepped into her Honda and backed out of the parking space. As she turned right on Main, she spotted the Green Acres seniors exiting the Mercantile.
She slowed and pulled into the parking space next to Earl Pennyweather’s station wagon. She waved at Caroline and slipped out of the car.
The group stopped and waited for Kate to join them. Kate could see a few items in their shopping bags—a few half gallons of milk, at least one box of Cheerios, a bottle of prune juice, and a couple gallons of strawberry ice cream. She saw nothing low fat. Or even reduced fat. She even spotted a few pounds of real butter.
Earl and the women watched Kate curiously as she approached.
“Caroline,” she called. “I just wanted to say hello and meet your friends.”
Caroline shot Kate a genteel smile. “Well, hello, dear. It’s good to see you again. Let me introduce my friends from Green Acres—that’s where I used to live, you know, before I fell and broke my hip. This is Earl,” she said, a twinkle in her eye, “and these are the Barker sisters, Hyacinth, Daisy, and Pansy.” Then she introduced Kate to the group. “This is the pastor’s wife out at Faith Briar...Kate Hanlon. She’s also a dear friend of Renee’s.”
Dear friend of Renee’s? Kate swallowed a chuckle. Though when she stopped to think about it, Caroline wasn’t far from the truth. Renee Lambert came close to driving Kate to distraction with her critical, opinionated nature, but Kate also knew that if she ever needed her, Renee would be on her doorstep in a heartbeat.
Hyacinth Barker stuck her hand out to shake Kate’s. One look in her piercing blue eyes, and Kate could see the feisty chalkboard-eraser-throwing woman she once was. She wore glasses that seemed to magnify those eyes, and Kate got the uncomfortable feeling Hyacinth was sizing her up for some reason.
Her sisters Daisy and Pansy weren’t as obvious in their scrutiny, but as they studied Kate, for a fleeting moment Kate thought she had somehow disappointed them. Maybe they had expected her to be quicker about solving the crime that had broken their friend Caroline’s heart. After all, she had promised Caroline she would do her best.
Ever the Southern gentleman, Earl smiled broadly, bowed, and kissed Kate’s hand. His eyes were kind and intelligent, and Kate could see how Caroline might get lost in them. Now that she’d seen him up close, she didn’t see Colonel Sanders in him at all. He was far more handsome.
Kate gave them all a wide smile, then turned to Caroline. “I can see why you miss your friends.”
“We still get together as often as we can,” Caroline said, glancing at the others. Her shoulders sagged, and Kate remembered the real reason she’d stopped to talk to her. And judging from the expressions on her friends’ faces, it wasn’t a moment too soon.
“I wanted to tell you that I’m doing my best to solve the mystery of the library theft.”
Caroline’s face fell, and her shoulders sagged even lower. She tottered backward but caught herself with her cane. Earl quickly moved closer and put his arm around her for support.
“Oh dear,” Kate said, “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
Caroline shook her head. “It’s just so...fresh. Raw, I suppose you might say. It’s terrible to have something you treasure disappear like that. Someone you care about...” Her voice broke, and her chin trembled.
Kate regretted that she’d brought up the subject.
As the sisters were murmuring words of encouragement to their friend, Kate took a breath and said, “What I wanted to tell you was that this morning I did some research on your grandfather...On the Internet, you know. And I came away so impressed with his life. With all he accomplished during the war, and especially after.” She dropped her voice and stepped closer to take Caroline’s hand. “He was a hero.”
At that pronouncement, Caroline’s tears spilled over.
“Did you find out anything?” Earl looked as upset as Caroline did. “Anything at all?”
“No. I’m sorry. But I’m not going to stop until I get to the bottom of this. You can count on that.”
Just then a big pink Oldsmobile as big as the Queen Mary II drove up. Renee waved and honked as she turned the big vehicle into the parking spot next to Earl’s station wagon.
“Looks like your ride’s here,” Earl said to Caroline.
She dabbed at her eyes with a tissue and nodded. As Renee exited her car, Kisses in tow, the Green Acres group said their good-byes. The sisters climbed into the station wagon while Earl helped Caroline into Renee’s car.
Renee sidled up to Kate and whispered. “I’m worried about Mama. Did you notice how frail she looks? This whole thing about Granddaddy Beauregard has broken her heart.”
She set Kisses on the ground, and he promptly pulled against his leash, trying to reach a car tire to do his business. Renee narrowed her eyes and said conspiratorially. “I have a theory about the perp. I’ve been thinking it’s no coincidence that the reenactment is setting up.”
Kate nodded and bit back a sigh. Renee was almost addicted to crime shows like CSI and Law and Order. It resulted in her jumping in to “help” Kate solve any mystery in town, real or imagined, unabashedly spouting police procedural lingo.
“I’ve decided to go undercover,” she said dramatically, “to flush out the perp.”
“Undercover?”
“You better believe it. I’ve been doing some sleuthing on the Net, and I’ve got a theory.” She looked around suspiciously, then whispered, “I think it might be one of these foreigners from the North who’s in town for the reenactment. Maybe trying to steal a little bit of our Southern heritage. Plus, do you know the value of that uniform?” Her neatly plucked eyebrow shot up.
Kate told her she did.
“I figure if I head into one of the encampments, mill about like I’m one of the reenactors, I might be able to find the perp.”
Kate bit back a smile. “You’re going to dress the part?” Even before she asked the question, she knew the answer.
“Of course. I’ve got it all planned. I’m going to reenact the part of Florence Nightingale.” She went on to describe the costume she was already putting together.
Kate didn’t tell her that Florence Nightingale was a consultant to the Union army.
“We don’t know where we might find the perp,” she said. “Might be right under our noses. And that’s why I plan to flush him out.”
Seated in the Oldsmobile and obviously getting impatient, Caroline scowled at her daughter, then beeped the horn pointedly.
Renee waved, fluttered her fingers, then turned back to Kate. “I’ll let you know how it goes...” She hesitated, blinking rapidly as if to rid her eyes of tears. “Pray for me, Kate. My mission may be dangerous. But I’m doing this for Mama. I’d do anything to see her smile again.”
Caroline blasted the horn once more, this time longer. Renee called out, “I’m coming Mama...” and headed to the car.
Kate watched them pull out of the parking space, then climbed into her Honda and started the engine. She headed east on Main, then hesitated as she approached Smoky Mountain Road.
She had more questions for Willy now that she knew more about the value of the Beauregard uniform. And she felt slightly unsure about him and his suspicious withholding of information. She glanced at the dashboard clock. There was just enough time to swing back by the bait and tackle shop.
Surprisingly, parking wasn’t available in front of the shop, so she parked the Honda a block away and walked.
She was about fifty yards from the shop when she saw someone enter carrying a large parcel. She halted and stared as the familiar-looking figure disappeared inside the shop.
She was almost certain it was Caleb King, the teen who played guitar with the new worship team. What wa
s he doing there while school was still in session?
On a whim, she slipped around the outside of the shop to the rear and stood on her tiptoes to peer in a dusty, cobwebby window.
She was right. It was Caleb King. She watched as he handed the parcel to Willy, who promptly unwrapped it. Caleb grinned as Willy held up the item, his own smile almost as wide as the younger man’s. There was no doubt about it: it was a Southern officer’s uniform. She could see that it was in pristine condition even through the dusty window. After admiring it for a few moments, Willy slapped Caleb on the back as if congratulating him.
Kate’s heart sank as Willy handed a skinny piece of paper to Caleb. It was almost certainly a check.
They talked for a while, Willy quite animated, Caleb smiling but subdued, it seemed to Kate. Then not ten minutes later, Willy locked up his shop and the two headed to his car, Willy carrying the parcel. Kate hurried back to her car just in time to follow them as they drove off together. She tailed them at a distance, long enough to see Willy let Caleb out in front of the high school.
With a heavy heart, she drove home.
KATE PULLED A THIRD TRAY of double-chocolate-chip cookies out of the oven just as Paul came through the door. She had just started to tell him about what she’d seen at the bait and tackle shop, when the doorbell rang.
It was the three young musicians. “I’ll tell you later,” she called after him as he headed to the front door.
The teens followed Paul into the kitchen, Caleb and Ashley looking awkward and shy. Denver broke the ice by making a beeline straight for the tray of cookies. He checked the softness factor like an expert dessert chef, then picked up a spatula and began to scoop the cookies off the cookie sheet onto a plate.
He grinned at Kate’s surprised look. “Hey, I’ve been doing this since before I could walk. My grandma says I’m the best chef’s helper there could be. Want me to get the milk?” He laughed at the surprised glances Kate and Paul exchanged. “Hey, what can I say? I’ve got six brothers and a sister. We’re all about everyone for him- or herself.”
