by Diane Noble
Livvy sounded ecstatic. “You’ve solved the case?”
“Not entirely. But I’ll have to tell you about it later. The cell’s signal isn’t great here, so I may lose you any minute. How about if we meet at the diner for coffee when I get back? You’re not going to believe—” The phone beeped, and the call was dropped. Kate groaned and tucked the cell back into her handbag.
During the drive back to Copper Mill, the rainy roads were so treacherous, she wasn’t able to mull over the astounding discovery of the letters as she’d hoped. But as she neared Copper Mill, the steady rain turned to sprinkles, then to a fine mist. By the time she arrived at the diner, the late-afternoon sun was slanting through the clouds, creating bars of sunlight that reminded her of the color of the angels in her dream.
Livvy was waiting at their booth as Kate came through the door. LuAnne bustled over with the coffee carafe and two mugs, gave her a hug, then poured coffee for them both.
Livvy leaned forward when they were alone again. “Okay, I’m dying of curiosity. What did you find out?”
“You’re going to love this,” Kate said. “Some distant relative of Beauregard’s donated some letters to the museum written by Beauregard to his wife. Apparently it’s a new discovery; so new, in fact, that the gift had yet to be cataloged and examined before they sent the rest of his things to Copper Mill with the exhibit.”
“What’s in the letters?”
Kate took a sip of coffee. “Beauregard was secretly working for the North the whole time he was a Confederate officer.”
“Whoa!” Livvy sat back, her eyes wide with astonishment. “That certainly changes the picture, doesn’t it?”
Kate nodded slowly. “We didn’t go through all of his letters, but I heard enough to know that he was an agent for the North. He reported directly to Grant himself, and President Lincoln.”
“So he’s not the Southern hero he’s been made out to be.”
“Actually, he’s still a hero in my book. He saved the lives of several men in his regiment at great risk to himself. And after the war, he worked diligently to bring reconciliation.”
“But by Southern standards,” Livvy said, “he was a traitor.” She sipped her coffee as LuAnne stopped by the table to take their order.
“Got some awful good peach cobbler, girls. How about a piece à la mode?”
They looked at each other and grinned.
“It’s a deal,” LuAnne said, then headed back to the kitchen.
Livvy studied Kate over the rim of her coffee mug. “Do you think Caroline and Renee know about this? It’ll break their hearts.”
Kate sighed and sat back. “I think it already has—at least Caroline’s.”
Livvy tilted her head, looking confused. Then, a second later, her expression perked, as if a light had turned on. Kate smiled when she saw that her friend had clearly come to the same conclusion she had.
Livvy nodded. “Of course,” she said. “It makes perfect sense. That’s why nothing else was taken. Do you think Caroline found out and was so ashamed she stole her grandfather’s things right from under our noses?”
“I can’t be sure, of course. But since we’ve known Caroline, her whole identity has been wrapped up in her proud Southern heritage, especially the heroism of her grandfather. She’s so proud of him that most conversations are somehow manipulated to include a story of his valor.” Kate paused. “But would she be embarrassed enough by the possibility of him becoming known as a traitor to pull off the theft? I don’t know. In her way of thinking, maybe it was a way to get back at him...or at least at his memory. Wipe him off the record books.” She shook her head.
“How do you think she found out?”
“A cousin, I think. I have the name of the person who found the letters. The curator traced the lineage, and we both agreed that Caroline—and possibly other relatives—were sent copies. The timing works out—the dates the letters were given to the museum as well as the date of the library break-in.”
Livvy let out a low whistle. “How did you put this together?”
Kate grinned. “A lot of cookie baking.”
“But Caroline’s in her nineties. How could she pull something like this off? I mean, considering the items that were taken, the coverup in the display cases, even the size and weight of the desk. How did she do it?”
“I don’t think she acted alone.”
“You know more than you’re telling me, don’t you?”
Kate shrugged as LuAnne brought their bowls of cobbler. “I do, but I have to follow up a little more before I can say anything.” She chuckled. “Believe me, it’ll be worth the wait.”
They ate in silence for a few minutes, then Kate said, “Do you have any plans for tonight? Like, later tonight? Say between eight and midnight?”
Livvy took a bite of cobbler and raised an eyebrow. “What do you have in mind, Sherlock?”
Kate winked. “Just meet me at the library at eight, Watson. And bring your keys.”
KATE HAD ONE MORE STOP to make before she went home: Renee and Caroline’s.
The gift bag with the angel votive was on the seat beside her, and as she exited her Honda, she carried the brightly colored bag with her.
A moment later she rang the doorbell.
Kisses’ wild yipping sounded from inside the house. Caroline opened the door seconds later, scowling at the Chihuahua.
“Hello, dear,” she said.
“I wanted to drop this by,” Kate said, holding up the gift bag. “It’s a gift from someone who cares about you.”
“But I wasn’t on the . . .” she mused, then caught herself. “Please, come in. Renee’s out running around in that disgraceful costume, but if you’d like some tea, I’ll make some.” She hobbled into the living room, and Kate followed.
“Actually, I came to visit with you, not with your daughter,” Kate said.
Caroline plumped into a chair, her eyes bright with interest as Kate sat down across from her. “I wanted to talk about your grandfather and what a fine man I think he was.”
“Is that right,” Caroline said.
“I’ve just come from the Civil War Museum in Chattanooga, where I did more research on his life.”
Caroline lifted her chin just a notch, her lips set in a straight line.
Kate leaned forward earnestly, hoping she wasn’t going too far. After all, the curator said the authenticity of the letters had to be verified, and she really wasn’t certain that Caroline knew about the letters. But something inside told her to go ahead and speak from her heart.
“He was quite a hero, your grandfather. He risked his own life to save the lives of his men. By all accounts, he was one of the bravest—and most beloved—officers in the Confederate army. He was a man of character and honor. Since doing research, I’ve come to understand why you’re so proud of him.”
“I couldn’t agree with you more.” Caroline stood, her eyes snapping. “But I need to say my piece before you get too far into yours. You may think I don’t know about your sleuthing abilities, but I do. I know you thought you were helping, but the fact that you took it upon yourself to look into my grandfather’s life greatly offends me. You should have left well enough alone.”
Kate blinked. This wasn’t the way she anticipated their conversation would go. She merely wanted to assure Caroline that no matter how he helped bring the war to an end, he was still a hero in anyone’s estimation.
“I meant no offense,” Kate said. “I’m sorry.”
“I know better than anyone that my grandfather was a good man. Believe me, I do. You don’t have to convince me. And I’ve had a lot of time to consider his life since I received the news about his activities on behalf of Mr. Lincoln. In the grand scope of things, the duties he performed were those he thought appropriate for the time. I can’t deny him that. I don’t agree with him, but I wasn’t there for him to ask.” A small smile curved her lips on one side.
She sat down with a labored sigh. “Now, what was
it so all-fired important that you had to tell me?” She dropped her voice. “As if I didn’t know.”
The snap in her eyes was still there, and Kate felt she was the one on the hot seat, not Caroline. It reminded her of the scrutiny she’d received from the Barker sisters, especially Hyacinth, the chalkboard-eraser-throwing schoolteacher, and she felt nine years old again.
“I was just going to tell you I enjoyed learning about your grandfather, his gentlemanly conduct, his honorable behavior, his fight for justice. And after the war, most of the soldiers just wanted to go home and pick up their lives where they left off. Not your granddaddy. He continued acting with the same honor and dignity that he was known for, working tirelessly to bring reconciliation between family members and friends during those carpetbag years that almost destroyed the South. He was a hero even then.”
“You’re not telling me anything I didn’t already know, dear.”
“He was a good man,” Kate said. “I would like to have known him.” She smiled at Caroline, feeling her respect for the woman growing.
“Now about that gift,” Caroline said. “I honestly had no idea...”
Kate watched the older woman’s face as she opened the tissue paper and held her stained-glass angel to the light.
“The colors picked out for you reflect how you are seen ...and loved. They stand for bravery, strength, and friendship. And best of all, the maroon is a reflection of your unsinkable spirit.”
“Unsinkable spirit,” Caroline said softly. “Isn’t that something?” Her expression softened, and Kate thought she saw tears.
After a moment, Kate stood, touched Caroline’s shoulder, then started for the front door.
KATE MET LIVVY a few minutes before eight outside the back of the library. They had parked a block away to conceal their cars, and after they entered the library, they turned off all the lights inside and out.
“Are you sure this is going to work?” Livvy asked.
“After what happened this afternoon, I’m not sure of anything. But I hope it’s tonight, otherwise, we’ll have to do this every night until it does work.” She laughed lightly. “I just wish we’d brought some cookies and coffee.”
“We could call LuAnne and have her drop some by.”
“We don’t want to tip off the intruders,” Kate said. “They might see her.”
Livvy laughed. “Senior citizens...Who would have thought?”
“Don’t speak too soon,” Kate said. “It’s a wild, wild, almost-for-certain guess.”
Livvy sighed. “So we wait.”
“And wait. And wait,” Kate said. “Can you see what time it is?”
The words had no more than left her lips when a sound carried toward them from the library entrance. Kate and Livvy ducked behind the front desk.
A clicking noise. Metal against metal.
A few heartbeats of silence, then another click, click, click.
“Knitting needles,” Kate whispered to Livvy.
“Knitting needles?” Livvy sounded incredulous. “How did you know that?”
Kate grinned. “Not your typical break-in tool, that’s for sure.”
The door swung open with a squeak, and soon the sounds of several rubber-soled shoes squeaked by the desk. As soon as the intruders had passed the desk, Livvy and Kate peered over the top.
Each wore a miner’s light on his or her head. Kate swallowed a smile. They reminded her of the Seven Dwarfs.
Earl and Daisy shuffled along, each carrying one end of the traveling desk; Hyacinth carried the dress uniform on a hanger, covered in clear plastic; Pansy carried a rifle almost as tall as she was, and Caroline carried a large duffle bag that Kate supposed contained the rest of the valuable items—the rifle and pistol, the ammo, and the framed photograph of her grandfather on his horse. The click of metal against metal carried through the library once more, followed by the sound of the sliding-glass doors of the display case opening.
Within five minutes, the gang returned to the entrance.
“Please tell me this isn’t our last break-in,” one of the Barker sisters said just before slipping through the door. “I haven’t had this much fun in years.”
The others laughed, and Kate thought she heard Earl say, “Don’t worry, the Green Acres Gang will strike again!”
Caroline chimed in. “Thanks, my friends, for helping me put these items back where they belong,” she said, her voice breaking with emotion. “Someone reminded me today just how revolutionary my grandfather was, and I simply cannot mourn his decisions any longer.”
Kate peered over the desk to see Earl put his arm around Caroline in one of the sweetest moments Kate had witnessed in a long time.
Just before they stepped through the door, Hyacinth said, “Too bad the others couldn’t be with us tonight. This was better than all the other break-ins rolled together.”
A few clicks later, the Green Acres Gang was out the door.
Others? Kate frowned and glanced at Livvy. But before either spoke, the knitting needles clicked again.
There was the sound of scurrying footsteps across the length of the library, then upstairs and down. One by one the lights went on until every light in the place was blazing.
“I can’t believe we almost forgot!” Pansy giggled.
Then the door closed again and all was silent.
Kate and Livvy waited before standing up.
“Don’t tell me,” Livvy said. “It’s been them all along?”
Kate laughed. “The undercover angels of Copper Mill.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Kate rose early Saturday morning and peeked outside. The day looked wintry and overcast, with the threat of darker clouds moving in. She hoped it wouldn’t rain. After all the hoopla and practicing and classes, the reenactment was about to begin. It would be a shame, no matter how authentic, to have a deluge hit the five hundred reenactors.
Paul went out to get the paper in his robe and came back in, shivering. Kate poured their coffee and joined him at the table.
She reached for his hand. “Are you going to be okay?”
He met her eyes and nodded. “We can’t win all the battles.” He let out a sigh and gave her a soft smile. “We gave it a month, but I think it’s time the church came back together. Those who want to split are talking about starting their own church, meeting in various homes. I don’t want that to happen. We’ll try to set up some other program for the young people.” He paused. “I plan to make the announcement tomorrow.”
“I know how much this meant to you,” she said.
“And to Caleb, Ashley, and Denver. They’ve been great.”
“I want to stay in touch with them,” Kate said. “They had enriched our lives, not just because of their music, but because of who they were—young people who genuinely cared for others.”
“By the way,” Paul said, “Did I tell you about running into Willy the other day...and what he told me about Caleb?” He sipped his coffee.
Kate shook her head.
“It must have been the day you drove to Chattanooga.”
She grinned. “Yeah, I was kind of busy that day.”
“You think?” Paul laughed. “Caleb came to see Willy about being part of the reenactment, so Willy took him under his wing to teach him the ropes, got him a pricey uniform, the whole works. Well, in the course of their conversations together, Willy discovered that Caleb has a love for both American history and science.”
Kate remembered what Caleb’s mother told her at Thanksgiving: Caleb wanted to be a doctor, but they didn’t have the means for him to attend college. She nodded as Paul went on.
“Willy contacted the members of the regional reenactment group about setting up a scholarship fund for Caleb, which explains the check Willy handed Caleb that day you saw them in the shop.” He smiled as he took another sip of coffee. “Lester Philpott even contacted Willy this week to see if he could contribute—a direct result of the conversation with Caleb’s mom on Thanksgiving Day
.”
Kate sat back, tears stinging her eyes. “What an answer to prayer. And what generous hearts Willy and his friends have.”
Paul squeezed Kate’s hand. “So you see, Katie, sometimes even though things don’t work out the way we want them to, we’re showered with blessings anyway.”
“None of this would have happened without Flame becoming part of our church, even for a month.” Kate reached for a tissue. “I don’t know why I’m taking this so hard,” she said. “I guess I just had higher hopes for us all.” Paul squeezed her fingers, his expression telling her more than his words ever could about his own disappointment.
PAUL BROUGHT in the mail just before they left for the opening battle of the reenactment. He flipped through the junk mail and bills, then did a double take when he pulled out a small envelope nearly hidden by the others. “This is odd.” He studied it for a moment, then handed it to Kate.
Kate smiled, recognizing the messy type from a manual typewriter. She slid her finger beneath the flap and pulled out a four-by-four-inch square of paper. Then she read it to Paul:
You are invited by special request to attend the most extra ordinry important service event h ever held at in the hisotry of faith Briar Church in Copper Mill, Tennessee.
Come on one, come all! Sunday morning, ten o’clock shartp. Be there.
P.S. This is ot an official noteice from Faith Briar clergyman or board of deacons.
Kate met Paul’s solemn gaze. “Just a wild guess, but I bet everyone in the congregation got one of these invitations.”
Paul sighed, even greater concern etched in his face. “Putting aside my concerns about someone using our directory for such an announcement, the question is, what is the Green Acres Gang up to now?”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
The threat of rain had passed by the time Kate and Paul walked to the first battle site, which was the star attraction for the citizens of Copper Mill—the battle in which J. P. Beauregard saved the lives of seven men in his regiment. Temporary aluminum bleachers had been set up around the perimeter of the large battlefield. They were nearly full by the time Paul and Kate made their way across the grassy field to one that was centrally located.
