by Jane Tesh
Nathan beamed. “I know. It’s perfect. We’ll just go out the back door.” We followed him out. “And over here we have the cabins for the kids.”
On the other side of the large log cabin was a clearing of hard packed earth. In the center of the clearing was a huge ring of white stones encircling a pile of charred logs.
Nathan eyes were shining. “Here’s where we had our campfire every night with stories and songs. Some of the world’s best ghost stories were told around this campfire, and don’t get me started on the songs. Great songs, really hilarious. Let me show you one of the kids’ cabins.”
Surrounding the clearing were smaller cabins, all made of dark wood. Inside the cabins were bunk beds and little tables and chairs. Everything looked worn and smelled musty. Cobwebs had taken over most of the corners.
“Of course, I’ll replace all this with new stuff,” Nathan said. “And it wouldn’t be Camp Lakenwood without the lake.”
He led us down a slight hill to a wide blue lake sparkling in the sun. A few leaves had started to change, and the bright bursts of red and yellow reflected in the water. Rowboats sat upside down on the bank, their hulls cracked and full of holes. Faded canoes were stacked on the dock, which was missing several planks and leaned dangerously to the left.
“All the canoes and boats will have to be replaced, as well, and I want to have some small sailboats and maybe some wave runners.” He pointed across the lake. “On the other side are some Indian teepees that were made in the Fifties, and an obstacle course, and a couple of tree houses that are falling apart.”
He stood for a moment looking out across the lake. I knew he was seeing his camp restored and children, all in green and yellow tee shirts, playing in the water, rowing canoes to the other side to explore the teepees and tree houses. I exchanged a glance with Jerry.
“Everybody’s got a dream,” he said. “Might as well dream big.”
I knew he was talking about me, but Nathan said, “Exactly. Why not? Now, let me show you the crafts building.”
We passed some weathered picnic tables and a sad-looking basketball court with the remains of nets dangling on the goals on our way to another log cabin. This cabin had a long room furnished with tables and benches.
Nathan indicated the cabinets along the walls. “All the craft supplies are gone, stolen, I’m afraid. Parts of the rail fence are missing, too, but overall, the buildings are sound. I definitely want to install some sort of security system. You see I’ve got a lot to do.”
“It’s a beautiful place, though,” I said.
“Oh, yes, especially in the fall. I’d love to have sessions starting in the spring and running all the way through October.”
We came back out and stood looking across the lake. I still couldn’t understand why he wasn’t racing back to the chateau to search the attic. My cell phone rang. I checked the caller ID and saw it was Aaron’s number.
“Excuse me, Nathan.” I answered the phone, and the secretary said, “I’m sorry, Ms. Maclin, but Mr. Satterfield will be out of the office the rest of the day. Perhaps I can help you.”
“Thank you,” I said. “I want to make an appointment to see Mr. Satterfield tomorrow, if possible.”
“I’m afraid Mr. Satterfield won’t be available until Monday,” she said. “He’s on the planning committee for the Red Ribbon Ball, which is Saturday, and he’ll be making arrangements for that all day tomorrow. I can make an appointment for you for Monday, if that works for you.”
“I didn’t realize he was involved with the Red Ribbon Ball,” I said, as Jerry’s eyes widened. “That’s a fund raiser for AIDS, isn’t it?”
“Yes, one of the biggest in the city. Mr. Satterfield always takes an active part in these events. He lost his partner to AIDS last year.”
“I’m very sorry to hear that,” I said. “I hope the ball is a big success. I’ll get back to you about an appointment, thanks.” I hung up. Jerry’s eyes were still wide. “Aaron’s on the planning committee for the Red Ribbon Ball. His partner died of AIDS last year.”
Nathan looked pale. “His partner?”
“Yes. So I imagine Aaron is gay. Did you know?”
“N-no, I knew he left town to start a business with a friend, but I never—there was no indication—I mean, he was always doing all sorts of sports and outdoor things.” His voice trailed off. “I don’t mean that the way it sounds.”
A lot of things were making sense to me. “If you didn’t know, then I’m sure Tori doesn’t know,” I said. “I would think Aaron feels guilty for marrying her in the first place and then realizing he had feelings for his friend.”
“But he insisted on marrying her,” Nathan said.
“Yes, to spite Elijah. I seriously doubt Aaron could have told Elijah he was gay, and being married to Tori was a good cover for a while.”
Nathan looked as if he were beginning to understand. “He always seemed so angry.”
“So he finally left town and started a new life in Parkland.” I thought of something else. “And that’s why he doesn’t want to be involved in Elijah’s treasure hunt. He’d have to come back to Celosia and face a lot of things he doesn’t want to face.”
“I really didn’t know,” Nathan said.
“Okay, I’ll grant you that,” I said, “but it would help if you’d be honest with me about a few other things.”
“What? When have I not been honest?”
“Well, for one thing, Amelia Lever was helping you with the grant.”
He went pale. “Why do you say that?”
“I found a copy of the grant among her things. She’d written a note that said, ‘Nathan, you need to check this.’ And she was at your house a couple of days before she died, wasn’t she?” As he stammered for a reply, I said, “I found her cigarettes in the ashtray. Convince me you wear purple lipstick, and I’ll apologize.”
Nathan gulped, but didn’t say anything.
“From what I know about Amelia, she loved to ruin plans, especially plans with grants attached. Was she trying to ruin your plans?”
“It’s not like that.”
“Then what’s it like?”
“It’s complicated.”
“If you want me to help you, you need to tell me everything.”
“I need the answer to that riddle.”
“And I need to know why I shouldn’t figure you killed Amelia Lever.”
He almost fell over. “What? You can’t say that!”
“Why not? She was in your house a few days before she died. Maybe the two of you quarreled over the grant money. Maybe she threatened you, and you decided to get rid of her.”
“No, no. Please. Let me explain.”
Nathan sighed and sat down on one of the picnic table benches. He took off his glasses and rubbed his nose. Then he took some deep breaths as if gathering his courage.
“I told you Aaron was in Mrs. Lever’s fifth grade. Every now and then, Amelia would have a favorite student. Aaron happened to be one of those fortunate few. After he left school, she kept in touch with him. When he left town, occasionally she’d call me or come over to talk about him. She was a gruff old bird, but I got to like her. She knew about Elijah’s riddle. She kept telling me to be careful and not let anyone else know about it.”
“I think everyone in town knows about it.”
“They might know there’s a riddle, but not exactly what it says.”
“Fiona knows.”
“Yes, but I trust her. Amelia was concerned that someone else might find out.”
“From what I’ve learned about Amelia, her concern for you is somewhat out of character.”
“She liked me. She said I was one of the few people she could talk to. Really all I did was listen. She was worried about her sons marrying the wrong women. She was angry about how things were run at school. She hated giving the students those endless tests. A few days before she died, she came over to visit. You’re right. She was helping me with the grant. She said I
needed to be extra careful because she thought someone was going to get my money.”
“Did she say who she suspected?”
“No. I told her not to worry. I’d soon solve the riddle.”
“Who else knows about this?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t tell anyone.”
“Does anyone else want this camp? Wouldn’t the land be valuable?”
“I can’t think of anyone else who’s shown any interest in it.”
“Okay,” I said. “One more question. Why don’t you want to go back to the chateau?”
He gulped and looked down at his shoes. “It’s Tori.”
“Do you still have feelings for her?”
“I wanted to take our friendship to the next level, but Aaron was there, and she chose him instead.”
“Did she know how you felt?”
“I got angry with her. I told her she was making a huge mistake. Then after I learned how Aaron had treated her, I realized he probably forced her into marriage. He’s always been very assertive. I could’ve helped her, but I didn’t. Now she doesn’t want to talk to me.”
Knowing how sensitive Tori was, I could understand her confusion. “But she’s helping us search. She wants you to succeed.”
“That’s sweet of her, but I know she still hates me.”
“She’s upset because Aaron left her. She thinks everyone in Celosia is laughing at her.”
“I’m very sorry she feels that way. It’s not true.”
“Well, don’t tell me, tell her. She needs to know the truth. Come with us to the chateau.”
He looked out across the lake. I figured he was thinking he’d do anything for a chance to own Camp Lakenwood. Then he looked back at me. “All right,” he said.
***
Nathan had a few things to do before he left the camp, so Jerry and I went on to the chateau. I was anxious to talk to Tori. I wasn’t sure how she’d take the news. As we drove up and parked in front of the house, I realized that Elijah had known exactly what he was doing when he left Chateau Marmot to Tori. If the answer to the riddle was in the attic, neither Aaron nor Nathan would have much chance of getting in, and Tori certainly wouldn’t have opened the door to Amelia Lever.
Tori was delighted, as always, to see us. We sat down in her dark little parlor and I explained that Nathan felt very bad about his past behavior and was concerned that she was still angry with him.
“Dear me,” she said, twisting her little hands in her lap. “I really don’t know how I feel about that. I suppose that makes me feel a little better. It won’t do any good to be angry, will it?”
“And there’s something else you need to know,” I said. “It’s about Aaron. Remember I said that if Aaron wasn’t in love with you, you could’ve been Marilyn Monroe, and he wouldn’t have cared?” She nodded. “Well, that’s more accurate than we thought. He’s gay, Tori.”
She stared at me. “What?”
“I know he married you to spite Elijah, but then he realized he’d made an even bigger mistake and didn’t know how to tell you. Instead of explaining, he just left.”
She looked confused. “So there wasn’t another woman?”
“No. When he left Celosia with a friend, that friend was a man. They were partners.”
She gave a little laugh that was almost a sob. “Really?”
“I know this is upsetting, but I hope it explains things.”
She took a shaky breath. “Well, that explains the money.”
“What money?”
“Aaron sends me money every month. We’re not divorced, so he doesn’t have to send alimony. Now I know why he does this. It’s his way of saying, I’m sorry.” She began to cry.
Jerry quickly gave her his handkerchief, and she wiped her eyes. She took another breath. “I guess he still cares for me.”
“I’m sure he does,” I said, even though I wasn’t so sure. Being married to Tori had kept Celosia’s nosier citizens—and Elijah—from discovering Aaron’s secret. If he felt any emotion, it was probably guilt.
Tori patted her cheeks dry. “How did you find out, Madeline?”
“His secretary told me Aaron was in charge of the Red Ribbon Ball, which is a fund raiser for AIDS and that Aaron’s partner died last year.”
“Oh, no. How sad!” Her eyes filled with tears again. “All this must have been so hard on him.”
I couldn’t be as sympathetic, but I could tell Tori was finding a way to cope with the unsettling news. “I imagine he has a lot of friends in Parkland to help him out.”
“You’re right. That’s why he moved there, to be with his friends.” She gave her eyes one last wipe. “And I have my friends here. Let’s work on solving that riddle.”
“Nathan would like to come over and help look, if that’s all right with you.”
She nodded. “Yes, that’s fine.”
“He’s on his way from Camp Lakenwood. Why don’t we wait outside?”
I thought Tori might object, but she went with me and Jerry as we stepped out her front door into the beautiful afternoon. She squinted and held her hand up to shield her eyes.
“My, that sun is bright.”
How many years has it been since you were out in the sun? I wanted to ask. I tried to be more tactful. “Do you look after the plants?”
“Oh, I do a little gardening in the back,” she said.
I wasn’t sure I believed that. I wondered if the back garden looked as sad and neglected as the front. We sat down on the low stone wall. Tori eyed the driveway and twisted her hands nervously.
“Are you okay with this?” I asked.
“Yes. He really should be a part of the search.”
“Are you okay with everything, though?”
“I’m all right,” she said. “Thank you for telling me, Madeline. I guess I was wrong about a lot of things.”
“You just didn’t have all the information. That happens sometimes.”
She managed a wan smile. “My mother used to say a little learning is a dangerous thing. I should have been more assertive. I should have asked questions.”
After a long pause, Jerry said, “I wish Nathan would get here. I’m ready to climb up in the attic. I hope it’s spooky and full of bats and cobwebs.”
Tori brightened. “It is!”
He gave her a skeptical look. “And how many times have you climbed up in the attic?”
She gave him an impish smile. “I’ve been up there lots of times.”
“No, you haven’t. What for? Is the whole attic filled with scrapbooks?”
“Not yet.”
By the time Nathan arrived, Jerry’s teasing had Tori feeling more relaxed. Nathan’s sincere apology helped, too. He still had on his camp tee shirt and shorts, so he looked like an earnest Boy Scout. He took her hand.
“Tori, I’m so sorry there’s been this misunderstanding between us. I was angry because you chose Aaron instead of me, and then, I never did anything to help you. You have every right to keep me out of the house. Elijah did one good thing in his life when he left it to you.”
I wasn’t sure she was going to answer him, but after an awkward moment, she said, “I did like you very much, Nathan, but unfortunately for me, I fell in love with Aaron. I didn’t know he wanted to marry me to spite Elijah. I didn’t know he was gay. It must have been very hard for him.”
“I should’ve known that. I should’ve told you.”
“Well, you didn’t know, either. I shouldn’t have blamed you.”
“I’m so sorry, Tori.”
She managed a smile.
“It’s all right,” she said. “I actually feel a little better. If Aaron was in love with a man, then I couldn’t have done anything to change that, could I? For years, I imagined him with another more beautiful, more talented woman. This is so different I really can’t say I feel too badly about it. Let’s forget the past and start over by solving your riddle.”
With Jerry and Nathan’s help, we managed to pull do
wn the rusty chains that held the steps to the attic. The attic stretched into darkness, cobwebs trembling in the slight breeze from the door. Tori flipped a light switch, and the faint glow from dim light bulbs revealed dusty floorboards, a few old trunks, and rows of dark portraits leaning against the walls. The Fentons and the Satterfields were not attractive people, but must have been vain, because it looked as if every single person ever born to these families had a portrait.
“Okay, let’s start at one end and work our way down,” Jerry said.
He pulled the first one out and brought it closer to the best source of light. We examined it from all sides, found nothing, and he took it back. Then Nathan brought the next one over. We saw Fentons and Satterfields in dark brocade jackets and high heeled shoes of the 1700s, in dark empire waist gowns and cropped curls of the 1800s, and in dark high-necked dresses and dark wool suits of the early 1900s.
Jerry hauled the next portrait up to the light. “When was color invented?”
“They are a grim bunch,” I said.
“I love their names. Determination Fenton. Heathcliff Satterfield. Retribution Fenton. Here’s a happy soul named Somber. Somber Satterfield. Try saying that fast.”
Tori peered at the next serious face. “I guess life was much harder then.”
“But if life was hard, wouldn’t you like to be called something cheerful, like Hope, or Giggles? Giggles Satterfield. I’d pay to see a portrait of her.”
Tori got the giggles, herself. “I don’t think that’s likely, do you?”
“Not in this attic.”
I looked at Somber Satterfield, checked the frame and the back, and slid the portrait over to Jerry. “Next, please.”
He leaned Somber against the wall and pulled the next portrait over. “Let’s see what this guy’s name is. ‘Constant Lyes.’ Well, his folks thought a lot about him.”
“‘Lyes’?” I said, and we all realized what we’d found.
“‘And listen where the portrait lies’!” Nathan said. “Maybe this is it.”
“Is there a sparrow?” Tori asked. “And a river?”
“It’s hard to see.”
“‘Take heed to see what can’t be seen,’” Tori said. “It all fits!”
