by Kathi Daley
“I should get going,” I said after Brady settled the dog back on his bed. “I promised a friend to help him find a Christmas tree.”
“Sounds like fun. Thank you again for all your help.”
“No problem. I was happy to pitch in.” I turned and started to leave. “I know this is kind of random, but my mom is making dinner for the family tomorrow afternoon. Would you like to come?”
Brady smiled. “I’d love to.”
“Great. I’ll text you the time and address.”
******
By the time I picked Tang and Tilly up from my cabin and drove out to Tony’s the sun had started to descend. I figured we had less than an hour of daylight left, but there were plenty of beautiful trees on his property, which meant we wouldn’t need to drive anywhere to find the perfect fir. All we needed to do was choose one, cut it down, and haul it inside; then we’d have the whole night to decorate. I was anxious to find out if Tony had any news regarding Pike’s murder and all the random pieces that seemed to be attached to it, but also excited to help Tony decorate his place. In all the years we’d been friends he’d done so much for me. Helping to brighten his living space would be my way of giving back to him a bit.
“What about this one?” Tony asked.
“Too tall,” I answered. “It will be too hard to decorate. How about the one over near the road?”
“Too wide. I don’t want to be running into the darn thing for the next two weeks.” Tony walked up the hill we’d decided had the best selection through shin-deep snow. “How about this one?”
I considered the tree. It was a noble fir, about eight feet tall, which had grown full but cylindrical. “I think it’s perfect. Let’s get it inside and set up in the stand. We can eat first, then decorate.”
“Stand?”
I narrowed my gaze. “You don’t have a tree stand?”
Tony slowly shook his head.
I glanced at my watch. “The hardware store will be open for another hour. Let’s head into town to pick up what we need. We’ll just grab a pizza; it’ll be faster than cooking. As long as we’re at it, do you have lights?”
“I have lights,” Tony confirmed.
“And ornaments?”
“Does it really need ornaments?”
I rolled my eyes. “Come on. We’d better hurry.”
By the time we cut down the tree and dragged it onto the closed-in porch to dry out we had less than thirty minutes to get into town before the hardware store closed. I figured if we were in the door before six Hap wouldn’t kick us out unless this was one of his date nights. Regardless, it was best to hurry, so I packed Tang and Tilly into the backseat of Tony’s truck and we started into town.
“Talk to me about the case,” I suggested as we sped down the mountain at a pace I wasn’t entirely sure was safe on icy roads.
“Okay, let’s talk about the case,” Tony agreed as he hugged the side of the lane as he navigated a sharp curve. “I’ve looked at the maps, mine claims, and land documents extensively, and it seems certain to me that after the man’s death, Weston mined Bloomfield’s claim closest to his own and made a fortune. There’s no way to know based on the information we have whether Weston caused the cave-in to gain access to the gold, or if he just took advantage of the accident. I suppose it’s even possible Bloomfield had worked out a deal with Weston before he died.”
“So, despite the fact that we have a feasible theory as to Pike’s secret, there’s no way to figure out if this series of events is even related to Pike’s death.”
“Correct. Even if we could prove Hank Weston killed Bloomfield, then stole his gold, it won’t help us in pinpointing Pike’s killer. Hank Weston is dead, which would lead me to believe the killer could be a child or grandchild, but we’ll need more to get anywhere with that line of thought.”
“Maybe if we start by considering Hank Weston’s descendants as suspects we can narrow things down.”
“It might give us a starting point.”
“I spoke to the new librarian, Wilma Cosgrove, the other day. She told me that Pike had been looking at old newspapers the week before his death. I have no way of knowing what he was looking for, though I found a newspaper in which Austin Wade’s birth was announced. It was circled.”
“You think Pike circled it?”
I shrugged. “I have no way of knowing who circled it, or even if it’s relevant, but it seems interesting.”
“I guess it’s important to consider everything we find as a potential clue. We have no way of knowing what sort of secrets Pike might have been keeping. In fact, we don’t even know if that’s what got Pike killed. What we need is some sort of physical evidence to link the killer to the murder scene. Are you sure your brother didn’t find anything?”
“As far as I know, nothing other than Donny’s prints. He’ll be at my mom’s for dinner tomorrow. I’ll see if I can soften him up to get him to tell me what he knows. It might help if I bring him the laptop.”
“I’m done with it. I’ve copied what I needed into my own files.” Tony slowed just a bit to navigate an icy patch and then continued. “As far as I can tell, other than a few emails, Pike only used the computer to play games and watch movies.”
“I wondered why he even had a computer. He wasn’t the sort to appreciate modern technology, but he was alone a lot, so having the computer to play games and watch movies makes sense. Did you find anything else at all?”
Tony sped up as we approached a flat, straight stretch of highway. “I wasn’t able to track down the person who sent the letter to Pike, but he was married to a woman named Patricia back in the fifties. I didn’t find anything suggesting they ever divorced, so I’m uncertain why she left him. I can keep looking for someone named Bethany in Billings. If Bethany and Patricia were just friends, the odds of my finding her are pretty remote, but if Bethany is a child or perhaps a grandchild, I may be able to find a link between them.” Tony pulled into the lot behind the hardware store and we slipped out and headed inside. It was a quarter to six, so we’d need to hurry.
“What are you doing here so late?” Hap asked.
“Tony needs a tree stand and some ornaments.”
“Have both, but you’ll need to hurry. I’m closing in fifteen minutes and I can’t be late; it’s date night.”
I looked at Tony. “You grab a stand and I’ll grab some decorations.”
“You’ve lived here a long time,” I said to Hap as he led me to the aisle where the ornaments were kept.
“Most of my life.”
“Do you remember someone named Patricia who was married to Pike?”
“Sure.”
“Can you tell me anything about her?”
“She was a pretty little thing. She came here to help a friend who was pregnant, met Pike, and ended up staying.”
“Do you know who the friend was?”
“A woman named Grace. Can’t remember her last name. I think she left town shortly after she gave birth.”
“So, Pike met Patricia when she came to White Eagle to help her pregnant friend, ended up staying, and eventually married Pike.”
“That’s what I just said.”
“Yes, I guess it is.” I began to stack ornaments into the basket I’d grabbed. “At some point she left White Eagle. Do you remember why?”
Hap shook his head. “Don’t rightly know. It seemed she’d settled in just fine. She seemed to get along fine with Pike, and as the only midwife in town she’d made a lot of friends. She seemed happy enough, although it isn’t like I knew her well. You might ask Bella Bradford about her, if you’re really interested. Bella’s a decade older than me and was closer to Patricia’s age. Seems to me I remember them being friends.”
“Okay, thanks. I’ll try to track her down tomorrow.”
Tony and I gathered together the things we needed for his tree, then went to the pizza parlor. It was crowded even for a Saturday night, but we managed to find a booth in the back. Tony went to the
bar to get us beers while I looked over the menu.
“Was there a problem with the pizza?” Tony asked when he rejoined me at the table.
“No, I ordered a combo.”
“Then what’s with the frown?”
I offered Tony a weak smile. “Sorry. I guess I’m not much of a fun date. It’s just that this thing with Pike is really frustrating me. I feel like I’m finding out a lot about him and his life, but so far nothing’s pointing to a killer.”
Tony placed his hand over mine. “Perhaps you should take a step back and let Mike and Frank figure out who killed Pike. It’s their job, after all, and you only became involved in the investigation because Bree asked you to help clear Donny. Seems like that reason no longer exists.”
“True,” I admitted. “But my curiosity has been ignited, and it might be too late to walk away. Hap not only verified that Pike had been married to someone named Patricia, but that she was a popular midwife who seemed to have just up and left for no apparent reason. And then there’s the letter from Bethany, letting Pike know Patricia had released him from some sort of a promise she’d asked of him. What was that all about? And if that isn’t enough, there’s the whole thing with the maps Pike had and the Bloomfield mine.”
“It does seem like there was a lot going on.”
“Right! Oh, and Amberley told me that Pike visited her grandfather shortly before his death. I don’t know what’s going on, but I feel like we’re close to figuring everything out.”
Tony shrugged. “Okay. We’ll keep looking. Let’s talk about a strategy to attack the problem while we decorate the tree. Maybe the answer is somewhere in the boxes you brought over from Pike’s house.”
“The letters,” I blurted out.
“Letters?”
“When we were looking through Pike’s things there was a stack of letters from Patricia. At the time I had no idea who Patricia was and they looked personal, so I set them aside. We need to go by Pike’s place on the way out to yours. Hopefully, the letters are still there. If the secret Pike had been keeping had something to do with the woman who married and then left him, maybe we’ll find something that will help pull everything together.”
As it turned out, the letters were filled with chitchat about Patricia’s life after she left White Eagle, with no mention of a secret or the reason she left town. Tony and I might have hit a dead end in terms of identifying Pike’s killer, but we had an amazing time decorating his tree and sharing stories of Christmases past.
Chapter 7
Monday, December 18
Tilly and I trudged through the heavy snow as we made our rounds. I carried my mailbag and Tilly carried Tang in the backpack. Tang had grown quite a lot since he’d been having regular meals, and it wouldn’t be long before Tilly and I would need to leave him at home. So far, Tang and Tilly seemed fine with the present setup, so I decided to allow Tang to come along with us until one or the other showed signs of discontent.
“Morning, Hap,” I said as I tossed his mail on the counter.
“Best warm up by the fire. It looks like you have more snow on you than we have on the sidewalk out front.”
“It’s coming down pretty hard. Is it okay if I let Tang out of the backpack for a few minutes?”
“That’d be fine.”
I lifted Tang from the carrier, then slipped the pack off Tilly’s back. I figured all three members of White Eagle’s mail-carrying team needed to dry out and warm up a bit.
“Did you get a chance to speak to Bella?” Hap asked.
“I called her, but she was busy yesterday. I’m going to stop by her place this afternoon. I’m hoping she’ll have some insight as to why Patricia left and what promise she asked of Pike that was so huge she wanted to formally relieve him of his obligation on her deathbed.”
“Coffee?” Hap held up an empty mug.
“Thanks.”
He poured a cup and handed it to me. I took a sip and sighed as the hot liquid slowly worked its way through my body. I loved my job, but there were days, like today, when I found it a challenge as well.
“Hattie and I talked about your little investigation over Sunday dinner,” Hap said. “She wondered if you knew about the Bloomfield mine.”
“Sort of. I know the mine next to the one owned by Hank Weston belonged to someone named Bloomfield, who died in a cave-in. Somehow, Weston ended up with his claim, and the gold from the Bloomfield mine was what made his fortune.”
“Sounds about right.”
“Tony and I think one of Hank’s descendants might be behind Pikes death.”
“Kind of doubt anyone would care much about a claim jump that occurred so long ago.”
“It’s not just that. I think Pike threatened to tell the visiting historian that Hank Weston killed Bloomfield to get his gold. Seems to me that even all this time later folks would care about that.”
“Hank didn’t kill Bloomfield.”
“How do you know?”
“Pike told me as much. According to him, Hank Weston stole the gold from the mine after Bloomfield died, but the man who killed Bloomfield did it for love, not money.”
“So, you’re saying someone other than Hank Weston killed Bloomfield, which then opened the door for Weston to jump his claim and make a fortune?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”
“It seems like this mystery keeps getting more and more convoluted.”
“Seems that’s the way with mysteries that stand the test of time. Those who know the facts die off, leaving only those who base their theories on tidbits of information that more often than not don’t or can’t form a clear picture.”
“I guess you make a good point.” I took the last sip of my coffee and set the mug on the counter. “In fact, the more we dig into this, the more certain I am that the secret Pike had been keeping close to his chest for so many years may have died with him.” I picked up the backpack, which had dried out while we’d been talking. “If that’s the case, the question I need to be asking is whether the secret had anything to do with Pike’s death.”
“I suppose there are a lot of reasons to kill a man. Some of them could have to do with what he knows, but it’s just as likely someone killed him for another reason entirely.”
I slipped the backpack onto Tilly’s back. “I guess Tony was right; grasping for a motive will only get me so far. I need real evidence if I’m going to figure out why Pike died.”
“Seems like you might want to talk to your brother about that,” Hap suggested.
“I tried to talk to him yesterday, but he wasn’t in a sharing frame of mind. I could tell he was concerned about something, however. The last time he had that look on his face was when he arrested Donny. I can’t help but wonder who’s next.” I put Tang in the pack. “Okay, it looks like we’re ready. The kids and I need to finish the route. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Try not to get too wet. There’s a nasty flu going around.”
As we continued the route, the snow definitely impeded our ability to get it done quickly, which meant we’d most likely still be walking the streets after dark if we didn’t find a way to pick up the pace. I considered canceling my appointment with Bella so I could work through lunch, but I wanted to find out more about Patricia, so I firmed up my resolve and began to walk faster. After two hours of trying to make up time and getting nowhere I made two decisions: the first was to run Tang and Tilly home—they were both wet and looked miserable—and the second was to call Bella to see if I could move our appointment to the next day. She was fine with meeting on Tuesday, so I settled Tang and Tilly on the dog bed near the fire, then went back out into the storm, determined to complete my route before the shops began to close at the end of the day.
******
“You look like something the cat dragged in,” Mom said later that afternoon as I entered the restaurant to make my final delivery.
“Long day, lots of snow, cold, and exhausted.”
“Have a
seat and I’ll get you some hot coffee and a sandwich. Where are the kids?”
“I took Tang and Tilly home. It was too miserable a day for them.” I took a sip of hot coffee that had never tasted better. “Your mail is in the bottom of my bag. I made you my last stop with the idea of doing just this, so everything in there should be yours.”
“Oh good, more cards.” Mom’s face lit up. “Look at this, Ruthie, two from Ireland and one from Italy.”
“The two from Ireland must be from the tour group that stopped in last fall,” Ruthie replied.
“I think you may be right.” Mom opened one of the cards. I couldn’t help but notice the blush she quickly tried to hide.
“What is it?” I asked.
“Nothing, dear. It’s just a nice card for our wall.”
Ruthie grabbed the card out of her hand and looked at it. She glanced at my mom and grinned. “It looks like someone has an admirer.”
“I don’t have an admirer. Romero is barely an acquaintance. He’s just a nice man with whom I happened to have a nice chat when he was passing through.”
Ruthie chuckled. “If you say so.” She passed the card to me. It was a beautiful card with a brief handwritten note.
“‘Dearest Cara’?” I said aloud.
“Romero is Italian. The Italians are a passionate people. Can we please change the subject?”
I suppressed a smile as I handed the card back to my mother. I couldn’t help but notice she slipped it into the pocket of her apron rather than hanging it on the wall with the other cards the café had received that day. My dad had been gone a long time and my mother was a beautiful woman, so I wasn’t sure why I was so surprised she’d caught the eye of one of the many men who passed through each day.
“Looks like there’s a letter for you mixed in with our mail,” Mom said as she handed me a white envelope. It had my name and address on it, but no stamp or postmark.
