by Suzi Weinert
She reached out to touch his arm. “Take…very special care of yourself. This war is fearsome for everybody but worst of all you soldiers.”
“I thank ya for the kind thoughts, Miss Selby.”
“You’ll come see us next time you’re out this way?”
“Yes, Miss Selby. I’d like that. Thanks for…for showing me the picture and…and for your family’s hospitality.” With effort, he turned to go, but faltered. “Don’t you worry, I will come back.”
“I’ll be waitin’… to see you.” She waved and he raised a hand in acknowledgement, before mounting and turning his horse for the ride back toward the treasure and his task there.
Would it still be where he left it? Or were the Blues lying in wait for his return?
CHAPTER 55
Jennifer woke with a wistful smile at the shy romance budding in last night’s strange vision. She remembered the electricity she and Jason felt when they’d first met.
Any war’s fear and insecurity triggered a hunger to link safety with stability like marriage. The sooner a lass wed in hostile times, the safer she thought she’d feel with someone strong at her side to protect her. But war’s reality dashed this wish, for besides her own life to lose came those of her beloved husband and children. Jennifer contrasted this with the peacetime gifts she took for granted in the very country the turbulent Civil War’s victory had created for her.
In a count-your-blessings mood, she descended the stairs, greeted Deputy Ryan, made coffee, brought in the newspaper and started a to-do list on fresh notepaper.
The first entry: “Rent Touring Car.” She sipped coffee before adding “Move to Hotel.”
Picturing this move underway, she wrote “More Carry-ons?” followed by “Inventory Safe to Assess Carry-on Needs.”
Grammy appeared in her robe. “The coffee aroma lured me.” She poured a cup and sat down to peruse the Naples Daily News.
“Coffee for you, Deputy?” Jennifer offered.
“Why, thank you, ma’am.”
“About what time did Becca get in last night?” Jennifer looked up at him.
“Ah, around 2:00?”
“Everything without incident last night?” she asked. He nodded. “Your shift ends in about an hour at 8 o’clock?” He nodded again before leaving to make his rounds in the house.
“Mom, could we look at all your suitcases this morning? Then we’ll know if we need to buy more carry-ons. Could you and I do that after breakfast? Becca may sleep in after her late night.”
Grammy nodded. “When do we move to the hotel?”
“Three o’clock check-in, so later this afternoon.”
“Does Peggy’s team come again today?”
“They said yesterday they would.”
Deputy Ryan came into the kitchen holding his cellphone. “Looks like they’re not sending another deputy to you today, so you’re on your own. I’ve double-checked doors and windows, the yard and garage. You’re okay now. Just be extra alert about who comes in, and maybe ask your granddaughter to make rounds periodically.”
“Thanks for keeping us safe.”
“Just doing my job, ma’am. We think it’s only a matter of time until they get Max Roderick. They’re looking hard for him.”
“Then, keep up the good work. Good-bye…and good luck.”
When he left, Jennifer and her mother went upstairs to empty the safe. They stacked boxes in piles the size of a carry-on.
“Two should do it,” Grammy calculated, “but let’s get three for extra room to add anything important we might discover around the house. With three of us, each of us could pull one carry-on, just as Goodwin advised.”
She opened a box they’d skipped before, sighing over what lay within. “Mementos of my years with Anthony. See, ticket stubs from philharmonic concerts, match folders from restaurants we liked, unusual shells we found walking the beach, birthday and Christmas cards and these little cards from flowers he sent me. And,” she picked up a folded paper, “here’s his last letter to me. I’ve read it so many times it’s almost falling apart.”
Unfolding it tenderly, she handed it to Jennifer.
“My darling Frances, When I look at you, everything I really wanted is right in front of me. The first time I saw you my heart whispered, ‘she’s the one.’ Our love, growing with each new moment we share, brings me the greatest happiness of my life. I told you once I would never leave you voluntarily, so it could happen only if I have no power to prevent it, such as if I’m dead.
Tomorrow I face my last dangerous mission. If (when?) I do come back, will you marry me, my love? If I don’t return from this or from any departure from your side on any day, you’ll know my last thought in this world will be of you, dearest one. With a heart overflowing with love for you, I am always your very own Anthony”
Speechless, Jennifer locked eyes with her mother, seeing for the first time a very different dimension in a woman she had thought she knew so well. Stunned at the letter’s power, emotion and suggestion, she managed to refold it, ease it into the envelope and lay it softly on her mother’s lap. Then she jumped up to hug her, wordlessly sharing what women the world over understood about the joy and pain of love.
Grammy wiped at a tear. To draw their attention elsewhere, she pointed toward the boxes. “Shall…shall we lock them in the safe until our last day in Naples instead of coping with them at the hotel?” She straightened, tucking the letter gently back into the box. “Let’s each copy the combination so it can’t get lost.”
“Good thought, dearest Mom.”
Grammy blew her nose into a delicate linen handkerchief. “Let’s inventory the luggage,” she said briskly.
* * * * *
Becca appeared for lunch, still in her pajamas. “Such a good time last night. I’d like you to meet my friend. Maybe when he picks me up tonight?”
“Great. By the way, we move to the hotel around 3:00 today. Can he pick you up there?”
“Oh, right. I forgot.” She munched a sandwich. “Say, isn't Thursday your new salon day, Grammy?”
Grammy nodded.
“I need a haircut. If you can get me an appointment with someone really good, could I come along with you two?”
“Let’s see if I can arrange it.” Jennifer reached for the rolodex. “Chelsea’s info in here, Mom? Good. What’s it listed under?”
“’B’ for Beauty Shop. The shop’s not open yet—summer hours—so you might try her home number.”
“Ah, here it is.” Jennifer dialed the home number and pressed speaker. “Hi, Chelsea, this is Jen. I…”
“Glad you called. I have a solution for your problem. You remember the colors we talked about last time in the shop? Well, forget yellow and red. Black is the right hair color for you. So concentrate only on black.
“You need to make an appointment quickly because I have a special on right now. Black’s a winner for you. You’ll be stunned at the power of this color and what it can do. Do you still have that sketch I made for you, the…the one showing your face with the three different hair colors? Study it and you’ll see I’m right. Black’s the correct choice. I…I have to hang up now but good talking with y…”
The call cut out, mid-word.
Jennifer frowned at her phone and exchanged puzzled looks with Becca and Grammy as she processed this odd message. Then she remembered Chelsea’s self-defense course colors. In a flash of understanding, she dialed Goodwin’s number but reached his voice mail.
Frustrated, she phoned the sheriff’s office. “This is Jennifer Shannon reporting a life threatening emergency. I must speak to Deputy Goodwin…. Not there? Can you reach him…? Okay, then Deputy Ryan or Deputy Julie Martin? I’m giving you names of your people who know what this is about and can arrange help fast.
“All right, from the beginning. Send armed deputies immediately to rescue Chelsea Amaryllis, who just called me begging for help. An escaped felon named Max Roderick has broken into her house wanting revenge. She’s in te
rrible danger. Get your people there fast or he will kill her. Her address?” She read from Grammy’s rolodex card. “Here it is. Hurry. Her life depends on it.”
CHAPTER 56
Jennifer ended the sheriff’s office call to try Goodwin’s number again, this time leaving him the same message.
Becca and Grammy frowned. Had Jennifer gone off the deep end?
Grabbing purse and car keys, Jennifer started for the garage door when she felt a hand tighten on her arm.
“No.” Grammy spoke in a firm voice Jennifer hadn’t heard since childhood. “You put the rescue in motion, but your job ends there. Deputies have the men, the training and the weapons Chelsea needs now, and they can reach her faster with their sirens.”
Jennifer hesitated, then drooped. “You’re right. What was I thinking?”
But she knew the answer: her mother and Chelsea weren’t safe until Max returned to prison.
She wrapped her arms around her mother just as she’d done as a little girl. Together they eased back into the house.
“It’s always something with our family,” Becca mumbled. “Just when I think it can’t get any crazier…”
Jennifer’s phone rang. “Goodwin here. I’m on my way to Chelsea. Tell me what happened.”
Jennifer described Chelsea’s cryptic phone conversation and how she translated it into danger from Roderick.
“Thanks.” His terse response reflected concentration as he sped toward the crime.
To ease the tension they shared, Jennifer turned their attention to something else. “Let’s…let’s inventory Grammy’s suitcases while we wait for the other shoe to drop.”
“They’re in the under-the-stairs closet,” Grammy reminded.
“I’ll do it,” Becca offered. “I slept the morning away instead of helping, so it’s my turn.”
She returned in a few minutes to report. “Two very large suitcases, three medium and three carry-ons. All on wheels.”
“Good.”
Grammy looked at the list over Jennifer’s shoulder. “So all that’s left to do is just renting a car for the trip and moving to the hotel. That’s easy enough.”
“And solve the Thursday beauty shop appointments,” Becca reminded. They exchanged looks of uncertainty about how this might unfold now.
Jennifer added it to the list. “Why don’t we stage everything we’ll take to the hotel near the front door, the way the movers did? You two get started while I rent the touring car.” They all jumped at the doorbell chime. “Becca, please see who’s there, but be careful.”
Becca looked out before unlocking the door. “Hello, Peggy. More tagging? Sure, come in? How many of you? Just two. Fine. Finish upstairs and then start down here? Good.” She returned to the kitchen and said quietly, “Come on, Grammy, let’s gather our stuff.”
Jennifer’s recent conjuring intruded as she gathered her belongings for the hotel. The riddle’s mystery nagged at her, bringing to mind her father’s Civil War Study Group. If only he were here to share insights about her riddle and map, but instead, maybe his friend, John Birdsong, could. She searched for the number and dialed.
“Hi, John. It’s Jennifer, Fran Ryerson’s daughter…. Yes, she’s feeling well, thank you for asking, and she’s also adjusted well to her decision to move to Virginia…. When do we go? In another week. If you have a minute, may I ask you some Civil War questions…? Okay. First, do you know what happened to your uncle, Raiford Birdsong, the poet who fought in the Civil War?”
“Funny you should ask. We really don’t. They listed him ‘missing in action’ and later ‘presumed dead.’ He failed to return from the war, which wasn’t that uncommon. Many soldiers were buried where they fell. Circumstances didn’t always allow those burying casualties to check a deceased’s pockets for identification, or even if they did, to get that information to headquarters to filter it back to relatives. I suppose it’s possible he survived and lived a long life, but our ancestors back then insisted it was inconceivable he wouldn’t tell them he was alive, even if he chose to live elsewhere.”
“You said you put out some feelers regarding my map and riddle. Any responses?”
“A lot of curiosity but so far no leads to help you. If your riddle and map are genuine, this could be a remarkable find. Mosby’s treasure fits the riddle’s first part, but I know of no historical accounts to confirm its existence, never mind anyone burying it, digging it up or reburying it.”
“Any other observations?”
“Yours isn’t a true map. It’s what’s called a field map—more a sketch than an accurate map. Supplying field offices with maps was tough for the South throughout the war. They had no established government mapping agencies capable of printing large-scale maps and almost total absence of surveying and drafting equipment. Add to that the lack of printing presses and paper and you see why few real maps existed. Some areas had never been mapped at all. These landmarks—the Potomac River, Arlington, Falls Church and the railroad on your field map— suggest it’s what we now call Great Falls, but that covers miles of acreage. My guess is the smaller insert showing a rectangle with the X against one side is in that area. Unfortunately, every bit of it is privately or publicly owned now.”
“Hopeless then?”
“Never say never. This area isn’t too far from Fairfax Courthouse, where Mosby allegedly rescued the treasure from Stoughton. The treasure legends I read suggest he buried it on the way south to Culpeper. So it’s all geographically possible, as the riddle says. But why would he take it north?”
“To Gen. Lee’s home or headquarters? Or,” she thought of what she’d seen so clearly in her vision, “to a Mosby safe house?”
“Now there’s an idea…yeah, maybe so.” He laughed. “Are you about to get a metal detector to go relic hunting?”
“Why not?”
His second laugh had an edge. “If you do, proceed very carefully. Relic hunting was simple enough forty or fifty years ago, but now you need an owner’s permission or pay a fat fine if you don’t and you’re caught. And this includes parkland, where the fines are huge. So learn the Virginia rules before you start.”
She remembered her reverie. “Have you a way to research owners of old farms in the McLean area, like Gentry or Parker?”
“I’ll look into it, but why do you suggest them?”
How could she explain? “Just something I dreamed up.” She smiled at that truth. “Thanks for your interest and your help, John. Would you mind sending me the information about your relative, Raiford? Here are my phone number and e-mail address.” She rattled them off.
“Got it,” he said. “I’ll do it when we hang up. Oh, by the way, apparently your dad tucked money into some of the books you gave me. The bills fell out when I looked through the volumes. I collected $37 in all. Shall I mail you a check?”
“Thanks, John. We discovered he hid cash in a lot of books in the study. Appreciate your honesty. Please contribute it in his name to your Civil War Study Group. We leave for Virginia soon. You have my contact info. Nice meeting you and thanks for your efforts on my behalf.” She ended the call and hustled to put her hotel items near the front door with the others.
“What about the safe?” Grammy whispered when she returned.
Becca considered this. “We can’t protect the contents at the hotel because we can’t be with those carry-ons every minute, and there’s too much to haul to the hotel safe.”
Grammy added, “So let’s leave it all securely locked in the safe here at the house. Let’s tell Peggy the bookcase hiding the safe is not for sale. Nobody will even know the safe’s behind it. Then the morning we leave for McLean, we can come here first to empty the safe into our carry-ons for the trip as planned.”
Jennifer smiled. “Good thinking, gals.
At 3:00 when Peggy and her estate sale helpers finished their organizing for the day, Jennifer and Becca loaded the car, helped Grammy in and drove to the hotel.
As a bellman handled their luggage a
nd a valet took the car, Jennifer approached the front desk. “The reservation is in my name but Deputy Goodwin of the Collier County Sheriff’s department told us to check-in under another name to protect us from someone trying to harm us.”
“We’d need the deputy’s signed authorization form to do this,” the desk clerk explained.
“Then I’ll phone him.” Her call reached his voice mail so she left a message. She told the desk clerk, “Look, I can’t reach him now but what if I check in with my real name, then when we get his authorization, can you change it to the name he provides?”
“I guess so.” They completed registration and the bellman took them to their suite of rooms.
“Oh,” Becca cried, looking out the floor-to-ceiling sliders to the balcony, “the view is breath-taking.”
Grammy grinned. “I couldn’t ask for a lovelier place to say goodbye to my Naples.”
After they unpacked, Becca donned bathing suit and cover-up. “I’m headed to the pool. Want to come along to see what else this place offers?”
Grammy sat on the bed. “I’ll just lie down a minute. You two go ahead.”
On the elevator Jennifer asked, “What time is Tony coming?”
“Six.”
“That’s in two hours. While you swim, I’ll explore the lobby stores and peek into the dining room and lounge. Then I’ll come poolside to cheer you on.”
An hour later, Jennifer returned to the room and asked her mother, “Any word from Goodwin?”
Grammy shook her head.
“Then I’m going to call him.” But she reached his voice mail. Next, she tried Chelsea’s number. No answer, voice mail full.
“Why would Goodwin wait this long to tell us what happened when I alerted him about Chelsea’s danger? Doesn’t he owe us that courtesy?”
She’d barely hung up when the cellphone in her hand played its tune. “Jennifer? Goodwin here. Can’t talk now but thanks for your call about Chelsea. Will explain later tonight.”
