“It will mean that all our efforts, and all the money we’ve invested has paid off. They had heard about Riverbend from somewhere else. They are also anxious for the hotel to open up. Apparently, there are other people they want to bring in to look our town over.”
“Oh, I’m so excited. And the hotel is to have open house before Thanksgiving.”
“Now, how about what you wanted to discuss? You’ll be getting busy here again soon.”
“Oh, yeah. That seems so unimportant now. But, Grandpa, there is a pretty good size farm on the East side of South Street, that I own. And the idea came to me that there are a lot of people who don’t need, or even want, three and four bedroom houses…couples, and single people. And this piece of land could be used to build some pretty little two bedroom, affordable houses on small lots. What do you think? Do you think they would sell? Is there a big enough need to undertake something like that?”
“I know that farm. It belonged to Sarah and Pete Wilshire. It had been in the Wilshire family for several generations. I recall the day Sarah buried Pete. Her grandson brought her here right from the burying. He wanted to sell Willy the farm, so he could take his grandmother home with him right then. Actually, it was about the first piece of real estate that Willy invested in.” He started chuckling. “I’m proud of you for coming up with such an idea. Shows you’re using your head. Actually, our minds run on the same track. But my idea is just a little different, and that farm would be perfect for it.”
“You knew I owned that farm?”
“No. I knew that Willy had bought it at a very good price, but I didn’t know what had become of it. I’m glad you still own it. Owning the land free and clear is all you need when you go to the bank to borrow money. And what I have in mind is going to take a lot of it.”
“What is it?” Addie asked rather skeptically. She didn’t like the talk of borrowing a lot of money. She hadn’t thought that far ahead.
“A fenced and gated community for senior citizens completely contained within itself. Retired people will move here from all over.”
“Huh?”
“A neighborhood of one floor, on bedroom cottages on very small lots – perhaps duplexes with two car garages between the living quarters for privacy. There’ll be centered around a shopping complex that would include everything they needed. There’d be a restaurant and recreational facilities, housing and lawn maintenance, even maid service if they wanted it.”
“Grandpa! That sounds fantastic. How long have you been planning this? We’ll have to talk about it some more,” she said as the members began to leave from their dinner. Others would be coming in.
“I’ll be around when you have a free moment.” He said and left for the library.
Addie hoped so. There was still so much she wanted to tell him. There was Sully and her grandmother’s engagement, Henrietta and Grant Cutler’s meeting. Grandpa really liked her Aunt Henrietta. He had once said that he wished she had lived in his day. He was sure he would have fallen in love with her at first sight. Then she had reminded him that she wouldn’t have gotten to know him if that had happened. She wished she could tell him about her problems with Donnie. But if he’d never been in love, how could he understand? And she was afraid that was her problem. She was in love. But hers wasn’t a happy, carefree love like Wylene’s. There was a hurt inside her when she thought of Donnie. She supposed it was because she was afraid – afraid that nothing would ever come of it. And after today, that seemed pretty certain.
It was after ten o’clock when Addie finally closed the big front door. Miss Judy had long since gone to her room, after helping to get the food ready for Sunday’s brunch. She played the organ at her small church where they had services first then Bible study.
And she always stayed on Saturday nights to help Miss Mattie get ready for Sunday. And she stayed to get the tables ready, and the floors spruced up. After all, what else did either of them have to do on a Saturday night?
She really wanted to talk to her mother – to tell her of the prospects of a factory opening up in Riverbend, but that could wait until it was absolutely certain. Still it was exciting and she longed to confide in someone. She locked the door, and hung the big, brass key on the hook beside it. She remembered her promise to call her mother. She dialed the number from the hostess station. She hoped her mother had not gone to sleep yet. She wanted her to get all the rest and sleep that she could. The baby could come anytime now. As soon as Della answered, Addie said, “We’re just closing up. I’ll be coming by in a few minutes. I’ll toot my horn. See you in the morning. Love you.”
“I’ll be listening, then I’ll go to sleep. I love you, honey. Goodnight.”
Mattie met her at the side door of the dining room, waiting to lock the door after her. She was already in her robe an house shoes, and yawning.
“I’m really tired tonight,” Mattie said. “I’m thankful that tomorrow is Sunday, and most of the brunch is already prepared. I’ll confess I felt the need for a sleeping pill tonight. I’ll be in a deep asleep by the time my head hits the pillow. I’ll see you at early services in the morning.” And she kissed Addie on the cheek. “Goodnight, Dear.”
Hugging Miss Mattie goodnight, she said. “Yes, ma’am,” and went out the door. And heard the lock click behind her. She stood there on the small porch a moment, breathing deeply of the cool, fresh night air. She rummaged in her shoulder bag for her car keys while she was still in the light of the porch. Her car was parked on the far right back of the employee parking area, but the porch light was enough for her to see her way to it.
She retrieved her keys and was adjusting her shoulder bag on her shoulder when she realized that someone was standing against the building beside the tall, thin, evergreen in the planter beside the porch. She sucked in her breath in surprise and fear.
“Well, Red, you finally came out. You certainly took your time about it,” a low, husky, male voice said impatiently as a man stepped from behind the shrub and jumped up onto the porch.
Addie was frozen in her tracks, not knowing what to do. The man grabbed her shoulder bag from off her shoulder, and a scream died in her throat when she saw his face under the porch light.
“You!” she exclaimed.
“Oh! You know me! Well, good. That saves us an introduction.”
“Of course I know you. You look just like him. You’re Bo Ryker. What are you doing here? And give me back my purse,” she demanded, as she grabbed for it, but he held onto it, yanking it out of her reach.
“For starters,” he said calmly, “I want to know how my father died. And don’t give me the newspaper account. I’ve read that.”
Addie wondered what her chances would be if she ran? She still held her car keys in her hand. No. From the way he jumped up onto the porch, she’d never make it. Hopefully, that was all he wanted – to know how his father died. “He, he’d just taken a pot of boiling water off the stove and sat it on a pedestal table in front of him. He had my hands tied to the post under the table. He slapped me. The table rocked and tilted the boiling water onto him. He grabbed for his clothes, and he had a long bladed knife in his right hand. I guess he forgot about the knife when the boiling water hit him, because he stabbed himself in the heart as he grabbed at his clothes.”
Bo Ryker didn’t say anything, just looked at her. She supposed he was trying to decide if he believed her or not.
Finally, he said, “And why were your hands tied to the table? And was it a knife like this one? And he flipped out a long knife from his pants’ pocket, touched a button, and a long, steel blade flew out, pointed at her middle.
She gasped in fear. “Ye-, yes.” It would do no good to scream. No one would hear her. Miss Mattie was in a drugged, sound sleep by now. Everyone else was too far away in the building. Grandpa was the only one who could hear her, and he couldn’t come outside the mansion. “Oh, Grandpa,” she moaned silently. “What can I do?”
“He, he wanted me to tell him where somethi
ng was,” she answered, her voice quivering.
“And what was it he wanted?” he demanded in a calm, mocking voice.
“He never said. Just kept calling it ‘it’.”
“But you knew it was the rest of the one million dollars. Didn’t you? He was to get it, and then come for me. Dad and Miss Stone were the only ones who were supposed to know where she had hidden the money. But you found it, and now I’m here to get it.” He jabbed the knife close to her stomach.
“I don’t have it. It’s all been spent,” she said flinching.
“That’s too bad,” he said. “That means we switch to plan B. There has to always be an alternative plan,” he said in that deadly calm voice that made her insides tremble.
He was even closer to her now. He took her arm in a tight grip. “I like one million better than seven hundred and fifty thousand anyway. Yeah. We’re going to like plan B.”
“But I don’t have ...”
“Don’t worry about it,” he hastily added. “Somebody has it. Perhaps the town will come up with it. I’ve learned that you’re very well like and respected by this whole town.”
The thought occurred to Addie, he’s going to kidnap me – hold me for a million dollars. He was pulling her off the porch, down the steps. “You’re going to kidnap me!” she exclaimed.
“Plan B,” he said, his fingers digging into her arm. “We’ll go in your car, but I’ll drive.”
“NO!” she screamed. Her mother would be frantic. She would not put her through anything like that. “I WON’T!”
“Sure you will.”
She heard her bag drop to the driveway. His fist flew at her so fast she didn’t see it coming, and then felt the pain. She didn’t know anything more until she was coming to, lying on the concrete, her head pounding, her chin and neck throbbing. Moaning, she turned her head to see if it would move.
Grandpa! Grandpa was just a few feet from her! He was hovering over somebody lying prone on the driveway! She must be dreaming! “Grandpa?” she asked as she heard Bo Ryker’s weak voice beg, “Don’t. Please don’t.” Then he was quiet.
Grandpa turned to her. “You all right, young Addie?”
“Grandpa! What are you doing outside the mansion? I know you’re there, but I can hardly see you! I think he hit me. It must have affected my eyesight. And, Oh, my head hurts,” she moaned as she came to a sitting position which made her head throb even more. “Grandpa! You’re outside! You can’t come outside!”
Grandpa was now hovering beside her. “You called me, young Addie. You needed me.”
“But, I don’t understand. How did you get outside? Why are you fading? Your voice is leaving me. Grandpa!”
“I know what love is. I love you, young Addie,” he said, his voice barely there in her mind. “I’m free now,” he added faintly.
She could barely see his form, as she yelled aloud, “No! Grandpa! You can’t leave me! I love you!” And very faintly, she heard him say, “I know.” And he was gone. She could no longer see him. Addie burst into sobs, begging, “Grandpa, don’t leave me. Please, don’t leave me.”
Then her mother was bending over her. “Addie, honey, what’s wrong?” Where is grandpa? Why are you sitting here – on the concrete?”
“Oh, Mama, grandpa’s gone. He’s gone, and he’ll never be back. I won’t have him anymore, and I love him so much. Oh, Mama,” she moaned leaning against her mother.
“Honey, I’m so sorry.” She patted Addie and rubbed her hand down the back of her head. “Addie, you need to tell us what’s been going on here? Are you hurt? Who is this man lying here? What’s wrong with him?”
“I think he socked me. My chin hurts, and my neck, and my head is pounding. Oh, Grandpa!” she wailed.
“Oh, my Baby,” Della said lovingly. “Remember, I told you once that the pain of parting is the price you have to pay for loving someone. You’ll get over it, my Darling. It’ll just take time.”
Addie clung to her mother as she cried. She didn’t want to get over it, she just wanted grandpa back. She’d be lost without him.
Then she saw the familiar figure of Donnie Whitefield bending over the man on the driveway, searching his pockets and other parts of his clothing.
“What are you doing here?” she asked. “We had our little talk, remember?” But talking made her head pound. She held it with both hands.
Donnie took the few steps to face Addie. He knelt down, whispering, he said, “This is serious, Addie. Do you know who this man is? And what’s he doing here?”
“He’s B. J. Ryker’s son, Bo. He was going to kidnap me for a million dollars,” she said snubbing. “I guess grandpa did something to him. We’d better go before he comes to,” she added, struggling to get to her feet, as her mother helped her. “Oh, my head!” she moaned grabbing it again with both hands. “Oh, Grandpa,” she cried.
“We don’t have to worry about him coming to. He has no pulse, he’s cold as ice, and stiff as a board. He’s dead!” Donnie said just above a whisper.
Della gasped, “Dead!”
“Ssshhh,” Donnie said. “Whisper. Nobody must know we’re here.”
Addie exclaimed, “He’s not dead! Grandpa had to stop him from hurting me anymore, and from kidnapping me. He probably used his cold hands on him.”
“Oh, he used them all right, and be quiet, Addie!” Donnie demanded in a low voice. Then he returned to Bo Ryker and was removing his shoes.
Addie and Della watched, puzzled, as he searched the shoes and replaced them on the man’s feet.
“You’re sure he’s dead?” Della whispered.
“Very much so.”
“Then we have to call the police.”
“Get Addie’s purse,” he said to Della. “Where are your keys?” he asked Addie.
“I don’t know. They were in my hand when he hit me.”
Donnie began searching the concrete around her and Bo Ryker from the glow of light furnished by the Lincoln and the porch light. He picked up the knife, closed it and stuck it in his pants pocket. “Oh. Here they are,” he said picking up her keys close to the porch steps.
“I don’t feel like driving,” Addie moaned. Then she watched Donnie fling her keys in the direction of her parked car. “Are you crazy?”
Donnie put his face right in front of Addie. “Keep your voice down,” he pleaded. “You lost your keys and had to call your mother to come pick you up. Remember? Now get in the car, please,” he added.
“Donnie, we need to call ...”
“Della, we’re not calling anybody. We’re getting out of here as quickly, and as quietly as we can.” Then he put his arm gently around Addie’s waist, moving her toward the Lincoln parked only a few feet away.
Della just stood there looking at Donnie then at Bo Ryker’s body.
“Please get in the car. I’ll explain later. We have to get away from here, believe me,” he begged.
Slowly, Della moved to the back door of the car that Donnie was holding open for her. She got in beside Addie. “Do you think you need to go to the clinic?” She asked Addie.
“She can’t go to the clinic,” Donnie said as he got into the driver’s seat, lowered the car’s lights to the parking lights, turned the big car around and drove slowly back down the drive and through the gates before turning on the head lights. When he reached River Road, he said to Della, “You have to think about this, Della. Six months ago that man’s father died in the kitchen at Stonegate under circumstance not exactly as reported in the newspaper. Now his son dies just outside the building, frozen to death in fifty-five degree temperature. The man was cold as ice. The only thing I’ve ever felt any colder was Eli Gates’ hand. Now how could we explain that to the police? How could the police explain it?”
“Oh,” Della said. “I just didn’t think about it.”
Instead of turning left, he turned the car right – in the direction of the bridge, while Della wondered where he was going? Midway the bridge, he stopped, lowered the window, and th
rew something into the river. Then rolling the window up, he said, “The knife,” and proceeded on to the shopping center where he turned the car around and headed back to Victoria Park. Della had not said anything, just sat thinking. “As it is,” Donnie said, “somebody will find his body in the morning, probably thawed out, but dead, and with no identification, but a little money in his pocket. I couldn’t tell how much – just a thin wad of bills. To the police, it will be an unidentified man who wandered onto the property and dropped dead of no apparent cause.”
“What did you do with his identification?” Addie asked.
“He didn’t have any. I even looked in his shoes. I guess it was part of his scheme. I just hope that where ever he stashed his ID, the police never find it.”
“I’m sure you’re right, Donnie,” Della said thoughtfully. “All I could think of was Addie. Thank you for thinking for us. But I’m sure Chief Bugg will be around asking question. Addie is the last one to leave the mansion. I guess the paperboy will find him. He always comes around the building to leave Mattie’s paper in that box on the wall beside the delivery door.”
“I’d prefer that he find him rather than Mattie,” Donnie said, then they listened the rest of the way to Addie’s house, as she told them exactly what had happened after the door to the mansion was closed behind her.
Della didn’t like this one little bit. Was this legacy always going to mean harm to her daughter? Would she ever be safe again?
With her own key, she opened the door to her daughter’s little house as Donnie walked behind her, his arm around Addie.
Addie didn’t object to Donnie leading her into her house with his arm around her. Her head was pounding, her jaw was throbbing, and her heart was broken. She had lost grandpa and would never see him again, or hear his voice in her mind again. But he had loved her. He knew what love was now. He could be at rest. She would have to settle for that. She didn’t have her daddy anymore either, and Donnie didn’t really care for her. She was a fool to ever think that he had. She knew her mother loved her, but she had her family now, and would soon have a baby to love and care for. She was feeling very much alone and miserable as she lay down on her sofa facing it’s back, pulled a pillow over her head and began to cry, just adding to the throbbing in her head. She just wanted to be left alone in her misery.
The Daughters of Julian Dane Page 77
