Horace took the microphone from him and spoke in an effort to break the tension. Ignoring the exchange between Norman Rank and Rowland, he said, “I’d just like to say a few words.” He cleared his throat. “First of all, as many of you know, I am thrilled to be living in Snowflake. Even though I’m not a longtime resident, as most of you are, I can honestly say I’ve fallen in love with this town and am happy to be working on my research in a place that was so important during the Revolution.”
“Get on with it, Horace. We love you too,” one man called out. Several people laughed nervously. At the same moment, the outer door slammed shut. Richard Rowland had stormed out of the hall. Lucky breathed a sigh of relief.
Horace, ignoring Rowland’s exit, smiled broadly at the jest. “So . . . let me just say, the tiny remnants we discovered were very exciting. We believe the fabric will be found to be homespun cloth and in colors created with native plants. Besides the skeleton and fabric fragments we uncovered some very astonishing articles. We came across silver shoe buckles and a powder horn. Now that doesn’t necessarily mean he was a militiaman, since many of the colonists hunted for game, but he could have been. On the powder horn there were carvings. Very lovely, like scrimshaw. If anyone is interested, I will have some photos I can make available.”
“What kind of carving?” a woman asked.
“It was a small carving of a house, a house in the colonial salt box style, most likely the home of this man. Underneath that was a date—1777. And that’s not all—on the other side . . .” Horace paused for a moment, making sure he had everyone’s attention. “On the other side was carved, ‘This horn belongs to Nathanael Jared Cooper, may this powder kepe saf my home.’”
Cordelia Rank stood, her face white. Her husband took her hand and urged her back into the seat.
“And,” Horace continued, “lodged in the remains was the projectile that probably killed this poor man. We are having it analyzed to see if it is alloyed like the bullets made at home in the Colonies. You may know this already, but many people melted their household pewter—which is tin and lead—to make these lead balls during desperate times.
“More importantly—and this is the astounding fact—this lead piece showed evidence of scoring that indicates it was fired from a rifle. The colonists had been using rifles for some time, but British regulars shot only muskets. So, whatever killed this poor man, it was not a British bullet. Perhaps he was killed by friendly fire, as they say. Or perhaps he was killed because he was a traitor to the cause.”
Cordelia stood, her lips pinched, her face ghastly white, and shouted, “You are a liar and a fraud. My ancestor was a patriot!”
Chapter 20
NATE EDGERTON WASN’T long on patience at the best of times, but before the meeting could erupt in shouts and chaos, he took over. Horace, stunned by Cordelia’s outburst, relinquished the microphone to Nate immediately. Professor Arnold looked from one to the other for an explanation of Cordelia’s shouted words.
“All right, everyone, that’s enough. Settle down.” Nate’s voice held such authority that people were silenced immediately and resumed their seats.
“After I’m done, you’re free to ask all the questions you like of Professors Arnold and Winthorpe, but before everyone disperses and heads home, I have a very urgent announcement to make.” Nate surveyed the room. “It appears, unless someone here has evidence to the contrary, that Mayor Elizabeth Dove is missing.”
One woman cried out in shock. Lucky heard several gasps. Nate continued. “Lucky Jamieson has brought it to my attention that Elizabeth hasn’t been seen since the evening of August tenth. Her assistant at her office has not spoken with her, or heard from her.”
“How do you know she just didn’t go out of town for a few days, Nate?” a man called out.
Nate heaved a sigh. “There’s always that possibility, but it doesn’t seem to line up with what we all know of Elizabeth.”
Lucky felt a hand grasp her arm. Startled, she turned to see Edward Embry, a look of shock on his face. “Is this true, Lucky? No one knows where Elizabeth is?”
“Yes. It’s true. I haven’t seen her or been able to reach her since the day of the demonstration—or since Harry was discovered. And she hadn’t told Jessie, her assistant, that she’d be away.”
“She definitely would have let someone in her office know if she was taking a few days off,” he said thoughtfully.
Nate allowed the buzzing in the room to continue for a minute or so. Then he tapped the microphone to get everyone’s attention. “We have to assume that she is officially a missing person and operate accordingly. I’ve contacted the State Police, who have already stepped in, and the FBI, who will be sending a team.” He glanced at Sophie, who nodded affirmatively. “Flyers have been prepared and need to be distributed. Please, everyone. Please pick some flyers up on your way out, and post them wherever you can. Talk to everyone you know, and let them know about this. This will hit the news media tomorrow.”
“Nate!” a woman called out. “Maybe she’s had an accident.”
“Could be, could be. But her car has not been reported. There have been no hospital or morgue admissions that match her description. We are putting this out on the web, as well. There are many organizations that do good work publicizing the missing and locating them nationwide. We plan to use all the resources at our disposal. What I want from all of you here tonight is to see me before you leave, and I emphasize this: Let me know if you have seen Elizabeth Dove in the last four days. She was seen publicly at the demonstration, and last seen leaving her office that evening. If you have any knowledge of her whereabouts after the evening of the tenth, make sure you talk to me before you go. My deputy Bradley is at the rear of the hall with Sergeant Steve Woczinski of the State Police.” Nate nodded in his direction and several heads turned to stare at the Sergeant. “We are organizing a ground search of areas around the town and the woods and we desperately need volunteers. If you can help, please do so.”
“You got it, Nate,” Barry Sanders called out. He looked as shocked as the rest of the crowd. Lucky was heartened by Nate’s quick response and the feeling of concern in the room for Elizabeth.
“Give Deputy Moffitt your name and contact information. We’ll be starting early tomorrow morning with the help of the State Police, but again, we need all the volunteers we can get. We’ll split people up into groups and organize searches by grids and by areas. Sad to say, people do go missing in Vermont and all across the country. Sometimes they’re found. Let’s hope this is one of those times.” Nate turned and handed the microphone back to Horace. He looked toward the back of the room where Bradley waited. A small table had been set up with several pads of paper. Anyone who could meet at the designated time was to list their name and contact numbers to join a search party.
“Nate,” a man in the rear called out. “What about Harry Hodges?”
Nate took the microphone from Horace. Before he could answer, a woman called out, “Have you arrested anyone?”
Nate cleared his throat. “This is an ongoing investigation. I can’t comment on that as yet.” Nate passed the microphone back to Horace and walked to the rear of the hall.
Horace spoke into the microphone. “Everyone, please, if you possibly can, fold up your chairs and place them against the side wall. Thank you.”
Sophie stood next to Lucky, one of the cardboard boxes in her arms. “Let’s make sure no one escapes without a bunch of these.” Sophie hauled a batch of flyers out of the box and handed half the pile to Lucky. She took another stack and placed them on the table where Nate, Bradley and Sergeant Woczinski stood.
Most of the crowd headed in their direction. It seemed everyone was ready to volunteer whatever free time they had to join in the search. Lucky and Sophie blocked the exit door, checking that every person leaving had a small stack of flyers to take with them. Lucky glanced down. A photo of Elizabeth run by the Snowflake Gazette when she was elected Mayor filled one quarter of
the page. The word MISSING was emblazoned across the top. Sophie had done a good job preparing the flyers. They read, “Police are asking for the public’s help in finding a missing woman last seen on August 10. She is described as 58 years old, 5’5” weighing 130 pounds. She was last seen wearing a white blouse and navy skirt. If you have any information, please contact . . .” and then the flyer listed several numbers and e-mails, with websites for further information.
Lucky fought a wave of terror. A woman she had known all her life, summed up in one paragraph that conveyed such dread. There was simply no way to shut off the pictures that flashed through her mind of what might have happened to Elizabeth.
Marjorie and Cecily were the first to approach. “Oh, Lucky. This is just terrible. First Harry and now this. What’s happening in Snowflake?”
Lucky wiped her eyes and took a deep breath. She could barely choke out the words. “I don’t know, Cecily. I just don’t know.”
“Do you think this could have something to do with Harry’s murder?” Cecily breathed.
“You know, it’s strange. That’s what I’ve been wondering. It was the news of Harry’s murder that first made me worry. Elizabeth would have certainly called us or come to see us. That’s when I really started to worry—the fact that we didn’t hear from her at all after that was just too strange.” Several groups had collected behind Marjorie and Cecily. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to cut this short. I just want to make sure no one leaves without several of these to post around town.”
“Of course,” Cecily said, taking a batch of the flyers. “We’ll stop in at the Spoonful tomorrow to see you and we’ll sign up with Nate. Whatever we can do, we will.”
“Thank you.”
Janie and Jack had packed up leftovers and washed out the coffee urn. Jack had returned to the hall and with Horace’s help was busy folding up the remaining chairs, stacking them at the side of the room.
Professor Arnold, carrying his briefcase, approached Lucky. “Why don’t I take some with me, back to the University. I can have some of my students post them at school and around town.” He didn’t say it, but Lucky thought his tone implied it was a long shot that any news of Elizabeth could come from another town.
“Thank you. I really appreciate that. Anything you can do.”
“I’ll talk to my students. Maybe they’ll have some time to volunteer in the search. Tough business. I’m really sorry.” Horace followed Professor Arnold to the door and shook his hand. He returned to offer help packing up.
“Thanks, Horace. I think Jack has everything loaded on carts, but we’d love a hand back to the Spoonful.”
“Be glad to. And I’ll be going out with Nate and Bradley first thing tomorrow. Happy to do all I can for Elizabeth. I’m sure we’ll find her.”
Lucky nodded, unable to speak. “I’ll just check on Jack and see what he needs.” The first box of flyers was empty. The second box, half full. “Sophie, do you want to bring these back to the Spoonful?”
“Sure, and I’ll take a pile up to the Resort and post them everywhere I can.” Sophie reached out and pulled her close in a hug. Then she pulled away, grasping Lucky’s shoulders and looking in her eyes. “She’s not dead.”
Lucky nodded in response.
“She’s not. I just know it.”
Chapter 21
THE NEXT MORNING, Lucky and Sophie stood in the entry hall of Elizabeth’s home watching another police officer as he moved carefully around the first floor, checking windows and door locks. Charlie had bounded down the stairs, his bell jingling when he heard voices. At the sight of two strange men, he trotted to the dining room cabinet and hunkered underneath it.
Sergeant Woczinski was questioning them again. Lucky reiterated her movements. “The only thing I found out of place was the mail on the floor right here and two magazines and a flyer on the porch swing.”
“Where did you put them?”
Lucky pointed to the hallway table. “Right there. The magazines and the flyer were too big to fit through the slot, so the mailman had to leave those on the swing outside.”
The other officer returned to the entry hall. “Doesn’t look like anything was disturbed here. No sign at all of a break-in. Whatever happened, I’m inclined to think she left home voluntarily.”
“Sophie and I thought we’d take another look through her desk and cabinet if that’s okay. Just on the off chance there’s something that might give us an idea.”
“Go right ahead. We’ve already searched but maybe you’d notice something that we missed. If so, let us know. Make sure no one else enters or knows about that spare key. We’re going to canvas the neighbors now and then get back to the ground search. Here’s my number.” He pulled two cards out of his pocket and handed one to each of them. “Call me if you come up with anything, anything at all.”
Lucky followed the men to the front door and locked it behind them. She walked into the dining room and knelt in front of the china cabinet, calling to Charlie, “Come out, Charlie. Come on, big guy. The scary men are gone.” Charlie trilled and rushed into Lucky’s arms. “Let’s get you some fresh food.”
Sophie followed Lucky into the kitchen. “That cat loves you. Listen to him purr.”
“He’s so sweet natured. Elizabeth’s doted on him his whole life.” Lucky gently lowered Charlie to the floor and opened the refrigerator. Charlie rubbed against her legs, knowing his dish would soon be full of food.
“This is such a nice room,” Sophie said, gazing around. Elizabeth’s kitchen walls were painted a soft coral color. Pots and pans hung on a rack near the stove. Everything was well used but spotless. Custom shades and curtains in pillow ticking, white background with thin blue stripes, hung at the windows, and place mats and plaid napkins echoed the coral and blue colors of the room. “It’s so cheerful and orderly.”
“It is, isn’t it?” Lucky responded. She filled a small watering can half full and pulled a step stool close to the sink. She climbed up and watered the trailing ivy that hung in the window. “When Elizabeth comes home, I want her to feel that everything is in its place and has been cared for.”
“She will,” Sophie replied, watching as Lucky rearranged the trails of ivy leaves. “Let’s go upstairs and start going through the filing cabinet.”
Lucky climbed down and put the small watering can under the sink. “This may be a complete waste of time and there’s no time to waste, but I’d hate to think there was something here that could help us find her.” Lucky folded the step stool away and replaced it in the pantry.
They climbed upstairs and went straight to the small office. Lucky opened the top drawer of the three-drawer filing cabinet. She pulled out a stack of files and handed them to Sophie. “We just have to remember to put these back in order.”
“That’s easy. She’s labeled them all alphabetically.” Sophie flopped to the floor and leaned against the daybed. She laid the folders next to her, and after opening the first one, started to go through its contents methodically.
“Where was Elias last night? I didn’t see him at the meeting.” Sophie focused on the papers in front of her, carefully turning each page over.
“He went to Lincoln Falls. One of his patients had surgery early today, and another’s been admitted. He’ll be back late afternoon probably.”
“I feel awful going through her things like this. I hope she’ll forgive me whenever she turns up.”
“I’ll feel more awful if there’s something here that I’ve missed.” Lucky rubbed her forehead. “I should have sounded the alarm sooner. That’s what I keep kicking myself about. I should have known when I didn’t see her at the Pastor’s ceremony or the dress rehearsal on the Green.”
“Stop that!” Sophie said sternly. “You couldn’t have known. You’re not a mind reader. Stop beating yourself up.” Charlie had followed them into the room and now jumped on the daybed, purring loudly. Sophie reached up to pet him. He meowed and rolled onto his back, enjoying the attention. Sophie g
ently pulled on Charlie’s ears. “Maybe we should take him to your apartment. What do you think?”
“I’ve thought about that, but I don’t know. Cats are so territorial. It might freak him out. Besides, he’d be just as lonely there. I’m never home.”
“Guess so.”
“I’ll just stop by every morning and make sure he’s okay.” Something in Lucky’s voice made Sophie look up. “What do we do if we can’t find her in the next day or so? Oh, Sophie! People do disappear, just like my parents disappeared.”
Sophie climbed out of her sitting position and grasped Lucky’s hands. “I know they did. And it was terrible. And this is bringing all that up again. You’re not wrong to be worried about her, but your perspective might be a little bit skewed,” Sophie said, carefully gauging Lucky’s reaction.
“I don’t want to lose anybody ever again in my life, Sophie. I know that’s crazy, but that’s what I want.” Lucky grabbed a tissue from the desk and wiped her eyes. “It’s the worst thing in the world.”
Sophie waited patiently for Lucky’s outburst to subside. “It is. Nothing’s worse. But we haven’t lost her yet, have we? We’ll find her. Nate’s doing all the right things. He’s called in the right people who are organizing everything. It’s gone public as of today and the State Police are making sure it’s plastered all over the media.”
Lucky was still for a moment. “I know they’ve organized ground searches, but instead of joining one of those groups, why don’t we drive around, go up and down every street in town, all around the Resort and every turnoff from here to the main highway. If she drove away, and she must have because her car is gone, then her car is somewhere—somewhere it hasn’t been spotted yet. Somewhere in the woods or off the road. Otherwise, it would have been reported by now.”
“It could take days to cover all the roads and paths into the woods, but we could do it early in the morning as soon as it’s light out.”
A Broth of Betrayal Page 12
