Festival Turmoil

by Wendy Meadows

  “That must have been some fight,” Brenda said. She wanted to keep the conversation going to give her time to study his features.

  “It was. I had no idea at all he had a knife on him, until he slashed me.” Philip seemed distracted by the photography opportunities in the café and quickly picked up his espresso and moved on, wishing Brenda a good day.

  Phyllis and Brenda decided to return to Sheffield Bed and Breakfast. Brenda told her to pay close attention to guests who came in for lunch. Phyllis was glad to be in on the mystery of who was out to get Mac and his daughter. They hoped someone would say something that would hint as to where Jenny Rivers could be located.

  As it turned out, only a few guests were at the bed and breakfast during lunch and no one said or did anything remotely suspicious. After lunch, Phyllis left to go to her apartment and retrieve needed items while Brenda checked on Allie, who told her that her parents were fine. David had left his wife at Sweet Treats to complete cleanup and plans for the Winter Festival. Allie planned to practice her skating routine after work, which told Brenda that her young reservationist was not terribly disturbed by the events of the past couple days.

  “I overheard a conversation earlier after you and Phyllis left,” Allie said. She told Brenda about hearing Thomas Wellington on the phone. “I didn’t eavesdrop. Anyone could have heard him.”

  Brenda prodded her to continue. Allie told her that after the call where he seemed to talk of some kind of business plan, his wife approached him and asked if things were going to work out. Thomas told Rachel things were going along well and to have no worries.

  “I hope it does work out. I thought they came here for a getaway,” Brenda said. “I guess whatever business deal that followed him here can finally allow that.”

  Allie shook her head. “I think it’s more than some business deal. Something about the tone of voice was a little strange.”

  Brenda tried to reassure Allie, but inwardly she had been suspicious of the Wellingtons, especially after the sitting room scene the other night. She knew she would keep a much closer eye on them for the next few days before the Winter Festival began.

  Mac arrived home late and stretched across the bed. Brenda was glad to see him rest but noted he was pale. She wanted to admonish him for overdoing it, but withheld her opinion. He already knew that. “Try and get some sleep, Mac.”

  “I will, but first tell me if you found out anything at all today that will lead us to Jenny. Anything, Brenda.”

  Brenda told him of the quirks she noticed with Richard Martin at the coffee shop, of the overheard conversation between the Wellingtons, and then about Philip Turner and his scar. Mac sat up and listened to her description.

  “Other than the scar on his hand, nothing you describe about him makes me think he is Sleazy,” Mac said. “Robert Waters’ physique is similar to his, but other than that, he doesn’t look like him in the least. The scar, I believe, is coincidental, I’m afraid.”

  “I wish I had more, Mac.”

  Mac slept for a couple of hours and then got up and changed clothes. When she asked, he told Brenda he was going back down to the police station and go over everything found so far.

  “I must find Jenny before I can rest easy again.” He kissed Brenda. “I’m just wondering why whoever is responsible hasn’t demanded anything in return from me.” He grew somber. “I guess he has demanded, after all. He does have Jenny or has done something to her to hurt me. But who is it, Brenda?” She knew he didn’t expect an answer from her. “I’ll be at the station in about fifteen minutes. I’ll call you when I’m in my office, so you won’t worry.”

  On the third step down in the back stairwell, Mac bent to pick up another note on identical paper. “Jenny is safe for now, but if necessary I will kill her and you too for putting me behind bars.” Tracing the source of the paper was in the works already and it was a matter of the waiting game. Frustratingly, there was no mention of what the kidnapper meant by “if necessary.” Mac set off for the station with renewed energy.

  Brenda called Bryce to tell him Mac returned to his office. Bryce was at Jenny’s house and told Brenda he would go right down and help out.

  “I have to find her, Brenda. I can’t live without her.” Brenda caught tears in his voice. Neither detective could manage sleep. Brenda decided they were better off working the case, so close to home.

  “She will come home to you and all of us, Bryce. The best detectives are on it.”

  Brenda glanced at the clock, which read eleven. There was no going back to sleep for her either at this point. She headed downstairs in search of a sweet roll and more tea bags to replenish her stash. While heating water in the kitchen, she heard the front door open. The hushed voices of Marilyn and Richard Martin echoed down the hall and made their way to the open kitchen door.

  “I’m going to take a quick stroll around the grounds before bed.”

  “You can’t seem to get enough of this bitter cold, Richard. Make it a fast walk and I’ll have the fire going in our fireplace.”

  Brenda turned the kitchen light off and waited for Richard to circle around to the back of the house. She looked twice to determine if she was imagining things when she saw a light flashing from the wooded area. Then it waved from side to side, as if signaling Richard. The next moment, she observed someone emerging from the tree line to meet Richard. The person was shadowed and Brenda failed to recognize the person. She walked to the back door and opened it gently. For certain, Richard Martin is one of the men. She turned around when someone else entered the front door.

  William spotted her first down the hallway and waved. “We’re back for Phyllis’ wool sweater she wanted. Then we’re homeward bound.” Brenda hurried to them.

  She told them what she witnessed in the backyard. William walked quickly to the back door. Inadvertently, he allowed the storm door to slam. The figure at the tree line disappeared back into the woods. Richard waved at William, as if out for a midnight stroll.

  If the figure in the woods had stuck around a little longer, he would have seen law enforcement arriving at the bed and breakfast. As it turned out, he ran as fast as he could and the woods swallowed him up in the darkness of the night. He made his way into the local tavern and ordered a beer.

  Richard made his way confidently through the dark, snowy yard to the door as if nothing had happened. “Thanks for opening the door for me, William. It is William, isn’t it? I heard you and the housekeeper were getting back in town. I’m Richard Martin, one of the guests.”

  William held his tongue. Phyllis was much more than a housekeeper in his eyes. She was his beloved and loving wife and it irked him that a guest would refer to her like a servant. He decided to return cordiality.

  “Let’s go down to the sitting room and have a nightcap,” William insisted. “I always like to meet new people. I hear you’re a history buff.”

  As they came down the hallway, Brenda could not contain her curiosity. She asked Richard who he was talking to outside at this time of night. At first he denied he was talking with anyone until Brenda pressed him further. He then told her he met up with someone he knew a long time ago. Brenda had many more questions to ask, but caught a quick warning look from William.

  “Richard and I are going to grab a nightcap and get to know one another better. Would you like one, Brenda?”

  Brenda attempted a smile. “Thanks, but I have my hot tea and will call it a night.”

  While William occupied Richard, Brenda called Mac. In no time at all, the two detectives arrived at Sheffield Bed and Breakfast and went into the sitting room. Richard stood up and spoke first.

  “It looks like you’ll have more company to finish your nightcap, William. I’m going to turn in before my wife comes looking for me.” He turned to William and smiled. “Your expertise on local architecture has been most interesting. Thank you.”

  Mac stepped forward while Bryce stood guard at the doorway. “We are here to talk with you, Richard. Not m
any people unfamiliar with our area take strolls out in this weather in the middle of the night. Why did you do that?”

  Richard’s eyes darted from the floor to the ceiling and finally landed on the detective’s face. “I enjoy night walks in cold weather. I always sleep better after a brisk walk.”

  “Do you always meet up with someone you haven’t seen in years during your midnight walks?”

  Richard’s eyes shifted again. “It’s true that I did run into someone I knew quite a while ago.” Mac’s eyebrows shot higher. “I didn’t expect to see anyone back there at this time of night.”

  “As I understand it, the person you met signaled his presence to you and you followed his direction. Was that also coincidental?”

  Richard looked as if he was ready to bolt but knew better than to try and escape. Odds were he wouldn’t make it out of the room. “All right, Detective. I knew, like everyone else around here, that your daughter is missing. I arranged to meet the man near the trees because I was told he had information on her whereabouts. He was getting ready to tell me who knocked you out, too, just as William came to the door.” For a split second he displayed a look of pity toward Mac. “I guess that information is lost on all of us now.”

  Mac knew that only law enforcement, the Pendletons, Chef Morgan, and Brenda knew of the attack on him. All had been sworn to secrecy about it.

  “Do you have a name for this informant?”

  Bryce stood firm, waiting for the man to try and escape. William had stood up with his back to the door that led to the dining area as he watched the proceedings. Brenda stood out in the hallway listening, and out of sight. She slipped into the alcove, closed the door and called for back-up with no sirens.

  “My informant is a guest here. His name is Thomas Wellington. At least that’s the name he tells everyone. He’s really Neb Tyler.”

  Bryce spoke for the first time. “Are you talking about Neb Tyler, the bank robber who kidnapped that teller in his getaway with Robert Waters?”

  “You are lying,” Mac said. “Thomas Wellington looks nothing like Neb Tyler.”

  Richard shook his head vigorously. “I swear the man you think is Thomas Wellington is Neb Tyler, the bank robber.” At this point, Richard didn’t hold back, wanting to prove himself. “He told me he knows where Jenny is. I can prove he is the same man. He told me a while back that he robbed the bank because he and his wife were dirt poor and needed money. I know you are the one who nabbed him, Detective Rivers. He didn’t mean harm during that bank robbery but he took the teller because he had to ensure his escape. He and his wife just needed money to live on.”

  “All that you are telling me, except for his excuses, is public knowledge.”

  “Did you know he once had a daughter the same age as your daughter? You were the one who caught him just at the city limits and were responsible for his conviction and incarceration. He loved his daughter like you love yours and you took her away from him. He said he planned for years how to make you pay. He didn’t want to kill you. He wanted you to suffer like he did, without your daughter. He knocked you unconscious to keep you from your daughter while she was being taken. Don’t you get it, Detective? He wanted you to pay.”

  Mac knew that Neb’s daughter was mentioned only once in the news reports during the ongoing investigation. It was Family Protective Services that took her from her parents. Still, the man he met as a guest at Sheffield Bed and Breakfast looked nothing at all like Neb Tyler.

  Bryce glanced toward the front door when Brenda opened it for the swarm of officers who flooded into the hallway.

  “We have back-up here, Mac,” Bryce said.

  Mac stood back as Bryce took out his handcuffs in front of Richard Martin. “I have a lot more questions for you to answer, Richard,” he told the suspect. “You can make this easy, or you can make this hard.” Richard Martin clenched his jaw and offered his wrists to be handcuffed. Bryce told the officers he would follow them down to the police station right away.

  When he returned to the sitting room, Bryce demanded to know why Mac hadn’t pressed Richard as to where Jenny was being kept. “I need to get to her. Who knows where this Thomas Wellington is now?”

  Brenda looked at Mac. “I checked upstairs – Thomas Wellington isn’t here right now.”

  Mac nodded and turned to Bryce. “I want you to go right now to the station and start interrogating Richard. Something isn’t right about everything he said,” said Mac, shaking his head. “If it is Neb impersonating someone by the name of Thomas Wellington, then who really left me unconscious and took Jenny? There is more than one person involved. Take fingerprints of Wellington before anything else. I’ll get to Jenny.”

  Mac pulled Brenda to him. “Before this night ends, we will have Jenny home safe and sound.”

  Chapter Seven

  Truth be Told

  Detective Jones sped to the police station and jogged into the building. He barked orders regarding fingerprints. The night clerk told him it was being done and pointed out which interrogation room the suspect would be taken to. Bryce waited for the two officers to process Richard Martin as Chief Ingram watched. Bryce glared at Richard Martin and then joined the Chief across from him at the interrogation room table.

  “I’m told the man you connected with is Neb Tyler. I am also told he looks nothing like the bank robber,” the Chief said. He leaned back, perusing the file in front of him. “So who did you talk with tonight in the cold?”

  “Like I said, I talked with Neb Tyler. You’ve heard of plastic surgery, haven’t you, Chief?”

  Bob Ingram jerked forward. His eyes were steel as they bored into the man’s face. There was a knock on the door and Mac was allowed inside. He sat next to Bryce, who couldn’t wait any longer.

  “Where’s Jenny Rivers?” he asked the man.

  Richard Martin smiled. “What’s in it for me?” He looked from Mac to Bryce.

  Chief Ingram ignored his question. “Where is she? Do you really have any information at all? Did you really see Neb Tyler? When he finally got out of prison he left for Montana. We keep tabs on people like him.”

  Richard chuckled as if fully in control. “Apparently not, or you would know he’s right here in Sweetfern Harbor.”

  It was going to be a long night.

  After the police left with Richard in custody, Brenda wanted to talk to Marilyn Martin. She knocked softly on her door. Marilyn opened the door with a smile on her face, a glass of wine in her hand and a low burning fire in the fireplace behind her. When she saw that it was Brenda, her demeanor changed to one of embarrassment.

  “I’m sorry, Brenda, I was sure it was Richard. I promised him a warm welcome when he finished his ridiculously cold winter walk.” She leaned her head around Brenda. “Where is he? He’s been gone for quite some time.”

  “He won’t be back tonight.” Brenda asked if she could come inside the room. Marilyn stood back and Brenda closed the door behind her. She explained that Marilyn’s husband had been taken to the police station for interrogation.

  “Interrogation? Whatever for?” Marilyn asked. Her eyes grew wide and luminous with unshed tears. “What has he done? I didn’t think a walk around the grounds was something criminal.”

  “He told the police he met up with someone outside who knows where Mac’s daughter is. She was kidnapped, as we are learning now. He could be arrested for being accessory to the crime. Do you know anything about that?”

  “Of course I knew Detective Rivers’ daughter was missing. Everyone we met in town talked about it. What does that have to do with my husband?” Marilyn held her breath and hoped the answer didn’t incriminate Richard in any way, though she couldn’t imagine why it would.

  “If he met up with someone who knows where she is, then he is deeply involved for that alone. Do you know Thomas and Rachel Wellington?”

  “I met them when we came here a few days ago. Until then I had never met them at all. Are they involved in this somehow?”

&nb
sp; “There are a lot of unknowns at this point.” Brenda asked Marilyn to tell her how she met and married Richard.

  “We met about eight years ago through a mutual friend. My sister warned me against marrying him. She thought there was something not right about him. I told her if I was his third wife it simply meant he hadn’t found the right one until I came along.”

  She wrung her hands after placing the glass of wine on the end table. “We’ve had a wonderful marriage until the last year or so. I don’t know what’s going on with Richard, but he has become more and more distant toward me. I thought coming here was a great idea to rekindle our marriage. He came up with the plan and that really made me feel good that we were going to be all right after all. As it turns out, he hasn’t shown me much attention since we arrived.”

  Brenda made mental notes of the information Marilyn gave her. Suddenly, Marilyn stood up and paced back and forth.

  “I can’t believe he’s in jail. What will happen and what will I tell anyone who asks where he is?”

  “He may not stay there tonight. It depends on what information they find out from him. Just tell everyone he’s out early and will be gone all day if he has to stay there a while.”

  Brenda felt sure Richard would be spending the night in jail and probably more than one night. She left Marilyn convinced the woman didn’t really know her husband at all.

  Everyone else in the bed and breakfast was sound asleep. Thomas had not returned, if he was even out in the woods to begin with. No lights filtered from under the doorways along the passageway. Brenda found it impossible to sleep knowing Jenny was out there somewhere. She was probably miserable and scared. She spent the next few hours going over everything Richard said in the sitting room and thought about the other guests. According to Richard, it was Thomas Wellington who knocked Mac unconscious, but for some reason Mac had his doubts. The last time Brenda looked at the clock, it read two in the morning before she finally fell into a deep sleep with no answers.