The Thanksgiving Trip

by Kathi Daley

  We followed the trail of footprints around the house to the lakeside. They seemed to stop at a short door, maybe four feet tall, under the back deck. It had a padlock that had been cut. We opened the door and stepped into the much-larger space where even Tony could stand. The height at the back of the house was the tallest, decreasing as you walked from the back toward the front of the house, eventually decreasing to the point where we’d be forced to crawl.

  “I wonder who was down here and why?” I asked. “It looks like there are prints in the dirt in that direction.” I pointed toward the front of the house, where a cinder block wall that went clear to the ground in one corner was clearly visible. “That must be the conference room.”

  “It’s in the right spot.” Tony shone his light around. “I guess whoever cut the lock had a look around. Let’s take a look ourselves.”

  I followed Tony, who had to scrunch down after only a few steps. The scrunching was followed by squatting and, eventually, crawling. On the exterior of the cinder block wall, toward the bottom left corner were three symbols, which had been carved into the stone. “I recognize these,” I said. “They’re on the map I found.”

  Tony ran his finger over the shapes. “I think you’re right.” He took out his phone and snapped a photo.

  “I bet whoever came down here was looking for the symbols.”

  “I don’t know. This seems a little too National Treasure to me,” he said, referring to a blockbuster movie from more than a decade ago. “I’m getting a kink in my neck. Let’s head back the way we came. We’ll go inside and clean up, then have another look at the map. Maybe we can figure out what the symbols mean. Maybe we can also figure out if the old mine office was represented on the map in the first place.”

  Tony and I crawled back to where we could stand, then headed to the exterior access door. After we made our way outside, we went inside to clean up and change into nondusty clothes. I made us some tea while Tony logged onto his computer. The map was opened up on the table next to him. I set both mugs of tea on the table, then sat down across from him. I picked up the map and took a closer look. There were some squares in the area surrounding the lake. They might represent buildings. Might all the buildings represented have symbols on them, and might the symbols provide clues to whatever was hidden?

  Tony stopped typing, frowned, and sat back.

  “This all feels off to me.”

  I picked up the map and looked at it again. “Maybe we should see what Mike has to say. He was going to try to see what Holderman knows. For all we know, he already knows about the map and what it might lead to.” I ran my hand through my hair, which was still dusty from our trip under the house. “I could use a shower.”

  “I don’t suppose you need help washing your back?”

  I smiled. “Help washing my back seems like a very good idea.”

  Chapter 8

  As it turned out, Mike and the others didn’t return to the house until shortly before Tony had dinner ready. We decided not to discuss Doug Peterson’s murder in front of Mom, who seemed stressed out enough, so we talked about the cute little town she and Bree had explored, and I commented on the cookies she’d baked, which were delicious. Once she headed into her suite, I could tell Mike about the map and Tony could catch us all up on whatever he’d discovered online. I hoped Mike had learned more about the man in the vehicle leased to Orson Hazelton and his reason for being at the lake.

  “Ruthie called today to let me know Liza is having a baby in the spring,” Mom informed us, referring to my Aunt Ruthie’s daughter.

  “Wow, another grandbaby,” I said. “That makes four.”

  Mom looked pointedly at both Mike and me. “We have some catching up to do.”

  Mike threw his hands in the air. “Don’t look at me.”

  “Me neither,” I jumped in before Mom could focus her attention on me.

  She didn’t respond, but I could see that the subject of grandbabies had been on her mind. Tony and I had only been dating for a short time, so there was no way I wanted this conversation to continue.

  Luckily, Mike chimed in with an alternate topic. “Mom and Bree found out about a festival the little town we visited today plans to hold on Friday. It’s a hometown holiday sort of thing, with all the trimmings.”

  “It did look like fun,” Bree jumped on the bandwagon. “All the little shops are going to be open and each one is going to sponsor a different wine as part of a progressive wine-tasting. I understand the wines from vineyards in Washington, Oregon, and Idaho are going to be the focus.”

  “There’ll be appetizers and hot beverages as well,” Mom added. “And the local merchants have done a wonderful job with the decorations. Every window along the main street had a display.”

  “Sounds like fun,” I responded. “I’d love to go. We can look around, and maybe have lunch there. I might even be able to get a start on my Christmas shopping.”

  “When I was at the police station, Veronica, the receptionist, told me the town will also offer sleigh rides, either on wheels or runners, depending on the snow depth, as well as stands selling hot chestnuts, cider, and other seasonal food and drink,” Mike added. “Oh, and there will be carolers as well.”

  “It sounded a lot like the Christmas Festival White Eagle holds closer to the holiday,” Bree said. “I’ve always enjoyed that sort of thing.”

  “Speaking of the White Eagle Christmas Festival, I’ve been asked to rig up a sound system in the town square,” Tony said. “They’re going to have bands in the gazebo. I’m a bit worried about an outdoor event in December, but the committee assured me that they have tents they can put up, and portable fire pits they’ll set around. Sounds cold to me, but it seems other winter destinations hold events like this all the time, and the turnout is really good.”

  “I suppose as long as you layer, it could be fun,” I stated.

  As the conversation naturally navigated to other towns who held outdoor concerts during the winter, I let my mind wander. I had so many things on my mind tonight—my dad, Doug Peterman’s death, my mother’s not-so-subtle hint about grandchildren—but the one topic that demanded the most space in my mind was the map I’d found and where it might lead.

  I glanced out the window. The snowflakes that were illuminated by the deck lights seemed to indicate a treasure hunt—if that was what the map even led to—but that wasn’t going to be in my immediate future. I didn’t know the area, and the markers on the map were so vague as to be useless to anyone who was unfamiliar with the terrain, so heading out on a treasure hunt would be a dangerous endeavor whatever the weather. With the snow, it could be suicide. Though it was fun to think about a treasure hunt.

  “Does that work for you?” Mike asked, staring directly at me.

  “Uh. Sure. I guess so.” I had no idea what I’d just agreed to; I’d ask Tony to fill me in later.

  “Okay, then, it sounds like we have a plan,” Mom said with a smile on her face.

  I glanced at Tony, and he wasn’t glaring at me with a look of indignation, so I probably hadn’t just agreed to something like a grandbaby for Mom by this time next year.

  “Mike and I will get the dishes tonight because you and Tony cooked,” Bree offered.

  “I think I’ll head into my suite for a bath and some reading,” Mom said. “I’ll see you all in the morning.”

  After we said our good nights, Tony and I gathered the three dogs for a quick walk outdoors before we settled in for the evening.

  “Okay. Break it to me gently. What did I agree to?” I asked after we’d left the house behind and headed down the narrow road.

  “I didn’t think you were listening.”

  “I wasn’t, and I should have admitted it, but I panicked. When I was a kid, my mom always gave me a hard time for daydreaming when someone was speaking to me rather than listening to what was being said, so I hated to admit that was exactly what I was doing.”

  Tony wrapped my hand in his. “You can relax
. All you agreed to was the time schedule for our trip to the festival on Friday.”

  I blew out a breath of relief. “That’s good. The festival did sound like fun, and I really want Mom to have a wonderful week. She came to relax, but she looks stressed, and it’s probably all my fault. I never should have asked her about my dad.”

  “It seems to me that your mom might have anticipated that the subject of your father might come up when she chose to come here.”

  “I guess that’s true. I still wonder why she wanted to come here. She mentioned having unanswered questions, but she hasn’t done a lot to resolve them.”

  “Maybe just being here and seeing what the lake is like was all she needed.”

  I shrugged. “Maybe.”

  “It’s a shame the trip started off with a murder.”

  “I agree. Doug Peterman has been on my mind, and as hard as I try to let the local police handle the investigation, I find myself running theories in my mind.”

  “I guess it’s natural to want to find an answer to a mystery that began when we found the body. Still, this isn’t our mystery to solve.”

  I took a moment to respond. “That’s true. And it would be nice to focus solely on gathering information about my dad’s time at the lake. But for some reason, the complexity of this has grabbed me. I’m not sure which variables are linked to Peterson’s death, but so far, we’ve found a map that may lead to a treasure or at least something valuable enough to draw a map to, and we suspect Techucom has been doing something downright stealthy up here.”

  “There does seem to be a lot going on,” Tony responded.

  “And now that we’ve filled Mike in about what we know about my dad, I have a feeling he’s going to have more questions.”

  “I suspect he will.”

  “This hasn’t turned out to be the sitting-in-front-of-the-fire-drinking-hot-cocoa sort of vacation I envisioned. I do find myself mentally stimulated by everything that has happened, though, and I’m enjoying our time together.”

  Tony turned me in his arms and kissed me gently on the lips. “Me too. But for your mom’s sake, let’s not discuss the Peterman case when she’s around.”

  “Agreed.”

  By the time we returned to the house, Mike and Bree had finished cleaning the kitchen. We grabbed a bottle of wine and headed upstairs to the bedroom I shared with Tony, the farthest away from the room my mom occupied.

  “Somehow, sneaking up here to talk so your mom won’t overhear what we’re saying feels like high school all over again.” Bree laughed.

  “Yeah, I guess it does,” I said. “I’m afraid too much murder talk will ruin her vacation.”

  “I get that,” Bree said. “She does seem like she’s had a lot on her mind since we’ve been here.”

  I looked at Mike. “Did Officer Holderman track down the man you saw driving the vehicle leased to Orson Hazelton?”

  Mike nodded. “His name is Ron Stinson and he works for Hazelton as a programmer. He told Holderman he’s on vacation and drove out to the lake to meet up with some buddies but couldn’t remember where the cabin was exactly. He decided to pull over to wait for one of his friends to show up.”

  I raised a brow. “Did Holderman check to see if his explanation was legit?”

  “He did, and Stinson is staying in a cabin five or six down from this house with two friends who are up for the week.”

  “I suppose that means he isn’t involved in Doug Peterman’s murder. Did Holderman tell you who he thinks might be involved?” I asked.

  “He shared a list of suspects he’s following up with. Our conversation was cop-to-cop, which means if I share any of it with you, you have to promise not to speak of it in public or to approach the suspects or anyone related to them for any reason.”

  I glanced at Tony. He nodded. “Yeah, okay. What does he think is going on?”

  “As far as Holderman can tell, Peterman was here on Friday afternoon, then left to go into town to go to a bar for a drink and some dinner. His wife is away, so he wasn’t in a hurry to get home. He engaged in conversations with several locals. From what Holderman could uncover, Peterman was worried that evening about a man who used to date his sister but had since gone to prison. It seems he’d returned to town the day before and had been going around blabbing to everyone that he was back to square things up with the man who turned the cops on to the meth lab he was involved with.”

  “Peterman,” I deducted.

  “Exactly.”

  “Holderman tracked him down, and he seemed to have an alibi for the night of Peterman’s murder. Holderman’s keeping him on the suspect list for the time being; his alibi was a friend who very well might have lied for him.”

  “Was that his only suspect?” I asked.

  “He had two others,” Mike answered. “One was a local bookie Peterman owed a significant amount of money to, and the other was an old prospector who’d been telling anyone who would listen that Peterman stole a treasure map from him.”

  My eyes got big. “I found a map.”

  “What?” Mike asked.

  I got up and walked across the room to the dresser, then handed the paper to Mike. “I found this today in the conference room.”

  Mike frowned as he looked at it.

  “Did Holderman know anything about the map?” I asked.

  “He just said there’s a local legend about a man who robbed a bank back in the nineteen forties and hid the money up here in one of the abandoned mines when he was forced to ditch the money to escape the sheriff, who was close to catching up with him.”

  “So, if the legend is true, maybe the map is legit,” Bree said.

  “This map looks new and the money was stolen three quarters of a century ago,” Mike pointed out. “Still, the map you found could have been a copy of it. That still doesn’t explain why it was found in the conference room, though.”

  “Maybe Peterman copied the map and had it on him when he came back here last Friday,” I suggested. “If he did lock himself in the conference room, maybe he dropped this when he was looking for a way out.”

  “I suppose it might have gone down that way,” Mike said. “Whatever the explanation, I need to call Holderman. I’m sure he’ll want to stop by to pick this up. I hate to bother Mom, so perhaps I’ll arrange to meet him out on the road.”

  I looked longingly at the map. Goodbye, treasure hunt. Not that the map or even the legend were necessarily legit. And not that it was practical to head out looking for a lost mine anyway. I’d already come to that conclusion. Mike giving the map away was probably a good thing. It might be the action that would turn out to prevent me from ignoring my common sense and doing something stupid.

  Chapter 9

  Wednesday, November 21

  The first thing I noticed when I awoke the next morning was that it had snowed again. A lot. Too much, I decided, to be out tromping around in it. Not that the dogs wouldn’t need to go out, but we could walk on the road or maybe wear down a path near the house. Tony and our dogs weren’t in the room, so I assumed he’d woken early and taken them out. I slowly stretched my arms up over my head. The fire was burning warmly in the fireplace and the room was toasty warm.

  I snuggled under the fluffy down comforter for a few more minutes before rolling out of bed. Tomorrow was Thanksgiving, and Mom had been making noises about baking rolls as well as pies and making some of the sides that would keep a day. Thanksgiving morning was a traditional time for her homemade sticky rolls, which I figured she’d make today and reheat tomorrow.

  Thinking of food made me think of coffee, so I tossed off the comforter and sat up. Then, pulling on a clean pair of jeans, a long-sleeved shirt, and a hoodie, I slipped my feet into my fuzzy slippers and headed into the bathroom to brush my teeth and comb my hair. With that accomplished, I headed downstairs, where I could hear talking.

  “Morning,” I said to Bree and Mom as I headed across the room to the coffeepot.

  “Morning, sweetheart.
How did you sleep?” Mom asked.

  “Really well. Where are Mike and Tony?”

  “Tony’s outside getting wood for the fireplace and Mike took the dogs for a walk,” Bree said.

  “Mike took all three dogs for a walk.”

  “You sound surprised.”

  “I guess I am. But I’m grateful as well. Not having to get up with the dogs let me sleep in a bit.” I looked around the room. Tang and Tinder were both on the giant dog bed that was in front of a little woodburning stove. “I guess I should feed the cats.”

  “Tony took care of that before he went out,” Mom informed me. “He cleaned the cat boxes too.”

  Suddenly, I was feeling very spoiled. A morning without chores wasn’t a bad thing. I topped off my coffee, then slid onto one of the stools at the counter. “What are you making?” I asked Mom.

  “Right now, I’m making the dough for the rolls for tomorrow night’s dinner. I figure with the cool, damp weather, the dough might take a while to rise. After that, I’m going to make an egg pie for breakfast. Do you think I should do bacon or sausage?”

  “Either is fine with me,” I answered.

  “I don’t mind frying up some of each,” Bree offered. “I was going to cut up some of that melon as well.”

  I knew I should offer to help, but I was enjoying this slow start to my day. I’d offer to do the dishes when we’d eaten. I’d be fully awake then and raring to do something,

  I was just about to pour my third cup of coffee when Mike walked in with all three dogs. They’d brought in quite a bit of snow with them, so I changed direction and went for the mop. “How was your walk?” I asked.

  “Eventful.”

  I raised a brow. “Would you care to elaborate?”

  “I was walking down the road when Leonard took off after a rabbit. I called him back, but he wasn’t listening. I tried to keep up with him, but the road was slick and I fell on my backside. Of course, once I was sprawled on the ground, Leonard thought we were playing a game and came running over to jump on me and lick my face.”