“That was my thought too. And if that is the case, then I’m glad it wasn’t here. If someone wants it badly enough to break in here, there is a reason. Now I just have to find out what that reason is.” He ran his hand across his closely cropped red hair and directed his next statement to Nina. “If the person who broke in was after the knife, it makes it highly likely that he, or she, was at the event when you bought the item. It doesn’t exclude someone who wasn’t, but it sure is likely they were. Otherwise, how would they find out you had it? I assume you weren’t waving it around in the parking lot.”
“Of course not. You think someone was watching us?” Nina asked.
“Probably not until you bought it. They would have no way to know you were going to buy it.”
“True.”
“Are you still going to be able to go back out to the event tomorrow?” Perri questioned.
“I am going to, but I’ll be combining work and pleasure. I’ll try to find out what I can there when I’m not in a uniform. That can make a huge difference.”
“I’ll bet.” Nina startled as the phone rang loudly on the night stand between the beds. “Yes?” Nina listened, then answered, “Ok, thank you.” She hung up the receiver and said, “They have another room for us, on the other end of the building. Let’s grab our stuff and go, they’ll meet us there to give us the new key cards.”
After snatching up the remaining items of clothing strewn around the room and stuffing them back into their suitcases, Archer helped carry their baggage down the hall, around two corners, to the new room. A clerk was waiting with the key cards. Giving one each to Perri and Nina, she said to let her know if they needed anything else and returned to the lobby.
After settling the suitcases in the room, Archer said, “Ok, ladies, I’ll get out of your way and let you get some rest. Maybe see you at the event tomorrow if you come out.”
Nina turned around to face Archer, “Wait, aren’t you guys going to fingerprint or something?”
“Not for this. Nothing was taken and we don’t have enough manpower to do the whole ‘CSI investigation’ for cases like this.” Nina was obviously disappointed. “We should have the footage from the security cameras tomorrow. Hopefully, something will turn up. Then we’ll try to get a clear enough image of him or her to submit for identification, see if we can get a hit on them in the system.”
“That makes sense. Let us know, will you, if you have an image for us to see? I’d like to be able to spot him if he shows up again or is hanging around,” Perri said.
Archer bowed his head and waved goodbye, then followed the hallway to the stairwell.
“Crap! I better leave Tom a message, now, before Archer gets out there.” Nina scrambled to get to her purse and rifled through it for her phone. He won’t be able to answer right now, but at least when he checks the phone, he’ll see that I did call.”
Perri considered this while Nina left a toned-down explanation of their incident. When she ended the call, Perri asked, “What if you had to get hold of Tom? He doesn’t have his phone nearby, how would you contact him?”
“I can call the site administrator and have someone go find him if I need to. We’re in a new room, nothing was taken, we aren’t hurt, no need to ruffle his feathers at this time of night. I’m tired, and he’d be back here in an hour keeping us awake all night with conspiracy theories.”
Perri stretched and yawned, “My pajamas are in this mess somewhere. I’m done for.” She pawed through wadded up clothing in her bag until she found her pajamas.
“Me too.” Nina yawned sympathetically. As she zipped open her suitcase, she said to Perri, “You first in the bathroom, I still have to find my gown in this tangle.”
Perri gratefully headed for the bathroom and a nice hot shower.
Chapter 12
Nina’s Maroon 5 ringtone had startled her and Perri awake at a quarter after six the next morning. She hadn’t seen any point in calling for someone to notify Tom last night before she went to bed and she had only left the message on his voicemail. By the time he had listened to the message, it was daybreak. Archer hadn’t informed Tom about it the night before, but he probably didn’t get to the site until late.
Following morning roll call, Tom had turned on his phone long enough to check it and found her message and called. After numerous admonishments for not contacting him the night before, Nina was able to reassure him they were fine and would be coming out to the site after they had a bit more sleep followed by a substantial breakfast.
They were woken again a little past seven a.m. by what sounded like someone engaged in a wrestling match with a large suitcase right against the shared wall of the adjacent rooms, a battle they seemed to be losing, and then by a stream of slamming doors in the hallway.
Perri sat up, “May as well get going. I probably can’t go back to sleep again now anyway. How about you?”
“Me either.” Nina stretched.
Once Perri was dressed and ready to go, she climbed onto the bed, leaned against the headboard and called Nick. She had a bit of privacy for her call while Nina was in the bathroom. It wasn’t that she couldn’t talk in front of Nina, heaven knew they had been through pretty much everything together over the years, but she felt a little self-conscious.
After her divorce from Alan nearly three years before, Perri had overcompensated for the hurt of his betrayal by striving to become what she thought of as impervious to emotions. She convinced herself it was not in her best interests to become involved with anyone else and did everything she could to avoid it. Nina had often talked to her about it, and Perri was the first to admit she might have become a bit weird about dating and relationships.
She’d been on a few dates in the second year after her divorce was final, a couple of times she’d even gone on a second date, but they hadn’t called back after that and she was glad of it. Rather than protecting herself, the effect caused her to appear a little hard-nosed and indifferent. She felt wooden, awkward, and out of place, like she was a fake. She had the underlying feeling that at any moment the man she was out with would realize she was an undesirable person, that she was uninteresting and strange, and that it had been a huge mistake to ask her out. Since she felt totally insincere and had to work at being nice, she stopped accepting invitations and then the invitations stopped.
Perri had met Nick late last summer while she and Nina were on a trip to Kentucky. Being there for her own genealogy research project, she was engrossed in the details and had been her normally oblivious self. She had required significant prodding from Nina to even realize that Nick might be interested in her, and then thought Nina was reading too much into it.
Ultimately, Nick had seen her at what qualified for at least close to her worst, and he was still interested. She vacillated between being happy and feeling this relationship could really work and wondering if it would fall apart. She knew that was defeatist thinking, but still harbored enough fear of disappointment to let herself be totally invested in Nick. That, in itself, could end up being a self-fulfilling prophecy, so she knew she had to work on it.
Nick sounded genuinely relieved to hear from her, as though he suspected he might never hear from her again. That warmed her heart and made her feel almost tearful. Surprisingly out of character for her, she thought.
It took her a good ten to fifteen minutes to explain the events of the previous day. It seemed like a week rather than one 24-hour period. Nick had sprinkled numerous questions throughout her narrative. She could hear his concern ramping up as she described their hotel room being tossed around.
“I really am worried about you since they haven’t caught either the person who killed the man at the event or the one who went through your room, if they aren’t the same person. And if it is the same person, that’s even worse, to have a murderer helping himself to your room. I’m not trying to tell you what to do, but I…”
“I know you aren’t, Nick. I understand. I’d be worried if the situation was r
eversed,” Perri said gently.
“Oh, ok. I’m glad.”
“I know. I’m pretty defensive at times, but I realize you are just uneasy.”
“Yes.” Nick seemed uncertain what else to say, not being prepared for Perri’s gentle acceptance of his concern.
Perri laughed, “I’m just trying to say that I know I’ve come across as pretty unconquerable at times.” She heard Nick’s soft laugh in reply and could imagine him nodding his head. At that moment, she really missed him and wanted to see him. She told him so.
“Are you sure you’re alright?” He chuckled. “You didn’t get hit on the head or maybe started your day with a blender full of Bloody Mary’s?”
“No, I didn’t, not this time.” She hesitated, then sighed, and said, “Nick, I’m trying to not be uptight and resistant. I know it’s an issue with me. And I know I’m terrible at this. Bear with me.”
“I definitely will.” He paused, then said, “But I’m really glad to hear you say it.”
They talked a few more minutes about other things: the people who frequented the Arrogant Rogue where Nick was a bartender, his sister, and his side business of managing sound equipment. Nick was audibly less tense than he had been during their conversation before Perri had left for Virginia. Perri promised she would call again the next day and told him not to worry, which it was understood that he would do anyway. Nina came out of the bathroom just as Perri had ended the call. She stopped mid-stride when she saw Perri’s flushed face and lousy attempts to be nonchalant.
“Have a nice conversation? Spill it.”
“Nothing to tell, just catching up a bit.”
“Oh brother. You are a really terrible liar. Everything ok? Or is everything really ok?” She winked at Perri.
“Everything is fine.” Nina continued to stare. “It is, it’s good, Nina, it’s really good, ok?”
“Ok.” Nina put her hair dryer back in her suitcase, peered back over her shoulder at Perri. She zipped the case closed then turned around and crossed her arms. “I’m glad things are going well. I was afraid you were going to scare him off.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence.” Perri attempted a look of hurt and disappointment.
“You’re a hoot! Let’s go eat, I’m starved.” Nina snatched up her purse and stood waiting.
“Where do you want to go?”
Nina considered for a minute. If you don’t mind, why don’t we run back out to the event site? The food vendors serve breakfast too and I would really like to ask about that recipe for the beans with that salt pork. I didn’t realize until later that when I asked Emeline about it, the cook we talked with yesterday, we got distracted and I didn’t get an answer. After we eat, we can come back this way and check out from this hotel and move to the one in Richmond.”
“That sounds like a plan.”
***
Nina tossed her napkin and paper plate into the trash bin. Perri was still eating her own breakfast of fried potatoes, a boiled egg, hominy, and cold ham.
“That was pretty good. Nina patted her stomach, “I’m fat and sassy now, ready to go shopping after I say hello to my husband, if I can find him.”
“I’ll be done in just a couple minutes.” Perri managed to say around a mouthful. She swallowed with what looked like difficulty. “How did you eat the hominy that fast? I need a gallon of water to wash it down, it just gets wadded up in a parched ball in my throat.”
Nina snorted, “You’re going soft. It’s the nursing experience. You know, swallow your food whole or you don’t eat.” She adopted a wounded attitude, “I guess now that you are working for an agency, you get to take an actual lunch break and chew your food?” Before Perri could object, she laughed again. “Take your time, no problem. While you are finishing up, I’m going to go ask if anyone can tell me about how to make those beans. Be right back.”
Nina approached the first table selling food; there were various types of rolls, breads, and griddle cakes arranged in baskets. A young woman dressed in a calico work dress held her skirts away from the cook fires as she came over to attend to Nina. She looked thoroughly at home in her garb. The background of the calico fabric was cream colored, maybe the natural color of the undyed fabric, and printed with small flowers and tiny leaves scattered throughout. Six buttons closed the dress up the front to a small, short collar, the sleeves were rolled up to her mid forearm. The back of the dress was heavily gathered, giving the dress a very full appearance, and the hem brushed the ground.
Nina asked, “Hi there. I was wondering if you could help me. This might seem like an odd request, but I was wondering about the recipe for the beans with salt pork that we had here yesterday. I was talking to another one of the cooks, Emeline, but we got to talking about something else and I didn’t find out about it.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed it. I can help you out with that, we have some receipt cards. I can give you one of those. Hang on just a minute.” She hurried over to a wooden chest behind a semi-circle of stools where the cooks could sit and take a break away from the fires. She returned quickly with a small, rough paper card on which the short recipe was hand written with what must have been a quill pen, the thickness and darkness of the lines being variable.
“Thank you! I’m glad you have these cards.” Nina took it from her, then asked tentatively, “You called it a receipt, instead of a recipe?”
“Yes, in 1863, a list of ingredients and the instructions for preparing them were known as receipts. We have them for demos or events we put on in case someone asks. We want to do what we can to raise interest in all areas of history, especially the Civil War era.” She hesitated, “Um, you said you talked with Emeline yesterday about the food?”
“Yes, it was right in the middle of the chaos though, so we didn’t get to finish our conversation.”
“I see. I asked because we don’t have anyone called Emeline. Was that maybe her real name, not her impression name?”
Nina paused, then said, “No, I don’t think so because she told us it was her impression name.”
“Hm. I don’t know. We don’t have an Emeline though.” She made a half-turn and pointed to herself first, then each person in the kitchen area as she named them, “I’m Charity, and we have Amanda, Sarah, Phoebe, Mary, and Florence. But no Emeline.”
“Oh. Maybe I’m mistaken then.” Nina smiled at her, a little uncertainly, “Thanks again for the recipe.”
“You’re very welcome.” With that Charity turned and went back to the fire to stir whatever was cooking in the iron pot for lunch.
Chapter 13
Detective Archer Vaughn looked tired. He was tired. He hadn’t slept more than a couple of hours before getting up to switch back into his re-enactor uniform and get out to the site. Roll had been called and he was sitting on a three-legged stool outside a tent with Tom Watkins having a breakfast of cornmeal griddle cakes, dried beef, and boiled coffee.
“Tom, tell me what you can about the knife that Nina bought for you. I mean the history around that type of knife, when it was used, anything you know about it.”
Tom finished chewing and swallowed. “Well, of course I can’t tell you anything about that knife in particular, but I can say that it was probably made between 1861 and 1863.”
“How can you narrow it down that much?” Archer asked.
“Well, I looked it over pretty good when Nina gave it to me. It has Memphis on the crossguard, which is something that appears on some of Thomas Leech’s sabers. He and Rigdon parted ways sometime after they left the city of Memphis in May of 1862 when the Union Army was getting close. The company set up again in Mississippi under the name Novelty Works, or sometimes Memphis Novelty Works, but it was never the same. I’m not totally certain of course, but my guess is that knife was made while they were in business in Memphis.”
Tom poured more coffee for both of them, the stream was full of bubbles as the coffee continued to boil on the fire. Steam billowed from the tin cups. Heat from the coff
ee rapidly transferred from the cup through the handle. Becoming too hot to hold onto, Archer set his cup down on the ground next to his stool. Tom asked Archer, “How do you think it came to be for sale in a sutler’s tent here? That’s an artifact, it should be worth some money.”
“It is.” Archer shifted on the stool and took an unhurried, casual-appearing look around to see who was near. “The knife was in the inventory that Russell and Eleanor Calder retrieved from Felix Tyndall’s apartment.”
Tom asked, “What do you mean?”
“Felix Tyndall, Eleanor’s brother, the one who had all this inventory…”
“The one who had a heart attack and died in his apartment, right?”
“Right. He had loads of boxes in his bedroom and the second bedroom. They were full enough that he had disposed of the bed and was sleeping on a pull-out couch in the living room. Part of the living room was stacked with boxes too. Eleanor and Russell carted the stuff to their house for storage when they cleaned out Felix’s belongings.”
“I’m assuming the Calders didn’t know what they had?”
“Exactly. It was in a box with a lot of other repro knives and they didn’t know the difference. They loaded it up with the other stuff and just recently began selling the goods at events like this one. We have the rest of the stock that they brought here with them back at the station to go through. There is more at their home that we are going to remove. Their basement is still half full. What they had here at the event was the tip of the iceberg. It will take some time to verify what are reproductions and what might be original. That’s one thing I wanted to ask you about, Tom.”
“Oh?” Tom raised his brows in question.
Buried Roots Page 7
