Rest in Peace, Miss Aggie (The Misadventures of Miss Aggie)

by Frances Devine

  “I don’t believe I will. I’m going home.”

  “Vickie.” He started to rise.

  I stormed out of the café and got into the van. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Benjamin standing in the open door with his hand raised. I peeled out. Take that, I thought.

  I was almost home before regret hit me. I knew I’d acted foolishly, because in my heart I believed Ben. It just made me so mad he couldn’t see what the little vixen was up to. I sighed. Maybe I’d call him.

  I parked in the driveway and went in the front door. When I stepped into the foyer, I heard Mabel’s strong voice singing “The Old Rugged Cross.” I hung my coat in the hall closet and tried to calm down before I walked into the kitchen.

  “You sound happy today, Mabel.” I smiled as she pounded a piece of meat on a hard plastic cutting board. “How did your weekend go?”

  “Great, just great.” She brought the metal meat pounder down once more then began cutting it into pieces. “Bobby’s getting Sarah enrolled this morning, and then he’s headed home.”

  “She knows where to get off the bus?”

  “Yes, but if it’s all right with you, I’ll take a minute and walk down to the corner when it’s time. Just this first day.”

  “Of course. You know I don’t mind. What are you making?” Sometimes I gave her a menu, but most of the time I let her fix whatever she wanted. She hadn’t disappointed me yet.

  “Beef and noodles. Found a new recipe with sour cream. Thought you might like it.” She grinned. She knew I liked most anything with sour cream.

  “Sounds wonderful. I need to work in my office for a couple of hours. I’ll just have a small chef salad for lunch, if you don’t mind.”

  “Don’t mind a bit.”

  I filled a mug with coffee and carried it into the office. I set it on the coaster that rested on my desk and sat in the padded swivel chair, wondering if it was too soon to call Benjamin.

  Just as I reached for the phone, it rang. “Cedar Chapel Lodge.”

  “Hi, sweetheart. Are you still mad?” Benjamin’s voice sounded half teasing, half worried.

  “No, I’m not mad.”

  “Good. Honey, I got to thinking, you may be right. I don’t see it, but I promise I’ll be watchful, and if I see any indication you’re right, I’ll let her go.”

  Any indication? Men were so gullible where pretty girls were concerned.

  “It’s okay, Ben. I’m watching her, too.” I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, so I did neither. “Would you like to come to dinner tonight?”

  “That’d be great. See you then. I love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  I hung up, relieved we’d made up but frustrated he still couldn’t see that the girl was trying to cause trouble between us. However, we had more important things to think about. I wondered what Benjamin would think about the papers Laura had found in the safe-deposit box. And hid from me.

  I tried to smile at the young girl slouched against the kitchen door, observing me with narrowed hazel eyes. Her cap sat backward on her head, with short lanks of ash-blond hair sticking out wildly around the edges.

  “Sarah, stand up straight and say hello to Miz Storm.” Mabel placed an arm around the girl’s shoulders encouragingly.

  Her granddaughter straightened, her eyes still boring into mine.

  I licked my lips. What? Now I was going to let a ten-year- old intimidate me? A short one, at that.

  “It’s very nice to meet you, Sarah.” I hoped I sounded grown-up, but had a feeling I wasn’t fooling her a bit. “You can call me Victoria.”

  A spark of something flashed in her eyes, but then she shrugged her shoulders, which looked solid in spite of her lean frame. “Okay.”

  What did I say next? I’d had very little contact with children, except for the Hansen monsters. And I held hopes they weren’t typical.

  School. That was it. “So what do you think of your new school?”

  She sneered. “It stinks.”

  “Oh.”

  “Sarah Jane Carey.” Mabel stood, hands on hips, her face red. “Is that any way to talk? Cedar Chapel Elementary is a very nice school.”

  Another shrug. I decided it was time to change the subject. Food, maybe?

  “I’ll bet you’re hungry, Sarah. How about some milk and cookies?”

  “Okay.” She flopped down on a kitchen chair and drummed her fingers against the table.

  Mabel shook her head and placed three cookies on a plate then poured a glass of milk.

  Okay, the food was a good idea. What next? Buster!

  “Would you like to go with me to take Buster for a walk after while?”

  “Who’s Buster?” She crammed half a cookie into her mouth then followed it with a couple of gulps of milk. I hoped she’d chewed, but if so, I hadn’t noticed.

  “My dog.”

  “What dog?” She glanced around. “I don’t see a dog. Don’t hear one either. Don’t even smell one.”

  Her eyes challenged me to produce the dog that wasn’t there.

  “He’s in the backyard. I’ll take you to meet him when you’re finished eating.”

  The first glimmer of interest sparked in her eyes, and I breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe I’d found common ground after all.

  I was glad the seniors were in their rooms resting now, except Martin, who was probably dozing in front of the TV. I was a little nervous about how they might react to the child. But they’d probably win her over in ten seconds flat. They’d won me over when I was younger than her. Nos- talgia washed over me, and I swallowed. Mabel kept one eye on her granddaughter while she prepared a salad to go with the beef and noodles.

  Sarah pushed her chair back, the legs scraping against the tiles. “Okay, let’s go see that dog.” Ignoring her napkin, she swiped the back of her hand across her mouth, then wiped it across the leg of her jeans.

  Mabel gave me a grateful smile as I followed Sarah out the kitchen door. I opened the gate to the chain link fence and preceded Sarah into the yard, not sure how Buster would react to her presence. He had a love/hate relationship with the neighbor children, and I didn’t think he’d bite but didn’t want to take any chances.

  He was curled up beneath the big oak tree, but we’d barely made it inside the fence before he came bounding across the yard. He stopped short and began to sniff around Sarah’s small frame. She giggled, the first happy sound she’d emitted since she’d arrived at the lodge.

  The next thing I knew, Sarah and Buster were romping and rolling across the ground. His excited barks blended with her laughter. Apparently it was love at first sight.

  After I’d watched for a while to make sure all was well, I went back inside the house. Mabel was looking out the window, a big smile on her face.

  “That Buster is just what my baby girl needs.” She wiped at her eye.

  “She’s going to be fine. I’m sure of it.” I patted her on her shoulder.

  I poured a cup of coffee and went back to finish work in my office. When I came out again, Mabel was removing her apron. The muted sounds of shouts and laughter reached my ears.

  Mabel waved toward the window. “Sarah’s met some friends, it seems. I’ll probably have to drag her away. But I don’t mind. She needs friends.”

  I went to the window and peered through. Oh no. All three Hansen kids were running around the yard, whooping and screeching like a mob of wild banshees. I sighed and lifted a silent prayer up to God. Now there were four to make my life miserable. Shame pinched at me. I knew the Hansens weren’t bad children. They were just full of mischief. Maybe I needed to put forth more of an effort to be friendly with them. Especially with winter coming. They were experts at not only making snowballs, but throwing them, too. Of course, I’d gotten them back a few times, but somehow they always came out ahead.

  Miss Jane came downstairs just as Mabel and Sarah were leaving. Sarah was grubby from rolling on the ground with Buster. I hoped the grass stains would come out.
When introduced to Miss Jane, she stuck her hand out and behaved with perfect manners.

  “Why, such an adorable little girl.” Miss Jane prattled around the kitchen, helping me to make the last-minute preparations for dinner. “She’s going to be a real blessing, isn’t she?”

  “Sure, a real blessing,” I muttered, as I carried serving dishes into the dining room.

  For the first time in hours, I remembered the papers Laura Baker had tried to hide from me, and a quiver of excitement ran through me. Why would she have tried to hide them if they weren’t important? Could they hold a clue to the whereabouts of the elusive jewels? Or perhaps some other decades-old secrets?

  Chapter Eleven

  So, he couldn’t come to dinner because he forgot a meeting, huh? Seething, I placed the last serving bowl on the sideboard. This made the second time in less than two weeks this had happened, and suspicion raised its ugly head and roared at me. What if the “meeting” was a date with the seductive Christiana Baker?

  I hated the feeling coursing through me. And I hated my suspicious nature. Benjamin had never given me a real reason to doubt his faithfulness. But every time I thought about those catty eyes devouring him and mocking me, anger toward the little temptress rose up again.

  Miss Jane called the rest of the seniors to dinner.

  “Something sure smells good.” Martin held his head back and sniffed loudly, then grinned.

  “Mabel made a new beef and noodle recipe she found,” I said. I filled water glasses and placed them on the table.

  “That woman was sent from God,” Georgina declared.

  “What? My cooking wasn’t good enough for you?” Miss Jane pouted and glared at her friend.

  “Oh, I didn’t mean that, Jane. Of course your cooking is wonderful.” Miss Georgina hastened to smooth the ruffled feathers. “But you needed a break, I’m sure. That’s all I meant.”

  I suppressed a grin at the quick answer. Miss Jane didn’t look too convinced as she filled her salad plate and dished up a small bowl of soup. The dishes wobbled a little as she carried them to the table, and I wondered, not for the first time, if I should change the buffet style of our meals. It worked all right for breakfast. But dinner had soup, salad, main course, and dessert. Most of the seniors were strong and dexterous. But they were getting older, and perhaps I needed to make things easier for them.

  “I wonder if Aggie is having dinner.” Miss Jane’s statement, coming out of the blue, sent a shock through my entire body.

  Miss Georgina gasped. “Oh, poor Aggie. I can’t bear to think of what she could be going through.”

  “Now cut it out, you two.” Martin took Georgina’s hand, seeming not to care who saw. “Look, Aggie is more than likely playing a big joke on everyone. Or else, she’s forgotten there are people who worry about her. It wouldn’t be the first time she’s gone off and not let anyone know.”

  Martin was right about that. Miss Aggie had gone to Jefferson City to see her brother a couple of times without bothering to tell anyone. And once, she flew to St. Louis on the spur of the moment to go shopping at her favorite dress boutique. I hoped—no, prayed—that was the case this time. But the fact of the abandoned car with the left-behind broken bracelet caused me concern. Not to mention the cell phone that Miss Aggie loved.

  We finished our meal in miserable silence.

  After dinner, Frank and Martin went to the rec room to watch a movie. The ladies all pitched in as usual to help clean up, then we went to the parlor. After a while the clicking of three sets of knitting needles lulled me to a near-sleep state. I shielded a yawn with the back of my hand.

  “I saw that, Victoria,” Miss Jane said, her eyes twinkling. “You really should learn to knit. It’s good exercise for the fingers.”

  “Uh-huh. But I don’t think. . .” The phone rang, cutting off my admission that I had no desire to learn to knit. “I’ll get it.”

  I stepped into the foyer and picked up the phone. “Cedar Lodge.”

  “Hi, it’s Corky. Dad just called. They cut their trip short and came back home because of Aunt Aggie.”

  “Have they heard from her?” I closed my eyes. Please God, please God.

  “No. No word. But their house shows signs of having been broken into, although nothing is missing.”

  Confusion and fear swirled through my mind. “Do they have any leads at all?”

  “No, but Dad believes it may have something to do with Aunt Aggie’s disappearance.”

  “But what possible connection could it have? Unless Miss Aggie has been staying there?”

  “I don’t know why she’d need to break in. All she had to do was ask, and Father would have given her a key.”

  “Then, what. . . ?”

  “I don’t know. Dad said it was just a gut feeling.” He sighed. “I thought you should know.”

  We hung up, and I walked slowly back into the parlor.

  I returned to my chair and curled my feet up beneath me. “Simon Pennington’s house was broken into.”

  “Oh my.” Miss Georgina dropped the scarf she was knitting onto her lap.

  “Oh no, this proves Aggie was kidnapped.” Fear covered Miss Jane’s face. “They took her because she could get them into Simon’s house.”

  I tried, unsuccessfully, to follow her reasoning. “Why would anyone want to get into Simon’s house?”

  “How should I know, Victoria? He’s a Pennington, that’s why.”

  There was no reason I could think of why anyone would want to break into Simon’s house. Unless. . .hmm, Jack Riley had once gone there when Miss Aggie was visiting Simon. He’d asked her if he could examine the Pennington diamonds. He’d then asked about the rumored emeralds. But no one knew where the emeralds were or even if they still existed. Could Mr. Riley have seen something there that interested him? Enough to break in to find it? He did leave Cedar Chapel mighty fast.

  I glanced from Miss Jane to Miss Georgina. “You know we’ve suspected Clyde and Forrest of being mixed up in illegal actions. Maybe involving the Pennington emeralds.” I spoke slowly, attempting to gather my thoughts. “Could Jack Riley have been involved as well?”

  They looked at each other, then both shook their heads.

  “I don’t believe he was around Cedar Chapel during that time.” Miss Jane looked thoughtful. “But of course, Forrest wasn’t actually either, so who knows? They could have sneaked back to Pennington House at night. Anyone could have hidden out in the smuggling cave and tunnel.”

  A few months earlier, while investigating the murder of the man found in the secret tunnel at Pennington House, we’d found another tunnel which led to a cave in the side of a hill. Wooden tracks leading from a secret room to the cave and on down to the river indicated some sort of smug- gling activity in the past. Probably during or shortly after World War II.

  Was it possible Clyde’s murder, Miss Aggie’s disappear- ance, and Jack Riley’s sudden departure were all somehow connected to these earlier criminal activities? I knew Miss Aggie was innocent of any wrongdoing. Or at least, I was pretty sure. If she knew more than she’d admitted about the secrets of Pennington House, she could be in danger. We had to find her. And soon.

  At the shrill ring of the phone, all three of us started. I shook my head and went to answer.

  “Hi, honey.” The sound of Ben’s voice sent waves of relief washing over me.

  “Hi, Benjamin. Your meeting over?”

  “Yeah, it didn’t last as long as I’d expected. Okay if I come over?”

  Was it ever? Maybe he could chase away whatever ghosts were pursuing me tonight.

  “Of course. Have you eaten?”

  “Yes, I grabbed a couple of burgers before the meeting. Could use some coffee though.”

  “Okay, I’ll make some.”

  “I need to drop paperwork off at the office, so it may be fifteen minutes or so before I get there.”

  “Okay, coffee’ll be ready by then.”

  I made the coffee, put the k
ettle on for tea, then went back to the parlor.

  “Ben’s coming over. I’m going to print out the lists I’ve made before he gets here.”

  I headed for my office. It was time to lay what I had on the table for everyone. I glanced over the document.

  Clyde Foster: Victim of accident or murder? Clues:

  1. Whatzit’s frantic cries of “No, no, get out.”

  2. Fragment of paper with letters n-n-e-l.

  3. Suspicion of Clyde’s illegal activities.

  4. A 1968 copy of the Gazette with the story of the horse theft. (Which didn’t mention Clyde was a suspect.)

  5. Another article that revealed that Clyde had been arrested for the horse theft. (According to Mrs. Miller, his lawyer managed to get him off.)

  I added the facts surrounding Miss Aggie’s disappearance, including her knowledge that her nephew wasn’t at home. I listed the abandoned car and the items found in it. Then I typed in the latest news about the break-in.

  Possible Suspects:

  1. Laura Baker

  2. Christiana Baker

  3. Jack Riley

  Who had a motive to kill Clyde?

  1. His daughter, Laura:

  a. To get revenge for his treatment of her mother?

  b. Addition: Laura has found papers (perhaps letters?), which she tried to cover up, in Clyde’s safe- deposit box. Why would she hide them from me?

  c. She has put the shop up for sale and indicated she needs money.

  2. Christiana: Motive unknown. Addition: same as c above.

  3. Someone who suspected he knew the location of the Pennington jewels?

  4. Someone who suspected he knew they were involved with the theft/disappearance of Pennington jewels?

  5. Jack Riley for the suspect in 3 and 4 (absolutely no clues, just a gut feeling).

  6. Or could it be possible that Mrs. Miller was right and Clyde had stolen Burly Anderson’s prize horse? But Mr. Anderson was eighty-five, and his sons both lived in Chicago. Anyway, forty years was a long time to hold a grudge strong enough to kill for. (Mrs. Miller claims to have seen Gabe, the younger son, in town the night before Clyde’s murder.)