Unintended Detour: A Christian Suspense Novel (The Unintended Series Book 3)

by D. L. Wood

  “So I expect we’ll hear something eventually. Right now, they’re referring to it as an accident, but every time I’ve spoken with Detective Yarbrough—he’s the primary New York State police detective assigned to the case—I get the sense that he isn’t convinced that’s what happened. I suppose they’ll know more after the autopsy. Right now, we’re just telling people it was an unfortunate accident. He just called to say they’ll be able to release the crime scene in the next hour or so and have the tape removed, so I’m grateful for that.”

  “Do you think it was an accident?” Chloe pressed.

  “I don’t want to think it was anything else.”

  “Is there anyone who would want Nate Lewis dead?”

  Deidre looked off for a moment, then returned her gaze to Chloe. “Nate could be difficult sometimes, but in general people liked him. As far as business grudges go…you know about Patrick Kingsford. You heard Nate spouting about him the day you arrived. But I can’t imagine Kingsford would meet him there in the middle of the night, or what he would gain by killing him.”

  “If it was him, or one of his people, maybe they argued and things got heated, even if it was an accident.”

  Deidre sighed. “There is that possibility, I guess. But let’s hope not.” Her stance shifted, and something in her face softened. “I checked in your friend, Mr. Riley. He’s quite a character.”

  Chloe chuckled. “He is that. It’s strange to hear him called Mr. Riley, though. We just call him Riley. Jack has ever since their SEAL days.”

  “He was in the Navy with Mr. Bartholomew?”

  Chloe nodded. “Might as well be brothers.”

  “He asked me to call him Aaron,” Deidre said, averting her gaze briefly before looking back at Chloe. “He was laying it on pretty thick.”

  Interesting. And even more so that Deidre would share it with Chloe. They had quickly developed an amiable relationship, but nothing more. Was Deidre trying to get Chloe’s read on Riley?

  She considered their dear friend. He had been alone since his whirlwind marriage ended years earlier. The thought of him and this lovely woman together made Chloe smile.

  “He can be pretty charming when he wants to be, and it comes from a genuine place,” Chloe said. “He’s a great guy. Saved my life more than once. And Jack’s too.”

  “Huh,” Deidre said, more to herself than Chloe. Then, as if brushing the subject aside, she straightened and heaved a deep breath. “I’ll check back with you later, see if you need anything.”

  “I’m fine. You’ll be too busy with last minute details with everyone checking in.”

  “We’ve got it covered. All the staff positions are filled, everyone’s here and for once, everything seems to be working. I’m just overseeing things at this point and helping out where needed.”

  Chloe rested her hands on her hips, expelling a quick breath. “Well, by tonight, you’ll see big changes in here, I promise.”

  Deidre left her to it, and Chloe called Tara Hollis, who answered on the second ring with a bubbly voice and a willingness to talk that suggested she was already sick of bedrest. Chloe brought her up to speed and made notes as Tara ran through her organizational system and the different categories of items in the collection.

  “Can I ask you something about the Will Rader aspect?” Chloe asked. “I’ve read through the police reports, and I’m wondering about this accomplice theory one of the investigators suggested.”

  “Yeah, I wondered about that too,” Tara said. “It seemed strange to me that Rader would go to all that trouble and then not sufficiently plan his getaway.”

  Exactly what Chloe had been thinking.

  “And the mention of the horse tracks in the snow—” Chloe started, but Tara interrupted.

  “That’s less convincing but it still makes you wonder. If there was an accomplice, who was it? And why didn’t Rader name him?”

  “I had the same thoughts,” Chloe said.

  “I was in the process of expanding my research into Will Rader when I left. I know he was the villain in all this, but so much time has gone by it doesn’t seem overly sensational to include more about him, and I think it fleshes out the legend better. People will want to know his story. If we can make him more sympathetic, the tale becomes that much more interesting. But I was running out of time, so I didn’t get to do much.”

  “I’d like to try to open that part of the story up if I can,” Chloe replied.

  “Be my guest. Actually, I was waiting on some information related to Rader I requested just before I left. It might get there in time for you to use it.”

  “What is it?”

  “Rader’s records from Attenborough Prison. It’s about seventy miles north of here, above Albany. I don’t know if there’ll be anything from that far back, but you never know. I was hoping to see who visited him, who his cell mates were, that sort of thing.”

  “Wouldn’t people have thought of that before?”

  “I’m sure they have. I’m pretty sure that at this point some amateur or professional treasure hunter has tried every angle. But for our purposes, it just adds depth to the exhibit. I also requested Rader’s birth records, which may tell us a little more about his family.”

  “I’ll keep an eye out for it.” Chloe shifted the subject. “You’ve spent a lot of time buried in this material. Where do you think the treasure went?”

  Tara sighed thoughtfully, and Chloe heard a slight tapping through the receiver, as if Tara was drumming a fingernail on a surface. “My best guess? He weighted down the bag somehow, with stones or something he’d gathered beforehand, and cast it into a certain spot in the river, figuring no one would be crazy enough to dive for it in the middle of the winter. I personally don’t think he had enough time in the house, and I just can’t believe he had time to bury it in the ground and cover it up in a way that wouldn’t be obvious. I think it was the river and that either it eventually got dragged away with the current, or someone on the search team who went diving in those frigid waters actually did find it but kept his mouth shut.”

  “I guess that’s as much a possibility as anything else.” Chloe heard the tapping on the line again, and it reminded her of something. “Hey, what do you think about the Lily part of the legend? The tapping in the walls and the ghost sightings?”

  “Oh, I’m a believer,” Tara replied.

  “You are?”

  “Definitely. I had to stay late most nights. One time I saw her, or at least I thought I did. It was around two in the morning, and just a quick flash of something white passed through the hallway when I was coming back from the bathroom. You might think I’m crazy, but I know what I saw. There wasn’t anyone else around and nowhere for her to disappear to. And I’ve heard her.” Tara’s voice dropped lower, growing more ominous. “In fact, hearing what I did is partly responsible for my fall. I was working late and heard the tapping in the walls. I got up to follow it and found it was coming from the servants’ stairwell near the gallery.”

  “What stairwell is that?”

  “It’s down the hall, just past the gallery landing. There’s a wooden panel that’s actually a door—you should get someone to give you the behind-the-scenes tour through all the passageways as soon as possible. Anyway, it opens to the servants’ stairwell, which takes you all the way to the basement where the kitchen is. I was following the sound, which seemed to be moving downstairs, and I slipped on the second step. I guess someone had spilled something because it was wet. Thankfully I only went halfway down—caught myself on the railing. But it could’ve been worse. The doctor put me on bedrest, but it wouldn’t have mattered. My husband refused to let me go back. He’s convinced the place is either cursed or that someone is determined to stop it from opening. Either way he wouldn’t let me set foot in it again.”

  “I suppose you’ve heard about Nate Lewis.”

  Tara groaned. “I did. It’s just awful. My husband thinks it’s further proof of Nate’s theories. Are they saying a
nything about what happened?”

  “Right now, it’s being called an accident.”

  “I hope that’s true. It’s still awful, but to think of someone murdering him…Of course that would play right into the Stonehall Estate legend.”

  Chloe decided to confide in Tara. “You know I heard her…well, not her, but the tapping. I heard it my first night here.”

  “You’re on the ‘pipes-and-old-house-settling’ team, then, huh?”

  “I definitely don’t believe it’s a ghost.”

  “Uh-huh.” Tara’s skepticism was unmistakable. “Tell you what. Let’s talk again after you’ve stayed there through New Year’s and see if you still feel the same way.”

  The rest of the records Chloe plowed through that morning failed to answer either of her earlier questions regarding why Rader would keep quiet about the stolen property’s location or a potential accomplice. According to the court documents Tara had assembled, Rader appeared before the criminal court just two weeks after he was arrested, pled guilty to all charges, and was sentenced to life in prison. He was transferred to Attenborough Prison and died in the inmate brawl just over a year later, never telling a soul where the treasure, as it had come to be called in the newspaper articles, was hidden.

  In fact there were a lot of articles in the local newspaper following the story, and even a few in New York City papers covering the robbery and Rader’s subsequent conviction. Every account reported that Rader never named an accomplice or provided any explanation for his actions. The only insight he ever offered was in an interview with a reporter for the local paper, The Hudson Gazette, when he insisted he was guilty of everything and deserved the sentence he received. He even said he had written to the Stone family, expressing his extreme remorse for the death of their daughter and assuring them that he never meant to hurt anyone.

  Chloe searched for the letter, checking the ledgers, albums and various papers in the collection, but it wasn’t among them. She made a note to ask Tara about it.

  There was a noticeable lack of information gathered directly from the Stones’ descendants. As far as Chloe could tell, there was only one person alive who might have any helpful knowledge. The family tree Tara had researched and drawn for display indicated that Cora Stone married Phineas Baker in 1942 at the age of eighteen. In 1946, she gave birth to their only surviving child, Lilyanne Baker, who married in 1966, taking the last name Caudle. Lilyanne, now seventy-one and widowed, still lived in Poughkeepsie. She had one son, who lived in California.

  Tara’s notes indicated that she’d met with Mrs. Caudle to collect family photographs, vintage pieces, and some of the memorabilia that made up the exhibit. However, Mrs. Caudle hadn’t offered any helpful insights into the mystery, telling Tara she knew nothing more about that night than what was recorded in the police reports. Tara had underscored the word “nothing” with two dark, wide lines.

  I wonder how much Tara pushed, though?

  Chloe was used to interviewing people for her articles as part of her former job. It might not hurt to contact Mrs. Caudle again. Maybe Chloe would be able to jog her memory or at least get a statement from her to add to the exhibit. It seemed a huge misstep not to have some word or quote or something from Cora Stone’s daughter—Lily’s namesake—especially when she was right down the road. Plus, there was a significant lack of writings from family members, other than Florence Stone’s journal. If Mrs. Caudle had anything from her mother in writing that even mentioned the family estate or her deceased sister, it would be a fantastic addition and worth a little extra effort.

  If Chloe was going to do this thing, then she was going to do it right.

  Fighting a yawn she decided not to make the call right then. The effects of eating too much at lunch were finally manifesting. A brisk walk to work off some calories and get her energy back up would be just the ticket. If she read any more reports and interviews, she might find herself falling asleep at the desk.

  As long as she was out on the grounds, now might be the right time to talk to Molly’s parents about the girl’s excursion that morning. The situation had been nagging at the back of Chloe’s mind, and though she wasn’t looking forward to the discussion, she didn’t want Molly repeating the adventure tomorrow.

  Leaving the gallery, she walked down the grand staircase to the foyer, where several guests were checking in. The activity made the place feel more like a resort and less like a private home they had rented. She was a bit sad at the thought of sharing the place. It had been nice having it to themselves.

  The staff were also more visible now. She passed two footmen handling baggage, one was Martin and the other she hadn’t met, and one was now stationed at the front entrance. He opened the door for her, adding a pleasant, “Good day, Mrs. Bartholomew,” as she passed through.

  The temperature had dropped since her early morning walk. The skies were changing too, the wispy gray clouds growing darker along the edges, promising more snow. She breathed in deeply, the crisp air stinging her nose. It sent a little thrill through her. The promise of snow always brought with it the promise of possibility. And she needed to believe in possibility right now.

  She wasn’t quite to the stable when Vanessa Prater walked out of it, leading a beautiful chestnut quarter horse with black legs and mane. She stopped at a hitching post.

  “Vanessa?” Chloe called out, waving while still several yards away.

  Vanessa turned, waved back, then tied up the horse. “A guest wants to ride before the snow starts up again.”

  “I suppose you’ll be getting a lot of that now, with the resort opening up.”

  “We’re ready.” Vanessa patted the horse on its flank. “We’ve been prepping for weeks to start taking guests out. Between myself and the two stable hands that start full-time after the grand opening, we’ll be able to cycle through at least six guided tours a day.” She appraised Chloe. “Did you want to go out too?”

  “Not today.” Chloe looked down into the open stable. There was no sign of the children. “Are Molly and Ben around?”

  Vanessa’s eyes narrowed. “They’re back at the cottage.” Her brows lifted in concern. “Or they’re supposed to be. Why? Did something happen?”

  “Well, no, not really.”

  How do I tell her without causing trouble?

  Chloe offered a quick prayer for the right words. “It’s just that this morning I was taking an early walk through the rear grounds—”

  “You didn’t head into the maze, did you? Not in the freezing cold? People get lost in there, you know.”

  “No. No, I didn’t. But I saw Molly running out of it.”

  Vanessa’s mouth turned down, and her head rolled to the side. “Not again. I’m so sorry.” Her tone was wearily apologetic, as if Chloe had taken offense upon finding Molly there.

  Chloe’s stomach plummeted. Vanessa had the wrong idea. “No, I mean, she didn’t disturb me, and no one else saw her. She wasn’t bothering anybody. I was only concerned because it was so cold and early, and I wasn’t sure if you knew she was out. If I’m overstepping, I’m sorry. I was just concerned that you might not know.”

  Vanessa sighed exasperatedly. “No, I didn’t know. Well, at least I didn’t know about this morning.” She put her hands on her hips, looked in the direction of the groundskeeper’s cottage, then back to Chloe. “It won’t happen again.” Her voice was hard.

  Chloe sighed. This is exactly what I didn’t want. “I didn’t mention it to complain. I hope you realize that. I just thought you’d want to know—”

  “She’s obsessed with the Lily Stone story and the missing treasure. She and Ben both. They’re convinced they can find it—as if it’s still here after nearly a century of actual treasure hunters taking their best shot. We told them they have to stop now that the resort is opening up because they’ll need to stay out of the way and out of sight. So they started sneaking out mornings, nights—whenever we aren’t watching and whenever they’re unlikely to be spotted by
staff. The kids know it’s important they aren’t seen. They’re aware we could run into issues with the company if they make a nuisance of themselves. Thank you for telling me. I’ll give her a talking to.”

  Chloe placed a hand on Vanessa’s arm. “Please, don’t. Or at least don’t say anything about me telling you. I promised her she didn’t cause any problems for anyone, and I’d hate for her to think she did. I didn’t say anything to anyone at the resort, and I’m not going to.”

  “Thank you for that.”

  “Of course. And honestly, I can’t blame the kids for being obsessed with the stolen property.”

  “Treasure,” Vanessa corrected. “Around here, the legend’s transformed the stolen property into treasure.” Vanessa offered a half-smile.

  “Well, I’ve only been studying the research on the robbery for a couple of days as part of getting the gallery ready, and even I can’t help wondering if the treasure is still here somewhere.”

  A quizzical look passed across Vanessa’s face. “Even after everyone who’s looked? The professionals they’ve had here and the metal detectors, even the divers in the river?”

  Chloe shrugged. “I don’t know, I’ve just got a feeling. Will Rader had nearly thirty minutes before they caught him, and no one knows exactly where he went during that time. He had the whole house, the maze, the grounds, the river—I can understand why the children think it might have been missed. There are so many places he could have left it. Especially if he planned well and knew the property. If he followed the family up here before the night of the robbery, he could have known a lot more about the house than they realized at the time.”

  “Huh. I haven’t thought about that possibility before.” She glanced toward the house, then waved a hand dismissively. “It doesn’t matter. I can’t have them sneaking out. Especially in the freezing cold, in the dark…it terrifies me to think what would’ve happened if she’d gotten lost in that maze in those frigid temperatures. But I won’t tell her you told me. You haven’t told the resort about Molly’s misstep, and I won’t be the one to tell on you. I’ll come up with something else, or maybe just set up those door and window alarms we’ve been threatening.” She offered Chloe a smile. “It may be the only way to rein in those two.”