“Thank you so much,” I said to him as we entered his cluttered office. I stared at the full bookshelves of textbooks and numerous magazine piles on the floor. “We sure appreciate this.”
“Liv, Aaron, good to see you two again.” He motioned to the chairs. From a nearby stack of newspapers, it was apparent that the chairs had been piled with them earlier. “Have a seat.”
“Nice view.” Glancing out, I noted the cluster of tall buildings of academia, and tree branches swaying from the strong wind. I removed the box from my bag, and then I placed it on the desk.
“Thank you, I’m grateful you brought this.” Dr. Williams held up the box. “This is a mystery, isn’t it?” He opened it and held the silvered ornament between his fingers. “I’ll get to it in a day or two and let you know my findings.”
“If there is an acorn inside, I’d like to have it tested for age, and perhaps general area where it grew.” I raised a brow. “This has me completely baffled.”
“As well as the detectives in charge.” Aaron frowned. “The department will certainly pay whatever reasonable costs you incur with the university.”
“No trouble. It’ll be a good exercise for the students.” We chatted for a few more minutes, then left.
Why on earth would anyone silver an acorn?
Chapter Sixteen
Checking e-mails when we arrived back at the store, I found a message from Frances, asking me to send Blanche’s dress to the Mary Todd Lincoln House. I replied:
Hi Frances, I’m more than happy to send it tomorrow. It’s good to hear from you. Someone broke into my house and destroyed the hat, the police have Blanche’s dress and will return it today. Please let the authorities know what’s owed for damages. There’s a report on file with the Minneapolis police department. Detective Mergens and Erlandsen are on the case.
Another matter has come to my attention. The newly found letter of Mrs. Lincoln’s isn’t shown on the Presidential Library website. Any idea why not? Also, in the published diary, there are a couple of pages of concentric puzzles. Do you know of anyone who has deciphered them or why she would have them in her diary?
If you can shed any light on these two issues, please let me know. The dress will be dropped in the mail tomorrow.
Many thanks, Liv
Owner of White House Dollhouse Store
After the message was sent, I checked for further messages. There were two questioning the Lost Speech. One read “Lady, get a life. Who cares?” The second one read, “You seem to be an educated person. The race is on, but I’ll win.” That caused my heart to skip a beat. Did the mysterious hacker send it? Who were they, and what were they after? Did they send me the Mary Lincoln letter that was removed from public view? Finally, What are the consequences of this game we are playing? Death?
I forwarded all the messages to the detectives.
Aaron came in from shoveling and stood behind me as I logged off.
“Two more messages about the speech. One was off-color.”
“Don’t worry, the detectives should have them soon.”
“Good.”
“ It’s tough, you being here alone, and will be until this situation is wrapped up. There are too many crazies out there.”
“Now you’re the one making me nervous.” What else was going to happen to my circle of friends? My grandparents needed attention, too.
“Let’s close up. No one’s coming in, business is slow up and down the street.” Aaron massaged my shoulders. “You are really tense. Let’s get you home and relaxed.”
“You’re right. What do you think about closing the store for a few days? Maybe like a short, mid-winter vacation?” Just then my e-mail dinged and I opened the inbox. “It’s from Inga.”
“Oh, yeah?” Aaron leaned over my shoulder to read the message along with me. “Must be her daughter writing. See, she’s signed her name, Nancy. So… she says we can take the desk, eh? We have to drop off a check first at the store?”
“Looks like it.” I frowned. “For some reason, this makes me very puzzled. There’s something about the desk that makes me uneasy, like it’s trying to tell me a secret.”
“You’re getting spooked from all of this. We do need a vacation.” Aaron rubbed my shoulders. “I’ll call the precinct for information about Blanche’s dress.” He pulled out his cell phone and called. After disconnecting he said, “They’ll bring it by right away. They had wanted one more close look at it. This case really has them stymied.”
“We’ll put the desk over there in the corner where the Civil War-era dollhouse is situated. I’ll keep the toy bear on it, since the buyer never showed up for it. It will look quaint, and hopefully catch people’s eyes as they pass the window.” My eyes lit up as I thought about it. Maybe I should invest in more presidential memorabilia to set out. “I need to pack up my mini-dollhouses to bring in and place on a shelf. That might help draw customers in.”
I thanked Nancy for the desk and told her that Aaron would soon stop with a check. Her reply came quickly and I told Aaron. “She’s at the store for a few minutes, if you want to run the check over to her.”
“Will do.” Aaron slipped into his coat while I hurriedly wrote out Inga’s check. Aaron stuffed the check into a coat pocket. “I’ll get Max to help me.” He sent Max a text message asking that they meet at Inga’s to carry the table back, and then took off without waiting for Max’s reply. Knowing my husband, if Max didn’t show up, Aaron would carry the table back to my shop by himself, without breaking a sweat or mentioning it.
As I watched for the squad car bringing the dress that they’d taken from home the other night, it occurred to me that my ladies hadn’t had their daily greeting. Strolling among the houses, I deliberately stopped near the Civil War house and looked at the president. “Mr. Lincoln, your old desk will soon arrive. Isn’t that spectacular?” Turning to the first lady, I asked, “Mrs. Lincoln, can you please tell me what the concentric puzzles mean? Please give me a clue. I’m not good at round puzzles.” After a few moments, I continued wandering among the houses, stopping to rearrange furniture or place a fallen doll upright. Soon, I was back to the computer.
I rearranged my message files, noticing a few emails had been deleted by the hacker. It was really becoming a serious problem. Next, I sent Maggie a message explaining all that had happened. Just as I hit “send,” the detectives arrived with the dress.
“Thanks, guys.” I took the large box.
“Anytime.” They left as quickly as they came. Someone banged on the back door shortly after that. I set the dress down on the work counter and opened the door wide for Aaron and Max to carry the desk inside.
They carried it to the designated corner. The small desk certainly looked different from what was shown on the History Channel. The tour of Lincoln’s Springfield home had shown a small, short, cubby-holed desk that barely had enough room to write a letter. Pictures of Abe sitting beside it showed his legs sprawled out, crossed, and him sitting sideways, in his efforts to accommodate the desk’s short structure.
Claw-foot legs, dark with age, provided support for the desk. A slanted top, when raised, revealed a comfortable writing area. Abraham Lincoln’s name was engraved on the back panel. There was a long, narrow shelf with a wooden top at the rear of the desk, presumably to hold candles. Under the writing space was a long drawer where writing pencils, quills, bottles of ink, a blotter, and a pen knife would have been stored. Letter writing certainly was much more difficult back then.
I wondered if the desk might hold a clue to finding the hidden speech.
“I’m going to find a dust rag,” I said, heading toward the workroom.
“Look hon,” Aaron said when I returned. He was studying the brass plaque with Lincoln’s name. “It’s got to be original, don’t you think?”
“Let me clean it a bit.” I wiped it down, cleaning off a smudge under the names. That revealed the date. “It was made in 1849. That’s when Lincoln returned from serving a term
in congress and resumed his legal career.”
“Is there a manufacturer’s name?”
“Nope.” I sneezed a few times. “Allergies.” I continued to run the rag over the surface of the desk, removing the dust that hid numerous scratches and scars. “I wonder if this has ever been restored?”
“Probably, but it looks like it was kept as original as possible. If Inga says it’s Lincoln’s desk, that’s good enough for me. She’s been working with antiques for years.” Aaron slid his palm across the smooth wood. “It’s a beautiful piece.”
“Well, Inga has the documentation showing that it really did belong to Lincoln, but I also agree. It’s an awesome piece of furniture regardless of who owned it.”
I smiled lovingly down at it. “The stuffed bear will look cute on it. We can set him on a small doily.” I finished wiping the desk, then reopened the drawer and stuck my hand farther inside and ran my palm over the surface. “Just checking for any hidden messages.”
“You never give up, do you? Aaron asked with a smile. I could tell he was proud of my tenaciousness.
“Nope, not me. I wonder, do you think Lincoln wrote any important speeches on this thing?”
“Shouldn’t be at all surprised.” Aaron squeezed my shoulder. “Let’s go home. I have to get ready for work.”
“All right.”
We closed up and exited through the back door, but not before letting Max know we were leaving.
After Aaron left for his evening shift, it gave me a few moments to gather up Blanche’s dress for one more look at it before I mailed it back. It took me a long time to repack the enormous dress, with all its many layers, into the slim box. After sealing and addressing the box, it was time to reward myself with some television. Tonight was not a night for researching. In the morning, after I dropped the mini-dollhouses off at the store and the dress at the post office, I planned to spend some time at the university library.
I went back downstairs to get the toy bear and set it by the back door to make it handy for the morning. A bowl of hot, leftover soup sounded good, so I heated one up and brought it with me to the living room. A number of unfamiliar cars driving past the window struck me as odd since we have a quiet street, and I know everyone on the block. I pulled the curtains closed.
When showering later, I found myself worrying about the unfamiliar cars, and stopped myself.
Was I becoming paranoid?
I vowed to stay away from the window and went straight to bed after packing up the dollhouses. Wait! Was that a prowler? I rolled over and told myself I was hearing things. At that moment, Aaron crawled into bed.
Morning came, cold and frosty.
Aaron was sound asleep as I climbed from the bed and quietly dressed. What I saw in the bathroom mirror was the deciding factor to wear my hair in a ponytail. I scribbled a message for Aaron before leaving home, telling him what I planned to do that day.
I dropped an old notebook and pen into my bag and carried the package, bear and the dollhouses out to the car, placing them in the trunk.
My plan was to drive to the university after checking on the store and dropping off the packages. Snow dripped from the trees and the cars splashed mud as they drove past. It was definitely an end-of-February heat wave. The notion of soon to come spring rain and blooming flowers made me smile.
I turned down the alleyway and parked and locked the car. Farther down the alley, Suni, Luke’s wife, was going into the backdoor of the café. Holding onto the bear and my bag, I glanced down and saw footprints embedded in the slushy snow leading from my back door to the café’s. “Strange.” I removed my boots after going inside, so as not to track across the wood floor, then went straight to the showroom.
Why was my computer humming?
I piled the dollhouse boxes on the workroom countertop to be taken care of later. I set the toy bear on the desk in the corner, and then shut down the computer. I hoped no one had hacked into my computer again.
Next on my agenda was the post office. After paying the postage, I drove to the university library.
Making tracks in slush as I walked from the parking lot, my thoughts flashed back to the slushy footprints leading to the back door of the Brew Café. Had Suni been in my store?
It didn’t take long to locate the library’s reference section. All those hours spent researching back in college had taught me how to navigate libraries with ease.
I found the right shelf, thanks to Mr. Dewey, selected four books, and carried the stack to a study carrel. I decided to visit the restroom before immersing myself in the past, but on my return, the books were topsy-turvy. Perplexed, I glanced around, but no one was near.
I opened the top book to the table of contents, found the topic, flipped to the appropriate page, and read the short entry about the Lost Speech. I shook my head. It didn’t tell me anything I didn’t already know. I scanned other pages in the book that referenced Lincoln’s speeches, making a few notes, but not finding any new information. I did the same with the other books. Before putting the books back on the cart for re-shelving, I read through my notes but felt like ripping them up.
For the life of me, I could not figure out what the speech had to do with any of the clues we had found.
How on earth could Mary’s notes connect to murder or the missing speech? If anything, I was more perplexed than when I started.
With my bag and notebook in hand, I hiked over to the elevator and took it to the main level. Soon, I was out the front door.
After all the snowfall, walking down the dry sidewalks was a welcome relief, but I feared that another winter storm would happen soon. A shiver went down my back and I stopped and looked behind me. Was someone following me? No one appeared to be taking an interest in me. I walked on, but it happened again only a block later, and I dashed into a bookstore. I stood near the storefront window and peered out. Passersby were either busy walking or chatting with a partner.
It’s only my imagination. Just as I was about to leave the store, my cell phone beeped with a message. Aaron needed cough drops. My response read: ok. I finally reached the parking lot, marched straight to my car, jumped inside, and promptly locked the doors. My heart raced. I heard the crunch of footsteps directly behind my car on the frozen slush, unnerving me. I glanced around but didn’t see anyone. A small car backed out from behind mine and drove past. I kept my eye on it until it left the parking lot. Another car came from the other side of the lot, and like the other, continued past me and left. Nothing was out of the ordinary. I drew a deep breath and slowly breathed out. After repeating that exercise a few times, I felt ready to leave. I put the car in reverse and backed out, then drove through the lot and to the exit.
Once out onto the street, I turned toward River Road, which took me to Washington Avenue. I crossed the bridge and drove into Minneapolis, winding my way through the area where a large number of Scandinavian immigrants had settled. Near a small store around the Seven Corners area, I parked and climbed from the car to look around. Did that small white car follow me? I walked into the store, purchased the cough drops, and returned to my car. I planned to soon have a cup of tea heating in the microwave in our kitchen, but a little white car image reflected in my rearview mirror. I quickly changed my mind and detoured away from home.
Circling around, I went back out onto Main Street and turned to the direction of University Avenue. I made a few quick turns and then pulled into an available parking lot to wait. In a few short minutes, the little white car drove past. After several minutes more, the white car drove by again.
Was I being followed?
Chapter Seventeen
“Honey, I’m home,” I called. I dropped my boots and coat, and went to the living room with the cough drops in hand. Aaron was lying on the couch watching Madmen reruns. I kissed him on the cheek before making a stop in the kitchen. “Some weird things happened today,” I said when I returned to the living room.
“Like what?” he asked. Aaron turned off the t
elevision and turned his attention fully to me.
“There were footprints this morning at the shop, from my store’s back door over to the Brew Café’s back door. I saw Suni going in but have no proof she made the tracks in the slush. Is that weird enough?” I sat beside him, pulling a coverlet up over us.
“It might be a coincidence, but there’s been too many of them lately,” Aaron said.
“Someone had to have followed me to the university. It gives me the creeps.” I shook my head
“The detectives need a heads-up about this. They’ll want it in the report.” Aaron pulled out his cell phone, pressed the quick-dial button to the precinct and asked to be passed to Detective Erlandsen.
As he spoke to the detective about what happened, I checked my e-mail account and sped through the messages. A new message from Dr. Williams brightened the moment. It read:
Hi Liv,
Will be doing an analysis on the acorn found inside of the silver encasement beginning next week. I’ll work it into the class syllabus. I’ve saved the silver, but would like to keep it and the acorn, just to show the class. Is that all right or is it part of an investigation?
Dr. Williams
I responded:
Hi Dr. Williams,
Thanks a bunch for everything.
I would like the pieces restored. The necklace belongs to the police.
You’ll have to contact Detective Mergens or Erlandsen.” Liv
The message was sent at the same time Aaron disconnected from his call.
“He wants us to tell him everything. Any little thing that doesn’t seem right, no matter if we think it’s stupid or not.” Aaron brought his hand up and pulled me closer, giving me a kiss. “He isn’t exactly sure of a motive for any of this. The police in Lexington, where Blanche lived, have helped as much as possible by providing names for cross-referencing. Our detectives have come up empty-handed.”
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