Ghostly Graveyard (Zoe Donovan Cozy Mystery Book 17) (8 page)

Jeremy swept the baby’s hair out of her eyes. “Maybe you should see if your mom has time to babysit,” Jeremy suggested.

“My mom. Of course. She’d be happy to help, and that would provide a solution for Ellie until she figures out what’s going to happen in the long run. Why didn’t I think of that?”

“I guess you’ve been preoccupied with everything that’s been going on.”

“I’ll call my mom right now.”

I’d headed into my office to do just that when my phone rang. It was Salinger. “Thank God you got my message,” I said.

“What have you gotten yourself into this time?”

“None of this is my fault,” I defended myself before explaining exactly what I’d gotten myself into.

I could picture Salinger frowning as I explained what a huge mess his incompetent sub was making of things. I hoped Salinger would see the wisdom of abandoning his vacation and taking the next flight home.

“Sounds like Lesserman is doing things by the book,” Salinger replied.

“By the book isn’t going to cut it,” I argued. “There’s something really strange going on here. I mean, the fact that the killer was dressed like some sort of creepy monk makes this case unique in and of itself.”

“You’re certain the man you saw was the killer?” Salinger asked.

“No, I guess I’m not sure,” I admitted. “But why else would he be in a graveyard late at night?”

“You said you saw the man, screamed, and then tripped over the body. What did the man who was dressed like a monk do?”

“He didn’t do anything. He disappeared. One minute he was there and the next he was gone.”

“Had you been drinking?”

“Of course I hadn’t been drinking,” I spat. “I saw what I saw. The man was real.”

“Did he have a weapon?” Salinger asked.

“Not that I saw.”

“Did he attempt to assault you in any way?”

“No, I told you, I ran when I saw him, and when I looked back toward where he’d been standing he was gone.”

“So he could very well have just been someone passing through.”

“He was dressed like a monk,” I pointed out.

“It’s Halloween,” Salinger reminded me. “Maybe he was one of the cast members from the haunted house. Maybe he was walking home from a party.”

I took a deep breath. I hated to admit it, but Salinger had a point. The man hadn’t done anything but scare me. He could have been anyone. Of course he did take off, even though I’d tripped over a body. Why wouldn’t he stay to help unless he was the killer?

Luckily, my mom was free the entire week and agreed to keep Mariah while Ellie was at work, which made for one less thing for both of us to worry about. Mom had gotten a late start on the job of mothering, but she seemed to have taken to it like a duck on water once Harper was born.

“Thanks, Mom. I really appreciate this.” I hugged my mom when I stopped by to hand Mariah off. “Ellie really appreciates this too.”

“It’s no problem. I’m more than happy to help in any way I can. Poor Ellie really has a lot to worry about, it seems. First her cousin’s auto accident and then her assistant gets sick.”

I’d decided not to burden my mom with the real reason Kelly was going to miss work that week. I knew Kelly liked to keep her abusive relationship a secret, and I also knew my mom would feel compelled to intervene if she knew what was going on. My mom wasn’t the sort to sit idly by if she felt there was an injustice to be righted, whether she personally knew the individuals involved or not. The more I thought about it, the more convinced I was that I probably
should
fill Salinger in on the situation when he returned.

I let out a sigh of relief when I saw that Mariah was smiling and happy to be in Mom’s arms. Until it occurred to me that she seemed to be smiling and happy when she was in anyone’s arms other than mine. Why did babies hate me?

“I take it you’re working on the murder case?” Mom asked.

“Trying to,” I answered as I put the diaper bag on her kitchen counter. “I’m afraid I’m not really getting anywhere. I’m picking Alex up from the Academy and we’re going to head over to the library to work on some ideas with Hazel. Maybe something will come of it.”

“It seems like you have a new sleuthing crew for this one.”

I laughed. “I guess I do. Zak would help if I asked, of course, but he’s busy with the school and his new client. Ellie is already on overload and Levi has been AWOL since the baby arrived.”

“AWOL?” Mom asked.

“Not literally. He’s still in Ashton Falls, it’s just that I haven’t seen him since the day Ellie brought Mariah home. I don’t think he’s doing well with the whole baby thing. I’m a little worried about how this will affect Ellie and Levi’s relationship, but that’s a discussion for another day.”

“Well, I’m sure Hazel and Alex will make excellent sleuthing partners.”

“They will, especially because the letter we’re investigating is written in Latin. Ellie will come by to pick up Mariah when she gets off and then she’ll bring her by in the morning on her way to work.” I kissed my mom on the cheek. “Thanks again for doing this.”

“Baby.” Eighteen-month-old Harper had toddled into the room while Mom and I were talking.

My mom knelt down so she was on the same level with my little sister. “We have to be gentle with the baby.”

Harper reached out a hand and Mariah grinned. I wished I could stay and watch the little ones play. Although they were a year apart in age, I could see the two baby girls were going to get along just fine.

“Dad told me about Switzerland,” I commented. “It seems Zak knew as well. I’m kind of surprised you didn’t tell me about your plans.”

“I was going to,” Mom assured me. “It’s just that I knew this would be your first holiday without your dad and I felt bad about that. I talked to Zak because I hoped he would tell me that of course you could all come along with us, but as I suspected that wasn’t the case. I really would like to go see my family, but I kept waffling when it came to making a firm commitment. I don’t want you to feel deserted.”

“I don’t feel deserted.” Actually, that was exactly how I felt, but I wasn’t going to say as much.

“My mother wanted us to stay through the New Year, but I told her that I absolutely had to be back in time to spend Christmas with both my girls.”

I smiled. “I’ll be fine. Really. I have Zak now, so I’m sure I won’t miss Dad as much as I otherwise would have. And I’m glad you’ll be home for Christmas. Go see your family and have a good time.”

Mom hugged me. “You’re quite the exceptional person.”

“Right back at you.”

After I left Mom’s I headed back into town to pick up Scooter from school. My plan was to drop him off at the Academy with Zak and then pick up Alex, who was predictably excited to help me with my treasure hunt. If the clues that had initially seemed personal in nature actually did correspond to actual landmarks, maybe we could follow where they led and possibly find out what Duncan had been after.

As soon as Alex and I arrived at the library Hazel spread both a current map of Ashton Falls and a historical one out on the table. The trick would be to convert the clues, which we now theorized would pertain to landmarks, into their modern-day equivalents. To aide in our research, Hazel had piled old photo albums on a nearby table. We hoped that between the maps, the photographs, and the letter, we could figure out what Duncan was up to. And maybe if we could figure out what he was after, and who he might have run in to along the way, we could figure out who’d killed him.

As Hazel had suggested, the first clue referred to the old teahouse. Now that we knew the clue was relevant, Alex and Hazel worked to translate the letter a bit more thoroughly. Part of the problem they were having was that the letter seemed to be written using terms expressed in both Latin and a very old English dialect. Luckily, both Alex and Hazel were well versed in languages and seemed to be working it out.

“It seems like the clue refers to the position of the front door of the teahouse in relation to the building,” Alex commented.

Hazel managed to find a photo of the building as it had existed in 1915.

“I think you’re right,” Hazel agreed. “If I’m reading this correctly, the writer of the letter wanted the recipient to stand in the threshold and look into the distance.”

Hazel compared the photo to the historical map.

“Here.” She pointed to a spot on the map. “If a person stood in the doorway here and looked toward the horizon and the distant summit, they would have been looking at an area that would fall pretty much along this line.”

“That’s the old logging road,” I supplied.

“I believe you’re right,” Hazel agreed.

I can’t tell you how proud I felt to actually be helping the two brainiacs I was working alongside. Up to this point all I’d really been able to contribute was to hold down the corners of the old map.

“The second clue refers to Jacob’s fork,” Alex provided.

“There’s a peak here called Jacob’s Peak,” Hazel said.

“Jacob’s fork must refer to the intersection where you can head west toward the peak, south to town or north toward the old mine,” I mused.

Alex, Hazel, and I continued to translate the letter and then apply it to the map using old photos.

“'Wilbur’s mistake’?” Alex translated. “At least I think it’s mistake. The clue seems to point toward something pertaining to a mistake, or maybe a problem. If we translate it as problem it could even suggest a different sort of problem, like a math problem. The sentence is sort of mangled. It almost seems as if the person who wrote the letter didn’t quite know how to express what he was trying to say.”

“Let me see that.” Hazel reached for the letter. She read it over several times, jotting down some possible translations. She wrote down the words: mistake, problem, error, dilemma, dispute, issue, obstacle, trouble.

The possible translations for the word could have a similar meaning, but they could also have very different meanings as well. For example, if the intended word was mistake and we read it as problem we would still find the intended message. But if we read the word as problem and the intended word was obstacle we could end up looking in the wrong direction. I wondered how we would hone in on the intended meaning if the specific word used had both Alex and Hazel stumped.

“The clue must refer to a landmark,” Hazel stated. “The others did.”

“Folly,” I said. “I saw something in one of these photo albums about Wilbur’s Folly.”

I opened the book in front of me and began thumbing through the pages. I couldn’t remember which book it had been in, but there had been a photo of a man standing in front of a pile of dirt that had been labeled Wilbur’s Folly.

“Here.” I pointed to the picture. It didn’t show a lot of background, so it was hard to determine where it had been taken. I wasn’t sure if it could help us even if my theory was correct.

“I remember something about Wilbur’s Folly,” Hazel said. “I need to go into the back to get a book.”

“This is fun,” Alex said while Hazel was gone. “Maybe I’ll get a job with the CIA when I get older.”

“I thought you wanted to be a veterinarian.”

“I did. I do. I’m not sure. When we helped to deliver the kittens last month it seemed like the most perfect job, but now I’m not sure.”

“You’re ten. You have time to figure it out.”

I looked up as Hazel walked back into the room, reading as she went. I hoped she wouldn’t trip. I probably would if I tried to walk and read at the same time.

“It says here that a man named Wilbur Fortnight came to the area with the fortune he’d inherited from his grandfather. He didn’t really need the money mining would bring, but he had the fever and was determined to find his share of the gold in the area. The other miners knew he had money, so they came up with a plan to make him think he’d found a rich vein when all he’d really found was dirt. They planted gold in his mine and then sold him the equipment he would need to excavate at ten times the normal rate. In the end he died a broke and broken man.”

“That’s sad,” Alex commented.

“I’m thinking the clue must refer to the location of the mine,” I said.

Hazel looked at the map and then back at the book. She frowned as she considered the information. “It’s hard to say exactly, but I think the mine was about here.” She pointed to a spot on the map.

“I know where that is. If nothing else, we can drive out there to see if there’s evidence of an abandoned mine.”

“I don’t mind closing a half hour early,” Hazel said. “Not a single person has come in while we’ve been working.”

“Okay,” I decided. “Let’s take a drive to see what we find.”

The drive out of town was pleasant, whether we found the mine or not. The temperature had grown chilly as the sun began its descent, but with the thrill of the chase none of us even noticed. At the appropriate place I turned from the highway onto an overgrown dirt road that was little more than a trail at this point. The road wound up the mountain until we ended up on a flat surface. An abandoned mine shaft was evident farther up the mountain. We’d have to continue on foot, which none of us was willing to do.

“Well, there was definitely a mine here at one point. I’m not sure how we can tell if this is the one referred to in the letter.”

“It’s really cold up here and it will be dark soon,” Hazel pointed out. “Maybe we should continue this quest another day.”

“There’s only one clue left,” Alex told us. “It refers to a home of the dead.”

“It’s the old Devil’s Den cemetery,” I realized. The cemetery was clearly visible from where we stood. “Alvin wanted Isaac to go to the old Devil’s Den cemetery.”

“I think you’re right,” Hazel agreed.

“But why? Does the letter say why?” I asked.

Alex looked down at the paper in her hand. “It looks like the letter continued onto a second page, but there was only one in the envelope you found.”

“So the question is, did Duncan ever have the second page?” I asked.

Alex and Hazel both stood quietly as we contemplated the possibilities. If he’d had the second page, could he have hidden it away from the first so the treasure couldn’t be found if someone were to find just one page or the other?

“What if he didn’t have the second page,” I suggested after a minute. “What if the letter he had led him to the cemetery but not to the treasure? Perhaps that’s why he trashed the haunted house. He knew he needed to come back after dark when he could search for the treasure without drawing attention to himself, so he trashed the house so we would be forced to send everyone home.”

“Why wouldn’t he just wait until Monday, when the haunted house was over?” Alex asked.

Good question.

“He must have been in a hurry for some reason,” Hazel theorized.

I remembered that Jennifer had said the tall man Duncan had had lunch with wanted something from him and had threatened him with consequences if he didn’t deliver on time. Could the consequences he’d referred to be a cleaver to the head?

“Penny for your thoughts,” Zak said later that evening. We were curled up on the sofa in the sitting area of our bedroom. Zak had gone out of his way to create a romantic setting with a fire in the fireplace, soft music, pumpkin-scented candles, and a bottle of wine that probably cost more than I made in a year.

“Even you can’t afford my thoughts tonight,” I teased.

Zak tucked a lock of my hair behind my ear. “Long day?”

“The longest. Don’t get me wrong; I actually enjoyed my treasure hunt with Alex and Hazel, but I’m not sure discovering why Duncan might have trashed the haunted house brings us any closer to finding his killer.”