Chapter Twenty-Eight

On Sunday I got a call from Brad, asking me to accompany him on a visit to Delbert Frye’s cabin. He explained that the main purpose of the visit was to return the gold coins. Since they weren’t actually evidence in any ongoing case, they could finally be returned to a representative of the Frye family.

“He asked for you,” Brad said, when I questioned this invitation.

“Really? That’s odd. I could see him wanting you to bring along Walt Adams or some other friend, but me? I’ve only met the man once.”

“Perhaps so, but he said he had a reason. Don’t worry, I’ll be there. And Richard can come along if you want. I don’t think Delbert would mind.” Brad cleared his throat. “Alison will be there too.”

“Oh? I guess that makes sense. She has an interest in the coins as one of Delbert’s only living family members.”

“Maybe. I don’t know. The old man asked me to bring her along, that’s all I know.”

“Why don’t Richard and I meet you at Delbert’s cabin? That way you and Alison won’t have to drive out of your way.” And can go home together, I thought, but of course I didn’t say anything like that aloud.

Richard, on the other hand, was quite vocal about his feelings as we drove up the dirt road that led back to Delbert’s cabin. “And there goes my suspension,” he said as we bounced out of a particularly deep pothole.

“Oh, I’m sure this car can handle a few jolts.” I stared out the side window to hide my grin.

“Yeah, but not a moonscape.” We hit several additional rough patches before pulling up in front of a log cabin nestled in a small clearing surrounded by towering trees. “Now that’s what I call rustic,” Richard said as he yanked the keys from the ignition and pocketed them.

The cabin, built from hand-hewn logs, had chinking that was tinted green by moss. A spiral of smoke coiled up from the ivy-draped fieldstone chimney.

“I see Brad and Alison beat us.” I pointed at the sheriff’s department vehicle as Richard and I crossed the leaf-strewn yard to reach the cabin’s weathered front door.

“Well, Brad probably doesn’t mind driving that tank fast over these back roads. I, on the other hand …”

“I know,” I said, sliding my hand through his crooked arm as he knocked on the cabin door. “Admit it—you’re still a city boy at heart.”

“About some things.” Richard looked down at me with a smile.

The door cracked open. “Hello, Amy,” Delbert Frye said, eyeing Richard with suspicion. “Who’s this?”

“My boyfriend, Richard Muir. He’s also my neighbor—he’s Paul Dassin’s great-nephew and inherited Paul’s house.”

“The old Cooper place, you mean.” Delbert swung the door back and turned away. “Come on in then. Just shut that door behind you.”

Walking into Delbert’s home was like stepping back in time. The main room was wreathed in shadows. The small windows set into the exposed log walls didn’t allow in much light, and there were no overhead light fixtures, only standing lamps that cast yellow ovals of light over isolated areas. Most of the furniture that filled the room looked handmade, as did the faded rag rugs that covered the wooden plank floors. Looking up, I examined the shelf that ran in a continuous track around all four walls. It was set just far enough below the timbered ceiling to accommodate stringed instruments of all shapes and sizes. There were fiddles and banjoes and, of course, a wide variety of dulcimers.

As Richard and I followed Delbert over to a seating area near the stone fireplace, I slid my fingers over the smooth surface of a side table set next to a bentwood rocker. One of Walt’s pieces, I realized, recognizing the distinctive style.

“Have a seat.” Delbert indicated a pine settle draped in a woven wool blanket. “Brad here’s been telling me how you discovered my family’s old gold coins up there in that cavern. Glad they came in handy against that Bartos fellow.”

Brad was seated in an armchair so worn that the springs visibly pressed against the thin floral-patterned upholstery. He fiddled with the rawhide tie on the old leather pouch he clasped between his hands. “Yes, that was fortunate. Otherwise, from what I hear, Ms. Alexander might not be alive today.”

“A good twist of fate,” Alison Frye said, her ankles primly crossed as she perched on the edge of a ladder-back wooden chair. She waited until we sat on the settle before meeting Richard’s eyes. “I do want to apologize, Mr. Muir. It seems I was a bit hasty in suspecting you of any involvement in the Lacey Jacobs case.”

“No problem.” Richard draped his arm across the top of the settle behind my back. “You were just doing your job.”

“We do have to follow every lead in such cases,” Brad said. “But I know Deputy Frye feels bad about hounding you, Richard.”

“It’s okay to call her Alison,” I said. “Since you’re dating.”

Delbert cast a sharp look at his grandniece. “Is that right, Allie? You’re seeing the chief deputy now?”

The young woman’s cheeks flamed red. “Yeah. I would’ve told you, Uncle Del, but there hasn’t really been time.”

Delbert sat on a stool by the hearth. “Makes no difference to me, though now it makes more sense why you changed jobs. Should’ve figured something was up with that. More than just being ashamed of me, I mean.”

Alison clasped her hands in her lap and leaned forward, her gaze fixed on her great-uncle. “You put that out of your head. I wasn’t ashamed of you. I knew you’d never actually shoot anybody, for all your bluster.”

“Good to know.” Delbert grabbed an iron poker and jabbed at the smoldering logs in the fireplace. “I don’t want you to think too badly of me, Allie, ’specially as you’re about the only family I have left.”

“Yes, and that’s why she’s here today.” Brad held up the leather bag I’d discovered in the mountain cave. “You know I came here today to return this to you, Mr. Frye. As well as to apologize again for your arrest.”

“Don’t worry about that.” Delbert leaned the poker back against the rough stones surrounding the fireplace. “It was my rifle that killed that lady, after all.”

“But not you wielding it,” I said. “That was all Charles Bartos, and it seems he wasn’t above trying to frame you.”

“Got sorted in the end,” Delbert said gruffly. He turned his attention to Brad and the pouch the chief deputy was balancing in one palm. “So the Frye family gold has finally turned up. After all these years of the family searching and searching, there it is.”

I leaned back against Richard’s arm. “Did you ever look for it, Mr. Frye?”

“No, never cared nothing about it.” Delbert waved his arm, indicating the various musical instruments that filled the high shelves. “I have everything I want right here. I never could imagine what I’d spend that money on, so I didn’t ever bother looking. Besides”—he met my questioning gaze—“I knew that was blood money.”

“What do you mean, Uncle Del?” Alison asked.

Delbert stood and gripped the edge of the timber mantle with one hand. He stared into the flames for a moment before speaking. “That gold was intended to give my great-great-aunt, Ada Frye, and her friend Violet a new life, but all it brought them was death.”

I sat up straighter, allowing Richard’s arm to slip off my shoulder. “The family did know for sure that they had died?”

“Yes, they knew.” Delbert turned and leaned against the stones behind him as he surveyed us. “You may have heard that Ada wanted to escape a bad marriage. That was true enough, but only the family knew how bad it truly would’ve been. The man her father wanted her to marry was rumored to have beaten his first wife. Maybe even killed her, for all anyone knew. But he owned an adjoining farm that bordered the river, so his property would have provided a constant source of water for our family’s livestock and crops. Ada’s father wanted that land, or access to it, anyway. Only way he could get it was to offer up Ada’s hand in marriage.”

I studied the old man’s drawn face. He didn’t seem to know the truth about Ada and Violet’s relationship or, if he did, had no inclination to disclose it. Which was his prerogative, of course. I certainly didn’t intend to bring up the subject.

“That’s awful.” Alison sank back in her chair. “No wonder I’ve never heard that story. Doesn’t shine a very good light on our family.”

Delbert looked at her with compassion. “Don’t worry about that, Allie. It’s in the past. Nothing to do with us.” His eyes narrowed. “Although I have kept it quiet, just like the rest of the family, out of shame. But no more. Time the truth came out.”

“Playing devil’s advocate”—Brad placed the pouch in his lap and reached out to clasp Alison’s clenched fingers and pull one of her hands onto his knee—“I know the girls took the coins as a way to start a new life after they ran away, and I understand that finding the money might indicate that they didn’t make it over the mountain. But Amy also told me about finding some letter that referenced Violet’s cousin, who was willing to help them after their escape. She said she hadn’t heard from Violet at the point when she wrote the letter, but maybe she did hear something later. We don’t really have any evidence either way, so how can you be sure they didn’t make it? They could’ve just lost the coins somehow.”

Delbert cast Brad a sad smile. “I know they died. I know because I heard the story whispered by the old folks at family gatherings and such.” His gaze shifted to Alison. “I know because the truth is that Ada’s daddy hunted those poor girls down and killed them.”

Alison gasped. “You have proof?”

“Not absolutely, but the tales I heard sounded real enough, and my granddaddy swore it was true. Also …” Delbert took a deep breath. “I was told that Ada and Violet took refuge here after hiding the coins somewhere. A bad storm blew up and I guess they decided to risk using the family hunting cabin to wait out the weather before continuing on. Anyway, Ada’s daddy tracked them here.”

“But why kill them?” I asked. “Why not simply drag them back home?”

Delbert rubbed at the back of his neck. “What I heard was that they wouldn’t give up the location of the coins and my great-great-grandfather lost his temper and killed them in a rage. Or murdered the one, and then felt that he had to silence the other girl too.” Delbert glanced at me, his stare as piercing as if he could read my thoughts. “There were other rumors too. Whispered confidences about the girls being in love with each other. That’s something you hear about a lot these days, and now it’s not such a big deal, but back then … Well, I always wondered if maybe it was another reason my ancestor killed Ada and Violet. Didn’t want that stain, as he would’ve called it, on the family. I could see that happening, although I don’t see any real harm in such relationships myself. Love is good wherever you find it, is what I think. You learn that when you lose it.” Delbert shrugged. “Anyway, all this stuff is just what I heard, third- and fourth-hand, so who knows? I do know that there’s a spot out back, in the woods, that’s mounded up a bit, and usually covered in mushrooms. Always thought it kind of looked like a grave.” He rubbed at the back of his neck. “But all I’m absolutely sure about is that my daddy and others were constantly searching for that gold. That’s how I know they truly believed it was still hidden somewhere in these mountains.”

“Now it’s yours.” Brad patted Alison’s hand before releasing his grip and rising to his feet. He crossed to Delbert and offered him the old leather pouch.

Delbert stared at Brad’s extended hand. “You can march that straight over to Ms. Webber, Chief Deputy. I’m donating it to the town library and archives. Let them sell the coins and collect the money and use it for good. I don’t want nothing to do with it.” He glanced past Brad to catch Alison’s eye. “That’s if my grandniece agrees.”

“I do,” Alison said with a sniffle. She rummaged through her jacket pocket and pulled out some tissues. “Thank you, Uncle Del. I think that’s the only right thing to do,” she added before blowing her nose.

Brad looked from Delbert to Alison and back again. “You sure? It’ll probably turn out to be quite a bit of money.”

“Like I said, I don’t need none. Now, if Allie wanted it, I might think differently, but it seems she don’t, so let the library have it.” He cast me a faint smile. “They do good work, I hear.”

“Wow,” I said, sharing a look with Richard. “That could certainly be put to great use. Thank you so much, Mr. Frye.”

Delbert smoothed down the front of his white cotton shirt. “I just wonder if maybe you could put up a plaque or something, recognizing Ada and her friend.”

“We certainly can. Heck, we can name the archives for them, if you want.” I met Brad’s approving gaze. “I’m sure the town council would applaud that gesture.”

“That would be nice,” Alison said.

I allowed my gaze to wander over the room, taking in the beautiful instruments that lined its upper walls. “But I do have one request before I accept this gift, Mr. Frye.”

Delbert wrinkled his brow. “I offer up a fortune and you’re making conditions?”

“Yes, but this is one I think you won’t mind. At least I hope not.” I pointed at one of the dulcimers. “Would you play for us, Mr. Frye? I’d love to hear you again.”

Delbert’s eyebrows shot up, but he chuckled. “Is that all? Why sure, if you want. Deputy Tucker, give that gal those coins and grab me that dulcimer up there at the end of the row, would you?”

As Brad handed me the pouch containing the coins, I asked him the question that had been puzzling me off and on ever since Lacey had been found. “By the way, did you ever figure out who left that footprint outside of Mary Gardener’s house?”

Brad lifted his eyebrows. “The bare-toes one? No. It doesn’t appear connected to the Lacey Jacobs case, so I just wrote it up as an unsolved anomaly.”

Alison shifted in her chair. “I think it was some local kids playing a prank on an old lady.”

“Probably,” Brad said as he turned away from me to head for the shelf holding the requested dulcimer. “That’s as good an explanation as any, I suppose.”

“I’m sure that’s what it was—some teenagers with nothing better to do. You know the kind,” Alison said, meeting my questioning gaze. “They think it’s funny to tease a woman like Mary. It’s happened before, although not recently. But up until a few years ago, she used to be asked to share town folklore with Mr. Arnold’s high school history class.”

“Right,” Brad said as he crossed back over to Delbert’s chair. “There were often incidents of vandalism and other pranks occurring at her house after her school visits.”

Alison nodded. “I remember from my own school days that there was a lot of giggling and sneering over her obvious belief in fairies.”

“Better to call them the Folk, Allie,” Delbert said, shooting his great-niece a sharp glance as he took the dulcimer from Brad’s hands.

“Now, Uncle Del, don’t tell me you believe in such things,” Alison said, catching Brad’s eye and giving him a smile as he sat in the chair next to hers.

“I just see no sense in taking any chances,” Delbert said. “I’ve lived in these mountains long enough to know that I don’t understand all their secrets,” he added before focusing on tuning the dulcimer.

I set the leather pouch on my upper thigh and placed my hand over it. Richard laid his left hand over my fingers and leaned in to whisper in my ear, “After all this time, isn’t it ironic that this treasure will finally do some good.”

I met his intent look with a smile. “First to protect Trish, then to help the library. I think Ada and Violet would be pleased.”

He gave me a smile in return as Delbert launched into a traditional folk song I’d heard many times before. But somehow his rendition was more pure and true than any version I’d ever heard. Perhaps it was the words he spoke before launching into the lyrics.

“This one is for Ada and Violet,” he said.

I leaned into Richard, who pulled me close while we listened to Delbert sing the haunting words.

I’m just a poor wayfaring stranger

Traveling through this world of woe

But there’s no sickness, toil, nor danger

In that fair land to which I go …