Chapter Nineteen

Bev crossed the street and went through the kitchen door, guilt weighing heavily on her shoulders. She'd never so much as uttered a cross word with the butchers, let alone been kicked out of their shop. They had every right to be angry with her, which made things all the more upsetting for Bev.

Biscuit was waiting for her in the kitchen, seeming to understand that she was in a mood, so he nuzzled her leg then went back to sleep. She chopped vegetables, checked on her bread, and tidied up as she went. Normally, these kinds of mundane tasks got her mind moving, considering the problem from new angles. But all she could think about were the tears in Ida's eyes, and how disappointed both butchers were in her.

Thud.

Bev stopped short, her gaze lifting to the ceiling. Biscuit lifted his head to sniff, turning toward the kitchen door.

"What d'ya reckon that was?" Bev asked, wiping her hands on her apron. "The boys getting into trouble?"

She fell silent as the sound of raised voices echoed down from above. She rolled her eyes and took off her apron, leaving it on the table as she hurried out into the main room. She took the stairs two by two until she came upon the scene: Collin and Bernie were arguing with Wallace, and someone's traveling pack had been spilled onto the floor.

"What in the… What's going on here?" Bev said.

"I was helping Collin move his things into Bernie's room," Wallace said. "Since we're expecting Mr. Flanigan and his soldiers soon."

"More like dumped my things on the floor," Collin said with a huff as he bent down. "And then accused me of theft!"

"Wallace," Bev said, looking at the clergyman.

"First of all, his bag slipped out of my hand," Wallace said, though from the look on his face, the cleric wasn't used to lying. "Second, I didn't accuse anyone of anything. I merely asked if he might've seen my ring among his items."

"He flat-out asked if I'd stolen it!" Collin said. "Said it made sense, considering that I didn't have any other skills to speak of. I don't see why he's not accusing Bernie of stealing it. He's as lacking in a real job as I am!"

"Don't bring me into this!" Bernie said, holding up his hand. "I don't like jewelry."

"A likely story," Collin said with a sneer. "And you want me to bunk with him tonight? I'd rather—"

"You are, of course, all welcome to leave," Bev said, lightly. "No one's keeping you here."

"They can't!" Wallace said. "Not until I've found my ring."

"Then I suggest you go back to the sheriff's office and file an official report," Bev said. "In the meantime, Collin, Bernie: since you're being asked to move rooms, tonight's on the house. Wallace, if you can't keep your accusations to yourself, I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

The three men quieted, looking at each other with more animosity than Bev had seen from any of them.

"Now, why don't we all take a collective breath," Bev said. "Wallace, we'll search for your ring. I'm sure Bernie and Collin would be happy to let you look in their things. After all, if there's nothing to hide, there's nothing to be worried about, hm?"

"I didn't take your stupid ring," Collin said, gathering the shirts and stuffing them back in the bag before marching into Bernie's room.

Bernie shrugged. "You're welcome to look in my things as well. I have nothing to hide."

"No one will be searching anything," Bev said. "May I speak with Wallace alone?"

Bernie disappeared into the room, leaving Bev and Wallace out in the hall.

"Wallace, what did I say about searching their rooms?" Bev said, with an exhausted sigh. "I've half a mind to kick you and your husband out. You keep talking about leaving anyway.

The cleric hung his head. "I'm sorry. I was just hoping to get it back before… But maybe Paul won't notice it's missing. He'd be furious at me for losing such an expensive item."

"I'm sure he'd notice…" Bev stopped, looking at him. "Wallace, does your husband know the ring is special?"

"Not exactly." He glanced around and lowered his voice. "You know, he's a wonderful man, but he's so…uh…well, focused on the business side of things. I feared if I told him…he might ask me to well, use it in ways I didn't quite agree with. Wanting me to persuade people to give us discounts, that sort of thing. As a rule, I don't tell people what the ring could do."

Bev had a hard time believing that, considering how easily the information had come out of him. "I see."

"He's a good man, I promise. Just…a bit anxious. Worried about money because he never had any growing up—"

"Did your ring tell you that?" Bev asked, tilting her head.

He lowered his hands helplessly. "I'm not a bad person, Bev."

"I don't think you are, Wallace. But you need to shape up. We have a cohort of soldiers arriving soon, and I don't want to give them any reason to believe any of us need to be led away in handcuffs." Bev sighed, thinking of the Witzels. "So let's just be on our best behavior tonight, and everyone can be on their way in the morning."

~

Bev returned to the kitchen and exhaled loudly. Biscuit was still by the hearth, watching her intently. She narrowed her gaze at the laelaps.

"You didn't take Wallace's ring, did you?" Bev asked.

He let out a low ruff.

"I'm going to believe that's a no," she said with a sigh. "But if you did, be a lamb and return it, will you?"

Biscuit curled into a ball and fell back asleep.

Bev went back to work on dinner, but the hour was growing late, and there was still no sign of Ida. Bev wondered if the butchers had decided against filling her order, perhaps out of spite, but she wasn't brave enough to venture across the street again. She could get dinner made in under an hour if needed (it wouldn't be her best, but it would be edible), but she would need that meat.

Finally, at just past four-thirty, the back door opened and Ida walked in carrying the promised food.

"Ida, I'm so glad that—" Bev stopped, registering the tears on Ida's face. "What is it?"

"We've…" She glanced around as she put the meat on the counter. "I can't stay long, or else Vel will know something's up."

"What is it?" Bev asked, walking up to her. "What happened? Another letter?"

"Yes and…" Ida swallowed. "Yes and no. After you left, Vel got… Well, she wanted to…" Ida ran a nervous hand through her hair. "Vel decided it was time to respond. So she wrote a note and told the blackmailer that we'd… Well, we'd meet them at Herman's house with the money. And they left this."

Monday's house it is. 9 o'clock tonight. Don't try anything funny or I'll have Dag Flanigan at your door.

"Ida, you can't possibly be thinking of paying them," Bev said. "And why in the world did Vellora want to meet him at Herman's house?"

"Because it's empty," Ida said. "Because Vellora isn't planning on paying them." Ida bit her lip, her eyes filling with tears. "She's planning on…well, snuffing out whoever it is. That's why we agreed to meet them at Herman's house. Vel said… She said that it would muffle any screams."

Bev put her hands to her mouth. "Ida, you can't let her—"

"That's why I'm here," Ida said, clearing her throat. "Vellora thinks we don't have a choice but to fight him, but we do," Ida said, throwing her shoulders back. "If you still have it, can I get the gold I paid you for the p-party?" Her voice cracked as a single tear leaked down her cheek. "I guess we'll have to cancel it, but…but that's all right."

Bev watched her for a long time, then nodded sadly, crossing the kitchen to retrieve the gold satchel Ida had given her a few days before. She gave it to Ida wordlessly, wishing she had something—anything—that might change her mind.

"Thank you," Ida said, inhaling. "Hopefully, with this, I can talk some sense into my wife. Then we can pay him and he'll just…he'll just leave us alone."

Bev watched helplessly as Ida left her in the silent kitchen. Mechanically, she turned to prepare the meat, her mind spinning as she ran through her list of suspects for what felt like the millionth time. Collin, Bernie, Paul, Wallace—

No, not Paul and Wallace, she corrected herself. Not with that magic ring.

So Collin and Bernie, then. And maybe Estera, too.

Whoever the culprit was, the butchers were going to find out tonight.

Biscuit let out a low bark, and the front door to the inn scraped open. The soldiers had arrived.

"All right, Bev," she muttered to herself. "Toughen up. The butchers will be fine. A bit lighter on gold, but they'll manage. Tomorrow, everyone will leave, and things will go back to normal."

But even as she said the words, a disappointing weight settled in her stomach. Still, she plastered on her best smile as she ventured out to greet her guests.

Flanigan stood at the front desk, that jagged scar standing out like a sore thumb. Behind him, Bev counted the five soldiers he'd promised, including Henry from the tea shop and young Estera, who was all but hiding behind the rest of them, perhaps not wanting to be noticed.

"Welcome to the Weary Dragon," Bev said, meeting them at the front desk. "Or welcome back, I should say. Glad to see you again, Estera."

"Oh? You know each other?" Dag asked, glancing at his charge. "You didn't mention you'd been in town."

"I stayed here briefly," Estera said. "The snow, you know. Got caught."

"She left in such a hurry," Bev replied, glancing between the soldier and her commander to see if Estera had told Dag about why she'd departed so quickly.

"Just eager to see my mom," Estera said, with a meaningful look.

"And did you get to see her?" Bev asked.

"Unfortunately, no," Estera said. "No, I ran into… And um…" Her face flushed. "Anyway. I'm back at work."

"That's a shame. Hopefully, you'll get to go home soon." She turned to Dag, who was watching the exchange with interest. "Mr. Flanigan, I was able to consolidate some guests to find you six beds in three rooms. Just the one night, correct?"

Dag nodded. "Unless there's a pressing need for us to stay longer."

"Can't imagine you'd find one." Bev scrawled Queen's Soldiers on rooms two, four, and five. "That'll be three gold pieces."

He placed the money down on the table. "I assume dinner will be served soon?"

Bev nodded and handed them their keys. "Yes, of course. I'm just about to put it in the oven. Just got the meat delivered from the butcher, so it should be about an hour before it's ready."

He grunted in affirmation, then divided the keys amongst the soldiers, and all of them, save Estera, marched upstairs.

"Butchers, huh?" she said, twisting her hands. "Hope you didn't mention I was back. Would hate to see them… Well, would hate for that big one to find out who I work for."

"I would as well," Bev said. "But I am happy to see that you're safe. The lot of us were worried about you in all this weather."

She puffed out her chest. "No need. Been freezing my butt off in a tent instead of sleeping in my own bed. But it's fine. My mom probably wasn't looking forward to seeing me anyway."

"So you've been in town this whole time?" Bev asked, trying to avoid sounding suspicious.

"I wouldn't say in town," she said, making a face. "If you call sleeping in that forest north of here in town."

"No, can't say I would," Bev said. "Well, the fire's warm down here, and if you're still chilled, I'd be happy to make you a cup of tea. It won't be the same as your mom's but—"

"Thanks." She gave the briefest of smiles. "I'm going to go upstairs and rest. Been a busy day. Busy day tomorrow, too, I'd bet."

Bev nodded as the soldier dashed up the stairs. Estera's return added yet another wrinkle to an already complicated picture. Bev had an inn full of suspects, and her time was running out to identify the real culprit.