Chapter Thirty-Two

Eli was with a customer when Kate arrived at Weston’s Antiques after leaving the courthouse in Pine Ridge. She moved to the side so as not to interrupt. He made eye contact with her, then returned his attention to the short, round woman who seemed intent on bartering the price of a five-dollar metal serving tray from the fifties.

Finally he let her have it for four fifty. When the woman moved to the front door with her find clutched to her chest, Kate approached Eli, weaving her way through the furniture-crowded store.

She hadn’t seen him for a while, but he seemed less stressed, his face no longer tight with the lines of worry. He offered a tentative smile.

“I’ve been meaning to call you,” he said.

“You have?”

“I need to apologize for everything I did.” He ran a hand across the back of his neck, then tucked it into his front jeans pocket. He let out a long sigh. “I’m so sorry. Can you ever forgive me?”

“Of course I can,” Kate said.

“I talked to the board as soon as I heard that the police had a new suspect and told them that I was wrong. I’ve wanted to come back to Faith Briar...but I’ve been so ashamed of myself. If you’ll have me...”

“Of course we want you back. I’m so glad to hear that,” Kate said. “It was never my intent to hurt you or your business in any way.”

“I know that. You were just helping Phillip.” He shrugged. “If I had a friend like you, I’d want you helping me start up my business too.”

“You do have a friend like me,” she reminded him.

Relief spread across his face.

“Are you still working at the lumberyard?”

“Naw. After all the publicity about the break-in at Loving’s, business started picking up here too. So I gave them my notice.” Eli’s brow puckered, and he said, “I read in the paper about all that’s been going on with you and those other mannequins. You know that some of the guys at the lumberyard were talking about how Paul’s grandpa was a crook. Is that true?”

Kate wasn’t sure how to answer that question. “I don’t think it’s true, Eli. But that’s what I’m investigating right now.” She shook her head, frustrated at the way gossip had spread across town. “Actually, the rumors about Paul’s grandfather are part of why I came to see you today.”

“Oh?”

She began to tell him what she’d discovered since their last real conversation after the expert had told them the bullet lodged in the mannequin was from a Colt .380. She told him about Lucas Wilcox’s assertion that Leonetti hadn’t acted alone in robbing the Merchants National Bank, that witnesses saw someone bringing canvas bags that looked suspiciously as if they contained money into Hanlon’s Boutiques, money that, she figured, was hidden in the hand-carved mannequins, and the supposed speakeasy that Simmonds and Nelson ran while Leonetti was away robbing whatever bank suited his fancy.

When she finished, Eli stared at her dumbfounded.

“But how does this connect to whoever stole the mannequin and wrecked Phillip’s store?” he asked.

“Well, I found a lighter with the initials W.M. on the side when someone tried to break into Phillip’s shop the first time. I’m almost positive that the initials stand for Walter Manuel,” Kate said. “He’s the man the police are looking for.”

Eli nodded that he’d heard this piece of information.

Kate went on. “His mother lives in rural Pine Ridge, and even more shocking, he’s Jack Leonetti’s great-grandson.”

Eli whistled lowly.

“He wants his money back, and he’s getting desperate.”

She reached into her handbag and pulled out the three notes and the key that had accompanied the second note on the back window of Phillip’s store.

“What’s the key to?” Eli asked.

“I’m not completely sure, though I have my theories. Walter Manuel left it for me.”

Eli lifted a wary brow.

Kate handed Eli the messages, the first with the threat, the second with the key, and the third with the legal description of the property. He studied them for a moment, then his eyes widened.

“This is my grandfather’s land. That’s right where we found the mannequin!”

Kate nodded. “I found the property description in a copy of Simmonds’ book that was donated to the historical society this week. I think Walter Manuel planted the note in the book, just as he planted the key at Loving’s.”

“So you think Manuel is leading you to him?”

“In a way.” She told him of planting the dummy from Smith’s in her garage to signal to Manuel that she still had cash to trade, and the note that followed it the very next day.

“He thinks you kept some of the money?” Eli said, disbelieving.

“His notes would seem to suggest that. I think he’s desperate,” Kate admitted. “We took what he saw as his and he’ll do anything to get it back.”

“But you’re a minister’s wife!” Eli said.

Kate shrugged. “Does he know that? He was raised by a family of outlaws—what does he know of honesty? He wants the stash of money back,” she went on, “and he can’t believe anyone would turn in that much without keeping a portion for themselves...”

“So what has he done with the money he did have all these years?” Eli asked, scratching his head.

“I’m thinking that he’d been hiding it, maybe selling the collectible dollars on the Internet or at collector’s events...” She paused, giving Eli time to take it all in.

“When he left that key,” she finally went on, “he made it clear that if I don’t find a way to return the cash, he’s going to continue what he began at Phillip’s store.”

“But that’s dangerous, Kate.”

“We have to draw him out somehow,” Kate said. “He’s managed to evade authorities this long...”

“So, you’re talking about a sting operation? What’s he going to do when he finds out you set him up?”

“I’m not planning on going to that mine alone.”

Eli began laughing. “You mean me?” He pointed to himself.

“And Skip and Sheriff Roberts. You know exactly where you found the mannequin.” She shrugged. “So, I need you to show me the way.”

“Won’t Manuel get suspicious?”

“If we all go traipsing up there together, sure! But I was thinking of something a little more subtle.”