Vineyard Quilt: Pattern Of Betrayal Part 18

Liam stroked his chin. Julie could almost see the wheels turning in his mind. She wondered if s.h.i.+rley's story would end up as plot points in his own.

"Carrie, come play checkers with me," Kenneth said. "Liam's lost in his own world."

Carrie shook her head. "No thanks. I'd rather quilt."

Liam stood. "If you don't mind, I think I'll go lie down for a while."

Julie felt certain that was code for "write another chapter." But she wasn't concerned. Not anymore. Even though the murder still hadn't been solved, her part as hostess for the weekend was quickly drawing to a close-and not soon enough for her.

"Susan, honey."

Susan looked up to find her husband nodding at her.

"Play checkers with me?" he asked.

She rose from her seat and went to the table where he sat, never once taking her eyes from him.

With everyone settled once more, Julie decided to continue her search for Gregory, only then realizing that Sadie had disappeared as well. "Where's Sadie?"

Carrie looked up from her quilting and pushed her gla.s.ses back into place. "She was here a little while ago."

"Maybe she went to her room to lie down," Susan said.

"Perhaps," Julie murmured in return. It was a feasible conclusion, considering the night she'd had with her friend.

Julie climbed the stairs to find Inga stripping beds and piling sheets in the hallway.

"Is Sadie up here?" Julie asked.

Inga shook her head.

"Gregory?"

"Just me."

"Hmm." Julie headed back the way she'd come. After a thorough search of the downstairs failed to turn up either of the missing guests, she decided they must have left the inn.

She popped her head into the kitchen, where Hannah was at work as hard as ever.

"How was lunch?" Hannah asked.

"Delicious. You outdid yourself."

Hannah smiled in a way that said she had known that all along.

Julie stepped inside and slid onto one of the stools at the center island. She picked up a bottle of herbs sitting near Hannah's latest project and sniffed appreciatively. "Mmm ... rosemary."

"So what now?" Hannah asked. "We just wait to see if the detective gets this mess wrapped up before nine o'clock tonight?"

"Unfortunately, I'm not sure what else we can do. And with the exception of Gregory, everyone seems to be getting along well enough. I don't antic.i.p.ate any more verbal battles to break out between now and when they'll be free to leave town."

"So, all's quiet in Straussberg?"

Julie snorted. "Quiet might be a stretch. We both know something sinister is lurking beneath this peaceful faade."

Hannah nodded. "Any more leads on the journal?"

"No." Julie slid off her stool. "And on that note, I'm going to the bas.e.m.e.nt to see if I can find anything else to donate for the auction."

"You really don't think the book will turn up?"

Julie shook her head.

"Are you convinced someone stole it?"

"I don't know what I think," Julie said. "But I need something to put in the auction."

"Happy hunting."

Julie gave her friend a small salute before grabbing the large key ring off the hook on the wall, flipping the light switch at the top of the stairs, and heading toward the cellar.

The bulbs were dim, caked with dust from years past.

Other than her initial trip into the cellar with Daniel and her quest to find something of value hidden in the old wooden crates Millie had stacked in one corner, Julie normally avoided the cellar. She kept the door locked at all times as it was a potential hazard. The condition of the room hadn't changed much in the couple of weeks since she'd last ventured into the dusty, dank s.p.a.ce beneath the inn. A thick layer of grime still coated everything that she hadn't touched during her previous visits, and the places where she had been were already covered in a light layer of new dust.

She eased down the final rickety step of the staircase. She wasn't afraid of the cellar itself; she was fearful of what was above it. The whole s.p.a.ce seemed shaky, like one slight tremble of the earth could bring everything tumbling down on top of her.

Ridiculous. Quit fretting and find something to donate.

The inn was as sound as a pound, as Millie would say. Not to mention that two walls of the cellar were cut out of sheer rock.

Julie picked her way to the crates where she'd found the journal. She hadn't seen much else in there the last time, but she'd been very focused on the journal. When she found it, she quit looking and raced up the stairs to check it out. Only when she got it upstairs did she discover that it wasn't a journal but a manual with writing in the margins.

She'd heard about such things. There wasn't a lot to do in 1861 with war all around. Most of the military volunteers had been given blank journals to help them fill any downtime. Most wrote letters back home. Those men who hadn't been issued journals used what they had on them-from favorite books to government-issued publications given to them by their commanders.

Julie opened the crate full of old books and picked through them. The ones on the top she'd already seen-old copies of books that might be worth something to the right bidder, though she doubted there were any bibliophiles in Straussberg, Missouri. She stacked them to the side on top of one of the other crates that contained empty canning jars. She made a mental note to ask Millie if she could see if the local library had any interest in them.

Toward the bottom she found a couple more books-a hardcover copy of To Kill a Mockingbird that could possibly be a first edition and a leather-bound edition of The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn.

She checked both for a signature. Neither had one, but they could still be valuable. She dusted them off and then brushed her hands together. Like that did any good.

Julie stacked the books one on top of the other and started back up the steps.

It wasn't easy juggling two dusty books while trying to remain clean and relock the door to the bas.e.m.e.nt, but somehow she managed.

She carted the books into her office, completely forgetting the mess that awaited her. But when she set foot inside, everything appeared to be in perfect order.

"Inga strikes again," she mused, grateful for the woman's superhero-like efficiency.

Carefully, Julie placed the books on the desk. Then she hustled down the hall to wash her hands. She was amazed at how quiet it was in the inn today. She smiled a little to herself. May it last.

But it didn't.

The sound of a startled shout stopped her in her tracks. She quickly tried to determine if the noise was coming from outside or upstairs. There was another louder shout and then a sickening thud, like a body hitting the floor.

Julie raced down the hall, nearly colliding with s.h.i.+rley as she rounded the corner from the tearoom with Carrie hot on her heels. Hannah burst through the kitchen door.

"I thought I heard screams. What happened?" Hannah demanded.

"I'm not sure." Julie quickly led the small group upstairs, checking first in Kenneth and Susan's room, and then hurrying down the hall to Liam's new room.

Shock was too mild a word for what she saw when she opened the door. "Liam!" she exclaimed.

Liam Preston looked up from where he stood, looming over the body of Kenneth sprawled on the floor, a lamp in his hand.

FOURTEEN.

As soon as he caught sight of his audience, Liam dropped the lamp. It bounced off Kenneth's legs before hitting the floor.

Liam ran shaking fingers through his hair. "I-I didn't mean to ..." His voice quavered. "I didn't mean to kill him!"

Carrie gasped and turned her head away.

Liam collapsed onto the edge of the bed and covered his face with his hands. Julie knelt by Kenneth, feeling for a pulse.

"What's going on in here?" Susan demanded from the doorway, struggling to see past the bodies in front of her. She let out a strangled scream when she caught sight of her husband lying on the ground.

"Oh, Kenneth! Is he ...?" Susan couldn't finish.

"He's alive," Julie said pus.h.i.+ng back to her feet.

She made the announcement just as Inga joined the fray. The housekeeper took one look at the bloodied rug around Kenneth and shook her head, muttering something in German.

"Hannah-" Julie began.

"I'm on it." Hannah turned and marched out of the room with Inga close behind.

Susan knelt by her husband, gingerly touching his face. "Kenneth, can you hear me?"

Judging by the weird look on Susan's face, Julie had a feeling the woman was in shock.

"How long do you think he'll be out?" s.h.i.+rley whispered.

"I have no idea," Julie answered.

"Are you sure he's not ..." Liam swallowed hard.

"Unless dead people have pulses, I'm sure."

Susan brushed Kenneth's hair back from his face and continued to talk to him.

In record time, Inga and Hannah returned. They carried smelling salts, a bottle of peroxide, a couple of towels, and a bag of frozen peas between them.

"Here." Hannah handed the smelling salts to Julie. "I found these in the first-aid kit."

Julie snapped open the packet and held it under Kenneth's nose.

He stirred, swatting away the offensive odor as he struggled to sit up.

"Oh, thank heavens!" Susan exclaimed. She threw her arms around him, further hampering his progress.

Untangling himself from Susan's arms, Kenneth tried to get on his feet, but he failed miserably. "What happened?" He winced as he spoke, squinting as though trying to focus.

"I am so sorry," Liam said. "I thought you were the killer. What were you doing, sneaking around in my room?"

Kenneth gingerly touched his head, drawing his hand away to look at the blood on his fingers. "You hit me?"

"I'm sure it was just a simple misunderstanding," Julie said. "Wasn't it, Liam?" Please say it was.

Susan's eyes reflected the plea.

"What were you doing in my room?" Liam demanded again.

Kenneth sighed. "Can someone help me up?"

"Oh, right." Liam and Julie managed to hoist Kenneth onto his unsteady feet and over to the Queen Anne chair in the corner.

Hannah handed him the bag of peas covered with one of the towels. He winced as he held it in place on his head. Susan knelt at his feet, clasping his free hand in both of hers.

Inga brushed past all of them to work on the carpet.

"I suppose I have a confession to make," Kenneth began. "I couldn't sleep Sat.u.r.day night. So I rummaged around in the game cabinet. I thought maybe I could get a deck of cards and play solitaire or something."

"The cabinet downstairs?" Julie asked.

Kenneth's nod turned into a wince. "Yes."

Everyone waited for him to continue.

"I found the journal in the cabinet. You know, the one you showed us Friday afternoon? I couldn't imagine how it got there, and I knew everyone was running around trying to find it." He grinned sheepishly. "So I hid it."