Choosing One Moment Read online

We each stood. He looked around and seeing no one watching, he put his arms around me and kissed me good-night. He felt so big and warm and comfortable. I didn’t want to leave his arms.

  There was a clap of thunder and the frogs quieted down.

  Huge raindrops began to fall and Nathaniel held me tighter. “I wish there was some way I could keep you here.”

  “I wish I could take you with me.”

  Before we could become more sappy, Nathaniel grabbed a hat he’d brought with him and put it on, ran down the steps and stopped under a tree.

  “Not a good place to be in a thunder storm,” I yelled over a clap of thunder.

  He waved and left for home.

  I climbed the stairs to my room, deciding I’d use the time to recheck old Carrie’s bedroom. Maybe I’d find a diary or a journal.

  I’d start with the shelf in the wardrobe. I’d been in a hurry the first time I’d checked it and this time I needed to be more thorough. Earlier my mind kept going back to the candy box.

  I reached far back into the left hand corner of the shelf and felt a piece of paper. Could it be shelf paper or did they even use that type of thing in 1909? I’d missed it before and one never knew – it could be something important.

  I reached back farther to pick up the paper and my fingertips touched something.

  Crack!

  Chapter Thirty-one

  I jumped like I’d been shot. Whatever was on the shelf had jumped toward my finger when it made the cracking sound.

  Looking around the room, I spied a three-legged stool in the corner. I snatched it up and set it by the wardrobe, climbing up to get a look at the shelf.

  Yes, there was a piece of paper. There was also a mousetrap.

  I was thinking about how glad I was that I hadn’t placed my hand on top of the trap when there was another, louder, crack – and the stool crumbled beneath me. I landed on the floor with a thud.

  I felt a twinge of dizziness and thought, with trepidation, that maybe it was time to go home. The feeling passed.

  “What’s going on in here?” Elsbeth ran into the room. “I was coming up the stairs and heard all this commotion and…” She saw me lying on the floor and knelt beside me to make sure I was okay.

  “I’m fine,” I said, “just winded.”

  I sat up with her help.

  Mama and Papa came running into the room.

  “We heard a loud thud,” Papa said.

  They saw I was on the floor and Papa helped me stand up.

  “What happened?” Mama asked.

  Papa picked up the stool, his forehead wrinkling in a frown. One of the legs was lying near the stool, no longer attached to it. “I made this stool myself. It’s as sturdy as it can be, or at least it was.” He took a closer look. “Well, I’ll be… Someone sawed on this just like the ladder in the barn.”

  “What were you doing on the stool?” Mama asked.

  “There’s something on the shelf and I wanted to see what it was. I found a piece of paper and a mousetrap.”

  Papa reached up and lifted down both items.

  I took the paper out of his hand. “It’s a note.”

  Elsbeth looked suspicious. “What does it say?”

  I read it to myself.

  How does it feel to have a borken finger? This is just a sampple of what you’ll go through til the time is right and I rid the world of your evil.

  Needless to say, it wasn’t signed. I handed it to Papa who read it aloud, followed by a comment about poor spelling.

  Instead of gasping in shock as I thought she would, Mama’s mouth tightened into a white line and I could practically see her blood pressure rising as her face turned red. “Well! We’ll just see about this. Those are fightin’ words, and I’m ready for a fight.”

  Papa put a restraining hand on his wife’s arm. “Now, Jane, settle down. We’ll figure this out and put an end to it.”

  She shook his hand off. “I want you to check the whole house and make sure there aren’t any other accidents waiting to happen.”

  “Yes, dear.”

  I took the note back from Papa and studied it. I could feel someone’s eyes on me and looked up to find Elsbeth watching my face intently.

  “Now, I’m no expert, but I’d say someone wrote this with the wrong hand. I mean, if they’re right-handed, then they wrote it with their left hand. I have a feeling that someone thinks we’d recognize their handwriting.”

  Papa grabbed the note out of my hand and studied it. “Carrie, I think you’re right.” He sounded like he was in awe of my deductive reasoning. “Even if not all of us recognize the handwriting, at least one of us would. What I can’t suspicion is how someone got in the house to leave these things.”

  He hugged me.

  “I just don’t understand. Why would someone be after both of my girls and write a note that sounds like it’s directed at just Carrie. I mean, it was on her shelf.”

  Mama nodded. “Both of you have found notes that call you evil, which is just the silliest thing I’ve ever heard. There’s no evil in either of my girls.” She glanced at the ceiling. “It looks like someone is after both of you, but maybe for different reasons. Have either of you done anything to hurt another? Well, Carrie, be honest and admit that your past temper has set off a few bad feelings, but you aren’t that mean.”

  I cringed. Once again, I was going to have to take the blame for the things old Carrie had done in her lifetime.

  “I’m trying to make amends, Mama. I tried to visit with Ruth today, but she didn’t want any part of me. I’m not sure what I can do.”

  “Let’s think on it.” Papa turned to Elsbeth. “I want you to think on if you’ve done a bad deed to anyone. You have a temper sometimes, too. Come to think of it, none of us is perfect. I’m sure I’ve gotten on a few bad sides myself. Jane?” He looked down at her.

  “I’m sure I’ve done my part, too, although I wouldn’t understand why someone would take it to my girls. I don’t think anyone would want to hurt me that much.”

  “Let’s sleep on it,” I said. “Maybe in the morning we’ll have come up with something.”

  Both Mama and Papa gave us each a hug and left the room, ready for a good night’s sleep. To be fair, I doubted either one would get much sleep. Papa carried the stool with him, apparently wanting to study it further.

  Elsbeth stayed behind. “Even if this person is using the wrong hand to write the notes, there’s something familiar about the writing, or maybe it’s the wording.” She shrugged. “I can’t figure it out.”

  “It’ll come to you, probably when you least expect it. Now let’s get some sleep.”

  “Oh, no. First I’m going over to Mother Possum’s to tell Daniel what happened. Then maybe I’ll sleep better.”

  “Watch your back on the way over there. Anyone could be lurking in the shadows.”

  Elsbeth smiled. “Lurking in the shadows? You sound like an old-time radio show.”

  “I’ve spent too much time with my elderly aunt over the years.”

  Her smile disappeared, but she didn’t seem upset over my comment. “I need to get moving before Daniel goes to bed.”

  She left and I sat on the edge of the bed thinking things over.

  How and when was someone coming inside the house? Of course, they could use a ladder to get into my bedroom. I frequently left the window open. It took about two seconds before I leapt off the bed and ran to the window. No sign of a ladder. I’d check the ground for marks in the morning.

  What did this someone have against us? I couldn’t imagine anyone in the family doing something to garner so much anger – not even Carrie. Maybe the suspect was some kind of nut job, which could include any number of people.

  Why leave the notes? That just put us on our guard. But, then, some people want to play cat and mouse games. They might get a sick kick out of it. Somehow I could picture Willy in that role.

  Could it be a practical joke? No, because Elsbeth being attacked with a kn
ife, and a knife buried in the ground, were deadly acts. Interesting that the perp had used a knife in both instances. It might be the only weapon available to him. Or her.

  Was it a man or a woman? There was no way, at this point, to tell. Ruth came to mind, but something about her didn’t seem to fit the profile.

  I finally got undressed and went to bed, but I didn’t sleep until I heard Elsbeth return.

  ~ * ~

  I thought I was the first one up in the morning until I heard Mama and Papa talking in low tones out on the porch.

  “Morning,” I said, joining them. “How’d you sleep last night?”

  Mama flashed a quick smile at me before returning to a somber mode. “I should be asking you that question. Did you sleep at all?”

  “Yes, but it seemed like I woke up every so often when I heard noises. I could hear Elsbeth in her room and she sounded restless; tossing and turning all night.”

  “We’ve got to put a stop to this now,” Papa said. “I don’t care if I have to arm the McGee men and place one on each side of the house. I’ll stand out in front with my rifle. One way or another, this is going to end.”

  Mama looked troubled over Papa’s statement. “Now, Clayton, let’s find another way. We’ve got enough trouble without creating more.”

  Instead of replying, he left the porch and headed for the orchards.

  Mama sighed. “Uh oh. I think I’ve upset your father.”

  “He’ll get over it.” Elsbeth stood in the doorway. “He’s right in a way, though. This has to stop before someone is really hurt.”

  I nodded. “It’s time to come up with a plan.”

  “Let me ponder this.” Mama tapped her head with her finger, signifying she might come up with something.

  My aunt and I left her to her thoughts while we went inside to eat breakfast. Mama had left bacon and hotcake batter on the sink.

  Elsbeth cooked while I talked.

  I told her about my thoughts while she was at Mother Possum’s the night before.

  She tipped her head and looked at me as though deep in thought. “I think we’ve underused Mother Possum. We’ve asked her questions, but we haven’t asked for opinions. Honestly? I think she’s a pretty smart cookie for a woman her age. She and I have lived a lot more life than you have, Carrie. We know things. We had to do things the hard way. Remember, I was eighty-eight when I left to travel.”

  “What do you think you and Mother can come up with that I wouldn’t think of?” I asked.

  “Have you ever gone fishing?”

  My aunt winked at me.

  Chapter Thirty-two

  “No. What does fishing have to do with anything?”

  She tsked at me. I mean, she actually tsked at me. “Maybe you’re not as smart as I thought you were. I’ll bet Mother Possum will know what I mean.” She laughed and flipped the hotcakes.

  There was more laundry to be done, so after breakfast Elsbeth and I washed and hung clothes. I don’t know why, but the wringers on the old washing machine fascinated me. I’d never thought about having to wring all the water out of clothing after it’s been washed, at least not with rollers.

  With that done, we wandered over to Mother Possum’s. Anyone watching would think we were out for a stroll, not on a mission.

  “Mother Possum, how are you today?” Elsbeth asked.

  “You just missed your young man.” Mother was sitting in her rocker, contemplating her pipe, and her voice was a bit crackly. I wished she’d give up her pipe, but at her age she should be able to do whatever she wanted. “He decided to go home and bring over some clean clothes.”

  One thing I’d learned was that in 1909 you didn’t change to fresh clothes every single day. You wore the same outfit a few times before it got washed – maybe several times. Interesting habits for someone from my era. It took some getting used to.

  Elsbeth sat down on the top step of the porch. “Mother, we need to come up with a plan. I thought maybe you could help us.”

  “Yeah. Elsbeth wants to know if I’ve ever been fishing. I told her no, and she said you’d know what she meant.” I still didn’t get it, but I had a feeling I should. Something was poking around the edges of my brain, but it wouldn’t step forward and clue me in.

  A grin slowly crossed Mother Possum’s face and she laughed. “Caroline McFerrin, of course you’ve been fishing. You even went with Joseph and me once when you were a little one. Remember? You tried to throw the line in the water and ended up throwing the line, the pole and your whole self into the water.”

  “Uh, oh, yes. Fishing. How could I forget?”

  “But that’s not what Elsbeth means. What do you do before trying to catch a fish?” Her grin grew and her wrinkles deepened.

  I thought for a moment and the light finally dawned. “You bait the hook! Of course. Why didn’t I think of that? But what are we going to use for bait?”

  Both women looked at me like I didn’t have a brain in my head.

  Well, I did. “You’re not serious. Elsbeth and I will be the bait? That’s something they do in books and movies. Why not just draw a target on our backs?” What was I saying? I liked the idea. It wasn’t like someone would be hiding behind a bush with a machine gun. No, just a knife. Or a pistol. Or… I didn’t want to think about it.

  Mother Possum sat up straighter. “Do you mean to say they do that kind of thing in those moving pictures?”

  That’s what struck her?

  “They do all kinds of things in those nutty movies,” I said. “You can actually tell when someone is threatening someone else. Why, I’ll bet that someday those movies will have sound. Think of that. You’d be able to hear what the actors were saying.”

  Mother Possum shook her head. I hoped it was in wonder, and not because she thought I was the nutty one.

  Nutty one. Nutty one. It suddenly struck me.

  “Aunt… Uh, I mean, Elsbeth, did you ever tell Daniel about Willy threatening us after we went to the movies?”

  “No. Did you tell Nathaniel?”

  “No.”

  Mother Possum leaned forward in her chair. “Did you girls tell your Papa about that beans-for-brains man?”

  “No. At least, I didn’t.” Elsbeth turned to me.

  “No, me neither.”

  We stared at each other for a moment.

  “Gotta go, Mother. We’ll be back later.” Elsbeth stood and started down the steps.

  I tried to follow her, but tripped when my shoe caught on my skirt once again. I heard Mother Possum saying, “Ain’t you the one?” and laughing while I picked myself up.

  We ran across the street to our house with only one thing on our minds. Willy Rhodes. Could he really be the one and only suspect we should be looking at?

  Papa was in the barn when we found him.

  “Papa! We forgot to tell you about Willy.” Elsbeth sounded out of breath. “We told you how he acted, but we forgot to tell you that he actually threatened us.” She told him about Willy and his threats.

  “Guess I’d better gather the lawman and his brother and have a talk with Willy, like we did with Jesse.” Without another word, he left the barn and headed for the street.

  “The McGee house is on the way to Willy’s place.” Elsbeth apparently decided I needed an explanation. “Willy still lives with his parents. Papa seems to have forgotten what a temper Willy’s father has. Come on. I think we’d better tell Mama.”

  She started to leave the barn, but I grabbed her arm when I had an epiphany. “Wait a minute. You wanted me here to help solve the mystery, but I haven’t been going at this the way one of my protagonists would. I’ve become too involved in the lives of the people around me and I’m not being objective. Nathaniel distracts me too much, too.”

  My aunt stopped walking and turned back to me. I was making a good point.

  “I need some paper and a pencil. I need to start making notes and figure out what makes sense and what doesn’t.”

  “I knew I could count
on you.” Elsbeth took hold of my hand and pulled me toward the house.

  When we entered through the back door, she pulled a chair out from the table and pointed. “Sit. I’ll be back with paper and a pencil in a minute.”

  “What’s going on?” Mama asked.

  Elsbeth grinned. “Mama, I want you to meet a future author.”

  “A what? What’s she going to write?”

  My aunt placed her hand on my shoulder. “Mysteries.”

  Mama’s mouth twitched. “My daughter is going to write mysteries? That’s outlandish! Women don’t write those stories. That’s what men do.”

  “Trust me, Mama. My sister is going to be famous. I’ll bet she’s going to be on the Bestseller List someday.”

  Mama shook her head, tossed a little extra flour on top of some dough and continued kneading bread. “That’ll be the day. Yes, I can’t wait to tell people my daughter is a famous author who writes mysteries.” She chuckled. “And what’s that seller list you talked about?”

  I simply sat and took it all in.

  “I’m going to find some paper and a pencil for her.” My aunt left the room.

  Mama glanced over her shoulder at me. “You two are funnin’ me, aren’t you? I read some of that Poe fella’s work, but he kind of gives me the shivers. Good author though.”

  I smiled to myself. Bestseller List. That would be the day. From Elsbeth’s lips to God’s ears. You just never knew.

  Elsbeth returned and plopped a few pieces of paper in front of me, curtsied, and handed me a pencil. “Get started.”

  “I told Carrie that I know you girls are funnin’ me,” Mama said.

  “Just wait and see if she can figure out our own personal mystery. I’ll bet she can come up with whoever is doing these things to us.”

  “Preacher wouldn’t like to hear you talking about betting, Beth.” Her voice had turned somber. “You’ve said that twice now.”

  “Sorry, Mama.”

  I began to furiously write notes to myself.

  The kitchen became quiet, other than the sound of dough being kneaded.

  I started with Willy, since he was fresh on my mind. He wanted Elsbeth for his own, but he’d take me in lieu of her. What an insult – to me. He’d made threats, and my aunt, Mother Possum and I had all heard him. I needed to know more about him. However, the fact that I’d taken an immediate dislike to him didn’t mean he was the killer.