Plain Danger (Military Investigations) Page 12

Tyler stepped onto the porch and pulled Isaac to the side.

  “Joseph, take the pie to Mamm. Tell her I will be home soon,” Isaac said.

  When the boy was on his way, Isaac turned a worried gaze on Tyler. “Is something else wrong?”

  “Matthew Schrock found the sergeant major’s body. Do you know the boy?”

  “Of course, I know him.”

  “Is the teenager truthful?”

  Isaac nodded. “You can believe what he says. He is almost a man. What do you need to know?”

  “Did you ever see the sergeant hunting on his property?”

  “Often.”

  “What gun did he usually take with him?”

  “Jeffrey had many guns. You have seen his gun cabinet?”

  Tyler turned to Carrie.

  “It’s in his office,” she shared.

  “He told me he had recorded all his weapons,” Isaac continued. “Many were old. Some antiques. He took pictures of them and wanted to be accurate in his details. There should be a binder with all the information about his guns.”

  “I’ll look for the binder.”

  “I must go now and talk to Joseph. I do not want him to think that he is forgiven because he takes home a pie.”

  “But I have forgiven him, Isaac,” Carrie assured the boy’s father.

  “The wrongdoing is forgiven, maybe, but he needs to make reparation for his actions. Sin carries a residual wrong that needs to be made right. He must help his mother and me until he has restored himself in our eyes. Then he will know he is forgiven. If forgiveness is given too easily, he will feel the sting later and the guilt will hang heavy on his shoulders. The next time he thinks of doing something wrong, he will remember if we do not make it too easy on him today.”

  “Don’t be too hard on him, Isaac.” Tyler took the coin from Carrie and rubbed away some of the red clay. “It’s an old coin, but not that old. Joseph may have thought he’d found gold, but he didn’t.”

  “If Joseph thought it was gold,” Isaac said, “I fear he might have told his friends about the treasure he found. More rumors are not needed.”

  “He’s a good boy,” Tyler tried to assure him.

  “Yah, but he will be a better boy when he learns to obey his father.” With a nod of farewell, Isaac turned and walked back to his house.

  “Forgiveness is tricky,” Tyler said, watching the man enter his home.

  “I’m not sure I’ve forgiven my mother.”

  Tyler understood. “That’s the way I feel about my father’s death. Maybe we both need to make reparation.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Maybe finding out how and why your father and Corporal Fellows died will bring peace. War was fought on this land. Many of your ancestors were wounded or killed in battle. Those traumatic deaths could pull the family apart for generations, until some type of healing takes place.”

  He looked at Carrie. “Maybe you’re here to heal your family’s past.”

  “And you, Tyler? Will you heal yours, as well?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  TWELVE

  “Let’s check your father’s office,” Tyler said as he followed Carrie inside. They headed through the main living area to a rear hallway that led to a room with large windows, bookcases, a filing cabinet and, as Carrie had mentioned, a mammoth rolltop desk.

  Tyler ran his hand over the rich hardwood, appreciating the workmanship and quality of the furniture. “It’s old and has probably been in the family for generations.”

  “It could have been the desk Jefferson Harris mentioned in his letter, where he planned to hide a map to the treasure.”

  Tyler walked toward the side wall where a tall gun cabinet stood. “Your father had quite a collection of firearms. Just as Isaac said, some of them are antiques.”

  “I don’t know guns, but I’ll take your word for it.”

  “We need to find that binder.”

  Carrie turned around in a circle and threw up her hands. “Where should we start?”

  “The desk.” He glanced at her, knowing she was hesitant to delve into her father’s personal items.

  She stepped forward and slowly rolled back the top. The surface was clear of papers. She pulled open one of the small drawers and gasped.

  Tyler moved closer. “What is it?”

  “A picture of a woman holding an infant child.” She stared down at the photo.

  Tyler peered over her shoulder.

  Her face clouded. She dropped the photo on the desk and turned away.

  He rubbed his hand over her shoulder. “Have you seen that picture before?”

  She nodded, her voice husky when she spoke. “My mother had a copy on the dresser in her bedroom. It was taken when I was three months old. She must have sent him a copy of the picture.”

  Tyler’s heart broke for her. Her mother had manipulated a story that was untrue. “He kept it close, Carrie. That should bring you comfort.”

  She sniffed and shook her head as she turned to face him. “It brings more questions to bear. If he loved God so much, why didn’t he try to find me, to have a relationship with me? All the years, he could have been in my life, but he remained distant and didn’t try to see me. That’s what I don’t understand. It hurts not to be wanted.”

  “He kept the picture. He didn’t exclude you from his heart.”

  “His actions don’t prove that to be true, Tyler.”

  “He left you this house.”

  “Maybe he felt guilty as he aged. Or maybe as Isaac mentioned, it was reparation for abandoning me. Money or possessions weren’t what I wanted growing up. I wanted a father.”

  Seeing the confusion and the pain on her face and the tears that filled her eyes, Tyler couldn’t stop himself and pulled her into his arms.

  She was soft and pliable and molded to him. The tears fell. He felt her tremble and rubbed his hand over her shoulders as she cried.

  Her grief tugged at Tyler’s heart. He remembered the loss he had felt as a child at his own father’s death. Carrie was grieving for a father she had always yearned to know.

  For the first time, Tyler saw himself as the fortunate one. He knew he was loved. Somehow over the years he had forgotten the importance of that love.

  At the moment, a stirring welled up within him of another type of feeling, a desire to protect and care for this woman who had been thrust into such despair. More than anything he wanted to right the wrongs and fix the hurts. If only he could.

  He rested his head against hers and let her cry for the past, for the loneliness she had felt growing up, for her struggle with a mother who had been untruthful and for a future that probably confused her at this point.

  Tyler knew deep within himself that he wanted her to turn to him in her need.

  Was he asking too much?

  * * *

  Carrie wanted to remain wrapped in Tyler’s arms. The pain she felt about finding the picture and knowing her father hadn’t tried to contact her eased as Tyler pulled her even closer. Surrounded by the strength of him, she felt her grief start to ease. Perhaps she would be able to sort through her current confusion and find her way, with Tyler’s help.

  Selling the house didn’t matter as much as finding who she was in relation to her father. Had he loved her from afar? As Tyler mentioned, at least her father had kept the picture of her close.

  “Shhh,” Tyler soothed. His voice caressed her heart and healed some of the brokenness she had felt for too long.

  If only—

  Realizing she was enjoying his nearness far too much, she drew back, unwilling to let her heart be swayed by a military guy. She didn’t want to follow in her mother’s footsteps. Carrie had to be careful, especially with a family history of betrayal.

  Was that what had happened? Had her father betrayed her mother’s love?

  Knowing her mother’s manipulative ways, she wondered if her mother had been the one to blame.

  “I...I’m sorry,” she stammered as she stepped
out of Tyler’s embrace. She felt an instant sense of loss, and the swirl of confusion returned to cloud her mind again.

  She glanced at the photo. “I didn’t expect to react so strongly. It’s probably a combination of everything that’s happened.”

  “You’re allowed to be emotional, Carrie, seeing the picture of you as a baby and knowing your father had treasured it all these years.”

  She shook her head. “He probably stuck it in the desk long ago and forgot he even had the picture.”

  Tyler took the photo from her hand and turned it over. “What do you see on the back of the picture?”

  “Smudges, darker patches.”

  “Caused by—”

  “I’m not sure.”

  “Caused by the oil on his fingers. He had touched the photo countless time, Carrie, probably pulling it close to stare at his precious child.”

  She shook her head. “Yet he never contacted me.”

  Tyler let out a breath. “Maybe he didn’t know where to find you. Did your mother move? Perhaps she had given him the wrong address. The world was a different place back then, before computers and social media. Telephones and letters were the only ways to connect long distance. If your mother moved or changed her phone number, your dad could have lost track of both of you.”

  She sniffed and wiped her hand over her cheeks, feeling heat from her tears. “You might be right.”

  “I know I am.” He carefully returned the photo to the desk drawer. “Why don’t you make a cup of tea and sit for a while? I’ll look for the catalogue of your father’s weapons.”

  “But I need to help you, Tyler. There might be other things of interest that we’ll be able to find together.”

  “Only if you feel up to it.”

  As much as she appreciated his thoughtfulness, she had to look through her father’s things. The search would be easier having Tyler working at her side.

  “Where shall we start?” she asked.

  “The larger side drawers on the desk.”

  Together they opened the drawers and sorted through the files and papers, looking for anything that might mention the sergeant major’s weapons or provide other clues as to her father’s past.

  Carrie found a number of sales receipts for work he had contracted on the house, for the kitchen renovations and the half bath downstairs. “I wonder if he did the remodeling because he planned to sell the house.”

  “Then changed his mind,” Tyler added.

  “Maybe we’ll find something that gives us a clue of where he would have gone if the house had sold. From what most of the people I’ve met have said, my father seemed to be happy in Freemont.”

  “George Gates could have thought your father was more interested in selling than he really was. Now he’s encouraging you to sell.”

  “Probably because his wife wants to change this into a bed-and-breakfast.” Carrie looked through the windows to the hill at the rear of the property, the chicken coop and barn and what was left of the kitchen house. “I don’t want strangers walking through this house or on this property, until I’m ready to say goodbye.”

  “You don’t have to sell.”

  She nodded. “I know. But the estate tax will be significant. I’m not sure I can pay it.”

  “That’s often the plight of farm families too and those who inherit a mom-and-pop business. The high taxes force families to sell land or a business just to have the money to pay the government. That’s something you should convince Senator Kingsley to work on changing.”

  “You’re right.”

  “Did you father have any other assets?”

  “A few things that Gates said need to go through probate court. At least my father had the foresight to put my name on the deeds for the house and land so they go to me outright without having to be held up in court.”

  “Gates is providing information piecemeal, Carrie. You need to sit down with him and go over everything.”

  “He never has time and always says we’ll cover the rest of the inheritance in a day or two.”

  “We can drive back to his office this afternoon.”

  “I’d rather talk to the Amish boy. I need to know how my father died.”

  Tyler glanced at his watch. “Let’s search the office for half an hour. If we come up empty-handed, we’ll visit Matthew and return later to continue looking.”

  “Didn’t you say something about a meeting on post?”

  “Later this afternoon. Do you want to come with me? You could wait in my office.”

  She smiled, appreciating his attempt to keep her safe. “I’ll be fine. Bailey will be my watchdog. It’s warmed up this afternoon. Maybe we’ll go outside and see if Joseph wants to toss the ball. The thought of sitting in the rocker on the front porch would be a nice change of pace.”

  “As long as Isaac and Ruth are next door. If I’m tied up after dusk, be sure to come inside and lock the doors. Call me if you’re worried.”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  “Mind if I check the closet?” Tyler opened the door and glanced at the top shelf. “I may have found what we’re looking for.” He pulled down a large three-ring binder and placed it on the desk.

  “Let’s hope it provides the gun records,” Tyler said as he opened the front cover.

  The pages had plastic protective covers. “‘A Collection of Weapons from the Harris Family,’” he read. “Exactly what we needed to find.”

  Flipping through the pages, he stopped a number of times to read the information about the various guns. “Your dad had lots of antique firearms. A few of them were passed down in the family. He purchased others at gun shows in the local area.”

  “Does anything stand out?”

  Tyler came upon a photograph that made him pause. “Here’s a picture of a Winchester Model 1894. Your father noted that it was his favorite gun to carry when he walked in the woods. The .30-30 caliber ammunition the police found in his vest would fit the rifle.”

  Turning the page, he found a photo of the sergeant major’s gun cabinet. He lifted the binder off the desk, carried it to the wall and compared the photo to the actual guns on display.

  “The Winchester is in the photo but missing in the gun rack.”

  “Is that proof enough that he had a gun with him the day of his fall?” she asked.

  “No, but it provides a clue.”

  “If so, then what happened to the weapon?”

  “That’s what we need to find out. The rifle was old. Probably manufactured some time between 1894 and 1918, by the Winchester Repeating Arms Company in New Haven, Connecticut. In good shape, it could sell for over six thousand dollars.”

  Carrie’s eyes widened. “Reason enough for someone to take the gun.”

  “Exactly. If the weather’s good tomorrow, I’ll hike up the hill and see what I can find.”

  “I’ll join you. Bailey can tag along too. I’m sure he’d like to romp in the woods.”

  “And chase squirrels.” Tyler smiled.

  Carrie glanced at her watch. “Why don’t we postpone looking for the photos of my father until later so we can visit the Amish boy?”

  Tyler nodded. “Let’s go now. Hopefully we’ll find him at home.”

  Returning to the foyer, Carrie lifted her coat off the hall tree and turned to Bailey. “We won’t be gone long.” She nuzzled his neck.

  As Tyler helped her with her coat, his hands lingered ever so lightly on her shoulders, causing an unexpected warmth to curl along her spine.

  She stepped away from him, somewhat flustered. Her cheeks heated, and she glanced quickly at the hallway mirror to make sure she wasn’t blushing.

  “Is something wrong?” he asked, evidently oblivious to her unease.

  “Just thinking of what we might learn today.” True though her statement was, she was even more agitated by Tyler’s touch. The memory of being wrapped in his arms was still so fresh.

  When she had cried, he had comforted her, as any caring individual would do.
She shouldn’t read anything else into his embrace. It had merely been a compassionate response to her unexpected reaction after finding the photograph. Hadn’t Tyler said as much?

  Fumbling with the buttons on her coat, she stalled for time until her cheeks cooled and she could readjust her mindset.

  Steeling her resolve, she reached for her purse. “Ready whenever you are.”

  He followed her onto the porch. She locked the door and walked with him to the car. Again he touched her arm as she slipped into the seat. Biting the inside of her cheek, she focused on the discomfort in her mouth instead of the ripple of response from his touch.

  In DC, she had distanced herself from most men, other than those with whom she worked. They were older and married, except for the senator’s senior adviser, who was recently divorced. Senator Kingsley was, as well.

  In his early fifties, the senator had seemed more like the father she never knew rather than a boss. Although perhaps she had read too much into their relationship, especially since he still hadn’t called to check on her.

  Finding her cell in her purse, she glanced at the phone log to ensure that she hadn’t missed his call.

  “Has the garage phoned concerning your car?” Tyler asked as he started the engine and navigated out of the drive and onto Amish Road.

  “I was checking. Not yet.” Disappointment fluttered over her. Perhaps the senator hadn’t received her message. She’d try to call him again later today.

  “Did Isaac give you more specific directions to the boy’s house?” she asked.

  “He just said it wasn’t far.”

  Finding the turn, Tyler pulled onto an intersecting dirt road that wound through a thick patch of forest. A clearing on the right revealed a small one-story house with a porch and side chimney. Chickens pecked at the grass, and a goat stood tethered near the house. The animal glanced up as Tyler turned onto the property and braked to a stop.

  “The place needs paint,” Carrie said, eyeing the slope of the front porch, the torn screen door and the window patched with cardboard. “And maybe a renovation crew.”

  Tyler nodded in agreement. “Looks like the Schrock family is struggling to hold on.”

  “There, Tyler.” She pointed to a teenager who peered from the nearby barn. “That might be Matthew.”