Hoaley Ill-Manored (15 page)

Disconnecting, Adam slowed the truck and
turned into a gravel parking lot beside a small, tan brick
building. He rolled his eyes at Mink. “She’s on a roll.”

Mink snorted. “What are we doing here?”

“We’re gonna see a man about some
jewels.”

DS

Turned out the “man” was a woman. Adam made
introductions, and then filled the proprietor in on what he needed.
“Officer Krepps told me you had records of all the items that were
stolen that night at the Bilsworth Manor. The night Jenks was
killed.”

Bev Wilkins seemed only too happy to help
Adam with his quest. The museum proprietor was older, probably in
her mid-forties, and had the thick middle and wider hips of a woman
that age. But her pretty, brown face was unlined and her wide brown
eyes were sharp with intelligence. She was obviously proud of her
little museum. “We have an entire wing of information on Bilsworth
Manor,” she told them. “It’s our most popular section of the
museum.” She led them into a small annex off the main room and
indicated the glass case in the center. “These are replications of
the things we’ve been able to identify from that night. Of course
the real items were never recovered…most of them anyway…but we’ve
painstakingly reconstructed as much of that night as we could.” She
leaned closer to Adam and spoke conspiratorially. “There’s a lot of
speculation in Ashville that those jewels are still hidden
somewhere in the manor. In fact Chief Deputy Robinson has his hands
full trying to keep all kinds of treasure hunters out of the
place.” She shook her head. “It’s been a real problem for the
owners.”

Adam knew a gargantuan understatement when
he heard one. He nodded. “Yeah, I’ve already felt the sting of that
one.” At least he thought that’s what was going on. “So the police
believe all these ‘events’ at the manor are the result of treasure
hunters?”

“They do, yes. But lots of us think there’s
more going on there.”

Mink’s eyes widened theatrically. “What do
you mean?”

Bev Wilkins recognized a fellow Thespian
when she saw one. She was only too happy to dive into her shtick.
“You heard about the murder back in the 1800s of course?”

Mink nodded, though Adam was pretty sure he
had no idea what she was talking about. His eager attention was
keeping her talking though, and for that Adam could kiss him.

“Well, the ghostly happenings started around
then.”

Adam couldn’t stop his mind from returning
to the terror of that shadow he’d seen in his room at the manor.
“What kind of ghostly happenings exactly?”

Bev’s eyes widened and her voice deepened,
whether conscious or not, she seemed to be settling firmly into a
“ghost stories around the campfire persona”. “Strange sounds.
Scratching mostly, but one of the people who lived there swore he
heard the sound of someone being hung, more than once. Shadows that
moved and took human shape, things like that.” She shook her head.
“You couldn’t pay me enough to live in that place.”

Adam frowned. That wasn’t exactly music to
his ears since he intended to try to sell the place once he
finished rehabbing it. “I’m sure that’s just peoples’ imaginations
getting the better of them.”

Bev held his gaze for a long minute and then
smiled. Adam barely refrained from frowning at the sight. “Yes. Of
course.” She patted his hand condescendingly.

“Oh Adam, that’s
my
kind of gun!”
Mink pointed to the case in the center of the room.

Bev joined him at the case, placing her hand
protectively on top. “Yes, that little derringer was one of the
items stolen from the ball that night.”

Adam peered down at the gun. It looked
exactly like the one Teddy Worth swore he’d put into a safety
deposit box. “That’s not a reproduction is it?”

Bev’s brown gaze grew shrewd. “Of course. We
don’t have enough security here to keep the real items. The gun is
real, but the jewels are fakes.”

Adam nodded. He didn’t know squat about
jewelry but that little gun sure looked like the one he’d seen.
Wandering around the Bilsworth wing, Adam discovered that he
enjoyed the pictures of the Manor in its heyday. He used his cell
phone camera to get pictures of the house for reference purposes.
Adam examined the painting with the gazebo and realized with a
start that the little structure did look remarkably like the one
he’d built in the exact same spot beside the lake. Even the two
swans gliding across the surface of the little lake looked like
Mike and Sue.

It gave him the serious creeps.

Adam examined the pictures of the people
who’d lived at Bilsworth Manor. Standing before one such picture,
he couldn’t help wondering at the sour expressions on their black
and white faces. Were all the people from that time really as
unhappy as they appeared, or was it considered ill-mannered to
smile in pictures?

“Those are the Bilsworths.” Bev Wilkins told
him. “Did you know they never actually ‘owned’ slaves?”

Adam’s eyes widened. “Really?”

“It’s true. Of course Bilsworth Manor was
built in 1824, well after slavery was outlawed, but there were
still illegal sales for years after that. Old Matthew never bought
a single slave. He gave work to freed slaves, paying them with
food, clothing, and a roof over their heads. Local accounts claim
that he even gave them a few pennies every Christmas as a bonus.”
She shook her head. “He was a good man.”

“I heard a little bit about what happened
with his son and that grafter from Europe.”

Bev nodded. “Tembler Jenks. He was a
hoister. All the troubles at Bilsworth started with him. When he
absquatulated with that jewelry…”

Mink squinted. “Wait…he what?”

Bev laughed. “I’ll show you.” She took them
to another glass case on the side wall, which held several sheets
of yellowed paper that looked like journal pages. “See?”

Adam bent closer and read the slightly
smudged print. The text on the obviously aged pages was written in
small, tight, very tidy handwriting.

“
The dead man was identified by
frolickers at the Bilsworth ball as Tembler Jenks, by all accounts
a right dandy from Europe, and a particular friend of Patrick
Bilsworth’s. When Mr. Jenks was found hanging from a rafter in one
of the freed slave cabins, cold as a wagon tire, Master Bilsworth
insisted Jenks was a hoister who was responsible for absquatulating
with several valuables, taken from attendees of the ball. Watchmen
conducted a thorough search of the manor but neglected to uncover
the stolen jewels.
”

Adam straightened, looking at Bev. “What’s
the source on this?”

“A woman who lived a few miles from the
Bilsworths. Her name was Maud Langston. She kept journals about
everything that happened of interest in this area. Her journals
have been very useful to historians and I believe her great, great,
great, nephew or some such is working on getting them
published.”

“She certainly had a way with words.” Mink
grinned.

Bev shared his smile. “She did. A spinster
and gunslinger, by all accounts Maud was quite independent and
outspoken for her era.”

Adam straightened and took Bev’s hand.
“Thank you so much, Ms. Wilkins. It was very interesting. I’m sure
I’ll be back.”

“Any time, Mr. Hoale. I’m glad to share
Ashville’s history.” She touched his arm as he turned to go,
handing him a card. “Give me a call the next time you want to come
in, Mr. Hoale. There’s a local artist who does paintings I think
you’d enjoy seeing.”

He pocketed the card, smiling. “I’ll do
that, thanks.”

Adam and Mink walked outside. Tied to a tree
in the shade beside the museum, Walter barked when he heard the
door open and kept up the barking as Adam stepped to the side,
holding the door for a man heading into the museum as they were
going out.

The new arrival grabbed the door and slid a
look over Adam.

“Hi.” Adam said.

The man nodded, fixing an intense, dark
brown gaze on them. He was huge. Probably over six and a half feet
tall, and bulky. The skin around his mouth was pocked and pristine
bandages covered the hand clasping the door. Something about the
man struck a chord with Adam.

The man inclined his head slightly and moved
on through the door, letting it swing shut behind him. Adam watched
him walk up to Bev Wilkins and saw her frown. The couple started to
argue.

Mink came up behind Adam, dropping his chin
on Adam’s shoulder. His voice whispered past Adam’s ear. “Must be
Mr. Bev.”

Adam frowned, something about the man really
bothering him. “Yeah, must be. And it appears there’s trouble in
paradise.”

CHAPTER
FIFTEEN

Dirk was sitting up in bed when Adam and
Mink arrived at the hospital. Maddy and Bud sat in chairs arranged
to one side of the bed. Bud’s wide, ruddy face was a few shades
paler than usual and his hazel gaze kept sliding over the angry
purple line around Dirk’s throat.

Adam felt his own heart stutter at the
sight. The bruises around Dirk’s throat hadn’t fully bloomed the
last time Adam saw him. Tears stung his eyes as he took in the
bandaged fingers lying on top of the thin blanket, his mind taking
him back to the picture of Dirk struggling to pull the rope from
his throat so he could breathe.

Maddy had been making nonsensical
conversation, trying to fill the dead air space caused by Bud’s
numb horror and Dirk’s inability to speak. She looked up when Adam
and Mink came through the door, her pretty eyes shiny with unshed
tears. She all but leapt to her feet when she saw them. “I’m gonna
go get you that ice cream from the cafeteria. She bent down and
kissed Dirk’s forehead and nearly ran toward Adam. She threw
herself into his arms and kissed his neck, sniffling. “Oh god,
Adam,” she whispered. He gave her a hard squeeze and she pulled
away, forcing a bright smile onto her pretty face. “I’ll be right
back.”

Mink, who was made up of much sterner stuff
than anyone ever gave him credit for, hurried across the room and
took the bull firmly by the horns. Leaning down he kissed Dirk full
on the lips. “You look like hell, darling, but don’t worry, slave
collars are very chic in certain circles. In fact, a few tattoos
and a couple of strategically placed piercings and we’ll be beating
gay bikers off you with a stick.” Mink winked at him. “Maybe you
could beat them in my direction.”

Dirk laughed, his hand going to his throat
as pain reminded him it wasn’t a good idea to do that. But the
smile remained and a bit of color returned to his ashen face as he
reached out and grasped Mink’s hand.

Adam walked over and stood on the opposite
side of the bed. Dirk turned to him, his sexy green gaze filled
with uncertainty. Adam reached out and touched Dirk’s arm, sliding
a finger over the bulge of his lover’s biceps. His emotions had him
too tied up to speak.

But Adam couldn’t bear the look of pain in
Dirk’s eyes. He leaned down to place a soft, lingering kiss on
Dirk’s lips. “I was so scared.” Dirk skimmed a finger over Adam’s
cheek, scraping away tears.

“I…” Dirk swallowed and it was obvious the
effort pained him.

“Don’t try to talk…”

“I love you, Ads.” It was a rough, broken
sound but it was the most beautiful thing Adam had ever heard.

“I love you too, Dirk.” He smiled. “We’ll
figure the rest of this out.”

Dirk nodded and his head dropped back to the
pillow. He was clearly exhausted.

Adam threw Mink and Bud a look and they
stood, saying quick goodbyes and promising to join Maddy in the
cafeteria. He slipped a tender touch over Dirk’s jawline. “You’re
tired. Get some rest now.”

Dirk’s hand snaked out and grabbed Adam’s
when he started to leave.

“Stay. Please?”

The fractured sound of Dirk’s sexy voice
just about doubled Adam over with pain. “Sure. I’ll be right here,
babe.” Adam climbed onto the bed with Dirk and snuggled close,
holding him until the other man fell asleep. The slow, even sound
of Dirk’s breathing as he drifted to sleep allowed Adam’s own
breathing to soften and slide back to normal. He realized he hadn’t
been able to breathe properly since the night before, when he’d
found Dirk hanging in that room.

He also realized that the manor had gone
from being a place bright with promise, to a place of terror and
bad memories. He no longer had the slightest desire to rehab the
old place. That thought made him sad. But it didn’t matter. Adam
wasn’t someone who gave up. He was stubborn and determined and,
when somebody pushed him he generally pushed back twice as
hard.

For whatever reason, someone was trying to
keep him from working on Bilsworth Manor. Someone wanted him to
give up and slink away like all the previous owners had done. If he
did, the asshole who’d tried to kill Dirk would win.

And that was never going to happen.

DS

When Adam got back to the manor an hour
later, he was surprised to see Teddy Worth’s green truck sitting in
the circle. He was even more surprised to see Worth sitting at the
table in the kitchen with Edgar. The two men were sipping bottles
of water watching Adam’s crew paint the cabinets. Adam’s fists
clenched when he spotted Teddy and he started forward, intending to
pummel the man until the red haze staining his vision faded away.
But CC’s words filtered through the rage and Adam stepped back,
taking a deep breath and striving for calm before entering the
kitchen.

The last thing he wanted to do was allow
Teddy Worth to walk away from his crimes because Adam couldn’t get
control of his temper.

The two men turned as Adam and Walter came
in. Walter ran right over to Edgar and greeted the elderly man with
a long, wet kiss on the arm. “Good morning, young man.” Edgar
swiped a shaky hand over Walter’s head. “You’re looking fit as a
fiddle this morning.”