Just Above a Whisper (31 page)

“Is he at the bank today?” Reese asked.

“No, but he will be soon. You know he’s the best bank manager this town has ever had.”

Reese didn’t know that, but neither did she argue.

“Well, I’m sure Mr. Kingsley will be happy about that. They only came to check on the bank and see how it was doing.”

“He didn’t do anything wrong!” Gerald stated emphatically, some agitation coming to the surface.

“Gerald, I never said he did.”

The young man felt foolish then. Last time he left, he had left in anger, and he didn’t want to do that again, but he didn’t know any other way out of the conversation.

As it was, Reese didn’t know what to think. She watched Gerald move off, not sure what had just happened. The only thing she was certain of at the moment was that she needed to stay here at the house until the bank closed and tell the men about Gerald’s announcement.

The men were in deep conversation as they walked home. Neither of them noticed Reese standing at the parlor window watching them come up the walk, but when they opened the door, she was standing in the hall waiting for them.

“I’m sorry to be here so late,” Reese began, feeling she needed to apologize. “But something happened today with Gerald Jenness, and I thought I should tell you.”

“That’s fine.” Conner was the one to speak up. “Go ahead.”

“He said his father was in town, but he wasn’t at the bank. I asked if he was all right, and Gerald said yes. I then said something that made Gerald think I was accusing his father, and he became very upset. He left in a huff.”

“Did he say where his father is now?” Troy asked.

“No, but he insisted that his father was the best bank manger Tucker Mills has ever had, and he would be back in the bank soon.”

“Thank you, Reese,” Troy said, thinking about the fact that Mrs. Jenness was under the impression that her son knew nothing of his father’s visit. “We appreciate your staying to tell us.”

Reese nodded and started toward the kitchen, which led to the stairway she used to come and go.

“Did you have more work you have to do, Reese?” Conner stepped close enough to ask.

“No, I was just leaving.”

“Do you have something to collect at the side door?”

“No.”

Conner used a thumb to point behind him. “Use the front door.”

Reese hesitated.

“Use it all the time,” he pressed further. “Use it every time you come and go.”

“Why?” she finally managed to ask.

“Because I want you to.”

Reese looked stubborn. She just didn’t know if this was the right thing.

“I’ll make a deal with you,” Conner watched her carefully as he spoke. “You tell me what the
V
stands for, and you can use any door you like.”

Reese’s chin went instantly into the air. She marched to the front door, glanced back long enough to find both men smiling, and sailed outside.

Conner laughed, looking at the door for several moments. When he glanced over at Troy, that man had an odd look on his face.

“I don’t want to know what you’re thinking, do I?” the younger man asked.

“Probably not,” Troy smiled before admitting. Conner let the matter drop so both men could enjoy their tea.

“Hey, Troy,” Conner said, opening that man’s door after they both turned in. “Are you awake?”

“Yeah.”

Troy listened as Conner entered the room.

“Something just occurred to me.”

“About what?”

“Jenness. What if we’re not dealing with a sane man? What if the things his wife described are pointing to the fact that he’s no longer in his right mind, if he ever was?”

“What made you think along that line? I mean, you’ve never even met the man.”

“Believe it or not, the layout of the alcove. We’re not finding anything amiss in the files. His business dealings were completely legal, but the way he had those bookshelves arranged makes me think of someone very insecure. Someone who wants privacy but not because he’s up to something.

“That and the fact that he left the bank in a panic and has not even tried to reclaim his job, not to mention return to his family. It just makes sense to me that something might have set him off that day, something his mind cannot handle.”

“You have a very interesting point. I hadn’t thought about it from that view because he seemed so normal.”

“But not when he left,” Conner reminded him. “What you described to me was a man on the edge, who’d just been pushed.”

“But there was no evidence of that beforehand,” Troy thought out loud, “which makes your theory completely believable.”

Conner didn’t say anything. For a moment, both men silently worked the details through their minds.

“I’ll let you sleep,” Conner said around a yawn.

“I’m going to need it,” Troy agreed, thinking that Conner’s prognosis was entirely plausible but unsettling nonetheless.

Reese had shopping to do. Kitchen supplies in the big house were running a bit low, so she headed out first thing Thursday morning. She started at Shephard Store, a list in hand, along with a large basket.

Her mind was completely on the list, so much so in fact that when Mr. Somer suddenly appeared in front of her ready to talk about his latest ailment, Reese had to force her mind to the moment.

“It’s my back today,” he revealed, and Reese did her best to listen. “Acted up first thing this morning, right out of bed. I would have blamed it on the eggs my wife made, but it happened before then.”

“Eggs bother your back?” Reese had to ask; she’d not heard this.

“It can happen,” he said before opening his mouth to add more. Reese bent a little, trying to hear him, when she realized that his eyes looked a little surprised.

“Mr. Somer?” Reese called, but he only stared at her.

“What is it, Reese?” Doyle had heard her tone and was coming their way.

“Mr. Somer?” Reese tried again, but by now he was beginning to fall.

Doyle caught the smaller man as he began to crumple and laid him gently on the floor. Reese bent over him, feeling his neck for a pulse, the way she’d seen Doc do it, her own pulse pounding with fear.

“Go for Doc!” Doyle shouted to a customer, and Reese tried talking to the little man, whom no one ever believed to be truly ill.

“Mr. Somer, can you wake up? Can you hear me? It’s Reese. You were telling me about your back. Mr. Somer, wake up now.”

Reese thought she felt a pulse, so she whipped her apron off and balled it up to go under his head. He looked a little more normal then, but his color was very bad, and Reese begged God to send Doc in a hurry.

It felt like forever. Doc did not push Reese aside but knelt opposite her and began to check on the patient.

“What happened?” he asked while he worked, and Reese told him what she’d seen.

“What’s wrong with him, Doc?” Doyle bent over the three of them and asked.

“His heart, I think. I can’t make him comfortable on this floor, Doyle. We need to get him home.”

“I’ll get the wagon.”

It never once occurred to Reese to do anything but accompany Mr. Somer and the doctor to the Somers’ home. She sat in the back of the wagon, her apron still in use, and went to the door to warn Mrs. Somer when they arrived.

The news shook that lady, but she kept her head and swiftly prepared the bed that was in the small room off their kitchen. Doc MacKay and Opal Berglund’s oldest son, Harry, who had been in the store, carried him from the wagon directly to the bed.

Reese made her way to the kitchen, where she could see that Mrs. Somer had been readying wax for candles. Reese put water on for tea and kept out of the way. Beyond that she prayed, hoping that if she was called on to do more, she would know what to do and when.

It was unusual for the men to arrive home for dinner and not have aromas wafting through the house the moment they stepped in the front door. Nevertheless, they didn’t jump to conclusions but waited until they were in the dining room and then the kitchen before facing facts: Reese had not made dinner. A pie sat on the table, one they were sure was for dinner, but nothing else was ready.

“Will we get in trouble if we eat the pie?” Conner asked, always starved by noon.

“I don’t think so,” Troy reasoned, already looking for plates and forks. “I’m sure she meant it for dinner.”

Conner’s piece was gone with amazing speed, but he didn’t go for another one. He grabbed a slice of bread from the loaf they’d had for breakfast, not even bothering with the butter.

“I’m going to search the house and then head through town,” Conner mumbled around a mouthful of bread.

“For Reese?”

“Yes. Stay here in case she comes back.”

Troy helped him search the house but then did as Conner asked. He planted himself back in the kitchen and tried to make a meal from what he could find.