The Final Tap (21 page)

thirty-six

I headed toward the
village at a fast trot. A power walker didn't have anything on me. I didn't run because I didn't want to attract visitors' attention to the possibility that something might be amiss on the Farm. In truth, I didn't know how my erratic walking was any less obvious than running.

Chase came up alongside of me. “What's wrong?”

“Where have you been?” I snapped.

“Hello to you too.”

“I'm sorry,” I said, not breaking my stride. “Benji radioed me. Something's wrong at the village. She asked me to go there right away. It seems to be one crisis after another around here.”

“What happened?”

I increased my pace. “She didn't say. She broke radio contact.”

We crossed Maple Grove Lane. As soon I reached the other side, I broke into a run.

Chase kept pace. He was over a head taller than me, so my
flat-
out
run was only a light jog for him.

The green came into view, but I couldn't see anything out of place, and there was no sign of Benji either.

“Did she say where she would be?” Chase asked.

The village side of the Farm wasn't that big, but it could take a lot of time to search all the buildings for Benji.

I ripped the radio from my belt. “Benji, come in. Where are you? Over.”

There was a pause. I was about to repeat my question when the radio crackled to life. “I'm in the barn. It's Ba—I mean Jason.”

I sprinted in the direction of the barn. This time, Chase had to keep up with me.

I ran to the barn door, which was wide open. “Benji!” I could hear Chase behind me but I didn't turn around. “Benji!”

“We're in here!” She stepped out from one of the stalls.

I hurried over to Scarlett's horse stall and found Jason sitting on the floor holding a bloody rag to his head.

“What happened?”

Jason didn't answer.

I looked at Benji. “How did you find him?” I asked.

Benji gripped her radio. “I was just walking the grounds to make sure none of the visitors had wandered over here because we're closing. I made my loop and was about to leave when Jason stumbled out of the woods with his head bleeding.”

Chase walked over to Jason. “Let me take a look.”

Jason shrunk back and pressed the piece of cloth down on his head.

“I'm an EMT, remember?” Chase said, in a calm even voice that I knew he'd mastered on the job.

Jason relaxed just a little.

Chase knelt in front of him and opened his medical bag. He removed a pair of latex gloves.

“Those aren't historically accurate for a Civil War medic,” Benji said.

Chase laughed. “I'll be sure to hide them from the visitors.”

“You have real medical supplies in there?” I asked.

“You never know if you'll need them, and I learned at the reenactment last summer that reenactors hurt themselves all the time. It's best to be prepared.” Chase reached for the cloth that Jason held so tightly to his head. Finally, Jason relented and let Chase remove the rag. It was saturated with blood. The wound was gruesome, but only a few beads of fresh blood had appeared when Chase removed the cloth. It appeared that the worst of the bleeding had stopped.

As Chase cleaned the wound, I began to pace. “Jason, you have to tell me what happened. What were you doing in the woods?”

“Following someone,” he said barely over a whisper.

I froze. Benji and I stared at him. The idea of reclusive Jason once again voluntarily running after another person was baffling. Chase was unfazed by the announcement and dabbed at Jason's cut with antiseptic. With each dab, the cut was beginning to look less and less gruesome.

“You followed someone?” Benji asked.

Jason licked his lips. “After you left my trailer earlier, Kelsey, I saw someone moving through the woods. I thought it was the Hooper boys again. I know they must be angry that the police questioned them.”

I stared at him. I hadn't realized he knew what was going on around the Farm.

Jason's Adam's apple bobbed up and down. “I wanted to make sure they weren't making any trouble, so I followed who I thought was them.”

Benji wrinkled her nose.

“It wasn't them?” I asked.

He shook his head. “No, and whoever it was wasn't coming to the village. He was just moving through the trees toward Maple Grove Lane. I saw him cross the road out of view of anyone at the Farm. It was like he crossed there for that reason. He was headed into the park.”

“Wow, B—Jason, you're downright chatty,” Benji mused.

I shot her a look to be quiet. I didn't want Jason to freeze up again.

Chase placed a piece of gauze on Jason's forehead and held it there as he tore off a piece of cloth tape
one-handed
.

“Why did you follow him?” I asked.

“I thought the person wanted to cause trouble. I know Shepley is mad about me living here, and
h-he
told me he'd tell the Cherry Foundation board and they'd make me move. When I saw you and those two board members coming out of my trailer I knew it was true. I thought if I could protect the Farm, I would prove my worth.”

“Oh, Jason,” I said.

“How did you get hurt?” Benji asked.

Jason frowned. “After the guy left the Farm grounds, I headed back to the barn through the woods.” His face flushed. “I tripped over a tree root and fell. I knocked my head on a rock.”

“You were lucky that you weren't knocked out cold,” Chase said as he smoothed the last piece of tape onto Jason's wound and started packing up his kit. “That cut wasn't so bad. It doesn't even need stitches. You might have a nice scar over your right eye, but it's a battle scar.” He winked at Jason. “Girls like battle scars.”

Benji snorted, and I had to agree.

“Thank you,” Jason murmured.

Benji tapped her finger to her cheek. “Jason, what did this man look like? Did you recognize him?”

Jason tentatively touched the bandage over his eyebrow. “I've seen him this week at the Farm on the edge of the red maple grove, but I'm not sure who he is.”

“What did he look like?” I repeated Benji's question.

“He was short, bald, and wore glasses.”

“Robert Stroud?” I asked. “He taught the tree tapping class yesterday.”

Jason nodded and then winced as if it pained him. “I guess. I first saw him the day before, on Thursday.”

Chase and I shared a look.

“You saw him the day Dr. Beeson was murdered?” Benji yelped.

thirty-seven

Chase, Benji, and I
headed back to the visitor center. Jason remained at the barn. Chase said that there was no need for him to go to the hospital.

Chase and Benji increased their pace to keep up with me. “Kelsey, what are you going to do?” Benji asked.

“I have to talk to Chief Duffy. He needs to talk to Stroud.”

She ran in front of me and started walking backward. “Don't you think you should talk to Detective Brandon? It's her case.”

I shook my head. “She's already made up her mind who the killer is.”

“Buckley still could be,” Chase said. “The Hooper boys saw him in the woods, and he even admitted to being there and witnessing the start of Beeson's heart attack. He could have easily taken the drill and finished him off.”

I grimaced as the visitor center came into view. All the
festival-goers
were gone by this point, and the Civil War reenactors were making their way to the exit while my employees walked the grounds picking up the litter left behind. John from the sugarhouse had unharnessed Scarlett and Rhett from the wagon and led them into the pasture for some peace and quiet.

“I know that,” I said. “But it doesn't change the fact that Robert Stroud was on Farm land when the murder happened. He never told us that. There has to be a reason.”

“Maybe he just didn't want to get involved,” Benji said.

I ignored Benji's last comment and marched to the visitor center. Judy stood just outside the door, waving to the reenactors as they left, reminding me of Civil War photographs I'd seen of Southern ladies waving to bedraggled soldiers as they tramped by in a line.

“Judy, have you seen the chief ?”

“Chief Duffy?” She dropped her hand in
mid-wave
.

I nodded.

“He left about a half hour ago. He said duty called him to leave early. He had to get to the police station. It seems that Detective Brandon found the person who killed the maple sugar professor.”

“I know.” I frowned. “Is Gavin around?” I thought I might ask Gavin what he knew about Stroud before I took this much further. Maybe I was wrong.

“He and a girl—I suppose it was his girlfriend by the way she was hanging on him, not that I've ever seen her before. Anyway, they left not long after the chief. Gavin said they were headed to the sugarhouse in the park. They took off across the pasture toward the red maples.” She pointed in the direction Dr. Beeson had walked on the day he died.

A shiver ran down my spine. It was too similar to what had happened with Beeson. Just like before, Judy was telling me that someone had wandered off toward the red maples.

“I have to go after them,” I said.

“But why?” Benji asked. She and Chase were behind me now and must have heard at least most of what Judy had said.

“Stroud could still be in the woods,” I told her. “Something is off about his story. I can't rest until I know that Gavin and Corrie are okay.”

“Stroud is a shrimp.” Was Benji still trying to talk me out of it? “What could he possibly do to Gavin? Gavin is twice his size.”

“If he stabbed Dr. Beeson, there's no telling.”

Judy gasped. “But I thought the police already arrested the murderer.”

“They think they did,” I said. “I'm not nearly as certain. I may be wrong, but …”

“You're right,” Chase said. “If you really think something is off with Stroud, we have to find those kids. If you're going, I'm going with you.”

“Me too,” Benji agreed. “Even though I think this is a waste of time.”

I shook my head. “Benji, you stay here and call the police. Tell them everything Jason told us and that Stroud is in the woods with Corrie and Gavin. Tell them to meet us at the sugarhouse in the park.”

With that, I headed for the pasture, just as I had two days before. Had it really only been two days? So much had happened in a short amount of time. There was Beeson's murder, the Hoopers' vandalism, Henry's threat, and finally Krissie's wedding plans. It was almost too much to take.

Chase squeezed my hand briefly after we climbed over the fence. “They'll be fine. We're worrying for no reason. Really.”

“I hope you're right.” But even as I said it, I knew that he wasn't.

We ran the half mile between the edge of the Farm grounds and the park's sugarhouse. Neither of us said a word, even when we passed the place where Beeson had been attacked. The crime scene tape tied around the trees to mark the spot looked as if it had been chewed on. I wondered if one of the squirrels who'd been wreaking havoc on Beeson's sugaring tubes was responsible.

When the sugarhouse came into view, the heady scent of maple sugar filled the air. Gavin must have been in the middle of production. The tubing was still attached to all of the trees, and I felt like I'd brought both Chase and myself on a fool's errand.

I slowed my pace. Chase was about ten paces behind me, looking at the tubing. “Everything seems to be—”

Thwack! A sickening sound interrupted Chase in midsentence. I spun around to see him on his knees, holding his forehead. He crawled to the closest tree and leaned on it. He closed his eyes. I thought he was passing out.

“Chase!” I screeched. I knelt on the damp earth in front of him. There was a large red welt forming in the middle of his forehead. “Chase! Wake up!”

My attention was so focused on Chase that I didn't see Corrie Beeson step out of the trees holding a shovel in her hands.

“He's out cold. You should be more worried about yourself,” Corrie said, adjusting her shovel. “Get up!” she ordered.

I didn't move.

“Get up or I'll hit him again. This time I'll make it count.” She glared at me.

Slowly, I stood. “Corrie, where's Gavin? Where's Robert Stroud?”

“Let's chat about it in the sugarhouse.”

I looked at the tiny building with the smoke billowing out. “I don't think so.”

She raised the shovel over Chase.

I waved my hands. “Okay! Okay!”

Corrie smiled and gestured to the sugarhouse. “Why don't we go in and check on our syrup?”

I looked around for Stroud and Gavin, but I didn't see them. It was possible they'd never been there at all.

“Go inside.” She poked me with the shovel's blade, just enough that I knew she meant business.

There was no way I was going into the sugarhouse with Corrie.

When I didn't move, she raised the shovel over Chase's head again.

“Okay,” I snapped. “Just don't hurt him.”

Guilt washed over me. I'd been an idiot to run to this sugarhouse with Chase instead of waiting for the police. I knew they'd be here any minute, though. Benji would have called them by now. I just had to stall for time.

I walked the few feet to the sugarhouse. I stepped into the dimly lit building and blinked. “Where's Gavin?”

She sniffed.

“Corrie, where's Gavin? Is he okay?”

She pointed to a heap in the corner behind the table. Gavin lay there, unconscious. “I didn't want to hit him. I love him, but he gave me no choice.”

I took a step toward him.

She pointed the shovel at me. “Don't move.”

I inched back. I prayed that Gavin was still breathing. “Where's Stroud?” I asked in the calmest voice I could muster.

“You mean the person who was supposed to be blamed for my father's death?” she asked.

My eyes widened. “What do you mean?

“Stroud was the one who was supposed to get the blame, but everyone ignored him. Even you ignored him. He was the perfect suspect. I don't know why you couldn't see that.”

“Buckley was arrested, not Stroud,” I said.

“Yes.” She nodded. “And that's fine with me too, especially since everyone seems to be happy about it. But you said you think the police arrested the wrong person. That's when I knew this would never be over, not as long as you kept asking questions. I need this to end.”

I swallowed.

There was a
dog-eared
copy of
Maple Sugar and the Civil War
on a rickety wooden table in the corner of the room. The book had only been out a month or two, and I was surprised to see a new book in such poor condition.

“I see you have your father's book,” I said, trying to stall.

“His book?” She snorted. “He didn't research that book. Robert Stroud did. Dad stole his notes, and I helped him. It's just another example of what I did for my father to prove I was worthy to be his daughter, but did he care? No. He never cared about me.”

A chill ran down my spine, as it all made sense. Stroud had tensed up every time the book was mentioned because it was
his book
. He knew that Beeson had stolen his notes.

Something Corrie's stepmother had said came back to me—something about Corrie just wanting her father's approval and never getting it. I stared at the angry girl, who wasn't more than
twenty-four
years old. She had her whole life ahead of her. What life would it be now?

“And that's why you killed your father, isn't it?” I asked. “Because he wouldn't say he was proud of you.”

“You don't know what you're talking about.” She shook the shovel at me and I jumped back.

“Where's Stroud now?” I asked, almost afraid to hear the answer. She'd already hit Gavin and Chase over the head. Who knew what she'd done to Stroud?

“He was here when Gavin and I arrived. He was checking on the maple sugar. He left almost immediately.”

I gave a sigh of relief that at least one person had gotten away from the sugarhouse without meeting the business end of Corrie's shovel.

“Buckley was there when your father had the heart attack. Were you two in this together?” I asked.

“Buckley was a coward. He had an argument with my father in the woods and upset the overweight monster so much that Dad keeled over from a heart attack. Buckley fled.” Corrie snorted. “He's thought all this time that he was responsible for Dad's death. Maybe he is, in a way.”

“Why were you even there?” I asked.

“Because I was helping him with the sugaring in the park. I knew he'd be busy getting ready for the tree tapping class, so I offered to check our trees. I was heading to the Farm to tell him I'd finished when I saw him arguing with Buckley. After Buckley left, I went to Dad and tried to help him. He pushed me away and told me I was making his chest pain worse. He said I made everything worse.”

She was crying now. Large tears rolled down her cheeks. “Even when the man was dying, he criticized me and put me down. By taking his side in that argument over the sugarhouse, I'd given up Gavin, who I loved and who loved me, for my father, who didn't care for me at all. I saw the drill on the ground and picked it up. I don't know what happened. Something in me snapped. Every horrible thing my father ever said to me rang in my head in a rush. The next thing I knew, I was standing over him and the drill was sticking out of his chest with my hand on the handle.”

My stomach clenched. “Why didn't you just run away when you realized what you'd done? Why didn't you leave New Hartford?”

“I couldn't leave Gavin. I love him.”

I glanced over at Gavin again. “But you hit him.”

“He figured out what happened,” Corrie said mournfully. “I couldn't have him telling the police.”

“Then go now. I'll take care of Gavin. Just go.” I stepped away from the doorway to give her a clean getaway.

She stared at Gavin, who didn't stir.

“It's too late for that. The police will always be looking for me.” She smacked the handle of the shovel against her hand. “I can't let you go. You know that. You know what I did.”

“You think I'm the only one?” I thought quickly. “Chase Wyatt is outside. He's the police chief's nephew, and the police are on their way. My assistant already called them.”

“You're lying.”

Before I could answer, I heard noise from outside. “Kelsey!” someone called.

“See, they're already here,” I said.

“Then I'll have to make this quick.” Corrie took a step toward me with determination in her eyes. I didn't have much time.

The handle of the sugaring paddle stuck out of the boiling trough of sap.

I grabbed it, boiling drops of maple sugar falling onto the floor and onto my hand. Ignoring the burning, I whacked Corrie in the shoulder with the blade of the paddle in one sweeping motion. She cried out and dropped the shovel.

She didn't fall, so I whacked her again, this time on the other side. As she fell to the concrete floor, she reached out and grabbed the spigot on the maple sugar basin. A boiling hot stream of maple syrup poured onto her hands. Corrie screamed as it spilled onto the floor.

I jumped over her and turned off the spigot. My boots stuck to the floor and made a sickening sticky sound when I tried to lift them.

“Corrie?” I asked.

The girl moaned and cradled her hands. I didn't know how badly she was burned, but I had to get her some relief.

I put my hands under her armpits and
half-lifted
,
half-dragged
her through the open door of the sugarhouse.

Much of the snow in the woods had melted over the last two days, but there was still plenty in the places shaded by the trees. I dragged Corrie to a snowy patch and dropped her there. Then I made a snow pack and placed it on her hands, which were already red and blistering. She moaned.

Detective Brandon, Officer Sonders, and Benji came crashing through the woods just as I was packing more snow on Corrie's hands.

“Step back, Ms. Cambridge,” the detective said.

I did as I was told. “Gavin is in the sugarhouse. She hit him over the head.”