A Thousand Generations Read online




  A Thousand

  Generations

  Mystery

  and the Minister’s Wife

  Through the Fire

  A State of Grace

  Beauty Shop Tales

  A Test of Faith

  The Best Is Yet to Be

  Angels Undercover

  Into the Wilderness

  Where There’s a Will

  Dog Days

  The Missing Ingredient

  Open Arms

  A Token of Truth

  Who’s That Girl?

  For the Least of These

  A Matter of Trust

  Funny Money

  To Have and to Hold

  How the Heart Runs

  A Thousand Generations

  Home to Briar Mountain

  Flight of the Sparrows

  A Firm Foundation

  Off the Record

  A Distant Memory

  Tea and Sympathy

  The Master’s Hand

  Strangers in Their Midst

  Mystery and the Minister’s Wife is a registered trademark of Guideposts.

  Copyright © 2009 by Guideposts. All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the written permission of the publisher. Inquiries should be addressed to the Rights & Permissions Department, Guideposts, 110 William Street, New York, New York 10038.

  The characters and events in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to actual persons or occurrences is coincidental.

  All Scripture quotations, unless otherwise noted, are taken from The Holy Bible, New International Version. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984 International Bible Society. Used by permission of Zondervan Bible Publishers.

  Guideposts.org

  (800) 932-2145

  Guideposts Books & Inspirational Media

  Cover design by Dugan Design Group

  Cover illustration by Dan Brown

  Interior design by Cris Kossow

  Typeset by Nancy Tardi

  Printed in the United States of America

  For Haley Rose.

  Chapter One

  Mid-May sunlight filtered through the trees in the Hanlons’ backyard, filling the small ranch-style house with dappled evening warmth as Kate poured two cups of tea. She had just finished washing up the supper dishes and was about to pull freshly baked popovers from the oven.

  Like a bloodhound, her husband, Paul, came sniffing out of his office, in search of the delicious-smelling dessert.

  “I’ll have to run twice as far tomorrow to work this off,” he said, chuckling as he bent to kiss her on the temple.

  Kate shook her head. “Enjoy it while you can,” she said. “Tomorrow we’re both back to the healthy stuff.” Kate believed in eating right, but she also felt a treat once in a while was in order.

  He pulled out a chair at the dining table, sat down, then lifted the cup of tea in front of him. Kate took the seat across from him and smiled at his grinning face as he reached for a popover and split it open to butter it. The inside was mostly hollow, with wisps of steam rising from its depths.

  “I love your baking, Katie.”

  The couple had been married for almost thirty years, and still they enjoyed each other’s company. Paul’s eyes closed in obvious enjoyment as he took his first bite.

  “Mmm,” he murmured.

  “It doesn’t take a lot to please you,” Kate teased with a quirked eyebrow.

  “Knock, knock,” a voice interrupted from the front door, pulling them from their conversation. It sounded like Eli Weston, an antiques dealer in the small town of Copper Mill, where the Hanlons lived. Eli was a good friend and a member of Faith Briar Church, where Paul was pastor.

  “Come on in, Eli,” Paul called as he rose to meet him in the entry.

  The screen door squeaked, and Kate could hear the sound of something heavy bumping against the slate entry.

  “You are not going to believe this!” Eli spoke rapidly, his voice rising in excitement. Kate followed behind Paul, her curiosity piqued.

  Eli was tugging a wooden dummy inside the door. Adorned in a faded red dress, the female figure looked to be around five feet tall and was gray with age and dirty looking.

  “Is that heavy?” Paul asked, moving to help.

  Eli had a big grin on his dirt-smudged face as he set the dummy upright in the middle of the living room and stood back to admire it.

  “It’s quite a find, isn’t it?” He placed his hands on his hips and nodded in satisfaction, though he was huffing slightly from the exertion of carrying the heavy object. He was wearing khaki shorts and a lightweight T-shirt with the word Columbia embroidered on the chest. He also sported white athletic socks and hiking boots.

  Eli was thirty-four years old, a husky man with a shock of blond hair and brown eyes that were magnified by tortoise-shell glasses. He turned to Kate with his shy smile.

  “What do you think?” he asked as he wiped sweat from his brow.

  “It’s amazing, Eli,” Kate said. “What is it?”

  “What is it?” He sounded incredulous. “It’s a mannequin!”

  “That’s interesting,” Paul said with a furrowed brow.

  “I found it when I was out hiking with my buddies today!”

  Kate moved closer to the dummy. Carved in an art-deco sensibility, with a thin, almost-pointed nose, smooth cheeks, and a high brow, the mannequin was shorter than Kate. Its head was bald, and Kate could see faint paint marks where pencil-thin eyebrows once had been.

  “It’s well done.” She walked to its other side, where Paul was studying it, his finger to his chin.

  “It’s a rare find,” Eli said to Paul, nodding as he spoke, the excitement still strong in his voice. His expression reminded Kate of a child at Christmas. “From its design, I’m guessing it was from the late twenties, early thirties.”

  “Where did you say you found it?” Kate asked.

  “In an old abandoned copper mine. Some friends and I were out exploring way up off Smoky Mountain Road. I have a couple hundred acres down that way that I inherited from my grandfather. It’s really hilly terrain, a great day’s workout. Well, we were about to turn around for the day when we ran across the mine. The guys were bushed, so I went in alone, and there she was, deep inside the main tunnel, just standing there like she was in a store window.” He shook his head and rested a hand on the mannequin’s shoulder.

  Kate had to agree, it was an interesting piece. But Eli’s enthusiasm was even more interesting. It was rare to find someone so passionate about their line of work.

  “I really should get you and Phillip together,” she said.

  “Phillip?” Eli raised an eyebrow.

  “He’s an old friend from San Antonio who just moved to town,” Kate said. “He loves antiques like you do, so y’all have a lot in common. Actually, he’s opening an antiques store in town. I think he signed a lease a few weeks ago on the storefront just down the street from yours.”

  “Really?” Eli said. Kate noticed the lines on his forehead crinkle into a frown. “I guess I’d heard a rumor that someone was opening a store, but I’m not one to listen to rumors...I’m looking forward to meeting him.” His expression changed, replaced with a smile.

  Kate paused for a moment, unsure of what to make of his reaction. But when he turned back to examining the find, she decided that she was imagining things.

  She shifted her attention to the mannequin. Its flaming red dress was in flapper style, tattered but nonetheless recognizable. In its day, the rows of beaded fringe would have swayed in shimmering waves.

  �
��I don’t want to offend you or anything, Eli,” Paul said as he scratched his head and glanced at Kate, “but why lug it all the way here just to show us?”

  “Ah, that’s the thing! This mannequin is yours. She belonged to someone in your family. Look at the bottom.” Eli grabbed the mannequin by the waist, turned it on its side, and pointed to the right foot.

  Paul and Kate exchanged glances, then both moved to the opposite end of the mannequin and gazed at the dirt-encrusted foot. Eli had obviously wiped at it, because one spot on the foot looked newly cleaned. And there etched in fine, delicate letters were the words “Hanlon’s Boutique.”

  “Hanlon’s Boutique?” Kate said, lifting her gaze to her husband’s surprised face. Paul was originally from a town that was an hour away, and his grandparents had lived in Copper Mill for a few years in the early part of the century—but to see a tangible part of their business...It sent a chill of excitement up her back. They were holding history in their hands.

  “Wow,” Paul uttered, his eyes wide in amazement. “This mannequin was from my grandfather’s store in Copper Mill?”

  Eli’s grin broadened as he returned the mannequin to an upright position. “This is so awesome,” he said. “What was his name, your grandfather?”

  “Horace,” Paul said reflectively. “He died before I was born, but I heard stories about him...” His words dropped away, then he added, “Grandma always said he was a no-nonsense kind of guy, didn’t talk much, but he was very likable and generous. He always had candy in his pocket, and he would read the encyclopedia every night. He only got through the eighth grade, but he was determined to keep learning.” Paul touched the mannequin again, shaking his head. “Grandpa Horace’s mannequin...”

  “Where was the boutique?” Eli asked.

  “Somewhere downtown. There were so many stores on Smith Street in those days, and it closed before I was around. Since I grew up an hour away I never really knew much about the place.”

  “What I want to know,” Kate said, looking from Paul to Eli, “is how did this mannequin end up in a copper mine on your land? Doesn’t that seem like a really weird place for someone to dump it?”

  Eli shrugged. “I was hoping you’d know.”

  Paul shook his head. “It is odd, isn’t it?”

  Kate moved to study the arms of the creature. Then she noticed a hole at the top of the shoulder. “What’s this?” she said to Eli.

  “Beats me,” he admitted.

  Paul squinted as he gazed at it too.

  The hole went through the wood at an angle. Kate tried to stick a finger into the opening, but it was too small, so instead she walked to the kitchen, pulled out a bamboo skewer from a drawer and pushed it inside. The hole measured a good six inches deep.

  “It almost looks like...a bullet hole,” Kate began.

  Paul’s brow furrowed. “But why would someone shoot a mannequin?”

  Kate had to admit the idea was ridiculous. She shook her head. Her mind was playing tricks on her—no doubt a symptom of researching too many mysteries.

  A bullet hole. Still the thought pressed in, and with it a deep sense of curiosity. “Do you think I could have someone look at it?” she asked Eli.

  “You mean like a ballistics expert?” he said, obviously surprised.

  “If you don’t want me to—” she began to backpedal, but Eli stopped her.

  “No, that would be fine,” he said. “It’s your mannequin. You can do with it as you like.”

  “You found it, Eli,” Paul said. “It’s as much yours as ours. Besides, you could put it in your store.”

  “Really?” Eli said, his eyes lighting. “It would be a great eye catcher for my window.” Then he turned back to Kate. “If you want to hire someone to check out that hole that’s cool. I’d like to find out too.”

  Just then something caught her eye. “What’s this?” Kate lifted her gaze to Eli and pointed to a fine line on the back of one leg. It looked almost like a seam on an old-fashioned pair of stockings.

  Eli moved alongside her, and she noticed that the other leg had a similar line.

  Paul remained silent, though he too moved to examine the back of the legs. Kate was running her finger along the left leg when she felt something in the grain, causing her to pause.

  Her brow furrowed. “Huh,” she said.

  “What is it?” Paul asked.

  There was a slight groove with a lip of metal about an inch long just below the back of the knee.

  “What do you think that is?” Kate asked.

  Paul studied it closely. “It looks like a latch.” Carefully he tugged on it. It made a snapping sound as it opened. Then, after another gentle tug from Paul, the leg swung apart. What fell from inside the mannequin’s leg left Kate truly dumbstruck. Cash. Lots of cash. Bundles of money fitted in the contours of the wooden facade.

  “What in the world?” Kate said.

  “I had no idea,” Eli confessed, his expression confused. “I just thought it was a cool mannequin.”

  Paul was already examining the other leg. Within seconds he had it opened, and more bundles of cash fell onto the floor.

  As Kate looked from the wooden lady with the hidden cache to her husband to Eli, one thought flashed through her mind: why would Grandpa Horace have hidden the fortune in the mannequin and stashed it in a copper mine? Had someone else put it there? And if Horace had hidden it, who exactly was he hiding the money from in the first place?

  Chapter Two

  Let’s lay her down,” Kate suggested to Paul and Eli.

  Kate returned to the kitchen to clear off their plates and lay an old tablecloth down so the mannequin wouldn’t scratch the oak table. Then the men carried the mannequin to the dining table and laid it down like a patient in a hospital emergency room.

  Kate and Paul slid the dress off and examined the mannequin’s thin torso. It too had a latch and hinges, and it too was filled with money, as was the face. Kate lifted disbelieving eyes to the men beside her, and Eli, also clearly stunned, ran a hand through his thick blond hair.

  They searched for additional latches for a few more minutes but found none. Save for the arms, each section of the mannequin was a secret compartment filled with money.

  “Why would your grandpa have put money in a mannequin?” Eli asked Paul as he placed a stack of the older style twenty-dollar bills in a pile of the same denomination.

  “I have no idea,” Paul said, shaking his head.

  Kate pulled a magnifying glass from the junk drawer and began examining several of the bills she’d laid alongside the mannequin.

  The currency was indeed old, dated from the 1890s to the 1930s, and because it had been secure in its container, it was still in relatively good condition. There were bundles of ones, fives, tens, twenties, fifties, and even one-hundred and rare two-dollar bills.

  “What would bills of this age be worth to a collector?” Kate raised her head to ask Eli.

  “A lot,” he said, his gaze intent on a rare one-dollar bill with a black eagle on its front instead of President Washington. He picked up the note.

  “What are you going to do with all of this?” Paul asked.

  “Do you think we should alert the authorities about it?” Eli interjected. “Considering that we have no inkling where it came from?”

  “Probably not a bad idea,” Paul agreed, to which Kate nodded.

  “Do you think it’s too late to call Skip?” Kate asked.

  Eli looked at his watch as if just realizing the time. “Oh, I need to get home. I have plans for tonight, and I still need a shower. Do you mind if I leave her here? I’ll pick her up after work tomorrow, unless the deputy thinks she needs to be examined. I can at least put her in the window at the store as a novelty, right?” He winked, then added, “Do you think that cash will be safe here until tomorrow?”

  “It’ll be okay,” Kate assured. “And I’ll let you know what Skip says.”

  Paul walked Eli to the door and said farewell.
>
  Kate refocused her attention on the mannequin, closing the lid on the face and chest and securing the latches. The dummy truly was a work of art, with fine lines and a strong countenance.

  Kate looked over at Paul, who returned to the table, seemingly lost in thought.

  “Are you okay?” she asked him.

  “I’m fine.” He smiled as he took a sip of his tea. “It’s cold,” he said, making a disgusted face.

  He moved over to the sink to rinse his cup. Kate joined him.

  He leaned against the counter and said, “This is like stepping into a time warp. Only I’m not so sure it’s a place I really want to go.”

  KATE CLEANED UP THE MANNEQUIN, putting its faded dress back on, and placed the collectible cash—totaling more than two thousand dollars—in a large canvas tote bag for Sheriff Roberts to look at the following day, moving it into Paul’s study for safekeeping. When Kate had told Skip Spencer the nature of her call, he’d deferred to his superior, saying that a find of that size deserved the sheriff’s attention. The sheriff had then promised to stop by first thing in the morning.

  Kate couldn’t get the day’s mystery out of her mind. What was the connection between the mannequin from Hanlon’s Boutique and the money found inside it? She decided to look into mannequins from the era as well as the antique cash to see if she could learn anything that might offer an answer. She booted up the computer in Paul’s study. Paul was in the living room reading.

  As the sign-in page popped onto the screen, Kate’s cell phone began to ring, and she hurried to answer it.

  Her youngest daughter’s voice filled the line almost as soon as Kate got the receiver to her ear.

  “Mom,” Rebecca said. Her voice sounded so much like her older sister Melissa’s that Kate sometimes got the two confused, though the eagerness in Rebecca’s tone gave her away. “I got a lead in a play!” she practically squealed.

  “Oh, honey,” Kate said, “that’s wonderful!”