Simply Dead Read online

  Contents

  Cover

  A Selection of Titles by Eleanor Kuhns

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Author’s Note

  A Selection of Titles by Eleanor Kuhns

  The Will Rees Series

  A SIMPLE MURDER

  DEATH OF A DYER

  CRADLE TO GRAVE

  DEATH IN SALEM

  THE DEVIL’S COLD DISH

  THE SHAKER MURDERS *

  SIMPLY DEAD *

  * available from Severn House

  SIMPLY DEAD

  Eleanor Kuhns

  This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.

  First published in Great Britain and the USA 2019 by

  SEVERN HOUSE PUBLISHERS LTD of

  Eardley House, 4 Uxbridge Street, London W8 7SY.

  This eBook edition first published in 2019 by Severn House Digital

  an imprint of Severn House Publishers Limited

  Trade paperback edition first published

  in Great Britain and the USA 2019 by

  SEVERN HOUSE PUBLISHERS LTD.

  Copyright © 2019 by Eleanor Kuhns.

  The right of Eleanor Kuhns to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs & Patents Act 1988.

  British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data

  A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.

  ISBN-13: 978-0-7278-8884-6 (cased)

  ISBN-13: 978-1-78029-604-3 (trade paper)

  ISBN-13: 978-1-4483-0221-5 (e-book)

  Except where actual historical events and characters are being described for the storyline of this novel, all situations in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to living persons is purely coincidental.

  This ebook produced by

  Palimpsest Book Production Limited,

  Falkirk, Stirlingshire, Scotland

  ONE

  ‘Rees. Will Rees.’ Deeper masculine tones joined the woman’s shrill cry. Recognizing the constable’s voice, Rees put his musket on top of the cabinet. Six thirty was too early for company and, besides, the events of the past eighteen months had made him cautious. He did not think he would ever recover from the persecution he and his family had suffered in his hometown of Dugard a year ago this past summer.

  He opened the door. Constable Rouge and his sister Bernadette, the local midwife, came in from the cold. Rees extended a hand to take their cloaks but Rouge shook his head. ‘We aren’t staying,’ he said.

  ‘What brings you out so early on such a cold day?’ Lydia asked, wiping her hands on her apron as she turned from the sink. She inspected Bernadette and then exchanged a glance with Rees. Recent tears glistened on Bernadette’s cheeks and her hair hung down from her cap in loose untidy strings.

  ‘We need your help,’ Bernadette said, clasping and unclasping her hands. Despite the winter weather, she had forgotten her gloves and her skin was red with cold.

  ‘Coffee? Tea?’ Lydia asked, extending her hands to grasp Bernadette’s.

  ‘Sit down and tell us how we can assist you,’ Rees said. Bernadette and her daughter Hortense, also a midwife although still in her teens, had delivered his baby girl. He glanced at Sharon, lying asleep on a blanket by the hearth. She had just learned to walk and usually faded into exhausted naps a few times each day. Since the family rose before four, Sharon had been running around for two and half hours. Rees suspected Lydia would have liked to join her daughter. Trying to control a busy and active toddler at the same time she took care of the house left her weary.

  As she helped Bernadette remove her scarlet cloak Rees urged Rouge to the table. He sat down with his legs astride as though prepared to dash away at a second’s notice. Bernadette sat down next to her brother but jumped to her feet a few seconds later and began to pace, twisting her hands together.

  Lydia went to the fireplace to push the kettle over the flames. ‘Tell us what happened,’ she said.

  ‘Hortense is missing,’ Bernadette said. ‘She was called out to deliver a baby over two weeks ago. Oh dear.’ Her words ended on a sob. Putting her hands over her face she turned her back. Rees saw her shoulders shaking with weeping.

  ‘Hortense did not come home,’ Rouge said as his sister fought for control. Bernadette turned around, her handkerchief still held to her face.

  ‘When she didn’t come home for a few days, I didn’t worry,’ she said, her voice thick. ‘Sometimes births take longer than one expects. But Mr Bennett came into town early this morning and he said the birth went quickly and Hortense left his farm over a week ago. Almost two weeks.’ She looked up at Rees, her face contorted with terror. ‘What could have happened?’

  Once Rees might have wondered if a local tribe had taken the girl, but even this part of the District of Maine had been civilized twenty and more years.

  ‘I found her cart,’ Rouge broke in. ‘Abandoned by the side of the road.’

  ‘The horse was gone,’ Bernadette said. ‘Do you see what this means? She had an accident or something and is lost in the woods.’

  ‘It means somebody accosted her—’ Rouge began.

  As Bernadette began to speak once again, her voice rising in fear, Rees raised his voice and said firmly, ‘One at a time, please.’

  ‘We shouldn’t assume the worse quite yet,’ Lydia said as she put a cup of tea in front of Bernadette. ‘Perhaps she was injured and walked to the nearest farm for help.’

  ‘There aren’t any farms nearby,’ Rouge said. ‘The forest is thick there, in the foothills of Gray Hill.’

  Rees glanced at his wife. His wife was chewing her lower lip. ‘Oh dear,’ she said.

  ‘There are a few homes on the mountain,’ Bernadette said. ‘Maybe she found her way to one …?’ Her voice wobbled to a stop and tears filled her eyes.

  ‘We’re asking everyone to join us in searching for her,’ Rouge said.

  ‘Of course we’ll help,’ Lydia said immediately.

  Rees nodded. ‘Have you asked the Shakers in Z
ion to search?’ he asked.

  ‘We didn’t think they would agree,’ Rouge said. ‘We are too much of the World,’ he added resentfully, quoting a common Shaker phrase.

  ‘They’ve been very kind to us,’ Lydia said. ‘They gave us garden sass and other foods as well as our cow Daisy. I bought the beginnings of a flock of chickens from them. And some of the Brothers assisted Will in putting in a field of buckwheat.’ Although Rees did not contradict his wife, he would not have described the Shakers’ actions as kind. Yes, the Zion community had been generous to offer Lydia and the children refuge after they had fled Dugard. She had been accused of witchcraft and Rees, accused of murder and in danger himself, had feared for both their lives.

  But the Zion community had expected to take possession of the farm Lydia had inherited from her first husband. They had surrendered the property to Rees with reluctance, only doing so after he had identified a murderer among their community and demanded the farm in exchange.

  ‘They owe you a debt,’ Rouge said now, directing a pointed glance in Rees’s direction. ‘You solved several murders for them. They have no reason to aid me or my sister.’

  ‘I’ll ask them,’ Rees said. ‘I think they may be willing to join the search for a young woman. Where have you looked?’

  Bernadette glanced at her brother. Rouge shrugged. ‘I went along the North Road until I found the cart.’

  ‘How did you know it was hers?’ Lydia asked.

  ‘I built a cover over the seat to protect her from the elements …’ Rouge’s voice drifted into silence.

  Rees stared through the kitchen window. Although a few weeks remained before Christmas the winter snows had begun in November. Several inches already carpeted the ground and he knew more was on its way. While out milking early this morning he could smell snow in the air. And it was cold. Not the icy bitterness of January, perhaps, but no one would want to be outside for very long.

  ‘Where are the children?’ Bernadette asked, looking around.

  ‘Walking to school,’ Lydia said. This year even Joseph, almost three and a half, had joined his siblings. ‘Sharon is sleeping.’ She nodded at the fireplace. ‘And Simon …’ She bit her lip and looked at her husband.

  ‘Simon joined our eldest son David in Dugard a few months ago,’ Rees said. ‘David’s wife is increasing and David needed the help.’ Almost eight, Simon loved farming as much as David and was already an experienced farmer. Rees missed the little boy’s help; that was true. But he missed Simon’s presence, especially the funny things he said, with an ache that never seemed to disappear.

  ‘But David was just married,’ Bernadette said, momentarily diverted.

  ‘A year ago now,’ Rees said.

  ‘I didn’t attend the wedding,’ Lydia said. ‘Remember? I remained here, with Sharon and Joseph.’ Bernadette nodded as though that made perfect sense. Rees knew Lydia had wanted to go and would have hauled the younger children with her if it had been safe. But the accusation of witchcraft against her was still alive in Dugard. And, sure enough, Rees had seen Constable Farley creep into the Meetinghouse.

  A small structure of local stone, the building contained hard wooden benches that circled a table. Rees had found the absence of a pulpit surprising but the service, or lack of one, was even more so. The congregation, if it could be styled in such a manner, remained silent as they communed individually with God. Rees, his rear aching from the hard seat, compared the silence to the singing and dancing in a Shaker Meetinghouse and decided he preferred the latter. He was not very good at just sitting; he knew that.

  As he had shifted uncomfortably in his seat for the third time he saw a shadow, directed from the door, move across the room. He turned around. Farley had tiptoed inside. Remembering the threats this superstitious fellow had thrown at Lydia, Rees felt a tingle of fear, a memory of the terror that had consumed him last summer. But fear evaporated in the blast of rage that swept over him and Rees rose to his feet. He took two involuntary steps in the constable’s direction before seeing David’s contorted face and pleading eyes. Rees paused, glancing quickly around. Mr Bristol, soon to be David’s father-in-law, was staring at Rees in dismay. He almost pursued Farley anyway but he couldn’t interrupt his son’s wedding. Gulping, Rees forced himself back into the seat.

  He could not think of God or of anything saintly; his thoughts were entirely taken up with the desire to pummel Farley into the ground.

  By the time the meeting was over, Farley was gone. And David was married. Mr Bristol had spoken in favor for the marriage although he looked as though every word choked him.

  ‘David and his wife, and Simon of course, are supposed to come and visit for Christmas,’ Rees said now. He was not so certain they would make it as the chance of snowstorms became more and more likely. And David’s wife was with child; the baby due to arrive in the spring. Rees stifled a sigh. Christmas would not be the same without them.

  ‘How wonderful,’ Bernadette said, her voice cracking. He looked at her. Her eyes were watery with unshed tears and although her hands held the teacup, they trembled so much the tea had spilled. A brown stain pooled on the wooden table.

  Suppressing his own selfish concerns, Rees said, ‘Don’t worry, we’ll find Hortense.’ He cast a quick look through the window once again. He just hoped they found her alive. Turning to Rouge, Rees asked, ‘Where is her cart located on North Road?’ Since he and his family had moved in to Durham, more or less permanently, just eighteen months ago, he did not know this area well. ‘Those farms Bernadette mentioned. Could she have gone to one of them?’

  Rouge shook his head. ‘The few farmhouses out that way are a fair distance from North Road. Besides, I already inquired at the ones nearest the cart.’

  ‘Maybe she walked back to Gray Hill,’ Rees suggested.

  ‘No. Too far. And those …’ He paused, searching for the right word. ‘Those habitations are little more than cabins with a buckwheat field or two.’

  ‘How do they live then?’ Lydia asked. Rouge’s head swiveled to her in surprise. ‘Well, they don’t farm,’ she said, raising her brows.

  ‘Now, in winter, they survive by hunting. Come spring we might see some of the older men bringing down maple syrup or deer hides to sell in town. The others – the younger men – will be up in the lumber camp cutting timber. When the snow melts, they’ll drive the logs down the eastern side of the hills to Falmouth.’ He paused and added, ‘We don’t see them much. They keep to themselves.’

  ‘What my brother means,’ Bernadette said, ‘is that most of the people on Gray Hill prefer their own company. They don’t mix with us.’

  ‘Mon Dieu, some of those men have never come off the Hill,’ Rouge said emphatically.

  ‘Hortense would have had to stay with the Bennetts,’ Bernadette said, returning to her worry. ‘She would have been forced to. We don’t deliver many babies on Gray Hill and know few other families.’ Her voice quivered to a stop. Even Rees knew she was grasping at straws. Rouge looked at his sister and reached across the table to clasp her hand.

  ‘At least the Bennetts live close to the bottom of the hill,’ he said reassuringly. ‘She could have made it there.’ He stumbled over the words – they all knew Hortense was not at the Bennetts and he directed a beseeching look at Rees. ‘Will you come?’

  ‘Of course. And I’ll speak to Brother Jonathan as well.’ He knew they would need as many searchers as possible.

  Lydia smiled at Bernadette. ‘Why don’t you wait here with me where it’s warm.’

  ‘No, no. I must go with my brother.’ Her mouth contorted and Rees knew she was trying not to cry.

  ‘Stay here, Dette,’ Rouge said, his voice gentler than Rees had ever heard. ‘You won’t be of any help out there freezing by the road.’

  Lydia reached across the table and grasped the other woman’s hand. ‘Please stay here. And let me get you another cup of tea.’

  ‘I’ll meet you on North Road,’ Rees said to Rouge, wishing Ho
rtense had disappeared closer to town. It would be easier to find her among the farms where there were open fields and people to talk to. And she would have shelter. In the woods, especially the thick evergreen forest of this Maine Province, she could be wandering in circles and moving ever further from the road. He feared they might already be too late to find her alive.

  TWO

  By the time Rees met the other searchers by the abandoned cart the morning was half-gone. Thin winter sunlight shone upon the road and upon the crowd of men gathered there without warming the air at all. Rees knew it would still be shadowy and dim under the trees; this December sun was too weak to pierce the interlaced evergreens, especially in the shade of Gray Hill. He tipped his head back. Clouds wreathed the top of the hill in gray mist. Anywhere else, this hill would be called a mountain. But not here, in the District of Maine, where understatement was a way of life.

  He parked on the roadside opposite to Hortense’s cart and threw a blanket over his horse before crossing the road to join Constable Rouge. The Shaker Brothers stood a little apart and Rees nodded to them. There were many more people here than he expected.

  ‘Why don’t we send some of the men north?’ He suggested to Rouge as he surveyed the crowd milling around by the abandoned vehicle. ‘Just in case she went that way.’ He thought the throng should be divided, broken up and sent in other directions. This many people would trample Hortense’s tracks. ‘Maybe you should take a few men to the homesteads in the woods and question those people.’ He paused when Rouge frowned.

  ‘But the buggy is here,’ he objected, gesturing to it.

  ‘Yes. And we have plenty of men to search here,’ Rees said. Rouge was scowling and looked ready to argue. Rees searched for a reason that would persuade the other man. ‘Someone should question the families on Gray Hill.’ He rushed into speech before Rouge could start shouting. ‘Hortense might have taken shelter in one of those cabins, as your sister suggested, no matter how unlikely.’

  ‘What, go from cabin to cabin? That would take days. And there’s no guarantee they will even speak to me.’