Read Online Death By Chocolate 6 (Mystery and Women Sleuths) (Josiah Reynolds Mysteries) by Abigail Keam - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Abigail Keam
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Ontario on October 5, 1813.
Simon Kenton claimed that he was asked to identify Tecumseh’s body but lied, as he didn’t want the great chief’s body to be mutilated by the whites. As he leaned over the body of Tecumseh, he muttered, “There be cowards here.” He pointed to another Native American’s body as that of the Shawnee chief.
Of the 3,500 infantry and cavalry commanded by Harrison, five brigades were Kentuckians led by Isaac Shelby, Kentucky’s first governor, as well as a 1,000 Kentucky volunteer cavalry under Richard Johnson from Georgetown, Kentucky.
But Ginny and I weren’t concerned with the history of the Cumberland River as we stared at the tumultuous pool below the river’s most fantastic site – the thundering Cumberland Falls.
Ginny’s face twisted into grief as she grabbed my arm. “You don’t think my boy’s down there in that mess, do you?”
I looked down sixty-eight feet to the turbulent pool where the Falls collided with the river again. “No, Ginny, they’ve already dragged the pool. He’s not there.”
“Yes, that’s right. I would hate to think of Dwight under all that water.”
“Are you going to be all right with this? I can come back by myself.” I knew I had made a mistake bringing her. Ginny was just too tender yet.
“I won’t get in the way, promise. In fact, I’ll go sit at the Lodge until you’re finished, Jo.”
“I think that would be best. People might be hesitant to speak in front of you . . . being the mother and all.”
“I understand. I won’t be difficult, I promise. I’ve got my cell phone. Call if you need me.”
Leaving Ginny to rest at Dupont Lodge, I headed out of the park onto US 25 and then on the Bee Creek Road for the Grove Marina on Laurel River Lake.
Laurel River Lake is a reservoir built in 1977 by the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers on the Laurel River.
Once inside the Daniel Boone National Forest, I opened the car windows. The temperature was definitely cooler and the air seemed dank and musty. I drove slowly, taking in the dense, deep green forest on both sides of the road.
Goetz was right. Someone could be buried in the forest and no one would find the body for years, if at all.
I shook that notion out of my head. One had to be positive. Goodness, what was I thinking? I didn’t want Dwight’s body to be found at all. I wanted him to be alive and trying to get back to his family.
Still, Ginny needed to know for sure.
I pulled into the nicely landscaped Marina’s parking lot and parked in the Handicapped section. Using my ebony cane, which Franklin had purchased for me in Key West, I managed my way down the long plank to the General Store. I stepped up my pace when two fishermen in wheelchairs, dragging a huge ice chest, whizzed past me and onto a fishing boat.
After having yelled at me good naturedly to get out of the way when passing, they then beckoned to me to come join them on the boat. I don’t think they had fishing in mind.
Grinning, I waved goodbye and hurried into the General Store. At the front counter, I asked for Billy Klotter, the person who had found Dwight’s rented boat adrift on the lake.
“Billy!” yelled a disheveled bosomy woman at the front counter. “Someone here to see ya.” She then motioned for me to stand out of the way so she could wait on customers.
A man about my age, with salt and pepper hair, shuffled out of the back room. He must have had arthritis, as his movements were stiff and slow. “Yep?” he said, looking around the store.
I waved to him and stepped behind the counter. The bosomy woman gave me an irritated look and was about to say something when I rushed some words out. “Mr. Klotter, I am Josiah Reynolds. I called earlier about Dwight Wheelwright. Can we step into your office? Great. Thank you,” I proposed as I stepped around Mr. Klotter and marched into his sanctuary.
There was no way I was going to discuss this around a bunch of nosey locals who were straining their
Simon Kenton claimed that he was asked to identify Tecumseh’s body but lied, as he didn’t want the great chief’s body to be mutilated by the whites. As he leaned over the body of Tecumseh, he muttered, “There be cowards here.” He pointed to another Native American’s body as that of the Shawnee chief.
Of the 3,500 infantry and cavalry commanded by Harrison, five brigades were Kentuckians led by Isaac Shelby, Kentucky’s first governor, as well as a 1,000 Kentucky volunteer cavalry under Richard Johnson from Georgetown, Kentucky.
But Ginny and I weren’t concerned with the history of the Cumberland River as we stared at the tumultuous pool below the river’s most fantastic site – the thundering Cumberland Falls.
Ginny’s face twisted into grief as she grabbed my arm. “You don’t think my boy’s down there in that mess, do you?”
I looked down sixty-eight feet to the turbulent pool where the Falls collided with the river again. “No, Ginny, they’ve already dragged the pool. He’s not there.”
“Yes, that’s right. I would hate to think of Dwight under all that water.”
“Are you going to be all right with this? I can come back by myself.” I knew I had made a mistake bringing her. Ginny was just too tender yet.
“I won’t get in the way, promise. In fact, I’ll go sit at the Lodge until you’re finished, Jo.”
“I think that would be best. People might be hesitant to speak in front of you . . . being the mother and all.”
“I understand. I won’t be difficult, I promise. I’ve got my cell phone. Call if you need me.”
Leaving Ginny to rest at Dupont Lodge, I headed out of the park onto US 25 and then on the Bee Creek Road for the Grove Marina on Laurel River Lake.
Laurel River Lake is a reservoir built in 1977 by the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers on the Laurel River.
Once inside the Daniel Boone National Forest, I opened the car windows. The temperature was definitely cooler and the air seemed dank and musty. I drove slowly, taking in the dense, deep green forest on both sides of the road.
Goetz was right. Someone could be buried in the forest and no one would find the body for years, if at all.
I shook that notion out of my head. One had to be positive. Goodness, what was I thinking? I didn’t want Dwight’s body to be found at all. I wanted him to be alive and trying to get back to his family.
Still, Ginny needed to know for sure.
I pulled into the nicely landscaped Marina’s parking lot and parked in the Handicapped section. Using my ebony cane, which Franklin had purchased for me in Key West, I managed my way down the long plank to the General Store. I stepped up my pace when two fishermen in wheelchairs, dragging a huge ice chest, whizzed past me and onto a fishing boat.
After having yelled at me good naturedly to get out of the way when passing, they then beckoned to me to come join them on the boat. I don’t think they had fishing in mind.
Grinning, I waved goodbye and hurried into the General Store. At the front counter, I asked for Billy Klotter, the person who had found Dwight’s rented boat adrift on the lake.
“Billy!” yelled a disheveled bosomy woman at the front counter. “Someone here to see ya.” She then motioned for me to stand out of the way so she could wait on customers.
A man about my age, with salt and pepper hair, shuffled out of the back room. He must have had arthritis, as his movements were stiff and slow. “Yep?” he said, looking around the store.
I waved to him and stepped behind the counter. The bosomy woman gave me an irritated look and was about to say something when I rushed some words out. “Mr. Klotter, I am Josiah Reynolds. I called earlier about Dwight Wheelwright. Can we step into your office? Great. Thank you,” I proposed as I stepped around Mr. Klotter and marched into his sanctuary.
There was no way I was going to discuss this around a bunch of nosey locals who were straining their
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