Evidence

Sheriff Dickerson and his men searched the Adams Farm thoroughly. They found no trace of Will or Cordia. They began to ride out into the outlying areas, stopping at houses, and asking if anyone had heard anything suspicious. No one had noticed anything out of the ordinary. Around two o’clock in the morning, Sheriff Dickerson ordered his men to go home, planning to reconvene at first light. He returned to the Pike home to let Cordia’s parents and Carey know they had come up empty handed.
Carey’s performance had been extremely convincing. As Sheriff Dickerson explained that the search had not been successful, the brokenhearted fiancé began to weep. Jane also broke into tears, and Isaac did his best to comfort his wife. Frieda asked to be excused to her room so that she could mourn in private, unwilling to speak her theory that, perhaps, Cordia had ridden off with a band of marauders. She had held her suspicions since the last time Will was in town, and it was difficult to convince her otherwise.
After the sheriff and his men had gone out, promising they would reconvene at first light, Isaac proposed that the rest of them get some rest as well. Tomorrow promised to be a difficult day for all. Though Jane offered to let Carey stay in a guest room, he decided he needed to go home and check on his father who was probably very worried about him.
As Carey exited, his tears dried up immediately, and the malevolent grin reappeared on his face. A thorough search of the house had produced nothing, which meant that Cordia had not been wise enough to let anyone know what he had done. Now, as soon as Will thought it was safe to come home, he would be arrested. Even if Cordia attempted to convince the sheriff that she had gone of her free will, the Pikes would be so angry they would insist on pressing charges anyway, he was sure of it.
“Did you check her room well?” Jane asked, hoping there was a possibility a clue had been left behind and the men had just overlooked it.
“I believe so,” Isaac said, thoughtfully. “But, darling, if you’d like to go up and check it again, perhaps you should do so.”
As Jane stood and approached the stairs, she asked, “Did he even let her take a dress or her essentials?”
“I hadn’t noticed,” Isaac admitted. “I was looking for additional items, not any that had been removed.”
Jane nodded, not too surprised. “I will see if any of her dresses are missing. I hope he was at least kind enough to let her take some things with her. I just cannot imagine Will acting this way. He has always been so pleasant.”
“I know,” Isaac agreed. “Perhaps the war has changed him.” He was leaning against the banister, watching his wife ascend the stairs and thinking how very little of this situation made any sense. A rumbling in his stomach reminded him of how late it was and how food always had a way of making him feel better. He went off to the kitchen to see what he could find.
Jane opened Cordia’s bedroom door cautiously, hopefully. Maybe, if she concentrated, Cordia would be there, somehow. Of course, when the door opened, her daughter had not manifested. Jane went to her daughter’s closet and moved her dresses around on the clothes rack. She noticed immediately that Cordia’s light green dress, one of her favorites, was not there. She looked around on the floor and did not see it there either. Turning back to the closet, she double-checked, realizing there was another dress missing, the pink one, and Jane’s suspicions began to grow. She looked up at the shelf on the top of the closet. Though she was short, she could see that Cordia’s overnight bag, the smallest of her luggage items, was gone. There was a gaping spot open in the top of the closet, and it looked like, perhaps, more than one article had been removed. Quickly, she went to her dresser drawers and realized Cordia had packed some other items as well. She surveyed the room, noticing other articles that were out of place. Cordia’s hairbrush, her favorite hair comb, both gone. Seeing none of these items on the floor or on the bed, she became certain that Cordia must have taken them with her. Now, why would a kidnapper allow his prisoner to pack a bag?
Then she noticed something else. A hatbox on the bed. Though it was possible Cordia had just removed it when she was taking items out of the closet, she decided to investigate. Pulling the top of slowly, she saw that it was full of letters. She had no idea that Cordia had received so much mail. She picked up the one on top and saw immediately that it was from Will. Before she even opened it, she glanced through the rest of them. There must have been at least two or three dozen of them, all from Will. Pulling the top letter out of the envelope, she read over it quickly. At once, she could see that it was a love letter. Cordia and Will had been corresponding this entire time! They were courting, even while he was off at war? Jane looked quickly through the dates on the letters, trying to determine if there was any evidence of what might have gone wrong. The last letter she could find was dated in August. Was it possible that Cordia had written to Will, informing him that she was breaking off their engagement to marry Carey? In a rage, he had returned and absconded with her, planning to force her to become his bride? As fast as her stout legs could carry her, she grabbed the hatbox and hurried down the stairs to find Isaac.
He was standing in the kitchen, crunching on an apple, peering out the window. At least the last time Cordia had disappeared, he knew that Frieda was with her, and he knew where she had gone. He had been concerned about her for certain, but at least she had not been accompanied by a trained soldier who had possibly taken her in a jealous rage.
“Isaac!” Jane exclaimed, carrying the hatbox into the kitchen and sitting it on the counter. “Look at what I found in Cordia’s room!”
Puzzled, Isaac peered over his wife’s shoulder as she took the lid off, revealing what looked like letters. “What is it?” he asked confused.
“Love letters from Will Tucker!” she exclaimed. “He must have found out that Cordia was planning to marry Carey and returned to seek his vengeance!”
Isaac did not feel any less confused. “Now, why would he do that? And even if that is why he returned from the war, Arthur mentioned he’d come back over a week ago. Why wait until now? Hasn’t Cordia been over to the Adams Farm recently? Certainly she has. That makes little sense to me, Jane.”
Jane was upset that Isaac had blown so many holes in her theory. “Well, what do you think happened then?” she asked smartly.
Pondering the question, Isaac picked up one of the letters. It was the most recent one, dated in August of this year. “I’m not sure,” he admitted. “Did you read any of them?”
“Just that one,” Jane conceded. “It just talked about how the war was going, how he wasn’t sure if he was going to come home at the end of his enlistment, and how much he loved her and missed her. Nothing unusual.”
Isaac knew he did not want to read any of the letters. What a young man wrote to his daughter regarding his love for her was none of his business. “What’s the date of the first letter?” he inquired.
Jane sighed. “That’s the thing, Isaac. It’s August, 1861.” Jane watched as her husband did the math. “That’s right, before Jaris died. Can you believe that? Can you imagine what Margaret is going to think when she finds out?”
“Did you read it? Maybe they didn’t start this courting business until later,” Isaac said, wanting to give his daughter the benefit of the doubt.
“Not yet,” Jane replied, “But I intend to. I intend to read all of them. There may be some clues in here!”
“Now hold on there,” Isaac said, picking the box up and pulling it away from her reach. “These are our daughter’s private correspondences. There’s nothing in here that’s going to let us know anything more than this last letter. And if you’ve read that one, then we don’t need to read the rest.”
“Are you serious, Isaac?” Jane implored. “We need to turn these over to Sheriff Dickerson. There may be some valuable information in there!”
“Oh, horsefeathers,” Isaac replied, putting the lid on the box. “How would you like it if I handed over our love letters to Sheriff Dickerson? No good can come of it, Jane.”
She considered his statement and agreed that she certainly wouldn’t want anyone else reading the letters Isaac and she had sent to each other before they were married. “Well, what if there’s some important information right under our noses, and we miss it?” she asked in anguish.
“If there is, it’s not in here,” Isaac replied, matter-of-factly. He took the hatbox and put it high up in one of the cabinets where no one else could reach it. “Now, come on, let’s get some rest,” he advised, nudging her in the back and steering her out of the room. As he passed by the counter with the cookie jar, he began to consider how much better a gingersnap always made him feel. He pulled the lid off of the container, a waft of sweetness filling the air.
“Now Isaac,” Jane began, “You don’t need a cookie this time of night.”
Considering her remark and thinking about the extra weight he had been putting on as he aged, he realized she was right and put the lid back on the jar. “Tomorrow,” he whispered. “I shall see you tomorrow, dear Ginger Snap.”