Note: I am very grateful for those of you following the story and especially for the kind reviews that have been left. For the reviews since the last chapter was posted, thank you to Paulina Ann, Hero 76, Man UTD, Drumboy100, BeeBee18, BMSH, sm2003495, hlahabibty, ErinJordan, EvergreenDreamweaver, Orions Belte, and max2013.

Civil Skirmishes

Chapter 11

Close to an hour later, everyone reconvened back at the lodge. Vanessa and Callie were sporting deep golden tans, having returned from spending the greater part of the morning and early afternoon sunbathing and swimming.

Callie and Frank sat on chairs near the small table adjacent to the window, Vanessa sat on Joe's lap on the couch, and Biff and Chet sat on opposite ends of the bed. All were eager to plan the rest of the day.

Vanessa forced her countenance into a smile as she listened to Biff and Joe make plans for the campout at Devil's Den that evening. Callie had told her about the boys' earlier arrival and Biff's plan to camp with her and Joe, as sort of a heads-up after Callie had received the text from Frank. She was glad that Callie had told her; it had given her enough time to control her anger and frustration about this trip and to at least pretend that things were okay at the moment.

She had worked so hard to plan this trip, and it was a complete and total bust. Not only had Joe gotten involved in a mystery, as usual, but also now they were stuck at Gettysburg for the foreseeable future, with Lancaster county, Hershey Park, and even Philly barely a remote possibility. She probably could have even tolerated that, had Joe been attentive and romantic. Instead, he'd been slightly distant and distractible. Now, with Biff here, there was barely any hope of romance and personal time. While that didn't seem to be bothering Joe all that much, it was starting to hurt her deeply.

"Okay, Van?"

She heard her name and was snapped from her reverie when she felt Joe squeeze her around the waist and saw all eyes trained on her.

"Oh. What? I'm sorry. I didn't hear you," she admitted sheepishly.

"Probably dreaming of your sexy man," Joe teased her, and she felt the color rush to her face. He had no idea.

"We were just saying that maybe I'll go with Frank and the guys for a little while to do some sightseeing. The monuments are lovely and there's so much to see. We may head up to where Pickett's Charge took place, since it's the day of the anniversary. Joe wanted to spend some time with you alone," Callie said with a warm smile and a small wink. Callie knew how upset she had been all day.

Vanessa was shocked. "Really?" she asked, afraid to hope.

"Absolutely, babe," Joe replied, giving her a kiss on the cheek while ignoring Biff's catcall. He looked in her eyes. "I know this isn't turning out exactly the way you planned, and I feel bad. We all do. So let's try to make the most of it. We'll meet back here at 6:00, and then Biff will come with us while Chet, Callie, and Frank head to the Inn. Then tomorrow we can do whatever you'd like before the Ball. Biff and Chet won't be attending."

"I'm really disappointed but I'll get over it," Biff sighed dramatically while Chet rolled his eyes. Vanessa had a feeling that he was being sarcastic, but she chose not to take it that way, opting for optimism.

"Frank and I have a little sleuthing to work on tomorrow, but basically you make the plans and we all show up." He rested his head over her shoulder. "And in the meantime, babe, it's me and you for a few hours."

Vanessa felt her heart beating a bit more quickly. Maybe they could salvage things after all.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

A half an hour later, she and Joe were walking hand in hand through the heart of the town, and she was starting to relax a little.

"You okay, Van?" Joe asked her, as she stopped to look in a window at the beautiful time period pottery.

"Isn't that gorgeous?" she asked, pointing to a white plate decorated with a dark blue swirl design.

Joe peered at it more closely. "Uh… sure? It just doesn't strike me as something you'd like. Just surprised, that's all," he said with a shrug. "Want to get some ice cream?" he asked, eyes alight with happiness as he spotted a local shop with a long line. "If it's crowded, the ice cream has to be good!"

Vanessa turned to him, and finally said "sure," in a small voice.

Joe's whole face lit up. "I'll get it for us! I'll get cups so the ice cream doesn't melt- it's so hot! I'll get your favorite- vanilla bean. You can wait here and window shop all you'd like. It shouldn't be long." He gave her a quick kiss and crossed the street to join the long line of people.

Vanessa turned back to the window, suddenly very sad. How could Joe not have known that she loved plates like that? She lived in an old farmhouse in Bayport when she wasn't at college, for goodness sake. Her mom had a collection of period pottery and plates, all in blues, whites, and creams. Because he barely knows my mom. Because he hasn't been to my house all that much.

She briefly thought of Frank, who had a key to Callie's apartment in California, who knew the passcode to Callie's phone and she to his, though she swore she had never even looked. They even had spare keys to each other's cars, "just in case", and neither thought anything of it. She and Joe had nothing like that. He had never asked or offered.

Suddenly, the weight of everything started to hit her. The forgetting of the anniversary, the mention of Iola, the distance, the damned keys he always wore, the invitation to Biff, the lack of knowledge about the plates. But she could deal with all of that. What she couldn't deal with was the vanilla bean.

Butter pecan. It had always been butter pecan.

Eyes swimming with tears, she turned the opposite way down the street, needing to be even more alone than she already was.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Joe squinted his eyes in the sun, having forgotten his sunglasses, and tried to balance two huge cups of ice cream. "Van?" he called out, not seeing her in the throngs of people.

He sighed as he grabbed one of the few open tables set up along the sidewalk by the ice cream parlor. Where was she? He took a moment to collect himself. There were tons of people in broad daylight, and she had to be fine. She couldn't have been gone for more than fifteen minutes.

With a shrug, he sat down and started digging into his ice cream, allowing his mind to wander. This case was really pretty complicated. There was seemingly no pattern to what was occurring, other than the fact that all three victims were female. Maybe attacks were alternating between gunshots and stabbings? If so, that was pretty unusual. It was bothering him that at every scene someone, himself included- seemed to know something that wasn't yet revealed.

When he and Vanessa had stumbled upon Nellie's attack, he had seen something that was bothering him, but it was buried so deep he couldn't seem to retrieve it or even to swear that it had been there at all. In the first attack at the bookstore, the man they had spoken to seemed to want to say more, but he was also holding back. And that pimp had mentioned something about a scream that wasn't sitting right, even now. Plus, there was the question- the very big question- of why someone had tried to kill him and Frank at the police station. What did they know that they didn't know that they knew? He smiled at the awkward nature of the question.

Looking up as he finished his ice cream, he still didn't see Vanessa. She must be really into the shopping, he thought momentarily. Still, just to be sure, he sent her a quick text and waited to hear back, continuing his train of thought. Noting that Vanessa's ice cream was half melted already, he shrugged and smiled, starting to spoon hers out as well. I'll just buy her another one. It was meant to be!

As he ate slowly, he continued to think about the case, realizing that Frank had stumbled upon a completely separate case and had been injured. He hadn't even started to help Frank out with that one- maybe tomorrow before the Ball he could do so.

With a heavy sigh, Joe found himself suddenly not hungry. He checked his phone- nothing. Maybe the cell phone reception was poor here?

He got up, threw away the trash, and started making his way back to the last store where he had seen Vanessa. Mindlessly, he touched the keys that hung from his neck and felt the slightest bit of comfort.

After fifteen minutes, as he headed back towards the town center, he was starting to get concerned. Before he could think about it, he felt his phone buzz as a text came in.

I'm fine. Went back to room to rest. Not feeling well.

He stared at the message, his stomach feeling a bit off. There was nothing wrong, per se, with it. But there was no feel of Vanessa- no apology, as she would normally put, not little emojis, no "love you". Had she EVER sent a text to him and NOT said "I love you?" Again, he felt off. That bothered him. Telling her that he loved her was second nature now.

As he approached the Gettysburg Tour Center, he looked up and literally walked right into Callie, who almost dropped her purse. Grabbing it quickly for her, he forced a smile. "Hey. Aren't you supposed to be looking at monuments or something?" he asked.

He noticed she had a mischievous smile when she looked up at him, quickly adjusting her ponytail. "Aren't you supposed to be on a romantic stroll with your girlfriend?"

"I was," he replied, finding it easier at the moment to just answer her instead of being sarcastic. "She wasn't feeling well and she wanted to rest back at the hotel. I guess she wanted to be able to enjoy the camping tonight."

Callie raised her brow. "Hmm. She was fine all day. Hope she's okay." The way she said it made him feel defensive, as if she knew something but wasn't telling him. Someone else holding back.

"Yeah. Me, too," he replied evenly. "Why are you alone? It's not really safe for you to be out here by yourself. Where're the guys?"

She smiled. "Aw, Joe. I'd almost think you cared," she joked with him.

"Not really. But my brother would." As soon as he said it, he cringed. He didn't mean to sound like an ass, but he was thinking about Vanessa and he was incredibly anxious and uptight for some reason. "Sorry," he muttered.

Callie looked hurt, but, to her credit, he noted, she didn't egg him on. Still, the laid back demeanor she had just showed him was gone, replaced by what he recognized as a cool detachment. "Biff's with Frank at a store outside town looking at camping things for tonight. I'm with Chet, but he's inside the tourist building- it's mobbed- looking for souvenirs."

"So why aren't you with him?" he asked. "If you say you're going to stay with him, as I'm sure my brother asked you to do, then do it. There's a murderer out here Callie. Don't be stupid."

He saw the color rise to her face. "Goodbye, Joe," she said angrily, turning and walking away quickly, heading further away from Chet.

Muttering under his breath, he counted to fifty before he took off after her, a rather formidable feat with the streets this crowded. He saw her turn down a quieter street and grabbed her arm.

He was taken aback when she gasped and, when she recognized him, she looked like she might cry, trembling and pale.

"Callie? What's the matter?" he asked, concerned at once. "Listen, I'm sorry. Really. Nothing's working out right today and I'm saying everything wrong. Are...are you okay?" She was taking deep, shaky breaths and turned away from him, holding up a hand to indicate that he needed to back off and give her a minute. Totally confused, he stood awkwardly until she was ready to talk. When she turned around, she looked better, but he could still see that she was shaken.

"Joe," she said at last, looking up at him, "I'm going to tell you this once, okay? Please listen." Her voice was unsteady and she looked totally vulnerable. He was immediately serious. "You have to stop sneaking up on me or grabbing me. I… I get really panicked and it's very scary for me. I don't like being touched if I don't know it's coming. Please respect that. I'm really not kidding."

Joe was shocked. For once, she wasn't being sarcastic or joking, and she was being totally direct with him, which he found refreshing. But her eyes… they reflected a deep hurt. No. Not hurt. She was completely, genuinely scared. Then, as though a curtain lifted, he remembered talking to Frank once in December and asking him who Callie's new boyfriend was. It turned out that the good looking guy whom she'd brought to Chet's Christmas party was her good friend, John, whom she'd met when some guy grabbed her behind a gym at UCLA. That was about all Frank said, but now that random fact seemed to make sense in terms of why Callie was scared. That HAD to be it.

He looked at her, and saw how hard she was trying to be tough, to blink back the tears that had started to come, and he felt… protective of her. He didn't want to see her hurt.

"Can I give you a hug?" he asked at last, and he held out his arms.

She nodded and stepped into his embrace, and he felt her still trembling. What the hell had that guy done to her? John had gotten to her right away, hadn't he? He made a mental note to ask Frank about it. "Hey, it's okay," he told her, gently. "I understand and I'm really sorry."

She stepped away from him. "I'm fine," she told him, blushing a bit. "Thank you." She met his eyes again. "You said that you're having a bad day. Why?"

He sighed. "I don't even know."

"Wanna talk about it?" she asked. "Let's take a walk. I was going into the Jennie Wade house to take a tour before. It's in ten minutes. I wasn't being 'stupid'. Chet knows exactly where I am and it's literally a three minute walk across the parking lot to the Tour Center. Come with me- I'll pay. Then maybe we can talk?"

Joe nodded slowly. What the hell? Callie knew Iola and had been great friends with her; she was best friends with Vanessa now. Most important, she had been pretty open and honest with him and, he had to admit, she knew when to keep her mouth shut. She'd proven herself trustworthy to a lot of people. Maybe she could help him sort through some of these crazy anxieties. He'd downplay them, but he had a feeling… well, he would test her. If she didn't tell Frank if he asked her not to… then just maybe they really could start to be friends.

He could always talk to Frank; he knew that. Even Biff. Chet- not about this. Vanessa- not about this- not yet. But Callie's perspective as a woman and as a person who had been and was close to the women he loved might be invaluable. The first time she said anything to make fun of him, though, he'd be done with her- forever. He hated that he was so black and white about things, but he and Callie had a long, complex past, and though he found himself actually liking her now, trust took a long time to earn.

"What are you thinking?" Callie asked as they made their way back to the House.

"Honestly? I'm thinking that maybe it would be good to talk. But I'm not sure I trust you." He might as well be forthcoming.

To his absolute shock, she wasn't upset, shrugging her shoulders and quickly glancing at him. "I don't trust you at all," she replied, simply. "So I get it."

Joe felt unreasonably offended. "Why don't you trust me?" he asked, trying to keep the edge out of his voice.

Finally, she turned to him, stopping for a moment. Her eyes were flashing, "Seriously, Joe? You want honesty? Fine. You're argumentative. You like to test people- and don't think that I don't know that you're doing it to me now. You always think that there's something better out there and you never appreciate what you have while you have it. This is harsh, Joe, but it's the truth. You made up your mind to dislike me, and you have held onto that idea for SIX YEARS. You drove Iola crazy. And honestly, you're messing up any chance you have with Vanessa because you're too damned stubborn to make a change."

Joe felt his anger flair. Who the hell did she think she was, saying those things?! He was about to go off on her when she cut him off as he opened his mouth.

"Stop it. Right now. Don't you dare yell at me. Look, Joe. I was tough as a teenager, okay? I understand that. We butted heads all the time. If we are ever going to have a real, genuine friendship, then you need to know that I'm just like you in one way- I will tell it like it is. I'm loyal and trustworthy, whether you believe that or not. I'm not trying to hurt you! I'm trying to help you! You're so defensive that you're not listening. I will be thrilled to talk to you about Iola and Vanessa- and honestly I'm humbled and grateful that you were open enough to ask me. But come on, Joe! You have to bend a little. And if you still don't trust me or like me," she lifted her sunglasses to look at him, "then that's sad. Because you know who loses? Frank. Because he loves us both and we love him. Think about it." Saying no more, she proceeded to the destination.

Joe felt his heart beating hard. He was angry, flustered, upset… but oddly fascinated. Who was this girl? Certainly not the same person he'd known for so long. He had seen her lately be funny and chill, but this brutally honest, no holds barred side was strangely almost what he craved. Very few people talked to him with no pretense, and he'd always liked knowing where he stood with people. With a start, he realized that he was exactly like her. The thought almost made him lightheaded for a moment.

Inside, he stood in silence next to Callie as the tour began. The guide started speaking. "At twenty years old, Jennie Wade was the only direct civilian casualty of the battle, when she was killed by a stray bullet on July 3, 1863. That's right. Today marks the anniversary of her death. She was an innocent victim, making dough for bread, when a random shot traveled through the kitchen door and the parlor door of her sister's house- here- and hit her. She died instantly. It is uncertain which side fired the fatal shot, but Jennie never saw it coming."*

Joe felt the pounding start in his head. This… it was too much. Callie was listening attentively with the rest of the onlookers as they toured the house, but he couldn't concentrate; felt a cold sweat break out on his forehead. Iola. It's all he could think about all of a sudden. Innocent victim. Never saw it coming. Every description fit Iola perfectly. Amazing person. Down to earth. Taken too soon. Left her great love behind.

He had to get out of there.

Excusing himself quietly, ignoring the shocked look on Callie's face, he made it back outside, clutching the keys tightly and fighting tears. It was this place: Gettysburg. All the sorrow, the endless violence, the ghosts that were supposedly everywhere. God, he felt her presence so strongly. He had been feeling it more and more with every moment that he fell deeper in love with Vanessa. Why? What was he so scared of?

It was starting to make sense and yet starting to confuse him even more. Callie- he needed to talk to her.

Before he could think, though, he saw a horse and buggy flying through the center of town, causing pedestrians to flee and scream. Cars honked from the streets that weren't blocked off. He could not even process what was happening as he heard shots being fired, and he saw a man in a Civil War uniform jump out of the carriage, which had now suddenly stopped, raise his rifle…

...and fire directly at him.

*Jennie Wade was the only civilian killed at Gettysburg. The Tour Center and her home are in close proximity across a parking lot, as described.