Chapter 17
There were thick clouds in the sky covering Forks in a typical overcast. The snow was deep in parts that had not been plowed, but otherwise the streets were clear for use. Towards the center of town was located a small General Store run by Mitch Thompson and his ill-fated elderly assistant the town had renamed Robert after he and several others were released from Quileute servitude decades ago. Mitch Thompson was a rather old gentleman himself, though not quite as old as Robert. In truth, Mitch was a rather unfortunate looking man, cursed with dry skin, access weight from years of drinking and a difficulty speaking at times from years of smoking. Robert, while a wiry looking old man himself, fared better if only because he did not smoke or drink excessively. On this day, Mitch was running the front counter while Robert assisted customers as was the daily routine until the mayor and his wife stepped into the shop.
"What can I help you find, sir?" Robert asked when the mayor and his wife stepped in.
"Darling, why don't you start shopping? I need a minute to speak with Mr. Thompson." The mayor's wife nodded and walked towards Robert with her list of necessities while the mayor walked over to the front counter.
"And what can I do for you this dreary morning, Mr. Mayor?" Mitch asked with a chuckle.
"Some investigating I'm hoping."
"Investigating? Whatever for, sir? I run a shop, not a detective agency." The two chuckled and then the mayor got straight to the point.
"As it turns out, there's this young woman that was kidnapped by Indians last year."
"Oh?" Mitch asked with a raised eyebrow.
"You do dealings with the Quileute do you not?"
"Once a year for salmon, yes, but that's about it. I give them beef, they give me salmon and we get to enjoy it."
"Well, I don't suppose you could pay the Quileutes a friendly visit tomorrow and take a look around?" The mayor pulled out the piece of paper he'd been sent some time ago of the woman in question and the reward for her return listed under her picture. "You'd be looking for this woman." Mitch took a look at the picture and was a little stunned by her pretty face. In truth, were he a savage, he might kidnap her too.
"She was kidnapped from Hoquiam? And they're looking for her here? Forgive my defense of those beasts, sir, but I doubt the Quileutes would have anything to do with this. How would they even get to Hoquiam? On foot? And just for a white woman? I don't think so. That's far too much work even for this pretty face."
"That's what I thought, so I'd disregarded this when we got it. But apparently the husband and some soldiers have looked up and down for her at tribes near them and so far they've come up with nothing so they're getting desperate. On top of that, they're snowed into Neilton. I agreed that I would have someone sent there to look, but I also don't want to cause a fuss. I would imagine, since you deal with them with some inkling of regularity, that they might not be quite so difficult with you."
"You overestimate our relationship I'm afraid. I tolerate them for salmon, they tolerate me for beef, and even when there's a mutual exchange, neither of us is too pleased with the other's presence. If I went there with any less than a specific business deal, they'd scalp me and serve me for dinner at one of their pagan rituals."
"Make sure there's a business exchange to be had, then," the mayor suggested. "They hunt and skin animals do they not? Try to arrange a trade of some blankets for some fur perhaps. That might even give you an opportunity to wander the village and see if you can find Mrs. Wallis."
"Blankets for fur? I might be able to make that work. I don't have many blankets, though. Certainly not enough that I can just pop up on the Quileutes with a reasonable stock."
"I'll assist you with that. We can just get some spare blankets from the hospital. If they take them: great, we get fur. If they don't: whatever, more blankets for us. Either way we walk away fine. I'll arrange for those blankets to be brought to you. Is it possible for you to go to the tribe tomorrow?"
"I'll get someone to watch the store for me for a while," Mitch eventually agreed. "I'll make sure to take a good look around for you."
"Thank you," the mayor answered. After the mayor and his wife left with their wares, Mitch motioned for Robert to come to the front desk. Judging the grimace on Robert's face, he assumed the man had heard the conversation, or at least pieces of it.
"What did you hear?"
"I heard we're going to the Quileutes tomorrow to look for a girl," Robert answered. "Honestly, have the authorities go."
"He said he didn't want to cause a fuss. That's exactly what sending the police would do."
"It's not as if they're any less hostile with us."
"Yes, but we give them things they want." Mitch rubbed the scruff of his chin and sighed. "It can't be helped I suppose. Besides, I doubt the Quileutes would've done it. They're too far away."
"I wouldn't put it past them," Robert said. "I know what they're capable of."
"Damn it, Robert!" Mitch yelled. "Enough with that 'they control wolves' bullshit!"
"They do, I swear! I've seen large wolves pass the village and they had no fear of them! They even interacted with those giant wolves! They could've used those wolves to travel!"
"Honestly, Robert," Mitch said, exasperated. "If such wolves existed, I'm sure we would've noticed them by now. And besides, even if these wolves existed, how would they kidnap that poor girl without killing her? Pick her up by the scruff of her neck like a kitten?" Mitch opened the picture again to look at the woman: Renesmee Cullen Wallis. It listed her features as light brown hair with tints of red, brown eyes, 5' 7" with a promised money reward.
"I remember it too well, Mitch, whether you believe me or not."
"You were a child when we saved you and the others. No one but you seems to remember those large wolves you speak of."
"It's fear," Robert confided. "I'm the only one with the courage to tell you what they're capable of!" Mitch pinched his nose and rubbed his eyes.
"If you say so, Robert," Mitch answered. "Once the mayor brings us some blankets, we'll get going in the morning." Robert didn't answer and walked out to the back room. Someone arrived later that day from the hospital with some blankets that could be brought to the Quileutes and a fake trade opportunity. Mitch rationalized eventually that, since it was indeed winter, the blankets might be more readily accepted than he'd initially thought.
In the morning, Renesmee was on her way to Sokajili's tent but she was blindsided by Claire, her very own personal small violin and bow in hand, demanding her violin lesson for the day. Renesmee yelled to Sokajili, who was still in his tent with his small door open, that she'd come over later after she'd given Claire a few hours of violin lessons. Quil joined them, saying he'd fish while the two practiced. She started with checking if the instrument was in tune. Granted, they'd checked every lesson, but it was a way to get Claire used to checking if her instrument was in pitch. In the couple of days they'd been practicing, Claire was getting really good at checking the pitch of her instrument and even getting it in tune.
"Excellent," Renesmee said. "Now that we know we're in tone, let's practice our keys." Renesmee drew out an ascending scale for them to practice. She'd taught her this scale by plucking, so she decided they would use the bow.
Jacob was sitting with his father, mother and a few others around the fire skinning some rabbits for clothes. William wasn't normally one to engage in tasks such as skinning for clothes, but today he'd decided he needed the opportunity to speak with Jacob about his and Renesmee's rather frequent trips into the city.
"I've been meaning to speak to you, Jacob, about these trips you and Renesmee are taking to the city," William finally began after skinning the first rabbit.
"We always go in the middle of the night when few people are around. We haven't been seen."
"Yet," William emphasized. "I understand there are things she needs to procure from time to time that we simply don't have, but going to the city twice within two days?"
"That only happened because Claire really liked theViolin we were given by Janine," Jacob answered.
"That brings me to my next point of contention. You're interacting with a pale face from the city."
"She's kept our presence a secret all this time. If she really wanted the reward for Renesmee's return she would've gone to the authorities by now. She certainly wouldn't keep authorities distracted for us if she wanted that reward."
"There's a reward on Renesmee's head?!"William bellowed. Everyone looked at William a moment but immediately went back to their work. "A reward, Jacob and yet you still risk getting us all in trouble for a fewbooksand aviolin?!"
"I'm impressed you remembered both those words," Jacob said with a smile, though William was not the least bit amused.
"Not now, Jacob. I can't have the two of you going in and out of the city for trivial things, especially when Renesmee is a wanted woman."
"I must agree with your father on this matter. It's too risky to go into the city as often as the two of you do."
"I'll let her know, mom," Jacob answered.
"Good," William said. "If the two of you keep going into the city like that, we'll have pale faces marching in looking for her."
"They won't find her even if they do," Jacob answered back.
"You'd better hope so," William said. Having had his piece, William left the rest of the rabbits for Jacob to complete and for Sara to start breaking down.
Back at Forks, Mitch and Robert strapped all the blankets to the back of the cart and got ready to leave. The mayor saw them off, reminding Mitch that he wanted this little exploration to be as neutral as possible and make sure his intentions weren't obvious. Mitch agreed he would do what he could and brought the picture of the young woman with him. There was certainly no harm, he thought, in simply showing the picture and asking if they'd seen the young woman. Surely that couldn't be misinterpreted by them. Robert stayed quiet the whole cart ride to the tribe, as he always was. He hated going back and for good reason. Even spending a mere hour there was more than he could stand to do.
"Calm yourself down, Robert," Mitch said when they were nearly there, something he said to him every time. "We'll leave once we have what we want."
Jacob continued to skin rabbits and help his mother with other things while Renesmee remained at the beach with Claire. But then, Claire became very proud of herself for learning a new song and she started dancing around showing everyone the new song she'd learned. Renesmee and Quil followed behind her and smiled at her. As Claire played around with her violin, one of the children came running towards Jacob in a huff.
"Jacob!" the young boy yelled as he ran towards him. Jacob stood up and met the boy half way.
"What's wrong?"
"The meat monger! He's on his way!"
"What? Why? It's not salmon season? What does he want?"
"I don't know, but he's on his way!" Everyone came to attention, especially William. To him, it was his worst fears of the inevitable coming to be. Before Jacob did anything else, he went right to Renesmee and took a hold of her hand.
"Stay in the tent," he said. "Just stay in the tent until he leaves, alright?" Renesmee just nodded and followed behind him to their tent. She went inside and closed herself in.
With Renesmee out of sight, Jacob told everyone to get back to what they were doing. He didn't want the meat monger to suspect anything. Caevia stayed outside with the women preparing dinner. No one was looking for her. Before going to the Meat Monger, Jacob pulled Leah aside a moment to tell her not to let on that he knew English. They knew he didn't speak the language spring of last year and his grasp of English at present would undoubtedly seem suspicious. As Mitch and Robert rolled in, Mitch was met right away by Jacob, Leah (their translator) and William. Mitch smiled at them and stepped down from his cart, walking over to them to get the negotiations and, hopefully, some semblance of an investigation going.
"Good afternoon, Leah. How are you?" Mitch asked.
"Well," she answered flatly. "Why are you here? It's not salmon season."
"No, it's not, but I thought there might be something else I might interest you in given the current state of the weather." Mitch took a moment to move the horses around with the cart so the blankets were visible. "They're blankets!" he said.
"Really? I thought they were shoes," Leah bit back, but Mitch just chuckled.
"Snappy as ever Miss Jagger," Mitch called Leah by her father's last name. She said nothing in response. "Anyway, seeing as I'm sure blankets would do your people a great deal of good, I was hoping we might come to some sort of trade."
"Ask him what he wants for them," Jacob said to Leah.
"What were you looking to exchange for them?"
"Some furs perhaps?" he managed to remember the plausible request he'd thought up the night before.
"You want us to give you our warm furs in exchange for those thin pieces of clothe?" Leah asked.
"Now, now, I know they might not look like much, but any blankets are better than no blankets at all." Leah, despite wishing to snap back at him, chose not to mention they had plenty of blankets at their disposal. Renesmee was the one that had provided the blankets in question after all. "In fact, you don't even need to give us that much fur: just what fur you can spare."
"He said we don't need to give him much, just what we can spare," Leah said keeping up the facade that Jacob still didn't speak English.
Jacob stayed quiet and approached the cart to look at the blankets. He wasn't opposed to the idea of accepting the blankets, but he didn't trust the Meat Monger to be the man that provided these items.
"What do you think, father?" Jacob asked William.
"Do you smell anything wrong with them?"
"They smell dirty," he answered bluntly.
"He's telling them the blankets smell dirty," Robert said to Mitch.
"They smelled fine to me," Mitch sighed heavily.
"Ask them what these blankets were originally used for," William looked at Leah.
"No important where from," Robert said in his broken Quileute.
"Well, now I really want to know where they're from,"William said.
"Where are these blankets from?" Leah asked. Mitch took a moment to think whether he should try to lie or tell the truth. Last time he lied to Jacob about beef quality, the man nearly strangled him, so he opted to tell the truth.
"They were donated by the hospital," Mitch answered.
"They were given to him from theHospital,"Leah translated.
"Hospital?" William asked to Jacob's relief. He momentarily forgot he didn't speak English.
"It's a large space full of medicine men that treat the sick and dying."
"So they're trying to make us sick,"William said more than asked.
"That sounds about right," Jacob said before walking away from the cart of blankets. "We don't want them," he then said to Leah when he was back next to her and William.
"They said they don't want the blankets," Robert said to Mitch. "I say we just get to the real reason we're here."
"Robert," Mitch scolded the old man.
"And what would that reason be?" Leah asked with some aggression on behalf of Jacob especially. Mitch scratched his head a moment before reaching into his coat pocket and pulling out the picture he'd brought with him.
"The mayor has known for quite some time, or so I understand it, that a young woman has gone missing in Hoquiam." Jacob stayed stoic and he was proud that Leah managed not to look concerned either. Mitch unfolded the picture and showed it to the group, offering to allow them to see it. William took a deep breath when he saw the picture, determined to look as unfazed as the other two. "Her name is," Mitch turned the paper around so he could remember the name, "Renesmee Cullen Wallis. We weren't terribly concerned about it because it happened in Hoquiam. But evidently the mayor has received word that none of the tribes near them have seen her and the people looking for her couldn't find her anywhere in those tribes, dead or alive. We got a message asking we just look around."
"Are you trying to imply we kidnapped this girl?" Leah asked.
"No, not at all," Mitch said rather hurriedly. "I wanted to ask if you perhaps had seen her."
"He's asking if we've seen that girl," Leah translated more for William's benefit.
"Have we?" William directed his question to Jacob, who remained stone faced as before. He took a hold of the picture to look more carefully. He recognized the picture as the one he'd seen in the city. Below was listed her name, a false age, and a brief description of her appearance. The faded black and white didn't do her justice.
"I don't recognize her," Jacob directed right at the Meat Monger, handing back the picture.
"He said he doesn't recognize her," Robert translated.
"Would they mind terribly if we showed the picture to everyone? Someone here might have at least seen her," Mitch offered.
"You don't need to ask the whole tribe," Jacob blurted out without thinking. The words barely left his mouth when he started wishing them back. But rather than show any embarrassment, he stood tall and cold as ever.
"Since when..." Mitch drifted off. "Why didn't you say your spoke English?"
"You never asked," Jacob spat back.
"When did you learn English?" Robert asked suspiciously.
"I've been learning from her," Jacob pointed at Leah, hurrying for an excuse as to how he knew English.
"Well, I wished you'd said something," Mitch chuckled a little. "Considering you seem to rule the roost around here, it's easier to just speak to you in English."
"I don't rule the roost just yet," Jacob answered. Robert raised an eyebrow. Sure the man spoke some English, but he understood idioms too? It took Robert years to get the hang of idioms and Jacob certainly didn't speak English this past spring. Not a word.
"Of course," Mitch smiled. "Now, just because I know full well the mayor will want me to have done so, please permit me to allow everyone to see the picture of this young woman. I'm not doubting that you've not seen her, but perhaps someone here has." It was only then that the smallest glimpse of nervousness came upon Jacob's eyes, though the Meat Monger seemed blissfully unaware. Jacob took a moment to think. If he let the Meat Monger search, someone might inadvertently reveal that Renesmee was there. If he didn't let them look, it was suspicious.
"I suppose there's not harm in checking," Jacob finally answered. Leah tried desperately not to look gawk eyed at Jacob.
Caevia noticed the group begin to walk closer to the clearing where everyone was going about their day's work. Realizing what might be happening, she whispered to all the women around her, "Remember, Renesmee is not here. You don't know her or recognize her." Everyone nodded in agreement and Caevia crept away as quietly as possible to spread the word that no one was to know or recognize Renesmee. As they approached and Caevia was quietly waddling around, Robert took a good look at her. He didn't recognize that woman. He didn't know many of the Quileutes by name, but he certainly remembered most of them by face, not to mention skin tone. The woman was very clearly a deeper tan than anyone else there. Although tan, everyone's skin was a slightly pale tone compared to other well known tribes simply because it was hardly sunny enough in Washington to produce such a skin tone. This woman looked like she'd been out in the sun most of her life. The first group Jacob led them to was the group of women that were working on rabbits.
"Ladies," Mitch said politely before presenting the picture of Renesmee. "Would any of you happen to have seen this young woman since late summer?" Jacob opted to translate the question to the women and to his relief every one of them shook their heads and replied, "No."
"Who's that?" Robert said suddenly, pointing right at Caevia. Mitch looked at her and only then realized she was so tan. Perplexingly so.
"I don't believe I've seen her before."
"She was a gift," Jacob jumped in. "An ally of ours had obtained her somehow and they owed us a great debt, so they gave her to us as payment. She's been with us for several months and has since then married Embry."
"I certainly see the fruits of their labor," Mitch joked regarding Caevia's current state. Robert wasn't so amused, though. He knew for a fact that woman wasn't here during spring. She'd been here a few months, after spring obviously, but was here long enough to get married and be on route to having a baby. Something didn't feel quite right.
"Show her the picture. She might know something," Robert said.
"Ah, yes!" Mitch said. "If she's been moving around, she might have some information." This time, Jacob wasn't the least bit concerned. He knew Caevia wouldn't say anything. Mitch and Robert walked up to Caevia and greeted her. "Good morning."
"Good morning," Robert translated. Rather than admit to knowing English, Caevia opted to stay silent.
"Tell me miss," Mitch continued, "I've been informed that you've been traveling recently and I was hoping you might have an idea as to where this young woman is?" He presented the picture to her and Caevia looked at it closely while Robert translated the question. She recognized the picture too well, but she shook her head gently.
"No, I do not recognize her," she answered in Quileute. Robert looked at her strangely. Her accent was odd. It wasn't the sort of odd where someone who'd previously spoken a different language was learning a new one. It was the same language, but he knew it wasn't an accent, it was a dialect.
"Oh," Mitch said, disappointed. "I was hoping you at least would recognize her." Mitch and Robert walked away from the woman to speak with other tribesman. As they walked away, Jacob whispered a thank you to Caevia before following after the Meat Monger. They continued around showing the picture and everyone shook their head and claimed they did not recognize her. As the neared the water where Quil and Claire still were, Robert immediately noticed the little girl holding a violin. This time, Mitch noticed too. "She has a violin?" he asked, pointing at Claire.
"Is that what it's called?" Jacob answered.
"How did she get that?" Robert asked pointedly.
"I don't know," Jacob lied defensively. "She went out to play with her friends one day and she came back with that thing."
"And where did that violin come from? The sky?"
"Robert, stop it," Mitch said. Though he did also think it was strange that this little girl somehow had a violin that was small enough for a child no less, he also wanted to make sure they left without any trouble. He presented the picture to the two and Quil was the one that hurried to answer when Mitch asked if they'd seen Renesmee.
"We haven't seen this woman," Quil answered, especially before Claire could say a word.
Guessing that the men had been talking about her violin, Claire hid the instrument behind her back so they wouldn't see it anymore. Quil put his hand on Claire's head in an effort to alleviate any nervousness and to remind her that he was there.
"Next thing you know, you'll tell me she can play the damn thing," Robert said more to himself. Mitch said nothing this time.
"She plays around with it. Isn't that what anyone else would do with a new toy?" Leah asked.
"Well, a violin isn't necessarily a toy. It's an instrument. I'll show her if you'll permit me," Mitch offered.
"Since when do you play the violin?" Robert asked.
"I know a tone or two. I'm no expert, but I can at least show her a few things." Mitch began to approach Claire, but Quil took a hold of her heavy fur coat and pulled her behind him.
"He said he just wants to show her how to play a song," Jacob clarified.
"I don't trust him not to break it," Quil answered.
"They don't trust you not to break it," Robert said.
"I would never break a child's toy, Indian or otherwise," Mitch answered back. "Tell them I wouldn't," Mitch said to Robert, rather offended.
"He not break toy. He only teach song," Robert managed.
"You're speech sounds funny," Claire said off-handedly and it made the group chuckle.
"What are they laughing at?"
"Nothing," Robert mumbled back.
"Claire just noticed Robert's language skills are poor at best," Leah said, earning another laugh from the group.
"I certainly hope not," Mitch said attempting to be in on the joke. "He's my translator after all."
"He said he'd teach me a song?" Claire looked up at Quil bright eyed.
"Is that what he said?" Quil asked Jacob.
"Yes, that's what he said," Jacob answered. Having that confirmation, Claire tentatively walked around Quil and presented her tiny violin. Mitch accepted it and did what he'd always been taught to do: check the notes. To his surprise, it was perfectly toned and, on top of that, appeared brand new. There wasn't a single scratch anywhere to be found on the tiny instrument, nothing to indicate she'd found it in the woods. Finding a violin in the woods alone was unlikely enough. It was all the more so given that it was, indeed, a violin specially meant for a child.
"Teach me a pretty song," Claire asserted after the violin was in his hands.
"What did she say?" Mitch asked Jacob.
"She said to teach her a pretty song," Jacob answered. Mitch stared at Jacob a moment a little befuddled. So this child was aware it was an instrument, not a toy? Momentarily, Mitch disregarded it and did exactly as the little girl instructed. He played one of the few songs he knew: an old, upbeat country fiddle song he'd learned down south when he was young and he would travel with his father when slave trade was still legal. A smile came on the little girl's face and she started to clap and dance around. Claire's excitement was contagious and made Mitch start dancing while he played. Everyone looked on while the two danced together, unsure what to really make of the situation. The song was short and Mitch stopped dancing once he stopped playing.
"Let me try!" Claire yelled, reaching for her violin.
"What did she say?"
"She wants to try," Robert said. "Honestly, we come here to trade blankets and look for someone and you start fiddling with a child."
"Now, now, Robert, there's no harm in sharing music. You're being so sour today."
"I'm always sour when we're here."
"You could always make yourself useful and clean something," Leah answered back. She and Jacob snickered a little while Robert glared at them.
"Never again," he mumbled. Meanwhile, Claire took back her violin and took a moment to pluck all the strings. Mitch couldn't believe his ears when short little sounds emerged that mimicked the song he'd just played. When Claire had all the notes in her head, she put down the bow and moved along the neck of the violin slowly. The song wasn't nearly as fast, but it was the song Mitch had just played. This time, Robert wouldn't hold his tongue. "She's playing that awful well for a little girl that just found it in the woods. I dare say she sounds like she learned it from someone."
"Sometimes playing around with something is all it takes," Jacob hurried to explain, though with no attempt to hide any hostility. Then, Mitch decided it was time to leave.
"Well," he began nervously, "seeing as you do not wish to keep the blankets and seeing as no one here recognizes this young woman in the picture, I think it best if Robert and I went on our way."
"Since no one recognized the picture and we don't want the blankets, they're leaving," Jacob finally said to William, who'd spent most of the past half hour completely in the dark.
"It's about time," William mumbled, giving Jacob a very pointed look.
"My sentiments exactly, old man," Robert mumbled to himself. Rather suddenly in response, Jacob fisted his hand and punched Robert right against his chest. The old man fell back on his butt and Mitch took a surprised step back.
"You'll watch how you address my father you worthless cuss," Jacob hissed back.
Claire stepped right back behind Quil after the blow and Mitch did his best to recover from the shock. Robert, meanwhile, was trying to catch his breath. At this point, he feared Jacob may have induced a heart attack.
"Let's try to stay calm," Mitch finally managed as he went to Robert and helped him off the ground. "Thank you for your assistance today. Are you sure you do not wish to keep the blankets? You won't even have to give us anything in return. Just think of them as a thank you for confirming the young woman isn't here."
"They're offering to let us have the blankets for nothing in exchange. What do you want to do?" Jacob asked William.
"What was that punch all about?" William asked, ignoring Jacob's question.
"He called you an old man," Jacob answered. "Now the blankets. What are we doing?"
"You said they only smelled dirty? Was there anything else wrong with them?"
"I didn't smell anything suspicious. They just smell like they need to be cleaned. If we just submerge them in boiling water for a while, I'm sure they'll be alright. Keep them by a hot fire to dry them and they can be ready tomorrow."
"Tell him we'll take them, then. Given you punched the Meat Monger's pet dog, the least we can do is accept the sheets."
"Pet dog?!" Robert huffed.
"What's going on?"
"They called me your pet dog," Robert wheezed.
"I mean about the blankets, Robert!" Mitch asked nervously.
"They said they'd take them," Robert answered, trying to catch his breath.
"Good," Mitch chuckled awkwardly. "Let's get back to my cart and I'll give those over."
Mitch took Robert by the arm quickly led him back to the cart towards the beginnings of the village. By the time they returned to the cart, Robert was breathing normally again, but he suffered a frightful headache. Leah, Jacob and William took the blankets from the cart and brought them to the fire for cleaning without a single word. Mitch resounded to the horse to move and they bolted like bats out of hell.
"You should watch your strength, Jacob. You might've killed that old man with that punch. If you did that, we'd have the whole town of Forks screaming for our blood."
"I doubt they'd even notice," Jacob quipped back. "Let's just boil these until they don't stink anymore." When all the blankets were placed on the ground next to the group making food, William instructed them that the blankets were to be boiled as long as possible and dried next to the fire, and then distributed to everyone in the tribe. While William made his instructions, Jacob went back to his tent, finding Renesmee just where he'd left her.
"Are they gone?"
"Yeah, they're gone. They were looking for you actually." He saw Renesmee shiver a bit and bite her lip. "Everyone agreed they'd never seen you before. They're non-the-wiser. And we got free blankets out of it," Jacob smiled.
"In this weather, there's no such thing as too many blankets," Renesmee managed to smile. "I overheard William saying they needed to be cleaned."
"Yeah, they do. I was going to help with that if you cared to join me." Renesmee smiled and accepted Jacob's hand. They both went outside and helped with cleaning the sheets.
Mitch and Robert had the horses running the whole way back to town. Mitch insisted on dropping Robert off at the physician's office so he could take a look at Robert's chest and make sure he wouldn't drop dead from that punch Jacob had issued. After dropped Robert off at the doctor's, he bolted for the Mayor's office. He let himself into the tiny office building and walked up to the young man sitting at the front desk.
"Is the Mayor available?"
"I'll go check for you," the young man answered. "This is concerning your search of the Quileute reservation I assume?"
"Yes, it is." The young man nodded and walked towards an office near the back of the hall. He knocked on the door, announcing that Mitch was back from searching the reservation. The young man was silent a moment before walking over and sitting back at his desk.
"The Mayor will see you," he answered.
"Thank you." Mitch walked towards the Mayor's office and let himself in. The Mayor was sitting at his desk, rather ill at ease.
"So? What happened?" he asked.
"Quite a bit, I must say."
"Was the young woman actually there?" the Mayor asked, alarmed.
"No, I didn't find her and no one recognized her. But while I was walking around, Robert and I noticed some things that we both thought were rather…..oh, how do I put this? Odd," he said.
"Odd? What do you mean odd?"
"Well, first of all, the chief's son speaks English now."
"He does? Since when? Last I heard, Robert was telling you the man refused to learn English and considered it a…what was the term Robert used? A useless language?"
"Those are Miss Jagger's words at least, I know that for sure. But I guess he had a change of heart and learned English. And let me tell you, save for the accent, he sounds like he's been speaking English longer than just a couple of months since we were last there."
"Do you suppose Miss Jagger taught him English?"
"I suppose she must have, but somehow that sounds unlikely. She has a rather low opinion of us white people. Not that I can blame the poor girl."
"Poor girl? She shot her father point blank! She'd have been hung at the gallows like the criminal she is were it not for the tribe refusing to give her over."
"With all due respect, sir, Hugo Jagger was a heavy drinker and a violent one when he got going. You remember that just as well as any of us. And that little girl adored her father. I highly doubt that poor girl would harm a hair on that man's head, may he rest in peace, without having a damn good reason. He almost certainly got violent and threatened hers and Seth's safety, not to say anything of killing their mother. Why else would a child shoot their father except in self-defense?"
"It's beyond the point, regardless. I'm surprised you stand up for them so given they evidently think so little of you."
"I'm not defending the Quileutes, I'm defending Leah Jagger, whether she likes being referred by her birth name or not. She was a sweet little girl. It breaks my heart she's had to suffer what she's suffered."
"We're straying from the point, Mitch. What else happened that you thought was odd?"
"There's a new woman there now that I've never seen before. She's much more…..tan then the others."
"She's black?"
"No, she's not black. She's certainly Indian, but she's darker than the others. She looks like those Indians down south near Nevada and Arizona."
"How do you suppose she came to live with them if she's from so far away?"
"I could only assume through trade. I know slavery practice isn't unheard of in some of the tribes down south especially. I can only imagine she's been traded here and there until she came upon the Quileutes. One of them married her at the very least."
"Okay," the Mayor rubbed his chin. Then he took a moment to look at the message he was sent from Sgt. Lovejoy regarding the woman they were looking for. "It says here, Mrs. Wallis had a slave that was darker of skin, but Indian, not black and she's said to come from the southern tribes." The Mayor looked at Mitch again. "You're certain this woman you saw was of a southern race?"
"It's the only conclusion I can come to. Even so, how would the Quileutes possibly get a hold of her and Mrs. Wallis?"
"You said so yourself: slave trade is not unheard of among Indians. Perhaps Mrs. Wallis was taken by a local tribe and she's just been shuttled around since then."
"Perhaps, but the closest tribes to the Quileutes are the Hou and the Makka. As far as Indians further south from here, they're too far away to have any kind of active trade relationship."
"How would they have obtained the darker skinned woman then?"
"I couldn't tell you, sir," Mitch answered honestly. "One of the little girls was carrying around a violin."
"A what?" the Mayor asked, a little stunned.
"A violin, sir. I showed her how to play a little song and she was able to find the notes I'd used."
"I wonder if good Mrs. Wallis happens to know how to play the violin," the Mayor mumbled. "I don't really know what to say."
"Nor do I," Mitch answered. "I know it all seems suspicious, but I just can't think of how they would end up with Mrs. Wallis in their possession. Honestly, this woman was abducted from Hoquiam!"
"It's not important how they got her. What is important is it looks like they might have her."
"I'm not going back there to search again. They would eat us alive."
"I know," the Mayor affirmed. "I have no intention of sending you back there. I'll sent a telegram to Sgt. Lovejoy advising that she might be at the Quileute Reservation and list reasons we suspect so. That's all the more we can do."
"Well, if she is there, she's likely long dead. No one recognized her."
"They were probably lying," the Mayor observed. "You can never trust those red devils." He stood from his desk, "I'm going to message Sgt. Lovejoy. Until then, we're not to go back to the reservation. With any luck it'll take time for Sgt. Lovejoy to get here and they'll have long forgotten about your little impromptu investigation."
"I wouldn't count on it, sir. I'm afraid our trading relationship will go down the drain after this."
"We'll find other ways to get salmon, then. You can leave now."
Mitch left the office as the Mayor walked to his little telegraph in the corner of the room to message Sgt. Lovejoy. Back down in Neilton while Lovejoy and his men were enjoying dinner downstairs with the priest and his wife, a gentleman from the post office came running with a telegram in his hand. He handed it to Agt. Lovejoy, who proceeded to read it and obtained a bright smile.
"What is it, sir?" Mitchell asked. But Lovejoy stepped away from the table and went right upstairs, leaving the man from the post office to explain the contents of the telegram. Sgt. Lovejoy let himself into the tiny bedroom and saw Peter reading solemnly.
"Cheer up, Mr. Wallis. I have good news." Peter looked up at him after a moment of recovering from the shock of Lovejoy barging into the room. "We've finally found the infamous Mrs. Wallis."
"Wait, someone found her?" Peter stood from his chair, dropping his book to the side. "Where is she?! Is she alright?"
"Fork's Mayor says he sent someone to the Quileute Reservation and they saw some rather suspicious things that led them to believe a white woman might be in their midst. Pack your things Mr. Wallis. Rain or shine, we leave tomorrow!"