Love Letters: A Frodo Investigates! Mystery by Kathryn Ramage

Fatty came by the next morning while they were at breakfast. Frodo was opening the mail Rosie had forwarded from Bag End--and one letter that Milo had sent directly to him at the Inn.

"I got your note last night, Frodo," Fatty said as he took a seat at Frodo's table and helped himself to a piece of toast. "Do I understand it correctly? You want me to find one of Val's friends who was with him on the day his wife disappeared?"

"Yes, that's right." Frodo poured his cousin a cup of tea. "I looked through your notes yesterday and noticed that the same names are mentioned again and again. Val seems to have a small circle of companions he goes about with nearly every day, and I wouldn't be surprised if this same group were with him that evening."

"They might not be willing to answer your questions, Frodo, not if it'd put Val in a bad light." Fatty regarded him with interest. "And I expect that just what you hope to do, isn't it?"

"I have an idea, and I'd like it confirmed or disputed," Frodo replied rather cryptically. "There are also one or two other odd little matters in this case that need to be cleared up." He was pale this morning with purplish shadows under his eyes, but there was a cool, business-like grimness in his manner. He meant to finish this as quickly as he could.

Fatty was not the only one who was interested in Frodo's plans; Sam, who sat at Frodo's side, and Merry, Pippin, and Ilbie at another table nearby, were also listening.

"Well..." Fatty considered the problem and helped himself to more toast. "I'm on better terms with some of Val's friends than others. Luddy Binglebottom might do. If he wasn't with Val that night, he'd know who was. He's the only one of the lot I might call a friend of mine as well and he might agree to talk to you, Frodo, but he lives in Whitfurrows."

"I intend to go there today in any case," Frodo answered. "Why don't you come along and introduce me to Mr. Binglebottom? Whitfurrows is only two miles away. I couldn't go much farther than that myself. Sam won't allow it, after my bad turn last night." He reached out to put one hand over Sam's before he realized that Fatty and Ilbie might wonder about this overly-familiar gesture--but, if either noticed, they didn't seem to think anything of it.

Fatty said, "I heard you weren't well, Frodo. That must have been quite a tea-party at the Stillwaters' yesterday, with you coming away sick and 'Stella falling over in a faint." He smiled wryly, for Estella had told him about the 'distraction' she had provided for Frodo. The boys at the other table, who had also heard this story, grinned. "If you're sure you're feeling up to it, and your Sam doesn't object, a trip to Whitfurrows isn't too much to ask of me. Shall we go before luncheon? The Beeshive serves a very nice lunch."

Frodo agreed to this and, as he finished his last cup of tea, read Milo's letter, which confirmed what the innkeeper had told him: Mr. Bilbury had been away from home for two days at the beginning of the month.

Mr. Bilbury came into the breakfast room a few minutes later. "Mr. Baggins, good morning! I missed you at dinner last night. Your friend here said you were taken ill after yesterday's tea." He studied Frodo's face, but could not doubt the claim of illness. "Are you quite recovered?"

"I am feeling better, thank you."

"Will you speak with me now, about- ah-?" He was reluctant to be more specific with so many young hobbit-lads and the innkeeper's daughter in the room.

"Yes, I will," Frodo consented and put down his letter.

He went with Mr. Bilbury to another table near the window, where the innkeeper's daughter had put down a pot of fresh tea for the older hobbit, and went out to the kitchen to fetch his breakfast. Merry and Pippin left to enjoy their day's holiday, and Ilbie went to see Estella. Sam finished his breakfast and Fatty finished the toast.

"Will you answer a few questions for me as well, Mr. Bilbury?" Frodo asked as they sat down. "I'd like to clear up a point or two that have been puzzling me."

"Of course..." Mr. Bilbury answered reluctantly. "What do you want to know?"

"You've been here before," said Frodo, "not for your niece's wedding, but more recently. About two weeks ago, as a matter of fact. August 5th, I believe."

"It was the 6th, actually," said Mr. Bilbury, but his face had gone red. "How did you know? Our good innkeeper must have told you."

"Mr. Noakes merely told me what I'd already guessed. I've had information from other sources as well. May I ask why you came? Did Camellia write and ask you to meet her here?"

"She did." Mr. Bilbury was still red-faced and reluctant. "She never wrote a word about- well, about that boy, but she said she wanted to come home for an extended stay and was bringing her personal belongings, more than a bag or two. Rue and I suspected Cammie had quarreled with her husband, but we refused to believe there was anything more behind it.

"I came, as Cammie asked. I waited here for her to arrive, just as she said she would. She asked me not to go to Stillwater Hall. I would have, when she didn't come by dinner-time, but it was then that some of local folk came in and I happened to overhear their gossip. They were saying that the young lady at the Hall had gone missing that morning. I thought- Well, I didn't like to consider the idea, but I couldn't help thinking-"

"You thought she'd changed her mind and, rather than return home to you and Mrs. Bilbury, went away with 'that boy'," Frodo finished the sentence for him.

Mr. Bilbury blustered and turned very red again at hearing this spoken aloud, but in the end, he had to admit that it was what he'd believed. "I didn't dare tell Rue," he said. "It would break her heart. I told her that Cammie had been detained and was coming by herself afterwards. Poor Rue watched for her to come, but it was better than her learning the truth. Better she think the poor child had some sort of accident along the way. Well, with all the neighbors talking, she'll have to hear the worst sooner or later. Cammie has flown with him, hasn't she, Mr. Baggins? It's what you've found out--I know it's so."

"Actually, I've found out something very different," Frodo told him. "Your niece is not with Rolo Bindbole. I'm certain of that."

Mr. Bilbury looked momentarily relieved, then a new look of concern clouded his face. "Then where-?"

"I'm afraid I can't tell you her exact whereabouts yet," Frodo said. "I have a few inquiries to make today that should settle the matter entirely, and then I will be able to explain to you what's happened to Camellia. You must brace yourself for some sad news." Given Mr. Bilbury's attitude, he wondered if the truth would be more welcome than thinking that she had abandoned her husband to live adulterously with Rolo. "I hope to visit the Stillwaters this afternoon. Will you join me then?"
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