Gathering Shadows

by Nancy Mehl

  As if confirming my fear, she walked straight to me, not even acknowledging Reuben. “Deputy Gleason told me he would be questioning you about what happened to August,” she said.

  “I . . . I didn’t—”

  “Oh, honey. I know you didn’t have anything to do with August’s death. That’s the goofiest thing I ever heard.” She smiled at me, but I could see the sadness in her eyes. “I’m a pretty good judge of people. You’re a good woman. I knew it the first time I met you.” She pointed her stubby finger at Reuben. “And that’s what I told Paul Gleason. That he was wasting valuable time bothering this young lady when he should be looking for August’s killer.”

  “I agree with you,” Reuben said. “He says he has some papers that somehow tie Wynter to August. I can’t imagine what he’s talking about.”

  “Me either.”

  I pointed to the couch. “Do you have a few minutes, Rae? I’d like to ask you a couple of questions, if you don’t mind.”

  She nodded. “A little diversion would be welcome right now.”

  “First of all, I want you to know how sorry I am for your loss. I understand you and August were close.”

  She lowered her thick body down onto the couch. “He was a little different. Hard to get to know, but underneath that aloof exterior was a good heart.” She wiped away a tear that escaped her eye. “We talked about getting married, but I’m just too independent. Couldn’t see myself living with a man tellin’ me what to do. Being single, I could take or leave August’s advice. But once we said ‘I do,’ it would be a different story.” She sniffed. “Now I wish I’d made a different choice. Somehow, it would make everything a little easier.”

  Reuben sat down. “Rae, do you have any idea at all what Paul’s talking about? What kind of papers would he have that could incriminate Wynter?”

  She clasped her work-worn hands together and stared at them, shaking her head. When she looked up, her expression was pensive. “August was a good man,” she began, “but he was a conspiracy nut, always seeing demons behind doorways.”

  “Did he believe someone in Sanctuary was involved in kidnapping babies from hospitals?”

  “Oh, dear.” She bit her lip and hesitated. “Look,” she said finally, “August had friends, people who cared for him. But sometimes I think he felt . . . unimportant. He loved to read up on stories about unsolved crimes. Always had an opinion about them. He ate up those crime shows on TV. Fancied himself an amateur detective. He was constantly calling the police about something. You know that tip line in St. Louis?”

  “Crime Stoppers?” I asked.

  “Yes, that’s it. Well, one of his special cases had to do with babies being taken from Missouri hospitals. He decided someone in Sanctuary was involved.”

  “Did he say who?” Reuben asked.

  Rae shook her head. “No. I told him I had no intention of listening to him accuse one of our friends or neighbors of something so awful, so he kept that information to himself.” She gave Reuben a sad smile. “August was abandoned as a baby, you see. His great-aunt raised him only because she felt she had to. It wasn’t a happy home. He never got over it. I think the story about stolen babies touched something deep inside him.”

  Reuben glanced over at me. It was obvious that if my father hadn’t taken me from the hospital on the night I was born, I might have suffered August’s fate—being raised by someone who didn’t really love me. Suddenly I felt a connection to August.

  “Why are you asking me about this?” Rae said. “How did you hear about August’s obsession with that story?”

  I told her about the newspaper articles sent to me, and I mentioned that my father also received a troubling note in the mail, although I didn’t tell her what the note said.

  “I can see why he gave you those stories,” she said slowly. “You’re a reporter. I’m sure he planned to contact you about them after you had a chance to look them over. But how would he know your father? I doubt August had anything to do with that.”

  “You might be right. It was just odd that both things happened right around the same time.”

  “When did your father get his letter?”

  “About a week ago.”

  “Before you came to town? That doesn’t make sense.”

  “Actually, we contacted Martha over at the library two weeks before we arrived. There was certainly time to send the note to my dad.”

  Rae shook her head. “But as I said, August didn’t know your father.”

  “Paul said he had both of my names in his billfold. It wouldn’t have been difficult to find out who my father was if you had my real name.”

  Rae’s eyebrows shot up. “Your real name?”

  I nodded. “I use a different name in my job.”

  Before Rae had a chance to respond, Zac came into the room.

  “I thought you were helping Esther,” Reuben said.

  “I’ve been summarily dismissed. Although Esther is too nice to say it, I think she concluded I’m hopeless in the kitchen.”

  Realizing that Rae and Zac hadn’t met, I quickly introduced them.

  “Nice to meet you, young man,” she said. “I heard you had a pretty bad case of food poisoning. I’m glad to see you’re on the road to recovery.”

  Zac nodded. “I’m still not sure what I’m recovering from. The sickness or the cure.”

  Rae looked confused, and Reuben told her about Esther’s remedy.

  Rae laughed. “My mother used the same thing on my sister and me whenever we got sick. Sure keeps you from faking illness to stay home from school.”

  “I hear you,” Zac said with a sigh. “Am I interrupting anything?”

  “No, not at all,” I said. “We were just talking about August.”

  Zac sat down in the chair near the couch. “I heard you were close,” he said to Rae. “I’m sorry.”

  She waved her hand at him. “Thank you, Zac. I appreciate that.”

  “So you don’t think August sent that note to Wynter’s father?” Reuben asked, steering us back to our previous conversation.

  “I have no problem believing August sent you the stories about those kidnappings, but I don’t believe he sent that note. My guess is that someone who knows you well enough to know your real name sent it.”

  I nodded. When Ryan disappeared, there were a lot of letters sent to my family. Most of them were kind, people showing compassion and telling us they were praying for us, but many weren’t nice at all. My parents didn’t show me the letters at the time, but my mother told me about them years later. Several were written by people who accused my parents of child abuse, believing that if they’d kept a closer eye on my brother, he wouldn’t have been kidnapped. A few were sent by religious nuts claiming we were being punished for our sins. There were quite a few with supposed tips as to who had taken Ryan. The FBI checked them all out, but none of them yielded results. Maybe this new note was from someone trying to stir up the past for their own twisted enjoyment. Like Rae said, some nut that recognized my father’s name and decided to torment him.

  “Well, at least this explains the newspaper clippings,” Reuben said. “But why does Paul think Wynter had some kind of connection with his death?”

  “Again, just conjecture,” Rae said, her forehead wrinkled with thought, “but maybe Paul found something in August’s apartment with your name on it, Wynter. Along with notes about some of his other theories. August had a hard time keeping his thoughts in order. He could have written something that sounded ominous when it wasn’t meant that way at all.” She shrugged. “That’s my best guess. Honestly, I wouldn’t worry about it. There’s no way they can tie you into what happened to August. I’m just sorry you have to deal with this. You and your family have been through enough.”

  “Thank you,” I said. “I really appreciate your taking the time to come and talk to me. I know you’re trying to cope with your own grief. I’m praying they’ll find the real person responsible.”

  “Me too,” Ra
e said, shaking her head.

  “You’re staying for dinner, aren’t you?”

  “Better tell Esther we’ll have two extra,” Reuben said. “Your father will probably be hungry when he gets here.”

  “I don’t know where he called from. Not sure when he’ll get in.”

  “Thank you for asking,” Rae said, “but to be honest, I need to be alone right now. Maybe some other time.”

  I doubted there would be any other time, since I planned to leave town as soon as possible, but I smiled and nodded. We said our good-byes and Rae left. Just as she closed the door behind her, Esther came out of the kitchen.

  “Dinner’s almost ready,” she said. “Was that Rae leaving?”

  “She’s not really in a social mood right now, I guess.”

  “Poor thing,” Esther said with a sigh.

  “Something smells great,” Reuben said.

  “Trust me. It looks even better than it smells,” Zac said. “I’m starving.”

  Reuben smiled at him. “I’m glad to hear you’re hungry. You really are feeling better.”

  Zac flashed him a crooked grin. “No human being can resist Esther’s cooking.”

  “Help me get the dishes to the table, Zac,” Esther said, “and we’ll get started.”

  “So I’ve been reduced from chef to waiter?”

  She nodded. “Guess I wasn’t a good enough teacher.”

  “Don’t give up on me. You might make a cook out of me yet.”

  She gave him a quick hug, and I was surprised to see her eyes flush with tears. “Wish I could, but soon you’ll be far away, living in the big city. You’ll forget Sanctuary . . . and me.”

  Zac caught her by the arm as she turned to go back to the kitchen.

  “No, Esther. I won’t. If you’ll let me, I’ll come to visit. Maybe even stay the weekend sometimes, if that’s okay.”

  The look on Esther’s face tore at my heart. “I would love that, Zac. I get lonely rattling around in this old house.”

  “I’ll be back,” he said. “You have my word.”

  She dabbed at her eyes with her apron and nodded. “We’d better get that food on the table before it’s cold.”

  I caught Zac’s eye before he left the room and smiled. The change in him was like night and day. It was amazing. This town had changed me too. I just wasn’t sure how. It seemed I’d come to Sanctuary sure of myself and who I was. But now I wasn’t certain of anything.

  We all gathered in the dining room. Esther had made chicken fried steaks with mashed potatoes and gravy. Fresh green beans, a mixed-fruit salad, and biscuits hot from the oven rounded out our meal. I split a steak with Esther. It was delicious, but I wasn’t really hungry and chose to concentrate on the fruit. When I got back to St. Louis, it was back to salads, fruit, and yogurt. Sanctuary wasn’t having a good effect on my waistline. My jeans definitely felt tighter.

  We finished the meal with strawberry shortcake, one of my very favorite desserts. After helping her clean up the kitchen, Reuben and I decided to carry our coffee out to the front porch so we could wait for my dad. Esther went to her room to knit for a while and then go to bed. Zac also retired to his room. He was definitely on the mend, but I could see the weariness in his face. Food poisoning obviously took a heavy toll on a body.

  Reuben and I sipped our coffee and rocked back and forth in the semidarkness, the only light coming from inside the house. We left the porch light off because it would draw bugs. Cicadas sang in the dark. Some people found their songs annoying. They reminded me of summer nights sitting on my grandmother’s front porch, and the sound soothed me.

  “You haven’t told Zac what we found out at Samuel’s,” Reuben said.

  “I know. I couldn’t find an appropriate moment. I’ll fill him in tomorrow.” I sighed. “To be honest, I don’t really want to tell him. Saying the words out loud makes it too real. I was so hopeful I’d finally found Ryan.”

  “I know, Wynter. I’m sorry. I really am.”

  “I can’t imagine what my dad thinks is so important I have to wait up for him,” I said. “I’m so tired. What could he have learned in Jamesport that would make any difference? I’m ready to let this go. Why isn’t—”

  Approaching lights from a car cut off the rest of my sentence. My dad pulled up in front of us and got out of the car.

  “Thanks for waiting up for me,” he said as he approached the porch. Even in the dim light I could make out the concern on his face.

  “Sure,” I said, “but as I told you, we know Elijah isn’t Ryan.”

  He came up and stood in front of us. “And how do you know that?”

  “We actually saw his birth certificate,” Reuben said. “That leaves little doubt.”

  Dad leaned against the porch railing. “Well, you might be right under normal circumstances.”

  “What are you talking about, Dad?”

  “I talked to a lot of people in Jamesport. For the most part they were pretty closemouthed. Couldn’t find out much. But as I was getting ready to leave town, a woman sought me out. Wanted to know if I was the man asking questions about the Fishers. When I told her I was, she asked to speak to me privately.”

  “How did she know them?” I said.

  “This woman, Ruth Yoder, lived next door to the Fishers while they were in Jamesport.”

  “You asked her about Elijah?”

  My dad grunted. “Didn’t really have to. She was desperate to share something that had been bothering her for years.”

  I couldn’t see that what this woman had to say would change anything. Elijah was the Fishers’ son. Birth certificates don’t lie.

  “So what did she have to say?” Reuben asked. I could hear confusion in his voice. It was clear he was thinking the same thing I was.

  “Ruth told me that the Fishers suddenly left Jamesport after suffering a tragedy. Ruth wanted to stay in touch, but she couldn’t find them. About three years after they took off, she ran into someone who had seen them. With their son, Elijah.”

  “So?” I was beginning to get a little impatient with my father. Tomorrow promised to be stressful, and I wanted nothing more than to get some sleep.

  “What was the tragedy?” Reuben asked.

  My father took a deep breath before saying, “The death of their only child. Elijah.”

  Chapter

  Twenty-One

  I stared at my father, not certain I’d heard him correctly. “Did you say—?”

  “Yes, Emily. The death of their son. Seems Elijah Fisher was walking home from school and some drunk hit him, killed him.”

  I was trying to process my father’s words, but my mind had gone blank. What did this mean?

  “The Fishers lied to us,” Reuben said.

  “If all they did was show you Elijah’s birth certificate, they didn’t lie,” Dad said. “They just didn’t tell you the whole story.”

  “What does this mean?” I asked. “Does it mean . . . ?”

  “Yes, Emily,” Dad said, his voice breaking. “It means that Elijah is probably Ryan. It’s possible you’ve found your brother.”

  I couldn’t stop the tears that cascaded down my cheeks. After all these years, we’d found Ryan? “Wait a minute,” I said, wiping my face with the back of my hand. “I’ll bet Nathan’s told his brother that we’re looking for them.”

  “But I’m certain they also assured them they had nothing to worry about,” Reuben said. “That they’d convinced you Elijah was their natural child.”

  “What will they do?” I asked. “Will they run farther away, or do you think they might come home?”

  “Hard to say,” Dad said, his voice heavy with emotion, “but I don’t want to take any chances. We need to contact the authorities now. It’s time.”

  “We don’t need any kind of massive manhunt,” I said. “That would send them somewhere we’d never find them.”

  “What are you thinking?” Reuben asked.

  “Let’s talk to Paul. Lay everything
out and ask him to help us search for the Fishers quietly. We’ll have a better chance of finding them that way.”

  “Who is Paul?”

  “Sorry. He’s a deputy sheriff. A friend of Reuben’s.”

  “I don’t know, Emily,” Dad said. “You want to bring in one deputy sheriff? Don’t we need as much help as we can get?”

  I shook my head. “I’ve been around this kind of stuff for a few years now, Dad. Reported on missing person cases. Abducted children. Many times the police don’t put information out right away because they need an advantage.”

  “Maybe that’s what they’ll do this time.”

  “Can’t count on it. I’ve seen it go the other way too, and sometimes it ends badly.”

  “Once you tell Paul what’s going on, it will be out of your hands, you know. He may not be willing to do things your way.”

  “I think he’ll listen,” Reuben said. “First of all, he’s a good man who will see this is the right way to go. Besides, I doubt he’ll accept our word about Elijah immediately. That should keep him from sounding an alarm for no reason.”

  Reuben’s logic made sense. I prayed he was right. We were so close. Losing Ryan now was something I couldn’t allow.

  “Do you really think this deputy sheriff has what it takes to find them?” My father sounded skeptical.

  “You can trust Paul,” Reuben said. “He’s like a dog with a bone when it comes to solving cases. Everyone expects him to be the next sheriff of Madison County.”

  Dad was silent as he mulled over our suggestions. “Okay,” he said finally, “but I’m still a little reluctant to do it this way.”

  “Look, if Paul doesn’t find them by tomorrow evening, we’ll call out the cavalry,” I said. “But stealth is our friend right now.”

  “All right. Will he come to us or do we need to go to him?”

  “I’ll call him right now,” Reuben said, rising from his rocking chair. “Let me see what he wants to do.”

  I sighed. “He’ll probably think I’m making this up to get out from being under suspicion.”