Gathering Shadows

by Nancy Mehl

  Zac shrugged. “There are other jobs. I’m not worried. But I’m sorry for you. I know you were counting on that anchor spot.”

  I smiled at him. “As strange as it sounds, it doesn’t seem very important anymore.”

  “What if we don’t find Ryan by Friday?”

  “Then you’ll go back, and I’ll take whatever punishment Ed thinks is right.”

  “You know I’m not going anywhere, right? I’ve come too far with this thing to bail out now.”

  “He’ll probably fire you.”

  “Then he fires me. I’m not leaving.”

  At that moment the door opened and Reuben walked in, my dad on his heels. “Paul’s not here yet?”

  “Not yet.”

  Esther came into the room and greeted Reuben and Dad. “How about some breakfast?” she asked.

  Zac jumped to his feet. “Sounds good to me.”

  I laughed. “Food always sounds good to you.”

  He gave me a quick wink. “As long as it’s not Italian or anything chocolate.”

  My dad looked confused, and I shot Zac a warning look. Since we really didn’t know if there was something wrong with the fudge, I couldn’t see bringing it up to Dad. If he thought someone had tried to poison me, he might decide I needed protection. And right now, I didn’t want to deal with an overprotective father.

  “No Italian food or chocolate on the menu,” Esther said with a smile, “but I have some nice biscuits with sausage gravy.”

  Zac patted his flat stomach. “Just what the doctor ordered.”

  We followed Esther into the dining room and sat down at the table. Esther nodded at my father. “Would you lead us in prayer, Lyndon?”

  I expected my father to refuse, but to my surprise he bowed his head. “Father, we thank you for this food and for the warm hospitality of this house. We pray blessings back on this gracious lady, and we ask for your help in finding the truth about my son. Please forgive us for our past weaknesses and mistakes and restore that which was lost. Thank you for second chances. In the name of Jesus we pray. Amen.”

  I had to blink away tears. I’d forgotten that my father used to pray every night at dinner before Ryan went missing. Hearing him again brought back a flood of memories. Good ones. Memories I’d pushed into the recesses of my mind.

  “Thank you, Lyndon,” Esther said. “That was lovely.”

  “Yes. Yes, it was,” I said softly.

  Dad’s small smile told me he was pleased that his prayer had touched me.

  “Zac tells me your deputy sheriff friend is coming over this morning,” Esther said to Reuben. “Does it have anything to do with August’s death?”

  “Not really,” I said. “Remember when I first came here and you asked me if I was missing anyone?”

  Esther nodded. “Yes, you mentioned your brother. I’ve been praying you would find him again. Does your friend know where he is?”

  “It’s possible. He’s following a lead. I hope you’ll keep praying for us.”

  Esther smiled. “I certainly will. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if you found your brother after all these years?”

  “Yes. Yes, it would.”

  Reuben glanced at his watch. “Paul should have been here by now.”

  “Maybe he’s doing some investigating on his own,” I said.

  Reuben frowned. “Maybe, but he’s always been pretty prompt. I hope nothing’s wrong.”

  I wanted to tell Reuben, my dad, and Zac what I’d found during my time on the computer last night, but with Esther in the room, I wasn’t sure I could. We’d only been eating a few minutes when she got to her feet.

  “Please forgive me,” she said, “but I need to get a couple of pies in the oven for tonight. If I don’t do it now, they won’t be set by supper.”

  I nodded at her. “What about your breakfast?”

  She pointed at her almost empty plate. “I must confess the truth, I suppose. I had two biscuits before you came downstairs.” She wrinkled her nose, tickled by her admission. “I couldn’t possibly eat another bite.”

  Zac chuckled. “If I’d been in the kitchen with you, there wouldn’t have been a bite left to serve.”

  “Please, Esther,” I said, “do whatever you need to do. We can manage by ourselves. We’ll take the dishes into the kitchen when we’re done.”

  “Thank you, Wynter. I appreciate that.” She left the table and went into the kitchen.

  Grateful for the chance to share my findings but aware Paul could arrive any minute, I quickly explained about my research into Marian Belker. “I found something very interesting,” I said, keeping my voice down. “Dad, you said Mac told you he was with Marian when she died?”

  He nodded. “Yes.”

  “Well, that’s interesting because I used the station’s account and searched through Social Security records. There’s no documentation that shows a Marian Belker dying in Missouri around the time Mac first contacted you.”

  Dad frowned. “Maybe they weren’t living in Missouri.”

  I shook my head. “You said her middle name was Rose, right?”

  “Yes. I remember that specifically because she first introduced herself as Rose. But when I wrote her the check, she asked me to make it out to Marian, since that was her first name and Rose was her middle name.”

  “There’s no record of any Marian Rose Belker dying during the years in question.”

  “I don’t understand,” Dad said slowly. “Mac said—”

  “Mac lied, Dad,” I said. “I have no idea why. Maybe Marian told him what happened, and he used it against you without her knowledge.”

  “Or maybe Mac was working with her,” Reuben said. “Perhaps the person really behind the blackmailing scheme was Marian.”

  My father shook his head. “Call me naïve, but it just doesn’t fit with the woman I met that night in the hospital. At first she didn’t even want the money. I had to talk her into it. I would swear she was more concerned with giving you a good home, Emily.”

  “People change, Dad. Maybe she decided the money was important after all.”

  I could see Dad turning this idea over in his head, but he wasn’t having an easy time of it.

  “Well, here’s something else,” I said. “While I was looking up information on Marian, I ran across a Joseph Edgar Belker who died three years ago. His widow was Marian Rose Belker.”

  “So Rose was married?” Dad said.

  “Sounds like it. I tried to do some checking on her after that, but it’s like she dropped off the edge of the world. No records of addresses or anything else.”

  “Could her husband have been Mac?” Reuben asked.

  “I think it’s possible. But why would he say she’d died?”

  “Because if I thought she was alive and contacted the police, they’d be able to find him,” Dad said. “For some stupid reason, I accepted what he told me. Mostly because I couldn’t believe Marian would have anything to do with blackmailing me.”

  I shrugged. “I’m not sure what happened or what this information means. It’s just another part of our very confusing puzzle. But it certainly provides a twist to the situation.”

  “So Marian . . . or Rose, is alive,” Zac said. “But she might not have anything to do with Ryan’s kidnapping.”

  “If Marian’s husband was Mac, then August certainly wasn’t. So why did he have information about my brother hidden in his apartment? And why did he send me the clippings and mail that note to you, Dad?”

  “We’re still keeping this information from Paul?” Reuben asked.

  “For now,” I answered. “Until we see a solid connection. Since we know for certain he wasn’t Mac, we have no reason to tell Paul the details of my birth.”

  “But as I said, if at any point there seems to be a need,” my father said firmly, “I’ll tell him everything.”

  “Could you get in trouble?” Reuben asked.

  Dad shook his head. “I don’t know, but Ryan comes first.”

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p; I looked around the table. “You’re all okay with keeping my secret? For now anyway?”

  Everyone nodded except Reuben.

  “What are you thinking?” I asked.

  “What if Joseph Belker really was Mac?” he asked, his forehead wrinkled with concern. “Doesn’t that bring up a lot of new possibilities?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “There are still so many unanswered questions. Let’s concentrate on finding Ryan. Maybe he can tell us who Mac is—or was.”

  Reuben nodded. “I hope he can, but we should probably keep trying to find out everything we can on our end.”

  Someone knocked on the front door, and Zac jumped up. “I’ll get it.”

  I grabbed my cup and downed the rest of my coffee. Then I took the carafe and refilled my cup. Making it on so little sleep was going to take lots of caffeine.

  “Good morning,” Paul said as he came into the dining room.

  “Good morning,” Reuben answered. “How about some breakfast?”

  “Thanks. I already ate. Some coffee would be nice though.”

  I pointed to the extra table setting. “Esther set a place for you in case you were hungry. Your cup is right there. We thought you’d be here before now.”

  Paul walked around the table and sat down, picking up the empty cup and filling it with coffee. After a little cream and sugar, he took a big gulp. “We stayed up too late last night. I can barely keep my eyes open.”

  “So what’s up this morning?” Dad asked.

  I held my hand up. “Before we start on that, I have something I want to tell you.” I told Paul about the bricks outside the living room window.

  “Why didn’t you mention that earlier?” Reuben asked.

  I rolled my eyes. “We were busy talking about other things. Didn’t get a chance.”

  “Did you see any footprints?” Paul asked.

  “I didn’t think to look,” I said. “But I can tell you there are some now. Mine.” I sighed. “Sorry. I was so busy trying to figure out what our Peeping Tom could see through that window, I wasn’t thinking about footprints.”

  “Would that really have helped?” Dad said.

  Paul shrugged. “Not unless the person who stood there had unusual shoes or an odd foot size. Then it might help to narrow the field.”

  “Maybe I didn’t completely ruin everything,” I said. “Why don’t you take a look before you leave and see if there’s anything that might help us discover who is so interested in what we’re doing?”

  Paul took a sip of coffee and nodded. “I will. But before I do that, there are a couple of things you need to know. First of all, as near as we can tell, the handwriting on Lyndon’s note matches August’s perfectly. I haven’t had time to get a handwriting expert to look at it, but there’s no doubt in my mind that August wrote that note.”

  “We were pretty sure he did,” I said. “So that’s settled. What’s the other thing you wanted to tell us?”

  Paul smiled. “The reason I was late. I was following up on something.”

  “And what was that?” Reuben asked.

  Paul shrugged. “Oh, nothing too important. I found Elijah.”

  Chapter

  Twenty-Four

  Dad choked on his coffee at Paul’s announcement. “Where is he?”

  “He’s at Anna’s cousin’s house in De Soto.”

  “How did you find him?” I asked. “Shouldn’t you pick him up before they take off again?”

  Paul raised his hand. “Everyone relax. The Fishers aren’t going anywhere. Their plan is to stay where they are until you” —he pointed at me—“leave town.”

  Dad said, “But that means—”

  “It doesn’t mean anything yet,” Paul interrupted. “The Fishers definitely don’t want you looking into how they got Elijah, but according to Samuel, he isn’t Ryan Erwin.”

  “You talked to Samuel?” I said angrily. “You may have tipped them off. He thought we bought his story about the birth certificate. Now he has no reason not to tell his brother we’re on to him. They’ll grab Elijah and run.”

  “Samuel was our only link to finding Elijah. He knew exactly where his brother was hiding. And as far as tipping off Nathan, he has no intention of telling his brother that we know where they are.”

  “And why is that?” Reuben said sharply. “I’m with Wynter. They could disappear. We might never find them.”

  “No, they won’t. Samuel Fisher cares about his family, but he also cares a lot more about himself.”

  “I don’t understand,” I said.

  Paul grinned. “Let’s just say that Samuel’s crops aren’t all legal.”

  Reuben’s mouth dropped open. “Are you saying . . . ?”

  Paul nodded. “Samuel’s growing pot.”

  “Wow,” I said. “I guess when you leave the Mennonite Church, you go downhill fast.”

  “Naomi, his wife, is a good Mennonite. She didn’t know anything about it. Samuel’s the black sheep of the family.”

  “Does Nathan know about Samuel’s special harvest?” Reuben asked.

  Paul shook his head. “I’m certain he doesn’t. If he did, he’d probably turn his brother in.”

  “Wait a minute,” Reuben said, frowning, “you can’t just ignore what he’s doing.”

  “Oh, I didn’t. I took some pictures of the plants with my phone and told Samuel they all need to be out of there and destroyed by tomorrow. If they’re not, I’ll arrest him.”

  “But is it right to let him get away with that?” I asked. “You’re an officer of the law.”

  “Yes, I am. And I made a decision. A few pot plants or finding your brother. Samuel’s operation, which was very small anyway, has been shut down. We know he won’t warn Nathan and Anna that we’re looking for them because if he does—”

  “He goes to jail,” I said. “Of course, your superiors would want to know why you waited so long.”

  Paul shrugged. “That’s a chance I’ll have to take. Your brother has been missing almost ten years. I think that’s long enough.”

  “I don’t know how to thank you, Paul.”

  “Well, I hope it helps,” he said, “but remember that Samuel still says Elijah isn’t Ryan. And he should know.”

  “Not a very reliable witness,” Reuben said doubtfully.

  Paul nodded. “I agree, but why would he lie at this point? Doesn’t make much sense.”

  “I can’t believe we’ve come this far and this boy might not be Ryan after all.” My dad’s voice was so faint I could barely hear him. He’d given a lot to find the truth, even telling me something he knew could tear us apart forever. I fought back feelings of frustration.

  “So what do we do now?” Zac asked.

  “I’m going there to talk to them,” Paul said. “You all need to stay here.”

  “But they don’t know you, Paul,” Reuben said. “You think they’ll open up to you because you’re a deputy sheriff? They won’t. Conservative Mennonites believe in government through the church and don’t have much trust in worldly authority. Although they’ll treat you with respect, they won’t trust you.”

  Paul sighed. “There’s not much I can do about that. No matter what they believe, I’m the law, and they’ll have to answer to me.”

  “You’re not leaving me behind,” I said forcefully. “I’ve got to know the truth.”

  “I understand how you feel,” Paul said slowly, “but it might not be a good idea.”

  “What do you mean?” I tried to speak calmly, but I couldn’t control my emotion, and my voice trembled. We were so close. How could he deny me the chance to finally bring Ryan home?

  I felt Reuben’s hand on my shoulder. “Wynter, it’s best if you stay here. You could make things more difficult. You’re too close to this.”

  I pulled away from him. “Ryan is my brother, not yours. You can’t stop me from going.”

  He paused for a moment. “Please, Wynter,” he said finally. “I’m trying to protect you. Stay her
e.” He frowned at Paul. “Why don’t you let me go with you? The Fishers know me. Even though they don’t recognize me as their mayor, we have a very good relationship.”

  I watched as Paul chewed on Reuben’s suggestion. Finally he said, “Okay. But I intend to walk out of that meeting with the entire truth. I want to know who Elijah is—or was. He’s not their natural child, and he certainly didn’t grow in their garden. That young man came from somewhere, and I’m not going to stop until I know exactly where that was.”

  He stood up. “Let’s go. It will take us a couple of hours to get there.” He nodded toward me. “I know this is difficult, Wynter, but we’ll contact you when we know something. Just wait for us, okay?”

  Although I wanted to fight them, to argue my case, in my heart I knew they were right. I’d jumped out of Reuben’s truck when we went to Samuel’s. Obviously, I wasn’t completely in control. Although it was difficult to give in, I nodded. “All right. But please don’t let them get away again. Bring this to a close, no matter what you find out.”

  “What about me?” Dad asked. “I know my son better than anyone. If that boy is Ryan, I’ll know it.”

  Paul stared at him, biting his lip.

  Dad stood up and walked over to Paul. “One other thing to consider. I look almost exactly the same as I did when Ryan went missing. A little older, maybe, but my son would definitely recognize me.”

  After a few more seconds of silence, Paul nodded. “I might not take you in with me at first. You’d have to wait in the car until I think there’s a reason to bring you inside. Can you accept that?”

  “Yes, absolutely. You’re in charge.”

  “Okay. Let’s get going.” He turned toward Reuben. “Are you ready?”

  Reuben didn’t respond, and I noticed the trepidation in his expression.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  “I just remembered that Lazarus is in my truck. I promised Rae I’d bring him by this morning for his shots.” He waved his hand. “I’ll just cancel the appointment. Not a problem. We can drop him back off at the house on our way out of town.”