Return to Grace

by Karen Harper

  He stumbled across the room and flicked on the light, blinking in the sudden brightness. Her bonnet lay on Ray-Lynn’s desk. She didn’t wear it in the restaurant, looked strange in Amish garb without a prayer kapp, but she wouldn’t leave that here, not if she went out in this weather—went out of her own accord.

  Worse, her cape was draped over the hook on the back of the office door. Linc had surmised she was safe when he didn’t make an immediate arrest of the graveyard shooter, which would have shown she knew who that was, had seen him or her that night on the hill above the graves.

  He tore through the place, turning on lights, looking under tables, in large kitchen cabinets, in store rooms, even the big freezer, but it was packed with boxes of meat. He went down into the basement, several storage rooms with stacks of place mats, napkins and who knew what else. No Hannah. Upstairs, the back door of the restaurant was locked, as was the front. Bile rose in his throat, and fear gnawed at his self-control. Leah Schwartz’s home was close by. He’d go ask her if she knew anything, if Hannah had received a phone call or someone had been here—and why had Leah left early when she was going to wait to be escorted home?

  He jumped into his buggy and got Blaze going at a near gallop toward Leah’s.

  Hannah tried to remember each turn the truck took. Left onto Main for a ways, then up a hill, out of town for sure. Another left, not too far from Homestead. She counted two more hills before a left turn onto gravel. Harlan’s meat shop? It was on a rural road between now-barren fields. Surely he couldn’t have driven out to the Troyers’ mill or the ravine already. What if this was the truck that had pushed Ray-Lynn’s van over the side?

  Since he’d made no pretense of hiding his identity from Hannah today—no knocking her over the head from behind—he must mean to kill her. But if Harlan was the Halloween night shooter, why? He must know by now she had not recognized him that night. Was he acting because of someone’s orders, as he’d mentioned? She had heard that Harlan had boasted of retiring early and living well. For him, was money—and liquor—the root of all evil? She could see his wanting to set up John Arrowroot to take the blame, but why hurt Ray-Lynn—if he had?

  The truck came to a stop, and he killed the engine. Nothing happened for a moment. Her pulse pounded so hard she heard drums in her ears. It must be dark by now. Perhaps he’d gone into his store to get something. Seth would be distraught when he arrived at the restaurant and didn’t find her, especially since he’d discovered John Arrowroot missing. If outsiders saw Harlan make his weekly delivery after closing time, no one would suspect a thing or know where she’d gone. She should never have sent Leah home early, but then, he might have hurt her, too.

  It seemed an eternity before the back door of the truck opened. Harlan slid her out and threw her, like a slab of meat, over his shoulder, still wrapped in the blanket. His shoulder pressed into her stomach and made her feel even sicker. She couldn’t throw up with this gag or she’d choke.

  Yes, looking down at the ground, she could see it was dark outside now. She caught a glimpse of a back door stoop, the base of a glass meat counter. They were in his store. He closed and locked the door behind them, walked six steps, then opened another door.

  Were they going outside again? So cold. A slap of chill air wafted over her, despite the blanket. He clicked on a light and she saw a concrete floor stained with red juice or blood.

  His walk-in meat freezer? He was going to put her in his freezer? At least she had a blanket, but no one would ever find her here. Or since he was a butcher…

  He laid her down on a shelf amid frozen haunches of meat and pulled the blanket from her. He arranged her on the deep shelf, her hands still bound in back, facing away from him on her side, her knees pulled up in a fetal position.

  He flapped a sheet of thick plastic open over her. Was that like what Seth said the extra graveyard corpses were wrapped in? He covered her with it but didn’t wrap it tight. Inches from her face, a stab of light reflected off two big, round eyes glaring at her from within the large, wrapped haunch of meat next to her. She screamed right through her gag when she realized she was looking at the frozen corpse of John Arrowroot with his thick glasses still on his face.

  Harlan moved away, turned out the light and slammed the door.

  Leah was no help to Seth. Instantly upset, she said she knew nothing that hinted where Hannah might have gone. She told Seth that Hannah had sent her home early, that she’d said he was coming to get her, and, after all, Hannah was in charge now. No, no personal phone calls she knew of during the day. Yes, the Meyers brothers had been in as usual and hung around a bit late. Yes, Levi Troyer was here for a while. No, not Mrs. Freeman or Ms. Carson. His sister Ella had stopped in twice and once they’d gone off to the office to talk about something private. A few delivery people came by today. She wrote down their names for him. The girl had tears in her eyes as he left, blinking back his own.

  Seth wished he’d left a note for the sheriff on the back door of the restaurant, but he was heading for Bishop Esh now. He hated to alarm them, but they had to be told, maybe they knew something. Then he’d check with Ella. She’d been in the store today, perhaps had spotted someone—something!

  Bishop Esh, ever vigilant about Hannah since she’d been back, stood in the door as Seth’s buggy raced up the lane. Mrs. Esh came up behind him and peered around his shoulder. Seth would have given his life right then if Hannah had come home somehow, even if it meant she never wanted to see him again.

  He did a U-turn with the buggy and reined in. “Have you heard from or seen Hannah?”

  “Ach, no. She said you’d bring her home,” the bishop shouted.

  “She wasn’t at the restaurant, but her cape and bonnet were. I called the sheriff but didn’t get him. Agent Armstrong’s not around today, even out of the state. I’m checking on who’s seen her, going to check with Ella.”

  As Seth snapped the reins and sent Blaze back to a trot, he could hear Bishop Esh praying and Hannah’s mother’s sobs.

  Pitch-black in here and so cold, but that made her even more desperate to do something before Harlan came back. Or would he not return until he knew she was frozen to death? She supposed this was an indirect way of killing someone without putting a bullet in them. Harlan must have given the graveyard murder weapon back when he took John Arrowroot. She had no time to look at his stiff body, could not stand to—nor could she see a thing in here.

  She scooted away from his corpse. Had Harlan killed him just so he could make it look like Arrowroot was the killer? Again, she tried to reason out who pulled Harlan’s strings, but she had to get loose somehow, stay warm, stay alive. Find some way out.

  The big piece of plastic slid off to the floor as she rolled over her tied hands and struggled to sit up, bumping her head on the shelf above. She shivered despite her frenzy, just as after she’d helped recover Ray-Lynn, but then she’d had Seth and Ella beside her. She’d have to keep moving all night, get out of these ties. She scooted carefully to the edge of the storage shelf. What about oxygen in here? Would she pass out before she froze? How large a freezer was this?

  She had no choice but to try to find out, and in the blackest black she’d ever seen. It was like being in a tomb in the cold ground.

  Praying she would not stumble or fall, she decided to hop until she found the wall and the door and hopefully the light switch, because she was pretty sure it was inside the door, not out. She got to her feet but, instead of hopping, she could only shuffle in tiny steps.

  Twice she bumped into cold metal shelves or racks, went down an aisle to the wall and had to reverse her steps. Could she be going in circles? Now this reminded her of the corn maze. Harlan must have been after them there, too. At last she bumped into a wall of cold metal. She shuffled along it, hit a corner, went back. She was certain he’d carried her in through a door over here. Yes, not a round doorknob but a long one!

  She put her ear to the metal door, but could hear nothing through it. Mayb
e the whirring of a fan somewhere in here. It seemed to come off and on, blowing out extra cold air into the already frigid room. She pressed her trembling body along one side of the door, then the other. Her breast scraped over something, maybe a light switch. She ran her face down the wall to it and flicked it up with her nose.

  Light flooded the room, making her squint. Thank You, Lord, for this much. Please protect Your own, she prayed. As she surveyed the room, she was surprised at its small size. She blinked away tears, only to realize they were freezing on her cheeks.

  For once Seth did not scoop Marlena up in his arms as she ran to him, but only patted her head.

  “Hannah’s missing from the restaurant!” he blurted out, lifting Ella to her feet where she’d been playing on the floor with Marlena and both her dolls.

  “Hannah here, Daadi!” Marlena said, tugging on his coat, but he ignored her.

  “But I saw her there twice today,” Ella cried. “I went to drop off the lavender and went back after I overheard Mrs. Freeman at the B and B. She was talking about Sheriff Freeman to someone Hannah thinks she must have been in love with in Las Vegas. Hannah said Lily’s probably not only mad at Ray-Lynn but at her for not letting her work at the restaurant.”

  “Could Lily Freeman have come by to argue with her again?”

  “Maybe, since they had words yesterday.”

  “I know. I saw it.” He picked Marlena up in his arms, bounced her but ignored her babbling. “All I can think of to do is go to the B and B to see if Lily’s there. Then I can check out the Meyers brothers. Linc never did trust them.”

  “Can’t the sheriff help?”

  “I’m hoping he shows up. If he doesn’t soon, I’m going to phone Linc Armstrong, even if he is in Detroit. Thanks for staying with Marlena,” he added, and thrust the child into Ella’s arms. He was out the door in a sprint, wishing for once he wasn’t Amish. Because he needed a phone and something faster than a horse. Because he was going to use violence, if he must, to shake some answers out of people.

  With her exertions, Hannah was having trouble breathing. Mucus from her crying was starting to freeze in her nostrils. She had to get her gag off, had to free her hands. Wouldn’t a butcher have a knife nearby?

  She shuffled slowly around, down a narrow aisle of shelves. Nothing she could see but stacked meat, much of it wrapped in cloudy plastic. Would the edge of one of the bolted uprights that held the metal shelves saw through the ropes around her wrist? She had to try.

  She backed up to a corner shelf and started rubbing her ties up and down. It was exhausting work, but it kept her a bit warmer. She thought she was making progress, but her hands were numb, her fingers, too. From the bonds or from the cold? So cold.

  She thought the ties loosened a bit. Sawing harder, pushing against the metal, praying, thinking of that time she and Seth had their legs tied together for a church picnic in a three-legged race. They had won a watermelon they and their friends devoured…so warm that day…so…

  It startled her when her bonds popped free. Free! Free and in the light! Thank You, Lord, and for that warm memory of Seth. When he’d looked at her, even then, she’d felt the heat of the sun, so golden and warm....

  Stop it! Concentrate! Keep warm, keep moving, think about getting out of here! she screamed at herself as she ripped her gag off.

  She sat on the floor to untie her ankles, but her fingers didn’t work right. Fumbling, she picked away at the knots and felt the rush of blood into her feet. Now to get out of here. Surely Harlan must have gone home for the night, especially if his wife and sister were upset with him lately. All that heartfelt confession to her in the restaurant! And no doubt planning then to get rid of her as he had John Arrowroot, and maybe those strangers buried in the graveyard. Maybe tried to kill Ray-Lynn, too. Well, he wasn’t going to kill her. If he came back to wrap her in that plastic shroud, she was going to hit him over the head with a piece of his own frozen meat!

  That is, if she could keep her fingers and hands warm enough to hold it, her feet and legs steady enough, for she was shaking uncontrollably. Her brain seemed to drift, as well. Please, Lord, not like Ray-Lynn where I’d lose my memory, go unconscious, Lord, help…

  She wanted to sing to keep her courage up, but what if Harlan was still here, heard her and came in before she was ready? Besides, she shouldn’t take in more cold air. She’d just sing in her head, talk to those she loved, Mamm, Daad—what if she didn’t get a chance to tell him she forgave him? She’d pretend to talk to Seth, of course, Ella and Sarah, little Marlena and her lumba babba named Hannah. Talk to Linc, tell him to get here fast from far away—was he in Paris? Seth, please come find me....

  She was going crazy from the cold. Did she hear faint voices in her head—or were they real?

  28

  “LILY’S NOT HERE, Seth,” Amanda Stutzman told him as she stood in her front door. “What’s the matter? Come on in.”

  “I can’t, Mrs. Stutzman. I need to find Hannah.”

  “But why are you here? Do you think she’s with Lily?”

  “I doubt it. Lily’s angry with her for not letting her help at the restaurant. And with Ray-Lynn injured…”

  Amanda stepped out onto her front porch and pulled her wool shawl closer around her shoulders. “You don’t think that Lily had anything to do with that, do you? I had the idea Lily wanted her ex-husband back at first—I mean, I just couldn’t believe she really missed small-town life enough to return and face everyone, and neither did I come to believe she was writing a book. It just isn’t her, if you know what I mean. And then, when I heard the sheriff and Ray-Lynn were close—well!”

  “Is there anything else you learned about Lily that didn’t sit right?”

  “She goes out jogging and driving at strange hours. I’m sorry I can’t be of more help. You know, she really puts up walls, despite how she seems so open and friendly. I was just talking about that with my brother and his wife the other night, and they both agreed.”

  “Please don’t be angry with Ella, but when she was here today, she accidentally overheard Mrs. Freeman talking to a man, probably in Las Vegas, someone who seemed jealous of Sheriff Freeman. Have you picked up on any of that?”

  “Well, lots of phone calls, but she was very private about that. You know, maybe if Jack Freeman didn’t want to take her back, she wanted to make things hard for him around here by riling up Ray-Lynn. But by pushing her off the road into a ravine?”

  “She’d have to be crazy.”

  “Which she isn’t. She’s very bright, very focused, but more and more antsy around here, I can tell. Two places you could check, of course, if you must talk to her—you could use my phone—would be the Rooster Roadhouse and Elaine Carson’s place. Thick as thieves, those two. I almost wondered at first if they weren’t actually attracted to each other—you know what I mean—but not if Lily has someone back in Las Vegas. Now, I must admit Harlan has been out to the Roadhouse a time or two also, drinking, playing the video games there—even went to Las Vegas once to gamble on their machines. He won a trip on the radio, all expenses paid, so—”

  She went on and on. The Lily and Harlan link to Las Vegas might mean something, but that wasn’t what hit him now. Hannah had mentioned that Harlan Kenton would make the restaurant’s weekly meat delivery today, but Leah had not included him on the list of vendors who had stopped by. He’d stuck the list in his hat, but he pulled it out and tilted it to the wan window light. No, Harlan Kenton’s name was not on it, and yet the restaurant’s freezer was full of meat. He must have stopped by after Leah left. He’d have to talk to Harlan but without tipping off his sister about it, in case she’d phone him.

  “What is it? Where are you going?” Mrs. Stutzman cried as he thanked her, then started away.

  He didn’t know whether to trust her or not. He had been going to ask to borrow her phone to call Linc and to—as she’d suggested—phone Elaine Carson and the Roadhouse, but he’d better not do any of that here. Could he
even trust her to call the sheriff for him?

  “I just decided to let the sheriff handle this,” he lied. “Thanks again for all your help!”

  He was off at fast clip toward his buggy and exhausted horse. Where would Harlan be this time of night? Since Hannah had said he was on the outs with his wife for drinking too much, he’d probably be home after dark. Yeah, he’d get to a pay phone and try calling Harlan’s house, then his shop, then the Roadhouse to find out where he was so he could confront him.

  The voices made Hannah more alert. They must be real. When the cold air stopped blowing in for a while, they were louder. Maybe coming through an air vent in here somewhere?

  She looked up, all around. She hated to do it, but she clicked off the single bare lightbulb on the ceiling and saw wan light up high on the wall that must adjoin the shop itself. If it wasn’t so small, she might have found a way to unscrew the grated plate or knock it out. When she blinked she could tell there was something like snowflakes on her eyelashes.

  She turned the light back on and shoved a heavy box labeled Zook Family Venison over to the wall and climbed up on it.

  “You’ve what? You’ve blown it now, ruined everything!” a woman’s voice shrilled. “You’re an idiot! You can’t keep making people disappear like a second-rate magician in a show on the Strip! And your drinking’s way out of control!”

  Lily? Hannah’s head hurt so much from the cold. Her teeth were chattering, and keeping her ear close to the vent in order to listen meant she got a cold blast right in her face when the blower kicked on again.

  “You sound like my wife and sister, and I can do without both right now,” Harlan shouted. “Mr. Davis told me to clean things up, so I am. Give that bright, snoopy little Amish chick a couple more days and she’d remember or figure out it was me trick-or-treating Halloween night, to bury another of your boyfriend’s bodies. They’re not buying that Arrowroot’s the shooter, or the FBI guy would have cleared out of here.”