“And . . . what did Walker say?”
Her mother’s question caught her off guard. Since when did her mother care about what an Englischer boy thought? “I’m afraid we fought on the way home.”
“Why?” she asked quickly. But before Lydia could catch her breath, her mother held up a hand. “Sorry. I mean, would you like to tell me what happened?”
“I told him that I had only intended to see him more if I had been born English. Because then it would make it seem like jumping the fence and being English would be okay.”
Her mother visibly schooled her features. “Ah. So . . . so you’re not going to leave our faith?”
“I guess not,” she said slowly. Realizing even as she spoke that she wasn’t sure how things were going to be resolved.
“Ah.”
“But you still wish you could see Walker?”
She turned toward her mother. Her mother had put into words feelings she didn’t even realize were there.
“Walker will never be Amish, will he?”
“No.” Lydia sighed, looking at her black tennis shoes and suddenly wishing she was barefoot. “He’s never going to be Amish, and I don’t think he’s ever going to understand me or how confused I feel.”
“People change, child. Opinions change too—these past few weeks have taught us that.”
“We told each other goodbye, Mamm.” Remembering the complete feeling of loss she felt, and how the dust from his tires flew up in the air and then settled again, looking for all the world like Walker and his truck had never even been there, Lydia slumped. “And worse, now I’m back where I was. Without a sweetheart.”
“You’re young, dear. It will happen.” She stood up. “I don’t know why I’m saying this, but perhaps it would be a good idea for you to do some thinking about your feelings for this Walker.”
“Why?”
“Maybe there’s more to him than just being an Englischer. Maybe there’s more to each of us than just our specific faith. Our God guides all of us, yes? For a little while, I think I had forgotten that.”
She turned and opened the door.
“Mamm?”
“Yes?”
“I need to call the detective and tell him something about Perry.”
Her expression sharpened. “Hasn’t he heard all you know?”
“I’m afraid not. But Mamm, as soon as I tell him, I’m going to go back to work at the greenhouse. I think I should return to my normal routine.”
“Your help will be appreciated, but there is no hurry. You were right to ask for time off.”
Opening up her purse, Lydia found the detective’s card, and holding it in one hand, she left her purse on the steps and walked down the road to the phone shanty.
Suddenly her secrets didn’t seem to matter all that much anymore. She was alone again, with only her memories and regrets for company.
She couldn’t help it if Detective Reynolds thought she was a suspect. Or if he started to think she was a bad person because she’d kept secrets.
All that really mattered now was that she could live with herself every day. If she could do that, it might be enough.
Reynolds,” Luke blurted into the phone as he climbed the dark stairs to the attic in Mose’s house. His friend was a pig.
It was night and day from the pretty, lemon-smelling oil and wood of Frannie’s B & B.
“Detective? Detective Reynolds? Is that you?”
Gripping the phone harder, he tried to place the voice. “Is this Lydia Plank?”
“Jah.” Over the line, her voice sounded thin and wary.
And Luke leaned his head against the wall, frustrated with himself.
“It’s me. Hey, I’m sorry I answered like I did. I had something on my mind.”
“I hope it wasn’t anything too terrible.”
As he located the light switch, he grimaced at his bare surroundings. Things definitely looked better in the dark. “It’s nothing at all. Now what can I help you with?” he asked as he walked toward the child’s sized desk and chair in the corner of the room.
“I need to talk to you about Perry again, if you have time.”
Luke gripped the pencil he’d just picked up. There was a hint of steel in Lydia Plank’s voice. It sounded harsh and determined. New.
Maybe this was just the information that he’d been waiting for. “Can we do it over the phone?” He pulled open his notebook and scratched out today’s date and time. He was tired of waiting. Tired of talking and talking. Just once he’d like one of the residents of Crittenden County to give him news in a straightforward way.
“Uh, I’d rather not. What I have to tell you is private. I’d rather not discuss it from a phone booth on the street.”
“I completely understand.” He straightened. “Where and when do you want to meet?”
“Can you come to my house this evening? We can talk there. Whenever you have time.”
He looked at his watch and mentally calculated how long it would take him to finish moving in, shower off the dust and grime, grab something to eat, then get to her place. “One hour? Can I see you in one hour?”
A sigh of relief met his offer. “I’ll be waiting. Thank you.”
She hung up, leaving Luke to wonder if he was finally getting the break he’d been hoping for. If so, that meant he might only have to spend one night in Mose’s dirty attic.
At the most, two nights.
Looking around at the old toys in sacks, at the old furniture that all looked broken or too unstable to use, he smiled.
He could solve the case and move back to his apartment and take full advantage of his air-conditioning. And his shower.
Yep, in no time, he could be back where he belonged. Where he needed to belong.
He was so happy about that, he decided to not even bother unpacking. He’d take wrinkles over dust and bugs any day.
Chapter 24
“Just because a boy don’t meet everyone’s expectations . . . it don’t mean he deserved to get hit on the head and shoved in a well.”
DEPUTY SHERIFF MOSE KRAMER
Luke found Lydia Plank sitting on a wooden bench in her family’s rose garden. The fact that they’d sat there before together didn’t escape him. Of course, the last time they’d sat together, he’d been the one full of questions and she’d been the one evading. She’d hardly looked at him, either.
Now things were different. Instead of looking shuttered and evasive, her whole expression was one of pure openness. From her wide eyes that looked directly at him, to the soft smile of welcome she gave him.
Even her stiff posture had lessened. And the two glasses and pitcher of lemonade beside her gave him no doubt that she was more than ready to make him feel at ease.
But instead of doing that, Luke felt his whole body go on alert. What had happened to bring about such a transformation?
“Lovely evening,” he said as he approached. “For once the rain stopped.”
“Hello, Detective. I thought you might be thirsty?”
“Lemonade sounds great. Thank you.” He took the proffered glass, then sat down and waited. They were done with small talk and conversation, and they both knew it.
After a fortifying sip, Lydia set her glass down and took a deep breath. “Detective, I have something to tell you.”
He took out a pad of paper and a pencil. He didn’t really need it; he was good at memorizing information. But he figured it would set her more at ease. “I’m ready.”
She closed her eyes briefly, opened them, then spoke in a rush. “I’m afraid I lied to you about when I last saw Perry.”
“Ah.”
“I saw him just a few days before he disappeared. And on New Year’s Eve, too,” she added in a rush. As soon as she was done speaking, she exhaled, picked up her glass with a shaking hand. Then set it back down.
“I see.”
“Are you mad that I lied to you before?”
What could he say? He’d known from the beginning that she was kee
ping information back. But telling her that wasn’t going to do either of them any good. “I’m not mad. I’m glad you told me now.”
“I had wanted to tell you, but I was afraid, you see. I didn’t want you to suspect me any more than you did.”
Luke felt curiously deflated. He’d been hoping for more information. For something earth shattering.
But maybe there was more to the story?
He picked up his glass and sipped slowly, buying them both some time. When she sipped too, he smiled to himself. The way she was breathing so unsteadily made him worry about her. The last thing either of them needed was for her to hyperventilate or faint.
When she put her glass down, he spoke. “Why did you lie about when you saw him last?”
“Because it made me uncomfortable. I felt like I was betraying a confidence.” She paused. Shook her head. “No, it was like I was betraying myself.”
Betraying herself?
He took another sip of lemonade. It was obviously homemade; the tart, sour sting of fresh lemon juice hadn’t mixed completely with the ice water and sugar. The result was tasty and made waiting for Lydia to gather her thoughts bearable.
“See, Detective Reynolds, when I last saw Perry, it was at a store in Marion.”
“At Schrock’s?”
“No. A group of us all saw him in front of Schrock’s on the thirtieth, but we all kind of ignored him.” She looked away from Luke, her eyes scanning the horizon. “Perry had kind of looked like he wanted to talk to us, but he’d burned so many bridges we turned away from him. On New Year’s Eve, I saw him at the grocery store on South Main Street. He was sitting on a park bench at the edge of the parking lot.”
“Alone?”
She nodded. “I saw him when I drove my buggy in, and decided to walk over to see him. He looked kind of forlorn, you see. And I was feeling guilty about how nobody had talked to him the day before.” She looked over Luke’s shoulder, like she was remembering a scene from long ago. “Used to be, Perry had been one of the crowd.”
Luke wrote a couple of notes down. “So you walked over to him because you were worried . . .”
“I was. And I wasn’t hurt or mad anymore. I walked over because I wanted to see for myself how he was doing. It had been so long since we’d talked.”
“And you thought he’d tell you how he was?”
“Maybe not everything, but yes, I did think he would talk to me.” Lines formed around her mouth as she frowned. “There were a lot of rumors about what he was doing . . .”
“About drug deals?”
“Jah.” She bit her lip. “About a lot of things. He didn’t look good, detective. He was pale and had lost weight. When I asked him if he was okay, he said he wasn’t.”
He took another sip, waited. Then gently nudged again. “Lydia, why wasn’t Perry okay?”
“He was seeing another woman, I don’t know who. She’d made him upset.” She paused. “I think he was worried about other things, too. I don’t think he was fancying his new English friends. It seemed they wanted more money from him. They wanted more money than he had.”
“Do you have their names?” Luke forced himself to sound detached. Calm. He didn’t want his excitement to scare her from telling him everything she knew.
“I do not. I didn’t want to know their names, I’m afraid.” Pretty blue eyes met his again. “To be honest with you, Detective, I didn’t want to know anything more about Perry. Breaking things off with him had been hard for me. I didn’t want to get involved in his life all over again.”
“Then what happened?”
She bit her lip. “He asked me if I would have him back if he changed. Again.”
“Again?”
“If he considered joining the church again.” She waved a hand, obviously at a loss of how to describe the conversation. “If, you know, he went back to acting more like he used to. More the way I’d hoped he’d stay.”
“And what did you say?”
“I told him no.” Her voice held all the confusion and all the pain that he guessed was in her heart. “I told Perry that I knew who I was, that I knew who I wanted to be . . . and that I had no patience for a man who was confused about his life. I fear I was terribly full of myself and rather mean to him.” Sliding a finger around the rim of the glass, she added, “I didn’t think it was possible for him to make amends, which is wrong, I know. All of us can repent and ask forgiveness, don’t you think?”
Luke slowly nodded.
“Jah . . . that is what the Bible teaches us.”
“You told Perry this after you approached him? Even though you just told me you didn’t want to make Perry mad or distrustful?”
“It doesn’t make sense, does it?” she asked. “I can’t explain myself except to say that I was feeling two different things . . . worry for a friend, but still hurting as a girlfriend.”
“I see.”
“Do you? See, that is why I’ve never shared the information, Detective. I didn’t keep this a secret because I wanted to shield Perry. It was because I wanted to shield myself. Back then, on that day, I was so sure that I would always be right and he would always be wrong. Instead of caring about someone who was clearly in trouble, I wanted to keep myself from feeling more pain.”
Sitting up straighter, she continued. “But lately I’ve realized that people can change. Oh, not like Perry of course, but incidents can happen. Or secrets can be told that change absolutely everything you thought to be true . . .” She paused. “I’ve told you everything now. I am sorry, Detective. I hope I haven’t disrupted your search too much.”
“What matters is that you finally did tell me everything you know. That helps a lot.”
She got to her feet as well. “Detective, what do you do if you aren’t sure how to pick up your feet and start walking? I seem to feel like I’m frozen in place right now. If you don’t mind me asking, that is.”
He shrugged, then pressed a hand to his stomach. “If all else fails, I trust my gut. And then I start walking, because we all have to go somewhere, right? It’s pretty impossible to stay in one place for long.” He waved then, and turned toward his vehicle, but not before catching a glimpse of Lydia sitting back down.
Luke wasn’t sure, but he had a feeling she might be there for a very long time.
That, of course, was just a guess.
It had been a while since she’d eaten breakfast with Walker. “What are you doing up so early?” Abby asked as she walked to the cabinets and pulled out a box of Rice Krispies and a bowl.
He looked up from his own bowl of cereal; his was Cheerios. “Couldn’t sleep.”
After grabbing a spoon from a drawer, she looked his way. “Milk still out?”
“Yep.” He lifted the gallon container. “Juice is here, too.”
Once she got her cereal, she retrieved a glass and sat to his right. In the just the same spot she’d always sat with him. For years and years.
“Do you think we’ll ever switch cereals? Mom and Dad switch all the time. I never liked anything but Rice Krispies.”
He flashed a smile. “I was the same way with Cheerios.”
Three bites later, Walker was finishing up his juice. “You ready for school?”
“Yep.”
“Nervous?”
“Not so much. I’ve been thinking about something Grandma Francis said about weeding.”
“What was that?”
“She told me to try to get rid of some of the garbage I’ve been carrying, and look around and appreciate what I have.”
Intrigued, Walker leaned back in his chair. “Really?”
“Well, she didn’t say ‘garbage,’ she said ‘weeds.’ But it was the same thing. She told me that only God needed to worry about my plans for the rest of my life. And in the meantime, I should try to learn something at school.”
Walker’s bark of laughter lifted her spirits. She smiled back at him. “Grandma Francis is a pistol, don’t you think? I’m surprised Grandpa puts u
p with her.”
He smiled her way. “She’s not for sissies, that’s for sure. She’s never been worried about speaking her mind.” Scooting out his chair, he rinsed out his bowl, then poured himself a cup of coffee. “Good luck today. Maybe with a new, Grandma Francis, attitude, things will be better for you.”
“I hope so.” Looking at Walker more closely, Abby decided that there was something off about him. “So, what are you doing today?”
“Same thing I’m always doing. Work and school.”
“Will you see Lydia?”
He looked away, studying his coffee cup long and hard. “I don’t think so. We might not see each other for a while.”
“Because she’s Amish and you’re not?”
“Basically.” He sipped again. “She’s right. I feel the same way. I don’t want to be in a relationship that doesn’t have a future. What’s the point, right?”
“But the point it that you really like her and she really likes you back.”
He stilled. “Do you think so?”
There was such hope on his face she smiled as brightly as she could. “Lydia stared at you when she didn’t think you were looking.”
He blinked, sipped his coffee, then turned around, shrugging. “It’s over now.”
“It doesn’t have to be, does it?”
Instead of answering her, he grabbed his cell phone and checked the screen. “So, you want a ride to school?”
“So I don’t have to walk all around the Millers’ farm? Definitely.”
“Go get your stuff. I’ll be out at the truck.”
Ten minutes later, Abby stepped out of his truck and waved goodbye, smiling at a story he told her about one of college friends.
Still thinking about her brother, Abby almost ran into another girl by the main door. When their bodies connected, her lunch fell to the ground.
“Hey!” she said.
When Abby glanced at her again, her heart sank. Way to go, she thought. She not only ran into another girl, but it was a cheerleader. “I’m so sorry. I wasn’t watching where I was going.”
“Obviously. You were smiling like crazy. No one can be that happy to be here.”
“Oh. My brother just dropped me off. He was telling me a story.” Feeling dumb, because who else in high school actually talked about their brothers? She bent down, grabbed her lunch sack, then stepped to the side. “I’m sorry again, Valerie.”
Missing with Bonus Material: The Secrets of Crittenden County, Book One Page 19
