Dark Crossings

by Marta Perry

  The picture wasn’t there. She stared blankly at a photo of a school group: children lined up in front of the old elementary school, a teacher in a long skirt standing at the end of the row. Sarah turned the page, then went back again. She must be mistaken. The picnic photo had to be in another album.

  She ran her finger along the inside binding, feeling the rough edges of a page that had been torn out. Her stomach seemed to twist. Maybe this was a different album. Maybe the page had been ripped out years ago. Maybe. But she didn’t think so.

  Mamm would be waiting at Aunt Mary’s, wondering why she wasn’t there yet. Sarah clutched the album. Was she really sure this was the same one? But how could anyone get in the house to tear out the page? And why?

  She must be wrong. There was no time to go through all the albums again, searching for the missing picture. She could do that tomorrow. If the photo really wasn’t there, Leo would have to be told.

  Sarah hurried downstairs and double-checked the locks on the front and back doors. All was secure, so she scurried out the side door, locking it with the key.

  She’d gone nearly a block before she realized she’d left her jacket behind, and would need it in the morning. Shaking her head, she turned back. One of her grossmamm’s favorite sayings slipped into her mind. If you don’t use your head, you’ll have to use your feet. Grossmamm had been wonderful gut at having a saying for every event.

  Sarah let herself in the side door quietly. The house was as she’d left it just moments before, and there was no reason to stop and listen as she reached for her jacket. No reason, but she did it anyway.

  Quiet, of course. Nothing was out of place—

  Her thoughts skittered to a halt when something creaked overhead.

  She froze, her hand pressed to her lips to keep any sound from escaping. One breath, two—and then she heard the creak again and recognized what it was. Someone had stepped on the old floorboards at the top of the stairs.

  She should do something. If she went to the phone, the person upstairs would hear her. Better to slip quietly back out, run to the neighbor…

  Footsteps sounded openly in the upstairs hall. Sarah’s fear eased, and she felt suddenly foolish. Surely someone who shouldn’t be in the house wouldn’t walk around so casually. It must be Leo, of course. He’d said he would try to come back this afternoon.

  Since he was upstairs already, she might as well show him the album. Once she’d turned that question over to him, she wouldn’t have to fret about it.

  The back stairs leading up from the kitchen were closest. Sarah opened the door and hurried up, calling Leo’s name as she reached the top and grasped the doorknob. “Leo? I’m glad I caught you.” She turned the knob, pushing the door open. “I wanted—”

  Something slammed against the door on the other side, forcing it shut. The movement sent her staggering backward. Unable to stop, she lost her balance and plunged down the stairs, arms flailing. Helpless, out of control, she was falling.

  Her hand struck the railing and she grabbed it, arm twisting as it took the full weight of her body. Ignoring the pain, she held on tight, getting her feet beneath her, while her heart thudded so loudly she couldn’t hear anything else.

  She pressed her palm against her chest. She had to listen, had to think. Someone had slammed the door shut so she wouldn’t see him or her. Had the person intended to make her fall?

  She tensed in fear. Footsteps were heading quickly toward the front stairs. Maybe the person intended to slip out that way before Sarah could see who it was. Or maybe he or she was coming back, expecting to find her crumpled at the bottom of the staircase.

  That possibility galvanized her into action. She had to get out of the house. Find help, call Leo or the police. And quickly.

  Hanging on to the railing, she slithered down the rest of the steps, paused for a moment and then eased the door open at the bottom of the stairs. She listened intently, but couldn’t hear anything. Maybe the person was already out of the house. Or maybe he was around the corner, waiting for her.

  But she couldn’t stay here, afraid to move, waiting for someone to come after her….

  Murmuring a silent prayer, she dashed across the kitchen, down the hallway and out the house.

  * * *

  THERE WAS REALLY no good reason for Jacob to drive past the Strickland house on his way back from the hardware store. No reason, but he was doing it anyway.

  Probably Sarah’s mother would have picked her up by now. They’d be home ahead of him. Still, no reason why he shouldn’t go this way.

  He drew even with the house and knew the instinct that had sent him this way had been accurate. Both Leo Frost’s car and the police car were drawn up by the side gate.

  Heart pounding, he guided Bess to the verge and jumped down, running toward the side door.

  He bolted into the house and followed the sound of voices to the kitchen. Sarah sat in a chair, with Leo and Chief Byler on either side of her. They all looked up at him.

  He had eyes only for Sarah. “Are you all right? What happened?” He went to her, kneeling next to the chair. She seemed unhurt, but…

  “I’m all right, Jacob. Truly. I…” She glanced at Leo, as if asking his permission. “I heard someone in the house.”

  He could tell by the strain in her face that she wasn’t telling him everything. “Did he hurt you? Frighten you?”

  She shook her head and then bit her lower lip. “Ja, frightened, maybe. I took a tumble down a couple of steps, but I didn’t get hurt.”

  “Then why did you wince when I touched your hand?” He put his fingers lightly on her wrist, afraid to do more. “You should see a doctor.”

  “Ach, no, I’ve had worse helping Daad with the horses.” She smiled, but her eyes were grave. “My arm twisted, is all. From when I caught myself.”

  “Sarah heard someone upstairs and thought it was me.” Leo seemed to feel that a fuller explanation was needed. “She went up the back stairs. Apparently the intruder heard her coming. He…or she…slammed the door shut, causing Sarah to trip down a few steps.” He held up his hand, as if anticipating Jacob’s reaction. “We wanted her to see a doctor, but she insists she’s all right.”

  “Did you catch him? Do you know who it was?” Jacob appreciated that Leo would be cautious in making accusations. He was a lawyer, after all. But it surely must have been a man.

  Chief Byler shook his head. “He was gone by the time we got here. Sarah was very sensible. She ran outside and stopped a passing car. The motorist called us on his cell phone. But no one seems to have seen the intruder, whoever it was.”

  Sarah stirred in her chair. “I have told you everything. Mamm will be worried. I was supposed to meet her at my aunt’s.”

  “Just a few more minutes, Sarah.” Chief Byler picked up a small notebook from the table in front of him. “Tell me again about the photograph.”

  She nodded, but Jacob could feel her tension mounting. “Yesterday I looked in the photo albums Mr. Strickland had out in the study.” She frowned. “He must have gotten them out the afternoon or evening of the day he died, because they weren’t there when I tidied the room in the morning. Anyway, the first picture in the album I picked up was of him when he was about my age, at a picnic with other young people. Remember, Jacob, I told you about it on the way home?”

  He nodded. “I remember. But what—”

  “It is missing, that’s what. I realized this afternoon whe
n I was putting the albums in a box. It looked as if a page had been torn out.”

  Chief Byler stood. “Let’s go up and have a quick look at it, Sarah. Then I promise you can leave.”

  They went upstairs, with Jacob following right behind her. He hoped Chief Byler wouldn’t tell him to leave, because he would hate to argue with the law. But nothing was said. The police chief seemed to think that what Sarah knew, Jacob knew, as well.

  “This is where I was putting the albums.” Sarah reached for a box on the desk. “There are some loose photos as well, and—” She stopped, staring into the box. “The album. It’s gone.”

  “You’re sure?” Chief Byler scanned the remaining albums. “These all look pretty much alike to me.”

  Sarah shook her head, lifting them out and setting them on the desk one by one. “It was the only dark blue one with gold lettering. It’s missing.”

  Leo’s forehead wrinkled. “I don’t understand. What value would an old photo have to anyone?”

  Chief Byler frowned in turn. “You’d think the only person who might be interested would be a relative.”

  “Maude Stevens,” Leo said slowly. “Her late husband was a distant cousin. And Hank Mitchell, who also claims to be a cousin.”

  “Claims?” The chief was on to that in an instant.

  Leo’s lips tightened. “I thought Richard was foolish to offer the young man the garage apartment on nothing more than his word and a letter from an elderly cousin. But Richard was sure he knew best.”

  “I think it’s time I had a talk with Hank Mitchell,” Chief Byler said. He smiled at Sarah. “Now, as I promised, you can leave. I hope your mother isn’t fretting too much.”

  “Just one thing.” Leo still looked worried. “I don’t think Sarah should be alone in the house anymore.”

  “She won’t be.” Jacob said the words firmly, willing her not to argue. This was not the time for stubbornness. “I will be with her.”

  “Good enough,” Leo said. “I’ll be glad of your help, Jacob. Get on home now.”

  Jacob held Sarah’s arm as they went down the stairs, and she shook his hand off only when they stepped out onto the porch. “Mamm’s coming,” she said, nodding down the street at her mother’s buggy. “Listen, Jacob—”

  “Don’t bother to argue. I’m bringing you tomorrow. And I’m staying.”

  “Not that,” she said quickly. “I’ll be glad enough to have you there to help me. Just don’t say anything to Mamm about what happened, will you? I don’t want her fretting any more than she already is.”

  He hesitated a moment and then nodded. It didn’t matter whether Sarah’s mamm was worrying about her or not. Because he was doing enough for the both of them.

  CHAPTER NINE

  SARAH HUGGED HER JACKET around her as she headed for town the next morning. Mist hung in the valley, but the battery-operated safety light on Daad’s buggy sent out a reassuring red glow.

  She glanced at Jacob. Did he feel the same edge of tension she did at driving the buggy on a day that was too reminiscent of the accident? Usually she could read his every thought, but this morning his stoic expression defied her. It was almost like looking at a stranger, and that edged her stress up another notch.

  “What…what does Levi King say about your buggy?” Levi, the local carriage maker, had hauled the remains of Jacob’s vehicle away after the accident.

  “He says I should learn to avoid traffic.” Jacob grinned, and he was himself again, the Jacob she’d known all her life. “It will have to be totally rebuilt, for sure. If anyone can do it, Levi can.”

  “If you hadn’t been driving me home—” she began.

  “Ach, don’t talk foolish,” Jacob said quickly. “What happens is what happens. It is God’s will.”

  She nodded, but wasn’t quite convinced. Silence fell between them again, and it wasn’t the comfortable silence she was used to. It seemed to vibrate with things unsaid.

  Jacob’s hands tightened on the lines, and Bess tossed her head slightly, as if in protest. He cleared his throat.

  He was going to say something—something that might change things between them forever. Panic set her nerves jangling.

  “I wonder if Chief Byler found Hank.” She blurted the words out—anything to head off whatever Jacob planned to say. “It’s hard to believe he would take the photo album. Why would he?”

  Jacob’s lips firmed for a moment. Then he shrugged. “Why would anyone? Unless he wanted it for the sake of family memories.”

  “But why take it?” They were on safe ground again, and her voice sounded more normal to her. “He could have asked Leo Frost. I wouldn’t think he’d mind.”

  Jacob frowned. “I don’t know. I just know I won’t be easy in my mind until you’re finished with this job.”

  “It’s only a few more days, I’d guess.” And then what would she do? She’d been too busy to even think about looking around for another job. Still, maybe Leo would have some suggestions. “Mr. McKay is coming this afternoon to put a price on the antiques.”

  “Are you supposed to be there to help him?” They were getting into traffic as they reached the outskirts of town, and Jacob’s gaze was focused on the road.

  “Ja, Leo asked me to. He doesn’t want anyone left alone in the house.”

  “I guess we will stay, then.” He drew into the alley that ran along the Strickland house, bringing the mare to a stop at the gate.

  Sarah climbed down a bit more slowly than usual, mindful of the bruises that had developed after the buggy accident and then that tumble on the stairs. “I’ll go and check on the boxes for the charity truck while you unharness, ja? The truck should be here early.”

  She didn’t wait for Jacob’s agreement, but hurried up the walk. The sooner they got to work, the better. Maybe then this strangeness between them would go away.

  She went in, taking her jacket off as she did and hanging it on the hook. She’d check those boxes first and see if there was enough space for Jacob to move them out to the porch for pickup.

  She walked into the sunroom and stopped dead. Hank Mitchell stood by the table next to Mr. Strickland’s chair. He had an envelope in his hand.

  Maybe her alarm showed in her face, because he gave her a quick, disarming smile. “Hi, Sarah. Sorry if I startled you.”

  “I didn’t expect to see you so early.” And how did you get in?

  Hank held up the envelope. “I just wanted to pick up something of mine. I guess I should have waited until you got here, but I have to get going.”

  “Going where?”

  He shrugged. “No point in hanging around here, is there? Cousin Richard was my only connection to this place, and he’s gone.”

  “But what about your classes at the college? You have to have a place to live.”

  “Yeah, well, maybe I can get an apartment in Lancaster.” He shoved the envelope into the pocket of his windbreaker.

  “What is that?” She eased back a step. It wasn’t that she was afraid of Hank. But why didn’t Jacob come?

  “It’s just the letter my grandmother wrote to introduce me to Cousin Richard.” His usually cheerful expression shifted to sorrow. “I don’t have much from her now, so I wanted to keep the letter.”

  “Is that why you took the photo from the album, too?” The words were out before it occurred to her that it might not be wise to confront Hank.

  For a moment the sorrow lingered on his face, as if he’d
forgotten to change his expression. Then his features hardened, making him look older. Tougher.

  “So you figured that out, did you? I should have known you would, a smart girl like you. Strickland had a habit of writing on the backs of photos, unfortunately. He must have been getting suspicious of me, since he went looking for a photo of my supposed grandmother.”

  Her anger flared at the derogatory note in his voice, but she said nothing. There was no sense in antagonizing Hank even more.

  “So you know I wasn’t the person he thought. It doesn’t matter now. Strickland died before I could get anything out of him.”

  “What did you do to him?” The anger boiled over at the memory of Mr. Strickland lying on the stairs.

  “Nothing, nothing.” Hank held up both hands in a gesture of innocence. “Trust me, he’s no good to me dead. As long as he was alive and thinking I was his long-lost cousin, I had a chance to cash in on that. Now—well, now it’s time for me to disappear.” He patted the pocket with the letter. “It just makes good sense not to leave anything behind to make the police curious.”

  A shiver slid down her spine. Did he mean her?

  He grinned, his mobile face once again youthful and harmless. “Relax, Sarah. I’m a con man, not a killer, if you even know what that means. I’m just going to walk outside, jump in my car and drive away. If you have a soft spot for me, you might delay calling the cops until I’m out of town.”

  Before she could say a word, he’d darted past her and out the door. A moment later she heard the roar of his car’s engine.

  Footsteps pounded and Jacob rushed in. “Was he in the house? What’s going on? Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine.” She put up her hand at the volley of questions. “I have to call Chief Byler. I’ll tell both of you at once.”

  * * *

  JACOB HAD NO INTEREST in sitting in a police station, even with someone as friendly and understanding as Chief Byler. But Sarah had to be here, so he was, as well.