by Ruth Reid
It was early evening by the time the tomatoes were canned and the laundry was dry. Faith stood over the basket and unclipped the clothes from the line, breathing in the fresh aroma. She appreciated the flowery scent on her dresses after hanging outside.
Buggy wheels crunched over the gravel driveway. Bishop Zook climbed out of one buggy and two of the elders piled out of another. The three men ambled up the porch steps. A visit this close to suppertime was odd. Perhaps the bishop wanted to give Daed a count of hay since the men had cleared the fields earlier that day.
She clambered up the porch steps. “Gut afternoon, Bishop.”
“Hello, Faith. I hope your father is up to having visitors.”
“I’m sure he is.” She opened the door, then followed her mother into the kitchen.
Mamm removed four mugs from the cabinet. “Would you put some cookies on a plate while I pour the kaffi?”
“Sure.” Faith set the laundry basket on the table, then selected the cookies that hadn’t burned and placed them on a plate.
Daed was smiling when Faith and Mamm took the coffee and cookies into the sitting room. “Irma,” Daed said, unable to contain his excitement. “We’ve been given a horse and buggy. Isn’t that a nice surprise?”
“Ach! That’s wunderbaar!” Mamm clasped her hand over her mouth as tears collected on her lashes.
“That’s very nice,” Faith said. Her family was blessed to be part of such a giving district. The outpouring of help with the meals, the crops, and now their finances brought tears to her eyes.
Bishop Zook tapped Faith’s arm. “Perhaps you can take the mare to the barn.”
“I’d be happy to. What’s the horse’s name?”
“I was told it’s called Starlight,” the bishop replied.
Faith slipped out the front door, silently praising God for His providence. She stole a peek at the new-to-them buggy, then untied the horse’s reins from the post and walked Starlight to the barn.
Gideon’s buggy pulled into the yard. He stopped at the fence. “Faith, is something wrong?”
“Nay, something wunderbaar happened!” She dried her face using her dress sleeve. “We’ve been given this lovely horse and buggy by the district.”
“That’s gut news.” He helped unhitch the buggy, then opened the barn door for Faith to walk the horse inside.
Faith led the mare into an empty stall. “Isn’t she a beauty?”
“She is,” he said.
She nudged his shoulder with hers. “You’re nett looking at the horse.”
He grinned. “The mare looks okay too.”
His adorable dimples had a way of releasing tingles throughout her body. She snatched the water bucket from the floor. “You’re a flirt, Gideon.”
“Only with you.”
She went outside to the pump and put her nervous energy into a strong thrust of the handle. The bucket filled in seconds. She lugged the fresh water into the barn and lowered the bucket into the stall. As she filled a tin can with oats, Gideon tossed hay down from the loft.
He climbed down the ladder. “Olivia’s money jar is gone.”
“Gone?”
He nodded. “She probably heard the men were going to put up the hay today and moved it.”
“Or she was worried I would take it.” Her sister had made it clear she didn’t trust Faith. “I almost told Mamm about Olivia, but I couldn’t. Mamm already feels she hasn’t been a gut steward, I couldn’t have her thinking she hasn’t raised us right.” She sighed. “I hope Olivia comes to her senses. She won’t find peace in the world.”
“Some people have to discover that the hard way.” He scooped an armful of hay and headed to the mare’s stall.
Chapter 25
Bloomfield Hills, Michigan
Present day
Roslyn paused outside of the police station and drew a deep breath to calm her nerves. The temperature gauge displayed on the building read ninety-two degrees, yet she was shivering as though it was early March. She turned to Chrisla. “What if the detective refuses to reopen the case?”
“You could always whisper a prayer for wisdom.”
“Don’t start.” Roslyn hadn’t uttered a prayer in years. Divine guidance happened in Bible stories, not in her life.
Chrisla reached for the door handle, but stopped. “Everything’s going to work out.”
“I want to believe that, but I . . .” Roslyn chewed her bottom lip and the waxy lipstick caused her stomach to roil. When she’d called to set up an appointment, she hadn’t recognized the detective’s name. At one time she knew all their names, their badge numbers too. She’d threatened the entire department more than once with filing a formal complaint. But in the end, even if a case was deemed open, if it lacked productive leads, it might as well be closed—the trail was cold.
Chrisla nudged Roslyn’s arm with her elbow, then opened the door. “C’mon.”
The front lobby was small and uninviting with its cement floor and metal chairs on opposing walls. Roslyn gave her name to the woman behind the administration window. “I have an appointment with Detective Bailey.”
The woman made a quick phone call, then buzzed them through. “Fourth door on the right,” she said.
A familiar coldness clung to the gunmetal walls, while their heels clacking on the cement floor echoed down the narrow hallway. She’d been down this passage hundreds of times, walking into the office filled with hope only to leave weighted in hopelessness.
A tall man with a flattop haircut, dressed in a long sleeved white shirt, dark slacks, and a wide belt sporting a shiny badge clipped at his waist, met her outside the office. Following him was a shorter man whom, once he stepped into view, she recognized as Detective Henderson. The last fifteen years had leathered his face and deepened the lines across his forehead, as well as thinned his now silvery-white hair.
The younger man extended his hand. “Good afternoon, I’m Detective Bailey. I believe you already know Detective Henderson.”
Roslyn shook the younger man’s hand, then greeted Detective Henderson. Over the years, Henderson had listened to her sob and rant when nothing was getting done—all with the patience of a saint.
Chrisla cleared her throat. “I’m Roslyn’s sister.” She offered her hand first to Bailey, then Henderson.
“Shall we go sit down?” The younger man motioned to the office.
Roslyn and Chrisla sat next to each other at the conference table while the two detectives took chairs on the opposite side.
Detective Bailey opened the conversation. “First, I’d like to say that even though I wasn’t working for Oakland County PD at the time of your daughter’s kidnapping, I am familiar with the case. Also, Detective Henderson filled me in on a few of the missing details after you set up the appointment. I understand you have new information about your daughter’s abduction.”
Roslyn’s throat went dry. Technically, Chrisla’s drawings were not new information as it pertained to evidence, which she had led the detective to believe over the phone in order to secure an appointment. Now she had to come clean. “The Detroit News is interested in doing a story on Adriana, and I thought if you would reopen the case . . .”
Bailey’s brows slanted. “I’m sorry. I don’t think I’m following you, Mrs. Colepepper. Has a reporter obtained new information?”
“The first weekend in September will mark fifteen years that my daughter’s been missing.” She turned her attention to Detective Henderson. “Adriana’s alive.” Roslyn nudged her sister. “Show them your drawings.”
Chrisla unzipped her portfolio, removed the artwork, and arranged the images to face the men. Leaning forward, she pointed to the individual drawings and described how she depicted Adriana’s age, then sat back so they could study them quietly themselves.
Bailey looked up, frowning sympathetically. “I know it’s only natural for you to revisit the incidents leading up to the kidnapping as it gets closer to Labor Day weekend, but without new information
, we just don’t have the manpower to reinvestigate your daughter’s case. I’m sorry.”
Roslyn leaned forward. “The kidnappers changed cars multiple times and the FBI found no evidence that Adriana was even in the Yugo.” She rested her hands on the table, clenched her fists, then relaxed them. “You’re right, there’s rarely a day that I don’t mull over every step I took in the grocery store, crossing the parking lot, putting the groceries in my car. But I’ve also counted the hours over and over between the abduction and the car going off the bridge. I can still vividly see that Yugo resurfacing in Lake Huron, water draining from every crevice. But what I don’t see, Detective Bailey”—she narrowed her eyes at the investigator—“is my daughter in that car.”
The younger man’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “True,” he finally uttered. “But any DNA would have been destroyed the moment it submerged in the water.”
“Your records should show how far the car window was down, and now you have the ability to digitally reenact the car going off the bridge. Based on the angles you calculate, I believe you’ll discover the new evidence you need to open the case. My daughter wasn’t in the car when it came up from the water and her body never surfaced. She wasn’t in that car when it went over the bridge. She couldn’t have been.”
Detective Henderson cleared his throat. “Mrs. Colepepper, you’ve brought up a good point. The case was closed a number of years ago and since then, technology has improved. I would like to oversee a new investigation—pending data analysis, of course.”
Roslyn’s heart quickened its pace, and she barely felt her sister take her hand and give it a light squeeze. This was the news she’d wanted so desperately to hear.
Bailey rubbed his jaw. “I can’t promise you much unless evidence supports those findings. And as for the drawings,” he said, redirecting his attention to Chrisla, “we have computers to generate age-advanced images, which are highly accurate.”
“I understand,” Chrisla said.
Antsy to call the reporter, Roslyn stood. “I’ll post a big enough reward that every young woman with even a vague resemblance to my daughter will be turned in to the hotline.”
Chapter 26
Posen, Michigan
Present day
Tension swarmed the kitchen as Faith and Olivia worked around each other preparing supper. As Mamm had requested, they moved the table and chairs into the sitting room so that Daed didn’t have to move far.
“How was work?” Faith asked her sister.
Olivia stirred the green beans. “Busy. We could have used more help.”
Now you know how I’ve felt. Faith removed the plates from the cabinet. She fought back the urge to remind Olivia of all the times she either didn’t show up or left early, including the day the restaurant was robbed. Let it go.
Olivia poured the beans into a bowl. “Are you working tomorrow?”
“All day,” Faith said through gritted teeth. She walked the dishes into the sitting room and placed them on the table.
“Do you girls need help?” Mamm started to rise from the chair.
“Nay, we have it under control,” Faith insisted. Both of her parents appeared weary when, after receiving such a wonderful gift of a horse and buggy, they should be rejoicing over God’s blessing. Faith had to say something to Olivia. No more secrets.
“Olivia, are you aware the restaurant books didn’t balance? The restaurant is losing money. Do you have any thoughts on why that may be?”
Olivia removed the pot roast from the oven. “Why would—hey, wait a minute.” She set down the pan and faced Faith. “Are you trying to say that I have something to do with it?”
“You have a lot of money stashed, more money than a waitress—”
Olivia’s nostrils flared.
“I overhead Mamm and Daed talking about the hospital bill.” Faith paused, but Olivia said nothing. “The family’s in financial trouble . . . Liv, are you even listening?”
She tossed the potholders on the counter. “What do you want me to say?”
“That you’ll give Mamm and Daed the money hidden in the barn. I gave them everything I had. The members of our district provided a horse and buggy . . .”
“You told them about the money?”
“Nay,” Faith said, picking up the bowl of beans. “Olivia, do what’s right. Please.” She took the food into the other room and placed it on the table.
This time Mamm stood and followed her back into the kitchen.
Faith grabbed the salt and pepper shakers and the bread and butter dishes while Olivia carried the pot roast and Mamm the pitcher of milk.
Conversation at the table revolved around the garden and canning. The new horse and how much hay the men had cleared from the fields. Once they had eaten, Faith and Olivia moved the table back into the kitchen and cleaned up the dishes in silence.
Faith yawned. “I’m going to bed.”
Olivia followed her out of the kitchen but turned toward the front door.
“Olivia,” Daed said sternly, “your mother and I want to talk with you.”
“Gut nacht everyone.” Faith hurried up the stairs. The last time her father had used that tone, Olivia had been caught lying about something. Faith knelt next to the bed. Lord, please open Olivia’s eyes. Don’t let her become ensnared by the world. I worry about her soul. I also pray for Daed and Mamm. Give them wisdom and the right words of correction. Please bless our family. Heal mei daed’s leg. Amen.
Faith changed into her nightclothes and crawled between the sheets. She closed her eyes, her body becoming part of the mattress.
Sometime later, the door opened and closed hard. “Thanks a lot,” Olivia snipped.
Faith stayed facing the wall.
“I know you’re nett sleeping. I should have known you would tell them about the money. You sabotaged mei dreams—mei plans. You’re nett mei schweschaler. Do you hear me?”
Faith clamped her lips tight. Even if she placed her hand on the Bible, Olivia wouldn’t believe Faith had nothing to do with their parents finding out.
Olivia’s accusations last night had prevented Faith from getting much sleep, but she slipped out of the house early to collect the eggs. Forcing herself to focus on something other than her sister, she created a mental list of things she could do to help promote farm-fresh products at the restaurant. Information cards at each table would save the cost involved in printing new menus. Perhaps she should research grass-fed beef. She placed the egg in the basket and moved to the next nesting box.
Gideon cleared his throat. “Am I still driving you to work?”
“I forgot we have a horse and buggy nau. I better find out what mei parents want me to do.” She collected the last egg and placed it in the basket.
“Maybe I should drive you. After all, you don’t know much about that horse yet.”
Faith smiled. “You’re right about the horse.”
“And your parents might need to go somewhere,” he added.
Gideon didn’t have to convince her. She’d rather ride into town with him. “Can you give me a few minutes? You can kumm inside and have kaffi.”
He motioned to Bay. “I’ll wait in the buggy.”
Faith hurried back to the house, the rich aroma of coffee meeting her at the door. She rounded the wall to the kitchen and stopped. On the center of the table was Olivia’s jar of money.
Mamm looked up from the stove. “I’m making pancakes. How many would you like?”
“None for me. Gideon is giving me a ride into work, and I don’t want to keep him waiting.” She lifted the basket. “Do you want me to take the eggs to work or do you need them?”
“Leave me a half dozen and take the rest.” She flipped the pancake.
Olivia walked into the kitchen yawning.
Faith counted out six eggs, placed them in a bowl, then picked up the basket. “Guder mariye, Olivia.”
Her sister glared.
Faith ignored Olivia’s daggers and went to the door. “Se
e you tonight.” She left before Mamm suggested taking Olivia into town with them. Her sister could try out the new horse.
“Something wrong?” Gideon asked once they were on the main road.
“Mamm and Daed know about Olivia’s money. Of course, mei sister blames me for spilling the beans.”
“She’ll kumm around.”
“You didn’t see the look Olivia gave me. She may never talk to me again.”
“Olivia’s just upset she got caught. Give her time to cool down. Your parents needed to know. It was for the best.”
“I don’t know if they found the money or if Olivia gave it back, but the jar was on the table this morning.”
“Gut.” Gideon smiled.
Faith gazed out the window at the stalks of flowering thimbleweed scattered over the hillside. Only God could create such a beautiful landscape with weeds. She loved this time of the day when the temperature was still cool and the sun wasn’t much over the horizon.
In light traffic, the trip to town went fast. Gideon pulled into the parking spot next to Catherine’s buggy. “Do you think you might have some free time later this afternoon to go fishing?”
She smiled. “Perhaps.”
As Gideon walked her to the back door, a buggy pulled into the driveway and stopped. Lois climbed out, then waved good-bye to her husband. She waited at the door for Faith and Gideon. “Guder mariye.”
“Mariye,” Faith replied.
“I ran into your mamm yesterday and she asked if I could help out today.”
“What about the kinner?”
“Mei niece volunteered to watch them.”
Faith turned the doorknob. Locked. She knocked. “I forgot to grab mei keys,” she explained.
Catherine let them in. “You’ll never guess what I found resting against the door this morning.” She didn’t wait for any of them to guess. “A package.” She picked up a large envelope from off the counter and handed it to Faith.
“Look—look inside,” she said, sounding giddy.
Faith peered into the envelope. “I don’t understand.”
Gideon stepped closer. “What is it?”
