Meghan’s face didn’t reflect joy, however. Tears winked in her eyes as she settled her gaze on him. “It’s so sad.”
Sean’s smile faded. “What’s sad?”
“What this says. ‘Yet a little while…’ Life is too short. I only have two people in my family—Mom and Grandma. Grandma’s almost eighty and she’s sick. Who knows how long she’ll be around? Then when Mom’s gone, it’ll just be me.” She sniffed. “I don’t like to think about the people I love not being here anymore.”
He closed the gap between them and gave her the cell phone. “I think you’re looking at the verse wrong. You can’t stop there. You have to continue until the end.” The way he’d read to the end of the Bible. Victory awaited all who believed.
He squatted and touched the final words with his fingertips. “Look—‘Because I live, ye shall live also.’ If your grandparents chose that verse, then I would say they believed in the saving grace of Jesus. They knew that earthly death leads to eternal spiritual life. They’re still living, Meghan. They’re enjoying a life that will never end.”
She gazed down at him. Sunlight sneaked between leaves to dot her perspiration-dampened face. “You’re talking about heaven, right?”
“Right.” He straightened and brushed grass from his trousers. “There’s another verse, also in John 14, also Jesus talking. He says, ‘If I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am.’ He’s referring to when He returns, but any believer whose body dies before that day is also taken to Him.”
Sean slipped his hands into his pockets and rocked on his heels. “I chose to believe that when I was eight years old because my granddad died and I wanted to be sure I would see him again. My motivation for accepting Jesus as my Savior was a little skewed and selfish, but over the years, as my parents guided me in growing in faith, I came to realize what a gift Jesus gave me by saving me. Not only for eternity, but for now.”
Meghan tipped her head. A strand of hair, pulled loose from her usual ponytail, waved alongside her cheek. “What do you mean?”
He anchored the hair behind her ear before answering, his finger trailing across her cheek. Her moist skin was as soft as he’d imagined. He pushed his hand into his pocket to keep from repeating the action. “While I’m here on earth, I have a constant companion so I’m never alone. When I’m not sure what to do, He’s my guide. When I’m weak, He strengthens me. When I’m frustrated, He calms me. I can’t imagine living without Him, and I can’t imagine eternity separated from Him.”
The joy of salvation rolled through him again, and a smile broke on his face without effort. “My folks are gone now, too, like Granddad and Nana Eagle and my other grandparents, who died even before I was born, but I’ll see them again someday. They believed, and they’re already in their heavenly mansions. I like to think they’re saving a place for me at the banquet table.”
Meghan sighed and returned her attention to the stones. “It’s a nice thought.”
Sean put his hand on her shoulder. “It’s more than a thought, Meghan. It’s truth.” He pointed to the carved letters on her grandparents’ gravestone. “ ‘Because I live, ye shall live also.’ Jesus’s death on Calvary gave us the chance for life eternal. You can live forever with Him. All you have to do is believe.” His heart caught, and without conscious thought, a prayer lifted. Let her believe, Father.
Meghan
Something deep inside of her pulled, creating a sweet ache in the center of her chest. Sean’s words, combined with Grandma’s teachings from the past and some of the things she’d heard at Grandma’s church, tickled her mind and tapped at her heart. “All you have to do is believe.” Could it really be that simple?
“I want to do what you just said—believe.”
He leaned forward slightly, his face innocent and eager. “What’s stopping you?”
She searched for the right words. “If…if I chose to believe right now, it would be for the same reason you did when you were a child. But I’m not eight years old. I’m beyond the age of intentionally making a selfish choice. Faith is too important to Grandma”—and to you—“for me to play at it. When I believe, I need to make sure I’m doing it for the right reason, okay?”
His smile didn’t indicate disappointment, but she sensed he’d been hoping she’d say something else. “Okay.” He glanced at his wristwatch and frowned. “The morning’s getting away from us. How about we find your grandmother’s farmhouse, take a few pictures there, then head back to the orphanage? Hopefully Mrs. Durdan will be back.”
For reasons she couldn’t explain, her desire to see the farmhouse had diminished. “Let’s go to the orphanage now. I’m eager to find out what the woman remembers.”
Back in the truck, Sean drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “You know, it’s well past eleven—lunchtime. Probably not the best time of day to bother somebody. How about we drive to Bentonville and get some lunch? Then we’ll come back and go to the orphanage.”
“Do you mind making so many back-and-forth trips?”
He shrugged. “It’s not that far. And I don’t know what else we’ll do about eating. There’s only the little gas station here, and I doubt there’s much more than candy bars and potato chips available.” He grimaced. “I’d rather have something substantial.”
Meghan couldn’t argue with his reasoning.
“Besides, grabbing lunch in Bentonville will give Mrs. Durdan plenty of time to return from wherever she went and get settled before we swoop in on her.”
A worry struck. “You don’t think she’s left for several days, do you?”
“With her garage door up?”
Meghan groaned. Why hadn’t she thought of that? Some detective she’d turned out to be.
Sean chuckled. “You know what, I just got another idea. Let’s go to the orphans’ home. If the car is still gone, I’ll leave a note on one of my cards and wedge it into the screen-door frame. Then we can get some lunch and relax at the hotel and wait for her to call. What do you think?”
“I think that makes a lot of sense.”
He grinned. “Good.” He started the engine and put the truck in drive. “An hour or so at the hotel’ll also give you a chance to text those pictures to your grandma and maybe give her a call and talk to her a bit.”
She liked that idea, too. “Sounds perfect.”
“Good. Let’s go.”
She and Sean didn’t talk as he drove back to Bentonville. She was weary, as tired as if she’d run a marathon, and his face wore a mask of internal contemplation. Whatever he was thinking—or praying—about, she didn’t want to disturb him. So she remained silent.
He pulled into a drive-through and ordered chicken-finger baskets. Then, with the smell of the food tormenting them, they returned to the hotel. His suite was bigger, but Meghan’s room was closer to the lobby, so they ate at the desk in her room. When they finished, he headed to his suite and left her alone to call Grandma. Mom answered.
“Hey, how come you’ve got Grandma’s phone?”
“She’s resting. And get this—Miney is in there with her.”
Meghan pulled the phone from her ear, gaped at it for two seconds, then put it close again. “You’re making that up.”
“No, I’m not. Sunday after church she let Miney sit with her in her chair, and after that she patted her leg to encourage her to follow wherever she went. She told me this morning after breakfast she wouldn’t mind keeping Miney after I go home.”
“And you told her to forget it.”
“You bet I did! Part with one of my babies? Not a chance.” Mom snickered. “But after she’s recovered from her surgery, maybe we’ll take her to the local animal-rescue society and see what’s available. I think she’d enjoy a little four-legged companion.”
Meghan’s chest tightened. “Have they set the official time for the surgery?”
“Yes. Nine thirty tomorrow morning. I’m to have her at the hospital by
seven thirty.”
She’d tell Sean. He’d pray for Grandma. Meghan hung her head and pressed her hand to her eyes. “You know, as much as I hate the reason for it, I think it’s good our vacation got postponed. And we might want to cancel it altogether.” She described the dilapidated appearance of Grandma’s former town. “I’m going to send a couple of pics Sean took at the cemetery of her parents’ headstone, but I’m not sure I want her to see the town the way it is. It’s pretty much…gone.” Like her great-grandparents were gone. Like Grandma might soon be gone.
She sat straight up and blurted, “Mom, do you ever think about heaven?”
A nervous-sounding laugh came through the phone. “What?”
“Heaven. Do you think about where you’re going after you die?”
“I try not to think about dying. It’s a depressing topic.”
“I’ve always thought so, too. But Sean…” She sighed. “Never mind. It’s too complicated to get into. I’m going to text Grandma the photos I took. Please make sure she sees them, okay? And I’ll call again either tonight or tomorrow morning before you go to the hospital so I can give her my love.”
“She knows you love her.”
For the first time Mom didn’t sound sarcastic or jealous when addressing Meghan’s love for Grandma. Her words seemed warm, affirming, accepting.
“And she loves you, too, as you well know.”
Meghan nodded. She knew. Her phone buzzed. She peeked at the screen. “Mom, Sean’s beeping in—he must have heard from the lady in Cumpton we need to see. I better go.”
“All right. Talk to you later.”
She quickly switched calls. “Hi. Did Mrs. Durdan call?”
Sean’s laughter rolled. “Yes, she did, and she wants us to come for dinner. Apparently the people in Cumpton are hungry for company.”
“So did you accept?”
“You bet I did. Pass up a home-cooked meal? Not this guy.” He laughed again. “Meet me in the lobby at four thirty. She’s expecting us promptly at five fifteen for appetizers. This ought to be an evening to remember.”
Thirty-Four
Kendrickson, Nevada
Hazel
Hazel padded into the living room, yawning. The long-haired dachshund named, of all the ridiculous things, Miney trotted alongside her, doggy smile with lolling tongue in place. She chuckled at the animal’s bouncing steps. Her love for animals had lain dormant for so many years. Just as letting her memories stir to life brought joy, allowing her affection for furry creatures to rise to the surface was a relief and a pleasure.
Even so, a hint of guilt hovered around her. She’d made a pledge long ago to never put an animal’s welfare ahead of a person’s. But did that have to mean she couldn’t enjoy the dog’s company? She would have to spend some time contemplating that question. After her surgery. In the meantime, the dogs were here. She might as well give them some attention.
Margaret Diane was curled in Hazel’s chair with an open book facedown on her leg. “Oh, you’re awake.”
Hazel glanced at the grandfather clock. Nearly three. She’d slept much of the afternoon away. “And high time, too. I thought you were going to wake me at two thirty so we could take the dachshunds out to John Wedman’s place before dinner?” The man had graciously offered to keep the dogs during Hazel’s hospital stay. How she appreciated her wonderful church friends.
A sheepish look crept across her daughter’s face. “I intended to. But when I looked in and saw both you and Miney sound asleep, I didn’t have the heart to bother you. So I catnapped out here. By the way, Meghan called.”
“She did? And I missed it?” Disappointment struck hard. “What did she say?”
“That she and Sean went to Cumpton today and took some pictures. She texted them to you if you want to peek.”
“Of course I want to peek!”
“Word of warning, Mother. Meghan said your folks’ headstone has divided into two. Probably because of tree roots. So don’t be shocked.”
Hazel held the phone at arm’s length and opened her text messages. Three photos waited for her. She examined each in turn. Little wonder tree roots had affected the sandstone marker—the tree had grown considerably in the years since her parents were laid in the earth. She sighed. “My, it’s been so long since I visited my mama’s and daddy’s graves that I forgot what they looked like. If you hadn’t reminded me about it all being one piece, I don’t know if I would have noticed.”
She sent a smile over the top of the phone to her daughter. “Most markers in the cemetery had a picture of some sort—angels or lambs or Bibles. Mama always wanted a dove carved on her headstone, but Daddy said doves were meant for potpie. That’s why there’s no image above their names.”
Margaret Diane released a half laugh, half snort. “He died first. So he wouldn’t have known if she put a dove on her half of the headstone.”
Hazel shook her head. “Oh, no, Mama always honored Daddy…even when he was cantankerous. That was the way of wives in those days.” She’d tried to follow her mother’s example, too, with Albert. Of course, Albert hadn’t tested her conviction the way Daddy had Mama’s.
Hazel looked at the picture with Meghan in front of the stones. Her granddaughter’s bowed head and slumped frame, even though the crutches were partially responsible, seemed reverent. Fitting for the setting. She might show it to Punk and Rachel’s granddaughter, who painted backdrops for the community theater. She’d like to have this picture representing different generations turned into a wall painting.
Hazel laid the phone on the end table. “Only three pictures? Surely they went to more places than the cemetery.”
Margaret Diane smiled and shrugged. “You’ll have to ask her when she calls. She said she’d call again tonight or tomorrow morning before your surgery.”
Hazel hoped it would be tonight. After her long nap, she’d probably have trouble falling asleep. Talking to Meghan would take her mind off tomorrow’s surgery, too. For now, there was something else she needed to think about. She put her hands on her hips. “All right, let’s get these dogs over to John’s before he thinks we’ve changed our minds about letting him puppysit, and then we need to figure out supper. Vegan fare, or something that will actually taste good?”
Margaret Diane burst out laughing.
Cumpton, Arkansas
Meghan
A newer-model sedan filled the stall that had been empty earlier at the orphanage garage. Sean parked under the tree in the same place as before, but this time Meghan got out, too. He stayed next to her as they crossed the uneven ground and dodged small tree branches littering the yard.
Sean stopped next to the concrete slab that served as a porch. He scratched his chin. “This could be tricky.”
Meghan agreed. The slab was at least twelve inches high. She’d gotten accustomed to navigating stairs, but most treads were eight inches in height, tops. She might need a boost from Sean this time. She balanced on her crutches and prepared to swing her foot onto the slab when the door opened, releasing a wonderful aroma. A woman, tall and willowy, paused on the threshold. If Meghan didn’t already know her age, she’d guess her somewhere between sixty and seventy-five. Her white hair flowed away from her rosy cheeks like soft wings, and her blue eyes sparkled with vitality.
Her eyes went wide and her mouth formed an O when her gaze met Meghan’s. “Goodness, honey, be careful now. I told Nolan—that was my husband, God rest his soul—when he poured our porch, he needed to make it not so high, but he wanted it to be harder for little critters to go nosin’ at our door.” Her voice, with its gentle southern twang, sounded almost musical. “Bless Nolan, being a city boy before he moved out here with me, he didn’t know a thing about the tenacity of wild critters. We still had mice and possums and the occasional skunk come callin’. The only creature the high stoop’s kept at a disadvantage is the human kind.”
By the time the woman finished her drawling speech, Meghan had managed to pull herself onto the
concrete, and Sean joined her with a lithe leap.
The woman pressed her hand to her chest and blew out a breath. “Well, now, you two come right on in. I’m Elaine Durdan, used to be Elaine Burton, but I suppose you already know that.” Mrs. Durdan held the door open with one hand and gestured them into the house with the other. She guided them to a round table in front of a row of waist-high windows looking out on a thick patch of pines and maples. A wood plate with a glass dome was already in the middle of the table, as well as two sets of tongs, dessert-sized plates, and napkins.
“Detective DeFord, Detective Eagle, sit yourselves down there. Munch on the cheese, grapes, and crackers while I finish our dinner preparations. Now, it’s nothing special—baked chicken with herb stuffing and some of my home-canned green beans. It might not be fancy, but there’ll be plenty. I still can’t seem to get used to cooking for one. I gave up fostering children eleven years ago when Nolan died, but before that there were always half a dozen or so youngsters crowded around the dining room table. These days I sit in here by myself, and my table seems so lonely. It’s a real treat to have guests tonight.”
Sean pulled out Meghan’s chair, then took her crutches and leaned them in the corner. “Believe me, Mrs. Durdan, the treat is ours. When we’re on an assignment, we mostly eat at fast-food restaurants. If dinner tastes half as good as it smells, we’re going to leave here happy this evening.”
She laughed and tugged oven mitts over her hands. “I hope you’ll leave here happy for more reasons than a full belly. I’d like to give you as much help as possible with your investigation. I’ve never been involved in something so excitin’.” She removed a beautifully browned chicken from the oven and set it on the butcher-block counter. “But I don’t know why you think I can help.”
Meghan rested her hands on the table. “Mr. and Mrs. Yarberry gave us your name. They said your mother traveled all over the county and may have seen something questionable. We’re investigating the possible abduction of several children between 1937 and 1946, including a three-year-old named Maggie Blackwell from here in Cumpton in 1943.”
Bringing Maggie Home Page 27
