When Secrets Strike

by Marta Perry

  “He’s a police officer. He has to think that way.” Aaron’s fingers curled around her hand. “He’ll probably want to ask you more questions about how we came to the house to begin with.”

  “Well, I’ll tell him.” She struggled to think, past the feelings his touch generated. “We were together for probably a good hour before we went to the house, so you couldn’t have been there attacking Matthew. And you certain sure wouldn’t have taken me to the house if you’d known Matthew was dead. Anyone would know that.”

  She felt Aaron’s tension slip away at her words.

  “You’re right. I hadn’t thought of it that way.” He blew out a breath. “Denke, Sarah. You are always sensible, ain’t so?”

  Sensible Sarah. Good friend Sarah. He’d probably meant the words as praise, but they seemed to strike at her already shaky control. How sensible was it to love a man who’d never think of you as more than a friend?

  He clasped her hand briefly as if to thank her. “It will all straighten out. And it’s in God’s hands, as always.”

  Words pressed against Sarah’s lips, but they were words that must never be said, and her eyes prickled with tears he mustn’t see. She rose abruptly, fighting the impulse to run into the house.

  “I’ll talk to Mac. He’ll see sense. Don’t worry.”

  Aaron stood, maybe taken aback by her abrupt action. “I won’t. Denke, Sarah. I’m sorry I disturbed you so late. Good night.”

  He stepped quickly off the porch and a moment later the darkness had swallowed him up. Sarah stood where she was, clutching the railing. If only she could make it up to the privacy of her room before Daad wanted to know what Aaron had had to say...

  She closed her eyes, but could still see Aaron’s face, could still feel his presence. What was she doing? What kind of a person was she?

  Her common sense told her that she ought to be steering clear of him as much as possible. Nothing good could come of exposing herself to so much temptation.

  But that was impossible. Aaron was her friend, if nothing else. He was in trouble, and she had to help him. Even if that meant running the risk of ruining everything by letting him see her true feelings.

  * * *

  “LOOK AT THIS!” Allison was excited enough to carry her laptop to the table where Sarah and her mother were looking over a quilt to be repaired the next afternoon. “Is it or is it not the same as the quilt in Julia’s photo?”

  Sarah was glad to have something to focus on other than the talk she’d had earlier with Mac, who’d been very much the police official this morning. She studied the image on the computer screen, comparing it with the photo Allison held up.

  “It’s certainly similar,” she said, feeling someone needed to remain cautious. “The detail isn’t really good enough on that old picture to be positive. What do you think, Mamm?”

  Her mother adjusted her glasses to peer at the image. “Close, that’s certain sure. You can see the arrangement of this block with the lilac on it next to the one with the rose appliqué.”

  “Where did you find it?” Sarah tried to make out the name of the website, but Allison had enlarged the image to take up the full screen.

  “It’s for sale at a shop in Lititz. If it is the same one, the dealer certainly ought to be able to tell us where he got it and from whom. That would settle matters.” Allison looked ready to go and do battle with any number of dealers.

  “If,” Sarah repeated. “Album quilts are often signed and dated. Sometimes every block has the name of the person who made it, especially if it was for a wedding gift. So knowing the name of the person who made Julia’s quilt would help. And the date, of course.”

  “Didn’t you tell me Julia was going to look for more information?” Mamm asked. “She might could give you more to go on, ain’t so?”

  Allison nodded, seizing the laptop back. “And even if she hasn’t, we should show her this image. It might jog her memory. Let’s stop by and see. If she can help at all, we might just run over to Lititz and talk to the dealer.”

  Sarah hadn’t yet gotten used to the way Allison darted from place to place. “We could call him,” she suggested.

  “It’s always better to tackle a difficult subject in person. If we call, he might think we’re accusing him of some illegality, and refuse to help.”

  She could plead that her back was aching, which it was, but then Mamm would insist she go home and lie down, and Sarah would rather be busy. And Allison’s enthusiasm was infectious. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if they could find Julia’s quilt?

  “What if Mac wants to talk to me again?”

  “Then he can just talk to you later. There’s really nothing more you can tell him, anyway. Hannah, you don’t mind watching the shop for a bit, do you?”

  Mamm shook her head. “As long as I know Sarah is with you and not off on her own.”

  “I’ll stick to her like glue,” Allison said. She nudged Sarah. “Come on. Let’s go.”

  Allison hustled her out to the car and in a few minutes they were approaching Julia’s front door.

  “I suppose it’s useless to hope Donna isn’t here, since that’s her car.” Allison rang the doorbell. “She and Julia are bound to disagree about the quilt, and I—”

  The door opened, cutting short whatever Allison had intended to say. It was indeed Donna, looking disapproving at the sight of them.

  “I don’t think—” she began, but Allison was already in the door and past her.

  “Julia will want to see us,” she said, perfectly assured. “You can go back to whatever you were doing. We don’t want to interrupt.”

  That seemed to leave Donna speechless, and Sarah followed Allison into the living room. Maybe she ought to adopt Allison’s confident way of dealing with Donna. It certainly seemed to work.

  Julia was trying to stand up from her chair. “Drat the woman. I told her I’d bop her with my walker if she turned away any more visitors.”

  The rattle of pans declared that Donna had retired to the kitchen, and Sarah urged Julia back into the recliner. “I’m sure she was just trying to help.”

  The older woman snorted, but Allison distracted her by plopping the computer on the tray table that sat next to her chair. “Look what I found. Is it the same quilt?”

  Sarah shook her head slightly, but Allison wasn’t fazed. She didn’t seem to realize that her enthusiasm could easily sway Julia’s opinion.

  But Julia took her time, peering at the computer image. “It looks like the same one to me. Yes, I’m sure it is.” She minimized the image, obviously more familiar with computers than Sarah, and studied the shop’s main page. “So what is this Antiques and Collectibles store doing with my quilt?”

  “That’s what we hope to find out. We’re going over there to talk to the owner.”

  “But it would help if we had some way of identifying the quilt for certain,” Sarah said, giving her partner a warning glance. “If your quilt had a signature—that would make it certain sure. Were you able to find any information that might help?”

  The swinging door to the kitchen opened, letting Donna through. She was carrying a tray with glasses of lemonade. Four glasses, Sarah saw. Obviously she meant to join the party.

  “I thought you could do with a cold drink on such a hot day.” She’d recovered her gracious manner. “Did I hear you say you found my cousin’s quilt?”

  “We may have,” Sarah said. “There’s an image on the computer of a quilt for sale that may be the one.”

  Donna swung the computer screen around so that she could see it. After a moment she shook her head. “I thought that quilt of yours had more pink and rose color in it.”

  “It did not.” Julia joined battle instantly. “I think I know my own great-grandmother’s quilt when I see it.” She gave a satisfied smile. “What�
�s more, here’s the proof.” From the depths of the cushions behind her, she pulled out a book. “My mother’s family Bible. There’s a family tree that shows the names and dates they all lived.”

  “Where did you find that?” Donna asked. “I’ve never seen it before.”

  “You don’t know everything I have,” Julia replied.

  Allison was already perusing the family tree printed in fading ink inside the cover. Sarah leaned closer to see for herself as Allison traced back through generations of the Herrington family.

  “Would this be her?” She planted her finger on a name. “Margaret Herrington, born 1860, died 1895, Baltimore.”

  “She wasn’t very old when she died,” Sarah commented, but Allison didn’t answer, obviously intent on the family tree.

  “That’s right. If I took much stock in such things, I could brag about the Herringtons of Baltimore.” Julia’s mischievous grin made her resemble an elderly monkey. “I’m pretty sure the quilt was embroidered with her name or some such thing.”

  Allison pulled out her cell phone. “Let’s see if I can get a photo of the page. Then if the dealer is inclined to argue, we’ll have proof.” She carried it over to the window and snapped several photos, then brought the Bible back to Julia.

  “Take good care of it,” she said. “You may need it to prove ownership if the quilt was stolen.”

  “Stolen, indeed,” Donna exclaimed. “How could anyone get into the attic to steal anything? Anyway, I’m sure you sold it yourself, years ago. All this fuss, and you’re going to be embarrassed when the dealer proves it.”

  “I can stand a little embarrassment at my age,” Julia said drily.

  Allison was already putting away the phone and gathering up the computer. She obviously intended to head straight to Lititz to confront the dealer.

  “Just a minute before you go.” Julia put out a hand to detain them. “What’s this I hear about Matthew Gibson being dead?”

  Sarah’s stomach lurched. She didn’t want to go over it again, but obviously she’d have to.

  “That’s right. Aaron King and I found him last night. We happened to see a car in the driveway and went to see if he’d arrived...”

  Julia patted her hand. “So sorry you were the one to find him. But don’t feel too bad. He’d had a long life, and he was probably ready to go, don’t you think? The heart went out of him when he lost his wife. He came back to see the old place one more time, I suppose.”

  “Something like that.” She evaded a direct answer.

  “Did you know he was coming?” Donna asked the question Sarah had hoped to avoid.

  “I’d heard. He called Aaron to let him know he was coming.”

  “Aaron? Why Aaron? I’d think he’d have gotten in touch with your mother. She was the one always taking in meals to him.” Julia’s sharp eyes zeroed in on Sarah.

  “He and Aaron had been in contact. You see, Aaron had hoped to buy the farm. He’s eager to get a place close to his parents.”

  “And Gibson sold to some out-of-state company instead, I hear.” Julia shook her head. “Maybe I’m old-fashioned, but I don’t like seeing the land going off to strangers from outside. Who knows what they might do? I had one of them bothering me to sell that property of mine, you know.”

  “No, I didn’t know. Did it happen to be Evergreen Corporation?” If that company was buying up more land, it had to mean something.

  Julia frowned. “I don’t remember. I didn’t bother much about listening to the details, to tell the truth. I just told them it wasn’t for sale.”

  Donna put glasses back on the tray. “About time you got rid of it. It’s just one more thing to pay taxes on, and it’s not like you have any use for it.” She carried the tray toward the kitchen. “Not that you’ll listen to common sense.” She swished through the swing door.

  “None of her business,” Julia muttered. “You’d think the property belonged to her, the way she tells me what to do.”

  “I’m sure she doesn’t mean any harm,” Sarah said, hoping to calm Julia down before they left. Sarah glanced at Allison. “If you really are set on getting to Lititz today, I suppose we should go.”

  They’d nearly reached the door when Julia called Sarah’s name. She turned, to find the woman looking at her with an impish grin. “Tell you what. You have Aaron King come to see me one of these days. If I do end up selling that property, I’d a lot rather it went to someone like him who would farm it.”

  The clatter of dishes from the kitchen seemed to punctuate the words. “That... I’m sure he’d be wonderful happy to talk to you about it,” Sarah said.

  She shouldn’t get too excited. After all, that land hadn’t been farmed in years, and it was a little farther from the King place than Aaron probably wanted. Still, it was something good that might come of all the troubles that had beset the community lately. “I’ll tell him the next time I see him.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  ALLISON GLANCED AT her once they were on the road to Lititz. “I’m sure Julia meant that about the property. Will Aaron be interested in it?”

  “I don’t know. The land hasn’t been farmed for years, so it might take a lot to get it in shape again, besides all the building he’d have to do. He’d need a house, a barn and some other outbuildings. But I’ll tell him.”

  “It would still be reasonably close to his family’s farm. And to yours,” she added.

  Allison had almost managed to make it sound as if Sarah would be living at Aaron’s new place.

  “Being close to his family is what matters to Aaron.”

  Allison’s lips twitched. “Maybe so. But you two seem to be spending a lot of time together lately.”

  “Because you pushed him into helping me with finding a place for the festival,” Sarah reminded her.

  “You finished that days ago, remember? Come on, tell me. Hasn’t he shown any signs that he looks at you as something other than an old friend?”

  “Not...not exactly.”

  “I knew there was something!” Allison said triumphantly. “Give. What did he say?”

  Sarah should have known better than to give anything away to Allison. Her persistence was unbounded. “He didn’t really say anything.” She seemed to feel Aaron’s fingers moving warmly on her wrist.

  “What did he do, then?”

  “Maybe I’m imagining it meant something. I can’t—”

  Allison braked, slowing the car. “Am I going to have to pull off the road to get you to talk?”

  “For goodness’ sake, don’t do that.” Sarah cast a nervous glance behind them, but nothing seemed to be bearing down on them. “He’s been very...well, worried about me. About my safety, I mean, with everything that’s happened. But that’s only natural.”

  “There’s more, right? Meaningful glances, holding your hand a little longer than he needs to? Touching you?”

  She couldn’t seem to deny it. “I guess. But maybe I’m imagining it,” she added quickly. “And he as good as told me that he doesn’t plan on marrying again.”

  Allison dismissed that with a wave of her hand. “I’d guess that a few million men have declared they weren’t going to marry. Right up until the time love hit them between the eyes.” She grinned. “Look at Nick.”

  “That’s different,” Sarah protested, although to tell the truth, it wasn’t, not really. “Anyway, there’s nothing I can do about it.”

  “Would it be against the rules to let him see, just a little, how you feel?”

  “I don’t know.” Sarah looked down at her hands, clasped in her lap. “I...I guess I’m afraid to risk it. If I let him see how I feel, and he doesn’t feel the same, then what? How could we go on from there?”

  Allison was silent for a few moments, and when she spoke, the laughter had gone out
of her voice. “I know. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t push you. It’s just...well, you have to take a risk once in a while. If you don’t, you’ll never know how it might have turned out.”

  Sarah let the words sink in. To never know what might have been between her and Aaron—how could she bear that? But how could she make the first move?

  When the silence stretched between them, Allison sighed. “I should change the subject, I suppose.”

  Sarah nodded. “That would be best, if you don’t want to reach the shop with me crying, I guess.”

  “Okay. I give up. For the moment, anyway. Did you know that they still haven’t finally determined the cause of Mr. Gibson’s death?”

  Sarah blinked, trying to adjust to the change of subject as well as the news. “So they can’t be sure anyone else was involved.”

  That was encouraging. Allison had undoubtedly picked up the latest from Nick. Mac didn’t seem to keep things from his brother.

  “Nope. Not yet, anyway.”

  “I still feel it must have been a natural death,” Sarah said firmly. “It just seems odd, because it was so unexpected to find Matthew in his old house when we thought he was in Florida.”

  “Nick says Mac is in touch with the police where Gibson lived in Florida. They’re trying to trace any friends or neighbors who might have known why he came back so suddenly.”

  Sarah turned that over in her mind. “We’ve been thinking it had something to do with the letter Aaron wrote to him, but maybe it wasn’t that at all.”

  “With any luck, Mac will hit upon someone who knows all about it. Still, it’s odd, finding Gibson there in a house he’d already sold.”

  “I don’t know,” Sarah said slowly, trying to put herself in Matt Gibson’s mind. “He’d lived there for most of his life. Probably all his memories of his late wife are tied up in that house. He might have wanted to visit it one more time.”

  “Especially if the new owners plan to tear the house down.” Allison took the turn that led into Lititz. “It’s frustrating not to be able to find anything about that company. I spent a lot of time looking last night and didn’t come up with a thing. I’m beginning to think Evergreen Corporation is a figment of somebody’s imagination.”