When Secrets Strike

by Marta Perry

  “Have you reached the auctioneer yet?”

  “No.” Allison gave her a sharp glance, and then seemed to accept her need to switch to a different worry. “I did finally get someone to answer the phone. Apparently he’s off on one of his collecting trips, and the person I spoke with said he might not check in for a couple of days. I stressed that he should call me the minute he got in touch.” She looked frustrated, no doubt wanting to jump into action in tracking down the history of the album quilt.

  “I just hope he’ll be able to tell us where the quilt came from. And when he got it. If it’s fairly recent—”

  “That narrows things down.” Allison finished for her. “Who would have access to Julia’s attic other than Donna and possibly Gus Hill?”

  “I wish I knew. Maybe someone else has a key to the house, like the cleaning woman. Or there might be one hidden outside. We never thought to ask Julia.” Sarah was grasping at straws, and she knew it.

  Allison’s expressive face showed her doubt. “But whoever it was would have to know the quilt and those other things were stored in the attic. And the person who best fits that description is Donna.”

  The sound of something hitting the floor had them both spinning around. Harvey Preston stood at the foot of the stairs, looking shocked. His briefcase lay on the floor, papers spilling out of it.

  “Harvey, let me help you.” Sarah knelt to scoop papers back into the case even as he grasped it up himself.

  “I’ll get it.” He straightened, his face flushed. “Sorry. I wasn’t intentionally listening, but I couldn’t help hearing what you said. Are you saying that Donna Edwards, of all people, has taken something from Julia Everly?”

  Sarah exchanged looks with Allison, feeling her own face redden. They never should have talked about such a thing out here in the hallway, whether they thought they were alone or not.

  “We’re not accusing anyone,” Allison said quickly. “It’s just that a valuable antique quilt of Julia’s has turned up missing, and we’re trying to find out what happened to it for Julia.”

  “There might be some perfectly innocent explanation,” Sarah said. “It could have been mislaid when she moved into the house, or...”

  “I wouldn’t put it past some of those itinerant dealers to steal something,” Harvey declared, seeming to recover his poise. “You’d be surprised if you’d heard the stories I have from some of the elderly people I deal with who are selling up.”

  “Really?” Allison looked interested. Or maybe she was just encouraging Harvey to come up with an alternate theory to satisfy him. “I had no idea that went on.”

  Harvey nodded, his usually cheerful face solemn. “It’s especially a problem with elderly people who live alone. I had one client on an isolated farm who let someone in to evaluate her antiques, or so she thought. A few days later, she discovered that an entire collection of antique silver had disappeared.”

  “That’s terrible.” They’d been walking as they talked, and had nearly reached the shop. With any luck, they’d been able to allay Harvey’s suspicions. “We’ll try and find out if anyone like that has been in Julia’s house. Thank you for the suggestion.”

  “My pleasure. I just hope Julia doesn’t have to deal with the police. I understand she’s not in such good shape, either physically or, well...mentally. It might be time for her to make a move to assisted living.”

  And who had told Harvey that about Julia’s mental state? Donna was the most likely culprit.

  “I don’t think she’s considering calling in the police at this point.” Allison unlocked the shop door and swung it open. “I know we can trust you to keep what we’ve said in confidence, Harvey.”

  “Of course, of course. It just enrages me when I see people taking advantage of the elderly. It’s reprehensible.” He seemed to realize they were waiting to enter the shop until he’d finished. “I’ll say goodbye. I have a prospective client waiting for me. And don’t worry. You can trust me to keep quiet.” Shaking his head, he walked toward the front door.

  “I wish that hadn’t happened.” Sarah switched on the lights. “I should have been more careful.”

  “I’m the one who brought it up,” Allison said. “But I don’t think there’s any harm done. A real estate agent like Harvey can’t afford to give away secrets.”

  Sarah nodded, a little comforted. In any event, there was no point in worrying about something that probably wouldn’t happen. She had enough to consume her with the difficult things that already existed.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  DESPITE THE FAMILY’S fears for his brother, they ought to behave as normally as possible. So Aaron drove his mother, sister and the girls into town to the quilt shop the next day. While they were occupied, maybe he’d find a way to have a private talk with Mac Whiting. Surely Mac knew that Jonah couldn’t be guilty of setting the fires. It had to be that man Fielding who was driving the suspicion.

  Becky was in the backseat of the carriage with his girls, and they were playing some silly game that resulted in lots of giggles. Bless her for distracting the kinder and keeping them happy. His little sister was growing more mature by the day, it seemed. Maybe working at the quilt shop and getting closer to Sarah accounted for it.

  Just thinking about Sarah seemed to create an odd feeling in Aaron’s chest. He had been going along perfectly content, he’d thought, until circumstances had thrown him and Sarah together. And now—well, now he was no longer so sure of himself. At first he’d been able to reason away the sudden feelings he’d experienced—the need to protect her, the longing to touch her, maybe even kiss her...

  He shouldn’t even be thinking about it. Maybe not ever, but certainly not now. Until they were clear of the trouble they were in, he didn’t dare.

  Aaron glanced at his mother. She’d been silent throughout the ride to town, her lips pressed together, her face strained. He reached across to clasp her hand.

  “Don’t worry so. This will all be cleared up soon.”

  “Ja. That’s what I’m praying. But that man from the state police—he seems to have convinced everyone he’s right.”

  “I don’t think so.” Aaron didn’t want to raise her hopes, but maybe it was best to say something about his plans. “I’ll try to talk to Mac while you’re at the shop. He must know that Jonah couldn’t do such a thing. He’s known him since he was a baby, after all.”

  Her face relaxed just a little. “You’re right. We can trust Mac.”

  “That’s so.” Aaron patted her hand.

  If his mother took comfort in the thought, that was the best he could do. But he wondered who held the power in the relationship between Fielding and the local police. If the man from the state was in charge, what would Mac be able to do?

  He turned into the driveway that led back along Blackburn House, and stopped when he reached the hitching rail. Nick, just heading into the cabinetry shop, paused to raise his hand and then vanished inside.

  Aaron reached up to help his mother descend. The girls were already jumping down, eager to hurry into the shop.

  “Are you coming inside?” Mamm asked.

  “Just for a minute or two.” There was really no reason for him to go in. Still, he enjoyed walking into the cozy atmosphere and seeing what Sarah had created with her own hard work.

  When they reached the shop, he noticed a dark green trash bag leaning against the exterior wall. Odd. Sarah wouldn’t put trash out in the hallway. He picked it up and carried it in with him. He’d ask Sarah what she wanted done with it.

  Anna and Lena were already hanging on Sarah, and she laughed as she tried to pay attention to both girls at the same time. Warmth unfolded within him. Sarah’s serene face seemed to become beautiful when the love shone in it so clearly.

  She hugged the kinder against her, saying something to them, an
d his heart stirred. If things had been different, maybe he and Sarah would have married. If he’d been a little older, he’d have known that there was a difference between the infatuation folks called first love and the real thing.

  His imagination provided him with a picture of Sarah, her hair loose on a pillow, looking up at him with that shining expression of love.

  His breath caught. He couldn’t go around thinking that way. It wasn’t right.

  Sarah was coming toward him, and he tried to compose his expression. “What do you have in the trash bag?” she asked.

  “It’s not mine. It’s yours.” He was surprised he sounded so normal. “I found it propped against the outside wall. Didn’t you put it there?”

  “No.” She reached for the bag. “What could it be?” She opened the top, letting out the dank scent of must.

  “Ugh,” he said. “Whatever it is, it doesn’t smell very good.”

  Sarah held her nose while she peered into the bag. “Ugh is right. It looks like quilts, but they smell as if they’ve been stored in a damp basement. Who would drop off a bag of old quilts like that?”

  Allison swung around at the words. “Is that what it is? It must be that woman who called. She said she had some antique quilts she wanted to put on display and would bring them in. A Mrs. Burkholder, she said.”

  The other adults in the room grinned, making Allison look from one to the other. “Okay, what’s going on? I can see the joke’s on me. Who’s Mrs. Burkholder?”

  “Oh, dear.” Sarah shook her head, smiling. “She lives out on Foster Road in that big old ramshackle house. I’m afraid she’s a little...eccentric.”

  “Odd,” Aaron said. “She has a houseful of old junk she insists is a collection of valuable antiques. She once sold a pitcher and bowl to a dealer for fifty dollars, and that made her determined to find a hidden treasure in all the stuff she’s collected, much of it from the landfill.”

  “So you’re telling me she brought us a bunch of smelly old rags?” Allison advanced on the bag, as if to seize it and trundle it into the trash.

  “No, no, they’re actually quilts,” Sarah said, closing the bag and tying the top. “We’ll have to look through them and see if there’s anything worth showing. But not until they’re aired out.”

  “Take them home and hang them on the clothesline for a few hours,” Aaron’s mother suggested. “That should get the worst of it out so you can look at the quilts.”

  Sarah nodded. “That’ll be best. I’ll take them home with me.”

  “In the meantime, you’ll have to get them out of the shop.” Allison sniffed. “I can still smell them.”

  Aaron took the offending bag. “Shall I put it out back?”

  Sarah chuckled. “Then it’ll get picked up for garbage, and we’ll never hear the end of it from Mrs. Burkholder. She’d probably sue us for some astronomical figure. I’ll put it in the storeroom until I go home.”

  She reached for the bag, but Aaron shook his head. “I’ll carry it. Show me where it goes.”

  “Denke, Aaron.” Sarah led the way out of the shop, stopping to pick up a ring of keys from behind the counter. “I think Allison is just imagining she can smell it with the top tied, but it’ll keep in the storeroom. This way.”

  She led him to the storeroom at the rear, stopping to unlock the door and switch on lights. “Let’s put it back here on the floor. That way it won’t be touching anything else, just in case.”

  They went past sets of metal shelves loaded with boxes and plastic bins, many of which seemed to hold books. Clearly Emily, from the bookshop, liked to accumulate even more than she could sell. Or maybe they were still left from the former owner, who’d never been able to get rid of anything.

  Aaron stopped where Sarah did, at the back wall, setting the bag where she indicated.

  “I’m glad we had a chance to be alone.” Sarah looked up at him, her blue eyes darkened and serious. “I wanted to ask how Jonah is doing.”

  Aaron’s throat tightened. “All this suspicion is hard for him. He imagines everyone is talking about him. And he’s at such a rebellious age, wanting to be independent but needing reassurance.”

  “I’m so sorry for all of this. I know he’s not as grown-up as he thinks he is. He’s fortunate to have you to rely on.”

  Aaron clenched his fists. “I should have made more effort to get close to him. He’s my little brother, and I should be looking out for him.”

  “Aaron, you’re doing your best, I know you are. You can’t blame yourself.”

  “I know he wouldn’t do anything like this. Maybe some vandalism, if he got caught up in it when he’d been drinking. But he’d never put animals at risk.” Aaron knew it, but felt helpless to convince anyone.

  “I know.” She touched his hand lightly. “I’m sure of that. The truth will come out. It has to.”

  Sarah cared so much. Her caring seemed to flow out from her in warm, healing waves, comforting him, easing the burden he carried.

  “Sarah.” He said her name softly. He seemed to be drowning in the deep blue of her eyes, sinking into the comfort of her caring.

  Before he could think what he was doing, he lowered his head and captured her lips with his. For an instant she was still with surprise, and then she seemed to lean into him, her mouth softening under his, her hands grasping his arms.

  He couldn’t think. He could only feel. He’d been starved of a woman’s love for so long, and Sarah... The feelings that had been growing inside him suddenly seemed to burst into bloom.

  Sarah, his friend. Sarah, innocent Sarah, who trusted him. What was he doing? He’d just told himself he couldn’t possibly do anything about Sarah while they were under such a cloud.

  But it felt so good. They felt as if they belonged together.

  The rattle of the door warned him, and they sprang apart. Sarah averted her face, her breath coming quickly. He had to say something to reassure her, but there was no time.

  Allison erupted into the storeroom, waving a sheet of paper. “Sarah, I’ve found it!”

  “Found what?” He didn’t care, but he could at least give Sarah another moment to recover.

  “The auctioneer got my message. He called.” She hurried toward them. “What are we doing in this dark storeroom? Come on, there are things to be done.”

  “You’re always in such a rush.” Sarah turned to her, actually looking like her usual self.

  How could she do that, when he must surely look as if he’d been hit with an ax?

  “You don’t understand.” Allison waved the paper again. “He actually has records of the acquisition of Julia’s quilt. He faxed it to me. He bought it five months ago from a woman who claimed to represent the owner, an elderly woman who was, she said, disposing of some of her household goods.”

  Aaron was struggling to follow the conversation. He’d known they were trying to track down a quilt that had belonged, or did belong, to Julia Everly. It sounded as if they’d found the answer.

  “Does he have the name?” Excitement filled Sarah’s voice, as if she’d forgotten their kiss as soon as it was over. “Who was it?”

  Allison handed her the paper. “Just who we thought. Donna Edwards.”

  “Is the man sure?” Aaron didn’t want to see Sarah getting involved in something that sounded like trouble with the Englisch law.

  “He copies the driver’s license for identification when he buys an item. It’s Donna, all right.” Allison looked at Sarah, her exuberance fading. “We’re going to have to tell Julia what we know.”

  “I suppose so.” Sarah’s clear blue eyes clouded. “She’s going to be upset. Angry, maybe, but mostly upset. After all, Donna is her own kin.”

  “And she’s stealing from her.” Allison shook her head at her friend’s expression. “There’s no use
soft-pedaling it, Sarah. What other explanation could there be? We can’t let the woman get away with stealing from her.”

  “I suppose not.” Sarah sounded apprehensive.

  Aaron thought he knew why. Warmhearted Sarah had set out to help someone she thought needed her, as she always did. Now she was faced with becoming enmeshed in what might be an ugly scene.

  “You don’t have to be involved.” He touched her arm, as if to draw her back to him. “It’s not your concern. I mean, you don’t have to be the one to interfere. Julia might not thank you for it.”

  Sarah stepped out of reach of his hand. “It is my concern. Julia Everly might be Englisch, but she’s also my friend. She asked for my help, and I won’t let her down.”

  “You’d best talk it over with your daad first.” Aaron knew as soon as he said it that Sarah would resent the words. All the sympathy was gone from her face now when she looked at him.

  “It is a matter for my conscience, not my father’s.” She spoke with a firmness he hadn’t known she possessed. “Excuse me.” She spun and walked out of the storeroom.

  * * *

  SARAH SAT DOWN opposite Julia in her cozy living room, trying to decide how to lead up to the information they’d found. She and Allison had decided that only one of them should come on such delicate family business, and since she’d known Julia for years, it made sense that Sarah did it.

  She’d felt awkward just walking in, but when she’d called to say she was coming, Julia had insisted upon it, saying she didn’t want Donna butting in on their conversation. She’d obviously guessed that this was no ordinary visit.

  But Sarah was only too relieved to get away from the shop and try to concentrate on something other than that kiss she’d shared with Aaron. She was glad Allison had interrupted them, even glad Aaron had so immediately made her annoyed. She had to focus on Julia’s troubles right now, not her own.

  “Well?” Julia thumped the arm of the chair with her fist. “You know something, don’t you? Out with it. And tell me quickly. The physical therapist is due in a few minutes.”