by Nancy Mehl
Sam led me to the back of the house and opened a door into a screened-in porch. It reminded me a lot of Emily’s. He laughed at the expression on my face.
“Look familiar? This is where Emily got the idea for her porch. She fell in love with this one and told Abel. He came out and looked at it and built a similar one for her.”
“Does Emily spend a lot of time here?” I couldn’t see Emily and Sweetie as close friends.
“Oh, she probably drops by a couple times a month at least.” Sam checked a large potted plant near the corner windows. Then he picked up a nearby watering can and added some moisture to the huge green fern. I almost laughed. I had a fern in my apartment that looked like some kind of sickly cousin to this one. And I’d thought mine was pretty healthy. Obviously I’d been deluded. “Sweetie and I hire some of the teenagers from the church to help during harvest—and for a few other chores around here. Abel and Emily drop by to make sure they’re working hard.” He flashed me a big grin. “Sweetie and Emily actually like each other very much. Emily loves this house, and Sweetie loves to show it off. I guess when people find something they have in common, anyone can forge a friendship.”
“I guess so.” Spending time in Harmony had begun to change the way I looked at people. I was beginning to see that I didn’t have everything and everyone all figured out after all. I watched Sam examine some of the other plants and couldn’t help but once again compare him to the men I knew in Wichita. Sam was intelligent, compassionate, courteous—and he really listened when I talked. My last date had spent the entire evening talking about himself. The only chance I’d had to speak came when he occasionally took a breath, and even then I’d felt he was just waiting for me to finish so he could launch into another boring story about his supposed success as a copywriter at another advertising agency in town.
“You’d better call your dad,” Sam said after inspecting several of the pots scattered around the room.
I nodded. “My dad and your aunt in one day. It’s a lot to face.”
“Well, at least it should be interesting,” he said as he opened the door into the main house.
I walked past, brushing against him as I stepped up into the kitchen. He smelled of aftershave and the outdoors. My mind went back to our kiss in the truck, and I felt my cheeks grow hot. I hurried ahead of him so he wouldn’t see how much he affected me.
“Why don’t you use the phone in the study?” he said. “It’s down the hall and to your left.”
Without turning around or acknowledging him, I followed his instructions. The first door on the left opened into a beautiful room lined with tall oak bookshelves. Against the back wall, long windows looked out on the orchards. Two leather, high-backed chairs sat near a wood-burning fireplace in the corner of the room. An intricately carved wood mantel above the fireplace held several framed pictures. I moved closer so I could see them. In the first, a young boy held the hand of a handsome woman who smiled at the camera. I realized with a start that the boy was Sam and the woman was Sweetie. Sam’s long blond hair almost covered one eye. Although he smiled for the camera, his eyes held a deep sadness. The picture must have been taken not long after he came to live with his aunt. I stared at Sweetie’s picture. I guessed her to be in her late thirties. Curly amber-colored hair cascaded down to her shoulders. Her large dark eyes held the guarded look I’d come to know. The next picture was a head shot of an achingly beautiful woman with sandy hair and bright blue eyes. Sam’s features were unmistakable. His mother. I stared at her for several seconds. A quick look through several of the other framed photographs showed no shots of her with a man. Where was Sam’s father?
The rest of the pictures were of people I didn’t recognize, although I suspected that a portrait of an elderly couple was of Sam’s grandparents. The very last picture caught my attention. A young woman with blond hair piled up on her head smiled at the camera. Although I almost couldn’t believe it, I realized it was an earlier photo of Sweetie. She had to have been in her late teens or early twenties. She was breathtaking. In her large, luminous eyes I detected no hint of the hardness that would change her. I saw only happiness. This picture must have been taken before her father’s accident. Had that loss changed her into the gruff, suspicious woman she had become? Or could it have been something else? Had Jacob Glick’s touch of evil driven the hope from her life?
I found the phone on top of a large mahogany desk. I slid into the leather chair behind the desk and dialed my dad’s number. He answered on the first ring.
“I’m sorry I had to hang up so fast, Dad,” I said quickly. “We were having lunch at the pastor’s house and...”
“Why in the world did you ask me about Jacob Glick? Where did you hear that name?”
My dad’s sharp tone startled me. I thought back quickly to my conversation with Sam. I needed to sound nonchalant without actually lying to my father. “I’ve been hearing lots of names, Dad. His was just one of them. It seems he wasn’t a very nice man.”
I waited quietly for my father to respond but was greeted with total silence. “Dad?” I said finally. “Are you there?”
“Is that man back in Harmony? Has he approached you, Grace Marie?”
My dad had called me by both my given names—a sign that at that moment he was as serious as he could possibly get. And he’d asked if Glick had come back to Harmony. He had no idea the man was dead. My knees felt weak. If I hadn’t already been sitting down, I think I would have collapsed. I trusted my father, but a little corner of my brain had held on to a small pocket of fear—fear that my father had been someone else once. Someone I didn’t know. I knew now, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he was completely innocent of Glick’s death.
“N–no, Dad. He’s not here. I guess he left not long after you did.”
“Well, thank God for that. He was a terrible man. He’s the only person I ever hit, Gracie. I’m not proud of it. I don’t believe in violence. Never have. But that man...”
“What did he do?”
“It doesn’t matter. I don’t want to talk about it.”
“I’m twenty-three years old, you know. Not a baby.”
“I know that.”
My dad’s stern voice didn’t welcome any further challenge. But with what was at stake, I took a chance and pressed on. “Someone told me he was a little too friendly with the girls in Harmony. For you to hit him, he must have made a move on Mom.”
My dad’s exasperated sigh echoed loudly through the receiver. “Why in the world is this important to you? If Jacob is gone, who cares what he did or didn’t do?”
If I could tell my father what Glick had done to Emily Mueller, he’d probably tell me whatever I wanted to know. But I couldn’t do that. “Look, I’m just interested, that’s all. Sam’s been showing me around town, and I’m learning all kinds of things about Harmony—past and present. Jacob Glick is just one of the people whose name came up. Why are you so defensive?”
He sighed again. “I don’t know. Jacob is a part of the past I’d like to forget. I suppose if it’s important to you, I can try to remember whatever I can. I haven’t thought about the man in over thirty years.”
“Well, it’s not important really. I’m just curious.”
“Okay, okay. He was the maintenance man for our church, but he spent most of his time skulking around town, following young girls, and being a general nuisance. He bothered your mother on more than one occasion, even though he knew we were seeing each other.” He paused for a moment as if gathering his thoughts. “There were rumors that he’d been extremely inappropriate. You know, actually grabbing some of the ladies in town. I have no idea if that’s true. My parents didn’t discuss unpleasant things in front of my brother and me, so what I know is only through rumors.”
“But why did you get in a fight with him?”
“The night before your mother and I left Harmony, we were supposed to meet in a small clearing in the trees behind my house. Even though our parents and a few other people
knew we were going away to get married, we didn’t want too many people involved. If Bishop Angstadt found out, he would have exerted great pressure on our families to stop us. When I arrived at the spot where I was to meet your mother, I found Jacob hiding behind a tree, watching her. He’d been bothering her for months. She’d had to rebuff him more than once. I’d warned him to stay away from her. When I confronted him, he told us he knew what we were planning and he intended to tell Angstadt. I guess everything just boiled up inside me. I hauled off and slugged him so hard I bruised my knuckles.”
“Your—your knuckles? You hit him with your fist?”
He snorted. “Of course I did. What did you think I’d hit him with?”
“Not a rock,” I mumbled to myself, not realizing my father could hear me. He hadn’t hit him with a rock at all. That meant...
“A rock?” Dad said. “Of course not. I only wanted to stop him from bothering Beverly. I wasn’t trying to kill him, Gracie. Goodness gracious. You sure get some funny ideas. Must be all that television...”
“Okay, Dad. I get it.” I didn’t have time for another lecture on the evils of television. Boy, he and Abel were like twins when it came to that subject.
“All right,” he said. “I told you about Jacob Glick. Now, who’s Sam?”
I launched into a narrative about Sam and Sweetie, leaving out that I was staying with them.
“You say this Sweetie person has been in Harmony for a while?” He sounded puzzled. “I don’t remember anyone with that name. It’s certainly not a name I’d likely forget.”
“Her real name is Myrtle, Dad. Myrtle Goodrich.”
“Oh my goodness gracious. Myrtle Goodrich. Wow. She’s still there? I figured she’d left after her father passed away.”
I told him about the farm and the house she’d renovated. I also explained that she’d taken Sam in when he was a boy.
“Well, that’s very interesting,” he said softly. “I always felt so sorry for Myrtle. I didn’t really know her very well, but the whole town was aware of her plight. I’m really happy to hear she’s made something of herself and overcome her past.” I heard him move the phone away from his mouth and say something I couldn’t make out. Then he laughed into the receiver. “Honey, your mother is pestering me to give her the phone. I’m going to hand you over. You call us back again in a couple of days, okay?”
“Okay, Dad. I love you.”
“I love you, too, Snicklefritz.”
I talked to my mom for another ten minutes before we finally hung up. I put the receiver down and stared at the phone for quite some time, trying to turn over the information I’d gotten from my dad. He’d hit Glick with his fist. My father hadn’t killed Glick at all—on purpose or accidentally. I felt as if a major weight had been lifted off me. I started to get up to find Sam, when the door to the study swung open and he came inside.
“Are you finished?” he asked.
I nodded and motioned to him to close the door. He latched it and came over, sitting down in a chair near the desk. I told him everything I’d learned from my father.
“So you see,” I said when I’d finished, “my father not only doesn’t know Glick is dead, but he couldn’t possibly have killed him. Dad didn’t hit him with a rock, Sam. Someone else did that. Someone else killed Jacob Glick.”
Sam studied me for a moment. “And you believe your father told you the truth?”
I nodded. “I know him better than I know myself. I’m convinced of it.”
He shrugged. “That’s good enough for me.” He sat forward in the chair and put his head in his hands. “Glick never made it from the spot where your father hit him. So if we can figure out who met Glick in the clearing after your father and mother left and before Ben found him, we’ve got our murderer.” He straightened up and frowned at me, his face creased with concern. “Since we know your father didn’t accidentally kill Glick, I think the person who hit him with that rock probably intended to kill him, Grace. They probably saw your dad hit him—and then when your parents left, they picked up a rock and finished him off. I suspect Glick was a little woozy after being punched in the face. Most likely, that made it much easier to approach him.”
“That makes sense,” I said, thinking it over. “The problem is that no one we’ve talked to actually saw who hit him. I’m beginning to think our only chance at finding the truth is to discover the identity of the person who took my letter and planted Ruth’s vase at Benjamin’s. That person must be the real killer.”
Without warning, a side door to the library opened and Sweetie stepped in, holding something in her hand. “I can’t help you with Ruth’s vase, and I can’t help you figger out who killed that stinkin’ varmit Jacob Glick. But I can tell you exactly who stole your letter.” She walked over and slammed the papers she held in her hand onto the desktop right in front of me. “It was me. I took your blasted letter.”
Chapter Fourteen
“I had no intention of ever talkin’ ’bout this. I’d hoped it was dead and buried ... just like that miserable old letch Jacob Glick.”
Sam and I sat quietly at the kitchen table. Sweetie had refused to explain her surprising admission until she was ready. She’d ordered us into the kitchen where we sat waiting while she scooped out three bowls of fruit salad and shoved them in front of us. The salad looked and smelled delicious, but my appetite had vanished. From the somber expression on Sam’s face, it was evident he felt the same way.
After her comment, Sweetie stared at me as if I might want to respond, but for the life of me, I couldn’t think of a single thing to say. Her shocking revelation seemed to have affected my ability to voice anything coherent, so I simply nodded. She took it as a sign to continue.
“I barely knew Jacob. I only seen him when I went to town. Didn’t go to that church where he worked or nothin’, so there weren’t much call for me to run into him.” She sighed and shook her head. “Whenever I did cross his path, that man always gave me the willies. He had a look in his eyes that was ... well, lustful is the best word I can come up with. I tried to keep my distance from him. My daddy told me not to ever give him a reason to approach me.” Her features softened, and for just a moment I saw a quick flash of the young woman I’d seen in the pictures on the mantel. But instantly her expression hardened, and Sweetie was back.
“But ... but what does this have to do with why you took Grace’s letter?” Sam’s harsh tone caused his aunt to glower at him.
“I’ll get to that, boy. You need to hush up and let me tell the story my way. It’s the only way you’re gonna get it. You understand?”
“Whatever.” Sam shrugged, then jabbed a forkful of salad and shoved it into his mouth.
“Anyways,” she continued, “I kept to my daddy’s advice, but every time I seen Jacob in town, he’d watch me with those sharp, beady eyes of his. After a while I got kinda used to it. And then my daddy had his accident. I didn’t make it to town much ’cause I was takin’ care of him after he came back home.” She stared at the tablecloth as if she could see the past woven into its design. “Several of the nearby farmers helped me, tryin’ to take care of our fields. Some folks from town came with food and medical supplies.” Her voice caught. “Your grandma and grandpa were there for me almost every day, Gracie. Along with Levi and the Turnbauers. Good people. But then that Angstadt fellow started comin’ around. Not too often, but even a little of that man was too much for me. I always felt like he was checkin’ me out, you know? Pretending he wanted to help—but like he had another motive hidin’ behind his fake smile.”
She paused for a moment before she rose from her chair and grabbed the iced-tea pitcher from the counter. She refilled her glass and Sam’s. I hadn’t even touched mine. When she finished, she sat back down with a grunt.
“Well, Daddy just got worse and worse. The doc from Council Grove came out to check on him. He’s the one who told me Daddy’s bones hadn’t set quite right. Unless he had an operation to fix them proper, he coul
d die. Had to do with the way the blood flowed through his body. I didn’t have no money, and I couldn’t figger out a way to get it quick enough. I thought about sellin’ the farm, but that would take time—time Daddy didn’t have.”
“We know about the deal Angstadt offered you,” I said gently. “He’d give you the money for the operation if you’d marry Jacob Glick.”
Sweetie’s eyes grew wide. “Now how in tarnation did you hear about that?”
I started at the beginning, from reading the letter, to deciding to tell Sam the truth. I finished with the conversation Emily had overheard between Glick and Angstadt when she was young. The only thing I left out was Glick’s awful attack on Emily.
“My, my. You two have been busy little beavers, ain’t ya?” The touch of amusement in her tone seemed in stark contrast to the seriousness of the situation. She leaned back in her chair, folded her arms, and stared at us. “So you want to prove that Daniel Temple didn’t kill Jacob.” She snorted. “Shoot, I coulda told you that. Daniel was one of the nicest boys I ever met. He wouldn’t harm a hair on no one’s head. Not even that low-life Jacob’s.” She shook her head slowly. “No, Daniel didn’t kill Jacob.”
