Simple Secrets (The Harmony Series 1)

by Nancy Mehl

  “Do you know who did?” Sam asked solemnly.

  To our amazement, Sweetie laughed. “Now boy, set your mind to rest. I didn’t kill Jacob. If ’n I had, wouldn’t nobody ever find his body, and all this trouble wouldn’t be happenin’ now.” She reached over and touched Sam’s hand. “No, I didn’t kill that varmint, boy, and I don’t know who did. Wish I’d seen it though. I’d like to help Daniel out. That boy was always nice to me. Always respectful. After Daddy got sick, he’d come with his parents and work on my farm until he was about ready to drop. Never asked for nothin’. Willin’ to do anything he could to help. Him and his brother, Benny. They was both special.”

  I was beginning to get exasperated. Sweetie was taking her own sweet time and still hadn’t explained why she took my letter. I tried to think of a way to hurry her along.

  “Guess I better get to what happened that night and why I snuck in and took that letter,” she said as if she’d recognized my growing frustration.

  I settled back in my chair and waited. Hopefully, we were rounding third base and heading toward home. My stomach growled lightly, and I picked up my fork. The first taste of Sweetie’s fresh fruit salad convinced me I could actually eat and listen at the same time.

  “Angstadt came to our house two nights after the doctor told me Daddy needed that operation. He told me he would pay for it if I’d marry that snake in the grass Jacob. I was appalled and told him to get outta my house. I didn’t tell Daddy nothin’ about it. But in the next few days he started gettin’ worse and worse.” She sat forward in her chair and clasped her rough, work-worn hands together as if she were getting ready to pray. Her knuckles turned white, and the end of her fingers grew red with exertion. She stared at them instead of us. “I—I know what I’m about to say sounds awful, but I just couldn’t let my daddy suffer that way. I decided to take Angstadt up on his offer.” She looked up at us, her face a mask of pain. “There wasn’t nothin’ else I could think of to do. The idea of lettin’ that man ... well, let’s just say that I loved my daddy more than I loved my own life. It’s as simple as that. If either one of you ever loves someone that much, maybe you’ll understand.” Her expression hardened, and she set her jaw. “After Jacob died and then my daddy passed away, all I wanted was for the whole situation to fade away. I tried to put it out of my mind.” She looked at Sam, and the tightness in her face softened. “Then Sam came into my life. I vowed he would never find out that I’d almost sold myself to someone like Jacob Glick. I woulda done anything to keep my decision secret.” She sighed. “I didn’t want Sam to be ashamed of me.”

  “So that’s why you took my letter?” I asked. “Because uncovering Glick’s death would bring all of this to light?”

  “That’s a big part of it, Gracie girl. But there’s more.”

  Again, I nodded at her to continue. Sam stared at his aunt as if he didn’t know her. I understood his shock at finding out Sweetie had kept secrets from him and had my letter all this time, but I was pretty sure some assurance from him would mean a lot to her right now. Her eyes kept flicking toward him, but the look on his face offered little encouragement.

  “You see, after I told Angstadt I’d accept his offer, he arranged a meetin’ between Jacob and me. We was to get together by the lake. When I came up to the spot where he was supposed to be, I seen he weren’t alone.” She looked at me. “Daniel and your mama was there, and your daddy was yellin’ at Jacob. Seems I wasn’t the only girl he had his eye on.” She stared at her hands again. “I was standin’ behind the trees watchin’ when Daniel hauled off and hit Jacob. That nasty man fell down on the ground, but he sure weren’t dead. And your daddy didn’t hit him with no rock the way the letter says. I couldn’t believe it when I read that. What in the blue blazes was Benny thinkin’?”

  “What did my father do after he hit Glick?” I asked.

  “He and Beverly left. Jacob got up on his feet and stood there cussin’ up a blue streak.” Sweetie pointed her fork at me. “He was fine, Gracie. Your daddy left him alive. Believe me.”

  “What did you do then?” Sam asked.

  Sweetie ran a hand over her face. “I ran. I chickened out. I hated Jacob, and for some reason, seein’ Daniel stand up to him made me want to do it, too.” She blew out a long breath between clenched teeth. “But when I got home and was faced with Daddy’s pain, I went back, hopin’ Jacob was still there.”

  “And was he?” I asked.

  “Oh, he was there all right. Deader than a doornail, his head all busted in.” She rubbed her palms together. “All I could do was look at him and think about the money for Daddy’s operation. I wasn’t sad Jacob was dead. I was just feared my daddy’s chances were all gone.”

  “So you really don’t know who killed him,” I said with a sigh.

  “Nope. But as I told you, it sure weren’t Daniel Temple. And I know one other person who didn’t do it.”

  “And who’s that?” Sam asked. Thankfully, the tension in his face had eased somewhat. At first I’d thought he was angry with his aunt, but I realized now that he’d just been worried. Afraid she’d killed Glick. Afraid he’d lose the only parent figure he had left.

  “Benny Temple. You see, I watched him find Jacob’s body. And I watched him bury him. I figgered it was because he thought Daniel had killed him. Weren’t no other reason for him to be hidin’ Jacob’s body.”

  My mouth dropped open. “You knew Benjamin buried Glick and never said anything?”

  “You got that right, missy,” she retorted. “I was glad that piece of human scum was dead and gone. And I was determined to keep Benny’s secret.”

  “That’s why you took my letter? To protect my uncle?”

  She nodded slowly. “That was part of it, surely. But that’s not the only reason. You see, I thought Benny saw me that night. After he started buryin’ Jacob, I tried to get outta there, but I stepped on a big dry twig, and it cracked real loud. I ran away as fast as I could, tryin’ to stay amid the trees so Benny wouldn’t see me, but I could hear someone followin’ behind me most of the way. It musta been him. And I could swear he looked at me kinda funny after that night. I was feared he thought I killed that nasty old man instead of his brother. I was worried he’d tell folks I did it.”

  “You never asked him about it?” Sam said incredulously. “In all these years?”

  “Nope. Never did. And Benny never brought it up neither. It were our secret. Anyway, until she came to town.” Sweetie crooked her thumb my way.

  “But how did you know about the letter?” I asked.

  “Because Benny said somethin’ about it. Toward the end, he’d sleep a lot. I’d come up to check on him and find him thrashin’ around on the couch, mumblin’ stuff. One day I found him havin’ one of them nightmares. When I tried to wake him up, he grabbed my arm with all the strength he had left and started shoutin’ your name, Gracie. He kept yellin’, ‘The truth’s in the letter! The truth’s in the letter!’” Sweetie’s eyes locked on me, her face puckered in a fierce scowl. “I was sure he was talkin’ about Jacob. I couldn’t let him bring all that back. I didn’t know if he named me as Jacob’s killer. Or maybe your daddy. I had no idea what kinda ‘truth’ was in that letter.” She sighed. “Too many lives could be ruined by diggin’ up things that are better left dead. I respected your uncle, but in this case, I thought he was all wrong.”

  “But don’t you realize that this letter could clear my father?”

  Sweetie leaned back in her chair. “You ain’t thought this out, Gracie girl. That letter says your daddy did kill Jacob. Even if he didn’t mean to.”

  “You could testify,” Sam said. “You can clear Mr. Temple.”

  Sweetie looked at him as if he’d lost his mind. “And how am I supposed to do that? I can’t come forward now, thirty years later, and tell someone I kept quiet about it all this time. Ain’t no one gonna believe me. Especially since I probably have more motive than anyone else for killin’ him.” She shook her head. “Nope. Tha
t won’t work. I won’t do it.”

  “Then what do we do now? What do we do with the letter?” I could hear the hint of hysteria in my voice, but I was tired and confused. It seemed now that the letter actually made things more complicated. Benjamin had been wrong all these years. He’d assumed his brother was guilty of murder—even if it was accidental. But now we knew that my dad wasn’t guilty of anything maybe giving Glick a well-deserved punch in the face. And the only person who could back that up wasn’t willing to do so.

  “I wish I’d found that letter before you did and destroyed it,” Sweetie said harshly. “It’s nothin’ but trouble. It should disappear just like Jacob. If it goes away, our problems go away. We can get back to normal.”

  “Aren’t you forgetting the body buried on Grace’s property?” Sam asked.

  Sweetie shook her head vigorously. “I got a solution to that problem, too. I buy your land, Gracie. I been wantin’ to expand anyway. Nobody will think nothin’ about it. Jacob stays right where he belongs, and we all go on with our lives.”

  For just a moment, I saw a ray of hope, but it quickly became clear that Sweetie’s plan was flawed. “But Jacob Glick was murdered by someone,” I said. “We can’t just ignore that.”

  “Anyone living in Harmony coulda bashed in that old coot’s head,” she said with contempt. “You can’t investigate the whole town in a few days, girlie. Besides, maybe the person who killed him already moved away—or died themselves. You could be wastin’ your time.”

  I wrapped a strand of hair around my finger while I thought about Sweetie’s theory. “But what about Ruth’s vase? Someone took it and planted it in Benjamin’s house. Why would anyone do that unless they were afraid I was getting too close to the truth?”

  “Was probably Mary,” Sweetie said triumphantly. “I heard tell she hates your guts. She did it so you’d get upset and leave town.”

  “No,” Sam said. “It wasn’t Mary. I already thought of that. I asked Hector where she was Saturday. She never left the café.”

  I frowned at him. “You didn’t tell me you’d checked up on Mary’s whereabouts.”

  He shrugged. “I just wanted to be sure it wasn’t her. I didn’t say anything since I was pretty sure she wasn’t involved. No point stirring up any more bad feelings between the two of you.”

  Sweetie’s jubilation over her hypothesis had taken a swift nosedive. She scrunched up her face while she considered this revelation. Finally, she clapped her hands together. “Maybe Ruth took it herself. She and Mary are tighter than two thieves. They probably planned it.”

  “I don’t believe that,” I said. “I haven’t known Ruth long, but she seems like an honest woman who would never accuse an innocent person of a crime.”

  Sweetie started to make a snide comment, but Sam jumped in before she got it out. “You’re absolutely right, Grace. She wouldn’t.” He flashed his aunt a warning look, and she shut her mouth.

  I leaned forward and caught Sweetie’s attention. “Even if we really believed no one would ever find Glick, we know he was murdered. And it’s not right.”

  “Even though we might never find out who killed him?” Sam asked.

  “Yes. I realize he was a bad person, but he was also someone’s son. Maybe someone’s brother.” I directed my next comment to Sweetie. “Maybe someone’s nephew. How can we just leave him in the ground?”

  “I understand what you’re sayin’,” Sweetie said, raising her eyebrows, “but if you can’t figger out who knocked him off, this thing could blow up in your face and hurt a lotta people. I say you two do your investigatin’, but if you don’t find nothin’, I buy the land and we leave well enough alone.”

  “I don’t know. You might be right,” I said.

  “You sound hesitant,” Sam said. “Is that really what you want to do?”

  I exhaled slowly. “I don’t know. It’s confusing. I don’t want to cause my family trouble, but if we just walk away, it’s like Glick will haunt us the rest of our lives. He’ll never be put to rest.”

  Sweetie’s rough laughter told me she didn’t understand. But Sam’s worried expression mirrored my own. He knew I was right. I was beginning to understand how my uncle felt. Sometimes, doing the right thing is more complicated than it should be.

  Sweetie stood up. “Well, since we’re bein’ all honest and everything, I have somethin’ you should see.”

  Sam and I followed her out of the kitchen toward the study. I had my uncle’s letter clasped tightly in my hand, and I had no intention of losing it again. Sweetie swung the study door open and motioned us inside. Then she crossed over to a painting on the far wall. Probably another one of Hannah’s. She grabbed the left side of the picture and pulled. To my amazement, it swung out, revealing the door to a safe in the wall.

  “I had no idea this was here,” Sam said to his aunt. “Why didn’t you tell me?” He sounded slightly offended.

  “I don’t gotta tell you everything, boy.” She reached over and patted him on the shoulder. “Wasn’t ’cause I don’t trust you. Just felt it was better if you didn’t know nothin’ about it.” She quickly turned the dial. I could hear the tumblers fall into place. “I found this after I moved in. Don’t know who first put it here, but Amil Angstadt was usin’ it—that’s for sure. It’s also for certain his flock knew nothin’ about it.” She swung the heavy door open to reveal a deep interior full of papers and a large metal box. She pulled the box out and carried it over to the desk. Sam and I shot each other questioning looks and trailed behind her. Sweetie was turning out to be full of surprises.

  “So what is it?” Sam asked.

  “When Angstadt came to see me, he asked me how much my daddy’s operation was gonna cost. I told him it was five thousand dollars. He offered me ten thousand. It was enough for the operation and to get our fields in shape. I figgered I could save the farm and get Daddy healthy again so when he was ready, he could take up where he left off.”

  “Ten thousand dollars was a lot of money back then,” I said. “Where in the world would Angstadt get that much?”

  Sweetie’s eyes were burning coals of hate. “I don’t know, but I’m certain he coulda helped my daddy without askin’ me to sell myself to Jacob Glick.” The timbre of her voice rose. “He was supposed to be a Christian man—no matter what group he belonged to. And he let my daddy die. When Jacob disappeared, he refused to help me. Said he was no longer bound to the bargain ’cause Jacob wasn’t in the picture. Yet he had all of this.” She flung the top of the box open to reveal stacks and stacks of bills.

  “You—you said you found this here?”

  She nodded. “After I bought the house, I found the safe. I was gonna crack it open but realized the number was written on the back of an old tapestry that hung here. Evil thing it were. Hell and all its demons torturin’ souls. Just like somethin’ Angstadt would have. I threw it out and put up an old print that belonged to my daddy until Sam brought home one of Hannah’s paintings while I was workin’ on this room.”

  Sam ran his hands over the money. “How much is in here?”

  “A little over twenty thousand dollars.” Her expression grew tight. “And I ain’t never spent one stinkin’ dollar of it. I kept it here all these years just ’cause I could. I hope that rotten scoundrel knows I got his money.” Her voice trembled with emotion.

  “Sweetie,” I said softly, “he probably doesn’t know. And even if he did, I don’t think it matters to him anymore.”

  “Well, it matters to me. It matters a great deal to me.” Tears coursed down her face. “That so-and-so minister watched my daddy waste away when he coulda saved him. After Angstadt dropped dead, I sold daddy’s farm and bought this house just to spite him.” She looked around the room. “’Course once I realized it weren’t the house’s fault, I started to love it here. I fixed it up my way. Ain’t no part of that man here no more.” She gazed down at the box. “’Cept his cursed money. The thing he loved most in the world.”

  Sam an
d I just looked at each other. Sweetie had imprisoned herself with hate for a man who’d died years ago. A wave of compassion swept through me. Sweetie’s gruff exterior housed a broken soul.

  “Why don’t you put it back now, Sweetie?” Sam said gently. “We’ll talk about it later.”

  She slammed the lid shut and picked up the box. “I’ll put it back, but there ain’t no reason to talk about nothin’. I ain’t gonna spend it. And I ain’t gonna never get rid of it. It will sit in that safe until it rots away. Just like that no-good preacher.” She pointed at the letter still in my hand. “You might as well put that letter in the safe, too. No one can get to it there. I ain’t gonna bother with it anymore. You have my promise.”

  I wordlessly handed her the letter, which she carried along with the box to the open safe door. Once they were safely ensconced inside, she shut the door and twirled the knob. Then she swung the painting back against the wall.