Found

by Shelley Shepard Gray

  She knew she should tell him about Jacob’s phone call. She knew she should stay home and be there for her parents. But though her sense of duty was strong, her need to think of her own sanity remained just as important.

  Keeping her voice light, she said, “Frannie has invited several women over for the evening. It’s a chance for us all to talk about her courtship with Luke. It’s a ‘girl thing,’ Daed.”

  He frowned. “But Frannie is courting a man who is not of our faith. I hardly think you should be celebrating that.”

  Out of all the things they had going on, she found it hard to believe her daed was concerned about Frannie’s love life. “Frannie and Luke have fallen in love. Frannie’s never been happier, and Luke is willing to leave his city life and his position in the city police department for a life in Crittenden County. I think that’s something to celebrate.”

  “But he is not Amish. And that man carries a weapon.”

  “I know. But I don’t think you can always choose who you fall in love with, Daed.”

  Folding his arms across his chest, he looked at her with more than a little skepticism. “Is that right? Well, if you don’t do the choosing, who does?”

  “God, Daed. I think God helps us find the right mate in life. And for reasons we don’t know, He’s chosen Luke for Frannie. I’m going to spend the night at Frannie’s house, then go straight from there to work at the Schrocks’ store.”

  His frown deepened. “I wish you had never taken that job. Whenever I think of the store, I’m reminded how working there ruined Perry’s life.”

  Deborah gulped. Her father’s words seemed to have double meanings. It now was evident that Jacob Schrock had ruined Perry’s life. And perhaps all the hatred and violence had begun at the store.

  Put that way, her father’s words made a lot of sense.

  So why wasn’t she also thinking the same things? Why was she still holding a cell phone, all for the slight chance that Jacob would call her again?

  And why wasn’t she anxious to quit her job? She should want to put as much distance between herself and the Schrocks as possible!

  “I’m going to leave now, Daed. I don’t want to walk to Frannie’s in the dark.”

  His face fell. Steeling herself, she turned and walked out the door.

  Chapter 17

  “When Mr. Schrock said he could never keep a secret from his wife, Perry had laughed. ‘Everyone has secrets they don’t want anyone to know,’ he said. Maybe he was right?”

  WALKER ANDERSON

  Uh-oh,” Mose muttered just seconds before Frannie and Deborah Borntrager entered the office. “I do believe things just got more complicated.”

  Luke was afraid his old friend was right. He loved seeing Frannie, of course. But this was not the right time. “Frannie, honey, I can’t chat now.”

  Her blue-gray eyes flashed in annoyance. “Oh, Luke. Of course I know that.”

  “Of course?” He raised his brows. “If you didn’t come here to talk, why are you here?”

  Some of the fire in her expression faded. “Deborah asked me to come with her.”

  Silently, Deborah nodded.

  Mose sighed. “Deborah, I’m not going to let you talk to Jacob.”

  “It’s not that,” Deborah protested. “I didn’t come to talk to Jacob. I . . . I have something to show you both.”

  Curious, Luke turned to Deborah. “What do you have?”

  “A note.”

  She looked on the verge of tears. Luke grabbed a box of tissues and handed her one. “Why don’t you sit down, Deborah?”

  “Danke,” she said, taking the chair next to Mose’s desk.

  When Frannie looked about to pull up another chair, Luke shook his head. “Frannie, it’s a nice day out. Would you mind sitting on the bench outside?”

  “Oh. All right, Luke.” Turning to Deborah, she said, “Just tell them what you told me and it’ll be all right. I promise. I’ll be out here waiting.”

  Once the door was closed behind Frannie, Mose pulled up another chair, so they were all sitting in a semicircle around Mose’s metal desk. Once he was settled, he looked at Deborah curiously. “What is this note you have to show us?”

  Her hands shook, but she opened up her purse and pulled out a worn-looking devotional.

  Luke shared a glance with Mose. Deborah had decided they needed to pray more? “It’s a prayer book,” he muttered. When she flinched, he knew he should apologize, but his patience was near its end.

  “Luke, I’ve got this,” Mose murmured as he picked up the book. “This looks mighty nice, Deborah. I am sure I’ll put it to good use this evening.”

  She blinked owlishly. Then frowned as she pulled the book back out of his hands. “Sheriff Kramer, I didn’t walk over here to bring you a devotional. I slipped a note inside it.” Taking a deep breath, she opened the book to the center and pulled out a neatly folded white sheet of paper. “A few weeks ago, I found this inside Perry’s bedside table. I thought you might use it against Jacob, so I took it and hid it.”

  Luke opened the note and read carefully. “ ‘Perry, you’re going to regret the things you’ve been doing. I’ll make sure of it,’ ” he said out loud. After he passed it to Mose, he rested his palms on his knees. “Any idea when Jacob sent this?”

  Deborah shook her head. “No. When Perry went missing, I looked through his drawers, thinking maybe I’d find a clue about where he went.”

  “And this didn’t look like a clue to you?” Mose asked.

  “Maybe it did, maybe it didn’t.” With a grimace, she squeezed her hands tight. After it looked like she got her nerves back under control, she spoke again. “Detective, I was afraid for anyone else to see it. I thought Jacob was simply mad about how Perry had been acting at the store. I never thought he’d act on it. But after his call, I knew I wasn’t going to be able to rest until I showed this to you.”

  Standing up, Luke handed her back the devotional. He felt beyond frustrated with her. Withholding this from them had been foolish and had cost him and Mose valuable time. But, he knew venting his annoyance wasn’t going to make anything better. “Thanks for coming by, Deborah.”

  She bit her lip. “Does . . . does this make things worse for Jacob?”

  “Let me walk you out,” Mose said, completely ignoring her question. “Are you and Frannie going to be together for a few hours?”

  “Yes. We are going to her home. Some other girls are going to meet us.”

  “Then if we need you, we’ll know where to find you. Thank you, Deborah,” he said, then shut the door tight behind her.

  When they were alone again, Mose folded his arms over his chest and shook his head. “I’m telling you what . . . if we don’t discover what really happened soon, I’m going to strangle the whole lot of ’em.”

  “I know the feeling. So far, not a person we have talked to has told us the complete truth from the very beginning.” Luke pointed to the door. “You ready to go see how Jacob reacts to seeing this note?”

  Mose waved a hand. “I’m more than ready.”

  Walker insisted on taking Lydia to Frannie’s bed-and-breakfast. “I like picking you up and taking you where you need to go,” he said. “Plus, with all the work I’ve been doing, we’ve hardly been spending any time together.”

  Lydia felt the same way. “I’ve missed you.” Patting the cushion on the couch next to her, she added, “I am glad you had time to come over a little early. I haven’t seen you in two days.”

  Stifling a yawn, he asked, “Are you sure you don’t want to beg off? We could spend the evening together.”

  “I wish I could, but Frannie said getting together was important. She said Deborah is feeling pretty blue tonight.”

  His eyebrows rose, but to her relief, he didn’t object. “I’m just teasing you. My mom likes to go to her book clu
b meetings once a month. But my dad and I get the feeling that she doesn’t talk about books as much as laugh with her girlfriends. Maybe one day when we’re married, you’ll be wanting to do the same thing.”

  Lydia felt her pulse jump a little bit. No matter how hard she tried to take all the changes in her life in stride, she still got as giddy as a schoolgirl whenever she thought about being Walker’s wife.

  “Perhaps,” she teased. “Would it bother you if we did have a girls’ night every once in a while?”

  “Probably not.” With a sneaky grin, he added, “But of course, then you would have to let me have a hunting weekend with the boys every once in a while.”

  “I suppose I could let you do that.” When she noticed he yawned again, then winced as he tried to stretch, she took a better look at him. He wasn’t just sleepy—he was exhausted!

  When he winced again when he shifted, she said, “Walker, you look like you’re hurt.”

  “I’m not hurt. I’m just more sore than I’ve ever been in my whole life.” He lifted an arm with another wince and rolled his neck. “Plowing behind a horse is a whole lot harder than I thought it would be. Five-hour pitching practices have nothing on that plow.”

  “Are you doing too much?” She hated to worry over him, but the plain and simple truth of it was that Walker was not used to all of the hard labor that came with the life of an Amish man working in the fields. “Do you need some more help?”

  “Believe it or not, my father came out and helped me this morning.”

  She’d only seen his dad dressed in suits. Not even trying to hide her surprise, she gaped. “Your father?”

  “Yeah.” He stretched his arm again. “Funny thing happened when I told my dad that I was going to live out at Grandpa James’s farm and try to help. It turns out that he knows a whole lot more about being Amish than I do.”

  “I suppose he would. He was raised Plain.”

  “Even twenty years of driving a car hasn’t prevented him from guiding a plow a whole lot better than me.” With a sheepish smile, he added, “Between my father showing me the right way to muck stalls and watching the other Amish men hold their tongues while I continually make mistakes, it’s been a lesson in humility.”

  “Poor Walker.” When he rolled his neck with another grimace, she twisted to sit behind him. “Relax and let me rub your shoulders for a bit.”

  He obediently shifted so his back was turned her way. “You don’t mind?”

  “Of course not, Walker,” she said, rubbing his shoulders—and frowning when she felt all the knots in his muscles. “My goodness, no wonder you’re sore! I think all of your muscles have frozen in knots.”

  “It feels like it. I felt a little better after a hot shower, but now it feels like I’ll never be pain-free again.”

  Massaging his neck, Lydia smiled as his shoulders and neck relaxed, little by little. When he sighed in relief, she chuckled softly. She could get used to this, she realized. There was something about helping him at the end of the day that made her feel worthy.

  She could imagine the two of them spending many an evening together. Of course, they wouldn’t be sitting like this, they’d be on their front porch. Or sitting together, enjoying the peace and quiet of their home after they each had spent most of their days outside.

  “Can you rub just a little to the left, Lydia? I’ve got the worst crick right . . . there.”

  Feeling another knot, she massaged harder. “I hope your mother is rubbing your father’s shoulders right now.”

  “He probably doesn’t even need it.”

  “He needs it! His head might remember how to plow, but I assure you, his muscles haven’t missed the activity. Coaxing a horse to pull a plow through acres of land isn’t easy to do.”

  She took a breath, remembering all the evenings her father came home, looking muddier than the horses. “Then there’s the mud. The rain makes the plow move easier, but it brings on its own set of problems, too. Why, one evening, my mamm made my daed wash up outside, he was so dirty!”

  Her hands slowed as she realized Walker hadn’t said a word. “Walker?” she murmured.

  When he still said nothing, she leaned around to see his face.

  Then, of course, she had to smile. Walker Anderson had fallen asleep.

  Getting to her feet, she went to go get him a quilt.

  Her mother stopped her at the door. Frowning at Walker’s body slumped in the chair, she asked, “Is Walker okay?”

  “He fell asleep,” Lydia said. “After plowing all day, I think he’s more tired than the horse!”

  Her mother chuckled. “I’m sure he is. Plowing is mighty hard work. I bet he is sore as well.”

  “Mamm, I was on my way to get a quilt to cover him up. I thought I’d let him sleep for a while. Is that okay with you?”

  “That is fine. A nap will do him good.”

  “It will, though I have plans to go to Frannie’s tonight. Walker was going to take me there.”

  “How about I make him a bowl of stew? You can bring him a bowl in about fifteen minutes. After that, he should be fortified enough to drive you to Frannie’s.”

  Lydia was touched. Her mother was really bending over backward to develop a relationship with Walker. “Thanks for being so nice to him, Mamm.”

  “He loves you, Lydia. Every time he’s near you, he looks like the sun rises and sets on you. I can’t fault that. All a mother really wants is for her daughter to love a man who loves her back.”

  Lydia knew Walker loved her. It gave her such a sense of security, knowing that she’d found the right person to spend the rest of her life with. “He’s still seriously thinking about adopting our ways, Mamm,” she whispered. She wanted that so badly, she was afraid to even mention it out loud.

  Practically reading Lydia’s mind, her mother said, “If Walker chooses to became Plain, that would be an answer to a prayer, Lydia.”

  When her mother went to the kitchen, Lydia ran to get a quilt and softly laid it over Walker’s chest and lap. Then she sat beside him and watched him sleep.

  And gave thanks to the Lord for all of her blessings.

  Frannie, only you would make a cake at a time like this,” Beth Byler said when the four of them watched Frannie bring in a chocolate cake, plates, napkins, and forks all on a tray.

  “As I told you, a time like this deserves chocolate. That can’t be denied.”

  “You’re right,” Beth said with a comforting smile toward Deborah. “Do you think you’ll be able to eat?”

  “I don’t know. Frannie, the cake looks good, but right now I feel like everything is going to send me rushing to the bathroom. My stomach seems to be tied up in knots.”

  “Well, who can blame ya?” Sitting at the far side of the coffee table, Frannie said, “Are you glad you went and talked to the detectives?”

  She thought about it. “I’m glad, I suppose. Even if it hurts Jacob’s feelings, I didn’t want to harbor any more secrets.”

  “I think that’s a gut plan.”

  “I hope so. I am glad he called me, too.”

  “That says a lot. He didn’t have to call just to tell you his side of the story.”

  “It was good to hear the truth from him. Well, at least most of the truth.” After weighing the options, she went ahead and told the other girls the whole story. “He said they fought, and that he hit Perry and Perry hurt his head.”

  “And that is how Perry died?”

  “I don’t know.” Shrugging, she added, “Jacob promised that Perry was alive when he left him. And he swore up and down that he didn’t put him in the well. Perry sure wouldn’t have gotten in the well himself.”

  “Does it make a difference if he did that or not?”

  “I’m sure it will to the police.”

  “I mean to you. Does it make a difference to you
? Will you ever be able to forgive Jacob?”

  Forgive? “I don’t know,” she replied, weighing each word with care. “There’s a part of me that doesn’t want to forgive him for anything. I want to put all my energy into hating him, and blaming him for Perry’s death.”

  Beth crossed her arms over her chest. “No one would blame you if forgiveness came hard, Deborah.”

  “Though forgiving is who we are,” Lydia reminded them quietly. “If he told you the truth and repented, you need to forgive him.”

  “I know. I’ve been thinking about that.” Actually, she’d been weighing the pros and cons of forgiving him already.

  But not because she was Amish, and that it was the right thing to do. But she was considering forgiving him because she’d fallen in love with him.

  And she knew in her heart that he’d told her the truth . . . that Perry had gotten injured in an accident. And that someone else had put Perry into the well and left him to die.

  But was that wrong? Was that disloyal to her brother and her parents? If Jacob had gotten help, would her brother still be alive?

  “What is going to happen now?” Frannie asked.

  “I don’t know. After I talked with Mose and Luke, I walked out to you. Maybe Jacob’s still in the sheriff’s office.”

  Beth pointed to Frannie’s cell phone. “Can you find out what’s going on, Frannie? I bet since Luke loves you, he’d tell you everything.”

  She shook her head. “I’m afraid not. Luke wouldn’t tell me if I asked, and I don’t want to ask him. I don’t want to put him in that position. I need to trust him to do his job . . . and he needs to be able to trust me to give him space.”

  “I think Jacob’s parents will get a lawyer. And if they do, he might get out on bail,” Lydia said.

  When the other girls looked at her surprise, she shrugged. “Before Walker moved to his grandparents, we spent quite a few evenings watching Law and Order at his house. His parents love the show.”

  Deborah couldn’t help it, she giggled. So did Beth.

  Frannie’s face split into a wide grin. “You’ve been watching crime shows with his parents?”