by Nancy Mehl
“Now who in tarnation can that be?” Sweetie murmured. “Botherin’ people when they’re tryin’ to eat.” She got up and went to the door, mumbling all the way. Most people in Harmony knew better than to bother Sweetie at suppertime. I felt sorry for whoever was waiting on the other side of her front door. We heard voices and then footsteps in the hallway. Pat Taylor came in, his hat in his hands.
“Pat needs to talk to you, Gracie,” Sweetie said. Her sour expression made it clear she wasn’t happy about her impromptu visitor.
I started to stand up, but Sam grabbed me and pulled me back into my seat. “Is this about Hannah?” he asked.
Pat nodded, and I gasped.
“Why don’t you tell all of us, Pat,” Sam said. “If something has happened …”
“It’s not bad news,” he said quickly. “We still haven’t found her.” He gazed around the table. “I don’t want to interrupt your dinner.”
“A little late for that,” Sweetie grumbled.
Pat nervously rotated his hat with his fingers. “Maybe I should come back some other time.”
“Nonsense,” my dad said. He stood up and pointed to an empty chair at the end of the table. “We’ve all heard about Hannah’s disappearance. Why don’t you have a seat and tell us what’s going on? I know we’re all very interested.”
“Yes, Pat. Please sit down,” I said. “Are you hungry?”
He looked at Sam who didn’t offer any kind of encouragement, but he slid into the chair next to my dad anyway. “Uh, no. That’s okay. I just wanted to bring you up to date. I should have called first, but I was in the area. I tried your place first, but when I found out you weren’t home, I thought I’d check to see if you were over here.”
“I’m glad you did, Pat,” I said.
My father stuck out his hand. “I’m Daniel Temple, Sheriff. I’m Gracie’s father. And this is my wife, Beverly, and my father, Joe.”
“I’m happy to meet you,” Mom said.
My grandfather didn’t say anything, but he nodded at Pat.
“Daniel Temple,” Pat said. “Your brother was Benjamin?”
“Yes, that’s right,” Dad said. “Did you know him?”
Pat shook his head. “No, not really. I only met him a couple of times. I hadn’t been sheriff for that long before he died. He seemed like a very nice man.”
I glanced over at Papa. A few minutes ago he’d thought Benjamin was still alive. How would he react to Pat’s statement? Thankfully, he didn’t appear to have heard it. Instead he seemed to be focused on buttering his roll.
“Thank you,” my father said. “So what is this news you’ve brought about Hannah?”
Pat scooted up closer to the table. “The girl who disappeared from Emporia has been found. She ran off with her boyfriend. And although neither one of the girls from Topeka have been located yet, the police are pretty sure they know who abducted one of them. An ex-boyfriend threatened her the day before she went missing, and he hasn’t shown up for work since the day she disappeared. The police are confident he’s got her. They just don’t know if they’ll find her alive.”
“How awful,” my mother said. “I can’t imagine what her parents are going through.”
“About the same thing Abel and Emily are, I imagine,” I said. “So only one girl is left who could have been abducted by a stranger?”
“Yes. The girl who got into the red truck is the only remaining mystery.” He shrugged. We’ll probably find out it’s another case of someone running off with a boy her family doesn’t approve of.” He looked at me. “I wanted you to know about this so you’d quit worrying about Hannah being abducted.”
“I appreciate that, but I still have a hard time believing she took off because she’s mad at her parents,” I said.
Pat grunted. “Maybe this will change your mind. Some snooping around uncovered a little more going on between this Vogler boy and the Mueller girl.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Seems that before Hannah left for Wichita, they’d been meeting pretty regularly behind their parents’ backs.”
“That doesn’t sound like Hannah,” Sam said. Hannah was special to him. He’d encouraged her in her art and even made frames for her pictures.
“Well, Jonathan Vogler came clean when I questioned him. They think they’re in love but didn’t want their parents to know. Afraid they wouldn’t approve. One more reason for her to be unhappy at home.”
“Hannah couldn’t have loved him very much if she wanted to stay in Wichita,” I said.
Pat shrugged. “I have no idea. Maybe he planned to meet her there.”
“So you’re absolutely convinced she ran away?” I was starting to wonder if he was right.
He nodded slowly, but an odd look flickered across his face.
“What?” I asked. “Is there something else?”
“It’s probably nothing, but …”
“Tell me,” I said, pressing him.
“The Muellers can’t figure out what Hannah was wearing when she left. All of her dresses seem to be in her closet. At first I doubted they could remember every article of clothing their daughter owns, but I guess Mrs. Mueller makes all her daughter’s clothes so …” His eyebrows knit together with concern. “Gracie, are you okay?”
I’d felt the blood drain from my face so it wasn’t hard to imagine how shocked I looked. “I—I—I mean …”
“Grace, what’s wrong?” Sam peered into my eyes.
I gulped and took a big breath. “Hannah’s clothes. She—she got some jeans and a T-shirt from a girl she met in Wichita. I don’t know why I didn’t realize … I mean, she must have taken them with her when we left town.”
“You mean she could have been wearing these new clothes when she left her house?” Pat sighed and pulled a notebook out of his pocket. “You should have told me this from the beginning. I put out an all-points bulletin based on my assumption she was wearing something more …”
“Mennonite?” my dad said.
Pat nodded at him. “Exactly. I figured she wouldn’t be hard to find dressed like that. But if she blends in …”
“She could have slipped right past anyone who was looking for her,” I said. “I’m so sorry, Pat. I just didn’t realize how important it would be. I thought about telling her parents about the clothes, but they’re already so upset with me …”
“Upset with you?” my dad said. “Why would they be upset with you? You’re not responsible for their daughter’s actions.”
I recognized the irritation in my father’s tone. Papa tiger defending his cub. Mix in a tendency to mistrust anyone with spiritual authority in Harmony. “Dad, the Muellers didn’t want Hannah to go with me to Wichita. I talked them into it. Everything they worried about happened. Hannah changed in Wichita.”
“I don’t care,” he said sharply. “It’s their job to raise their daughter the right way. If she goes off the deep end the first time she gets away from them, they only have themselves to blame.”
Oh dear. This wasn’t going well. I grabbed Sam’s hand under the table as a signal for help.
“They’re just worried about Hannah, sir,” he said, taking the hint. “They love Grace. I’m sure it’s just the pressure they’re under.”
Sam’s reassurance seemed to mollify my dad somewhat. “Well, I suppose that makes sense. I just don’t want anyone trying to make my little girl feel guilty about something that’s not her fault.”
“Thanks, Daddy. I’m fine.” Ida’s words of encouragement had really helped me, even though I still wished I’d listened to Abel and Emily when they’d originally expressed their concerns. At the time, I’d been more focused on Hannah’s art than on her heart. If only I could have that moment to do over. A quick look at Ida made me realize I was going in the wrong direction … again. I smiled at her and tried to push regret out of my thoughts. I needed to concentrate on Hannah—not myself.
“Describe these clothes,” Pat said. “I’ll corre
ct the APB and get this information out as soon as possible.”
I gave him a detailed description of Hannah’s outfit. Good thing I’d looked at it so closely. “Oh, she probably had her hair down, and she might have been wearing makeup. Not a lot, but some.”
He wrote everything down and then closed his notebook. “Unfortunately, if she was hitchhiking, she would have blended in with anyone else out there on the highway.”
“Do children still hitchhike?” my mother asked. “I don’t see many girls asking for rides anymore. Too dangerous.”
Pat nodded. “You’re right, they don’t. But is Hannah aware of that? She’s lived such a sheltered life I have no idea if she knows how to protect herself from danger.”
“But that just proves my point,” I insisted. “That she could be in real trouble.”
“I understand that, Gracie,” Pat said. “But it doesn’t change the fact that she’s listed as a runaway, and as far as we know right now, that’s exactly what happened. Finding out that she put these clothes on of her own volition before leaving home makes it even clearer that she had a plan. And it wasn’t to stay in Harmony. I figure she’s on her way to Wichita. I’ve talked to your art teacher and your friend Allison. Neither one of them have seen her. Is there anyone else she might contact?”
I thought for a moment. “Her friend, Robin. The one who gave her the clothes. And you might check with Jim again. It’s possible she made friends with someone else in her class that I’m not aware of.”
He flipped his notebook open again. “Do you have Robin’s contact information?”
I shook my head. “But Jim would.”
“Okay, I’ll call this Monahan guy again.” He stopped writing and looked up at me. “Have you talked to him since you got back?”
“No, I tried to call them before we came over tonight but they were both out. I left messages to contact me if they hear from Hannah.”
This time after he closed his notebook he put it back in his pocket. “I guess that’s all I need now.” He stood up. “Again, sorry to interrupt your family dinner. I’ll be on my way.”
“Are you sure you won’t eat with us?” my dad asked. “There’s plenty, and this soup is out of this world.”
Pat’s eyes darted toward Sam. “No, but thanks anyway …”
Sam stood to his feet. “Of course you’ll stay. Sit down. I’ll get you a bowl from the kitchen.”
“Sam!” Sweetie hissed.
He ignored her while Pat gazed at him with his eyebrows arched in surprise. “I should have introduced Sheriff Taylor when he first got here,” Sam said. “This is my father.”
“Your father?” my dad said. “Why, I had no idea … Gracie, I thought you told me Sam’s father wasn’t around.”
“Daniel, hush,” my mother said in a loud whisper. “I’m happy to meet you again, Pat,” she said smiling. “Now you must sit down and share dinner with us.”
“Yes, sit down, Pat,” Sam said. “Please.”
Pat lowered himself slowly back into his chair. “Thank you. This looks really good.”
“Oh for cryin’ out loud,” Sweetie said. “Sit down, Sam. I’ll get the bowl.” She stood up and stalked out of the room.
“Sam and Pat just recently reunited,” I explained to my mother and father, hoping my brief explanation would satisfy them for a while. I could see the questions in their expressions. I prayed they’d hold them until I could get them alone and fill in the details.
“Well that’s wonderful,” Dad said jovially. “I’m so glad this happened before the wedding. Now we can all celebrate together.”
Grateful Sweetie was in the kitchen during this little announcement, I picked up my spoon and went back to work on my soup. It was a little cold, but I could almost swear it tasted even better now.
“Pat, we’re planning to go into town tomorrow,” Dad continued. “My wife and I haven’t seen Harmony for a long time. Maybe you could join us for lunch?” He looked over at me. “What time did you plan for us to eat?”
I broke open a roll and reached for the butter. “I don’t really care. Whatever works for everyone else. I intend to drive over to Abigail Bradley’s place in the morning, but that shouldn’t take long. I’ll be home in plenty of time for lunch.”
“Then how about meeting us at eleven thirty at the restaurant in town?” Dad said, smiling at Pat.
“I’ll do my best,” Pat said, “but I’ll have to check in to the office first. Why don’t you folks go ahead, and I’ll try to meet you there.”
As Sweetie came into the room with another soup bowl in her hands, my father said, “So I guess you were very involved with uncovering the body of Jacob Glick on our property last year, Pat?”
Before Pat had a chance to respond, Papa Joe jumped to his feet, flinging his arms around wildly, his eyes wide with alarm. His hand hit Sweetie who was nearby, and the china soup bowl in her hands flew across the room and shattered against the fireplace.
“You’ve got to stay away from him, Beverly,” he shouted, staring at me. “I’ve seen the devil in his eyes! Please! You’ve got to stay away!”
Chapter Nine
The air conditioner in my car had a hard time working against temperatures that promised to hit one hundred degrees by the afternoon. Even though it was only ten in the morning, the air outside was already stifling. As I drove down dirt roads to Abigail’s house, the terrible scene from last night’s dinner played over and over in my mind. It had taken quite some time to calm Papa Joe down.
No one had suspected that Jacob Glick’s name would evoke such powerful emotion. Obviously Papa’s long-term memory was still working. He remembered Glick and had been aware of his proclivities toward young women and girls. Last night he’d been reminded of his concern for my mother when she was young and had thought she was still in danger. After my grandfather calmed down, my dad took him back to my house to rest. Papa stayed confused until my parents finally got him to bed. He’d kept shouting something about evil and that he had to protect us.
“This may have been a mistake,” my father had said when he came downstairs. “I expected some confusion, even extreme disorientation from time to time. But I had no idea Papa would come unglued like this. Gracie, I’m sorry if Papa embarrassed you in front of your fiancé and his family. Maybe Mom and I should take him back to the nursing home. We could be back within the week and still have plenty of time to help you get ready for the wedding.”
“I don’t want him to go, Dad. This might be the last chance I have to spend time with him. We’ll all just be more careful and try not to say anything that will upset him.”
After some cajoling, my father finally agreed to give it more time. In the light of a new day, I wasn’t certain I’d made the right decision, but I knew having Papa here on the day I married Sam was extremely important to me.
At breakfast, Papa seemed to have no memory of his outburst the night before. In fact, he was relaxed and happy. The only glitch came when he tried to ask for pancake syrup but couldn’t remember what it was called.
I spotted the road Abigail lived on and turned down it. A couple of miles later, I saw a large white house looming ahead. As I got closer, I could see it was badly in need of paint and upkeep. A screen door on the side of the house hung by its bottom hinges, and an old, rusted tractor sat in the yard. Various items littered the yard including pieces of farm equipment and discarded furniture. Sitting back from the house was an ancient barn and off to its side was a large shed that looked deserted.
I turned into the dirt driveway, being careful to avoid several rusted tools and pieces of lumber lying on the ground. The house appeared to be abandoned. Could Ida’s friend have moved without telling anyone? I stopped my car, got out, and made my way to the rickety front porch, passing a large tree that looked as dead as everything else on the property. The boards on the decrepit porch squeaked and groaned with each step I took. I found myself watching my feet and praying the rotting wood wouldn’t splinter u
nder me. When I finally reached the entrance, I knocked on a screen door that was so loose it jiggled each time I rapped my knuckles against it. After trying several times to roust someone, I decided to make my escape before the entire structure buckled and crashed down around me.
“Can I help you?”
I was already spooked enough by the ghostly look of the disintegrating property, but hearing a man’s voice from behind me caused me to emit a high-pitched shriek that should have toppled the house without any further assistance. I swung around to find a shirtless man about my father’s age standing at the foot of the steps. His reddish-blond hair almost glowed in the sunlight. He was well built and muscular, but his fair skin was turning red from exposure to the elements.
“I’m sorry. I was looking for Abigail Bradley. A friend of hers sent me to check on her … to make sure she’s okay.”
He came up to the steps and held out his hand. “I think you’d better get off that porch before you go right through the boards. I haven’t had a chance to fix it yet.”
I took his arm and held on while carefully making my way back to solid ground. When I got to the bottom, he let go of me but stuck his hand out again. “I’m C.J., Abigail’s son.”
When I shook his hand, I noticed his firm grip. “Oh, I had no idea you were here. Ida Turnbauer told me about you. I understand you live out of state somewhere?”
He let go of my hand and smiled. “Yes, I live in California, but Mom had an accident and broke her leg. One of her neighbors called, so I took some time off work to care for her while she recovers.” He motioned toward the house. “I had no idea this place was in such bad shape. I’m trying to fix it up before I leave.”
“How long has it been since you’ve been back to Harmony?”
He sighed. “Too long, obviously. Mom is very independent and always told me she was fine in her letters.” He shook his head. “I should have checked on her sooner. I feel bad about it.”
“Well, it’s great you’re here now.” I gazed at the house. “Looks like you’ve got your work cut out for you.”
