by Nancy Mehl
“Did you have any problems with the rain? It poured buckets and buckets here.”
I briefly told him about getting stuck at Abigail’s, but I left out the part about the truck. I was determined to look at C.J.’s bumper once more before I said anything to anyone else, even Sam. And especially Pat.
“I’m just glad you’re okay,” Sam said. “I told you to get rid of that car. It’s too small and lightweight for the country.”
“Could we deal with this some other time?” I asked impatiently. “Is Sweetie over at my house?”
“Yep. She’s been there for a couple of hours. Took some strawberry pie with her.”
“Sweetie and her pie. For goodness’ sake. And why didn’t you go with her? I mean, this is your wedding, too. Maybe you should get more involved.”
There was silence on the other end. Finally he said, “Look, Gracie. I’m putting on a monkey suit. That should be the only thing the man has to do. The rest of it belongs to the woman.”
“You did not just say that,” I retorted. “When I get back there …”
He burst out laughing. “I’m kidding.”
“Laugh all you want, monkey suit boy. You’re still in trouble.”
“Hey, that Murphy lady called. She needs to talk to you. I told her you were going to Topeka. She wants you to call her. She says she has something important to tell you.”
I thanked him, told him what time I thought we’d be home, and then hung up. Gabe, John, Ida, and Sarah were visiting and didn’t seem to be paying any attention to me, but I didn’t want to take the chance they might overhear my conversation with Susan. I stepped out into the hall and asked a nearby nurse if there was another phone I could use. She directed me to an empty room. I dug through my purse and found the business card Susan had given me. I dialed the number and after several rings, she answered.
“Susan, it’s Gracie. Sam said you’d called?”
“Yes, Gracie.” She lowered her voice a couple of notches. “I told you I’d check with the KBI about Hannah Mueller? Well, I did. As you suspected, until recently they were treating her disappearance as that of a runaway. Pat Taylor has already asked them to see if Hannah’s situation could be tied to the murder in Topeka. I voiced my own concerns as well, and they promised to step up their efforts.” She sighed. “I hope it helps. I pushed about as much as I dared.”
“Thank you so much,” I said, deciding not to mention that Pat had already told me about her involvement. “I’m glad Pat actually followed through, but I’m sure your input will push the investigation forward even more. I’m so relieved to know that the KBI is finally taking Hannah’s case seriously.” I cleared my throat and hesitated.
“Is there something else?”
I carefully explained my concerns about C.J. Bradley. “I don’t want to overreact, Susan. It just seems odd. C.J. showing up now and his truck matching the description of a vehicle that might belong to a serial killer.”
“You should probably contact Sheriff Taylor first,” she said.
“I would, but so far, he’s been less than enthusiastic about my suggestions.”
She grunted. “I understand completely. He’s got a hard head.” She paused, and I could hear papers shuffling in the background. “Give me a few more details about this C.J. person.”
I quickly told her everything I knew. “Let me see what I can do,” she said. “Hopefully, they’ll follow up on this lead now that they’re headed in the right direction.”
“Can you please keep my name out of it? There’s already one former suspect who won’t talk to me. I don’t want to make another enemy.”
“I’ll try. If I find out anything helpful on this end, I’ll contact you. And keep me updated, okay? I’m still praying Hannah will just show up. She may be a little worse for wear, but she may also be much more thankful for her good home and her loving parents.”
“I sure hope you’re right.” I thanked her again and hung up. I felt bad going over Pat’s head again, but after the bawling out I got about Rufus, I had no intention of mentioning C.J. to Pat. Even if I did, I felt pretty sure he wouldn’t take it seriously.
I headed back to Sarah’s room, ready to apologize for interrupting our visit to talk on the phone. But when I entered her room, I saw something that made the words stick in my throat. John stood by Sarah’s bedside, holding her hand. And Gabe, who was only a few feet away, was smiling. He must have noticed the dumbfounded look on my face because he laughed.
“Now don’t get emotional,” he said, “but the three of us are working things out.” He slapped John on the back. “If things keep going well, there may be more than one wedding in Harmony this summer.”
I felt so overwhelmed I grabbed a nearby chair and sat down. “I can hardly believe it,” I said rather breathlessly. “Can this be true?”
Sarah giggled. “Why, Gracie Temple. You’re the one who told me God could do anything—that I shouldn’t give up hope. Now look at you.”
“You’re right. It’s just that … well, Gabe …”
“I told you that Sarah couldn’t be unequally yoked,” Gabe said. “Now Sarah and John are one in the Spirit. John has made it clear that he respects Abel Mueller and our church and has no problem attending there.”
“And I also told him that I’d wear sackcloth and ashes if it made him happy,” John interjected. “What I wear is meaningless to me. What I feel on the inside means everything.”
Gabe cleared his throat. “Which also helped me to realize that it isn’t our traditions that make us who we are. It’s our hearts. And John has one of the most honest, sincere hearts I’ve ever come across. I love him like a brother now. Loving him as a father won’t be hard at all.”
“And guess what else?” Sarah said. “Papa says I can wear prettier colors from now on. Like the other ladies in church.”
Gabe nodded. “Abel has convinced me that dressing modestly doesn’t mean we must look as if we’re on our way to a funeral.”
“I pointed out that if God painted all the flowers with color, why wouldn’t He want His people to be clothed the same way?” Sarah’s eyes twinkled, but I knew it wasn’t because of the new dresses she would be wearing. It was because God had saved John and given them both the deepest desire of their hearts.
I sighed with happiness. So many wonderful things were happening in Harmony. Maybe it was a sign that Hannah’s situation would soon be resolved as well.
We visited for about another twenty minutes, but it was clear Sarah was getting tired, so Ida and I excused ourselves and headed home. We were both so happy that we chatted nonstop all the way. I wondered if Ida would agree with Gabe’s acceptance of John before he actually joined the church, but I needn’t have worried. She was ecstatic, but not just because it looked as if Sarah and John would finally be together. The elderly Mennonite woman rejoiced more that John had finally found his way to God.
As we headed down the road to Harmony, I told her I needed to make one quick stop. “There’s something at Abigail’s house I need to check,” I told her. “If you don’t mind, I’d rather not explain. Would it bother you to sit in the car for a few minutes and wait for me?”
She frowned. “No, liebling. If it is something you must do, I will be glad to wait. But is there something that troubles you? Is there anything I can do to help?”
I assured her there wasn’t and asked her to trust me. Then I turned down the road that led to Abigail’s house, grateful that the rain had stopped so I wouldn’t end up soaked by the time I finished my mission. Thankfully, there was a line of trees that hid a section of the road from the house. I left Ida in the car while I trudged down the road with a small flashlight I kept in my glove compartment. I left it off since there was still enough light left to see the way. However, it wouldn’t last long. Any daylight peeking through the still cloudy skies overhead would soon disappear. The flashlight would help me to see C.J.’s bumper and would also guide me back to my car. The flashlight was my dad’s idea.
He had a strict list for my glove box. Registration, title, and flashlight. Check. I sent up a prayer of thanksgiving for my father as I approached the house. I felt fairly safe. Unless someone specifically looked out the windows on the west side of the house to see if some crazy girl was wandering through the field, I wouldn’t be noticed. Even so, as I got closer, I tried to be as quiet as possible. Unfortunately, the rain had created a lot of mud. My sneakers weren’t as sneaky as they should have been. A weird sucking sound occurred every time I took a step. It was noticeable to me, but I consoled myself with the knowledge that it wasn’t something anyone inside the house could hear.
I made my way around to the back of the house and was surprised to find nothing. No truck. Had C.J. gone into town? Was ruining my best sneakers all for nothing? A quick glance through the yard revealed the large outbuilding I’d noticed during my first visit. The door on the front was unusually large. More like a garage door. Maybe the truck was inside. I crept up to the building. Although the structure appeared to be decrepit, it was actually much sturdier than I’d originally thought. I found a regular door in the back and pulled on the latch. The loud creak made my heart race. I peeked around the corner toward the house to see if anyone else had heard it, but no one stirred. I could see that the windows were open and the curtains were drawn back, probably to get some air circulating. The shimmering lights from inside came from oil lamps. Even though they usually have a glass hurricane cover to protect the flame, air can still get inside from the top and make the flames flicker. It gave the house an eerie look, creating shadows that appeared to be caught in some kind of macabre dance. A shiver ran down my spine, but I reminded myself that no one knew I was there.
I slipped inside the dark building. Sure enough, the truck was parked inside. Feeling my way around the side with my hand, I made my way to the back. Turning on the flashlight, I aimed it on the right bumper. There was a bear on the sticker all right, standing on top of a hill. I moved the beam of light along the bottom border. It read CALIFORNIA REPUBLIC, and over the bear, on the top left side, was a star. “It’s a California flag,” I whispered into the dark. Well, that didn’t seem very ominous. How many people from California had them? I sat on the bumper for a moment, trying to decide what to do. Should I let this go? Or should I call Pat? The war in my mind waged against the feeling in my gut. Where was my peace? I knew that’s what Ida would ask. At that moment, I had no idea. Ida. I needed to get back to her before she began to worry. I stood up and started toward the door when I heard a loud thumping noise. It frightened me so much a small scream escaped my lips. Was C.J. out there? Had I been discovered? I waited several seconds, but there was only silence. I crept closer to the door. There it was again! Two thumps this time. Was someone knocking on the wall outside the makeshift garage? I had two choices. I could step outside slowly and confront whoever was out there, or I could take off running like the devil was chasing me. After looking carefully around the corner and seeing no one, I chose the latter. Of course, with all the mud, the devil probably could have simply strolled next to me and not broken a sweat. But I moved as fast as I could, keeping the light from the flashlight in front of me. At this point, I didn’t care who was watching. It was so dark outside, no one would be able to clearly see me.
“Look, Mama,” C.J. might say. “There’s a strange light bouncing through the field.”
That was a lot better than, “Look, Mama, Gracie Temple is running around outside like an insane person. Wonder what she’s up to?”
I finally made it back to the car, but my sneakers were so caked with mud I could barely lift my feet. I opened the car door, sat sideways, and pulled them off. A weird slurping sound accompanied my task. Now what? I felt a hand on my shoulder.
“Hand them to me, Gracie,” Ida said. I swiveled around and saw that she’d removed a towel from the basket and had it on her lap. “I was certain you would need help with your shoes when you returned. Let me clean them for you while we … make our getaway? Is that the correct phrase?”
I started to protest, to tell her that my schlepping through a muddy field in the middle of the night had nothing to do with anything underhanded, but she wouldn’t have believed me. And she would have been right. So I just handed her the shoes, closed the car door, backed up a bit, turned the car around, and headed back to the main road. I waited to flip on my headlights until I was certain my car couldn’t be seen from the Bradley house. I kept looking in the rearview mirror to see if a red truck was on our tail, but no one followed us. When we turned onto Faith Road, I breathed a sigh of relief. Ida carefully wiped my shoes off the best she could, leaving globs of wet mud inside the towel, which she held on her lap. The entire time she didn’t utter a word.
“Aren’t you going to ask me what I was doing?” I said finally.
“No, liebling.” Her voice was soft in the dark interior of the car. “You do not have to explain everything to me. If it is my business, you will tell me.”
Odd how the fact that she didn’t ask for an explanation made me want to give her one, but I decided not to. Lobbing false accusations against your neighbors was a big no-no in the Bible. However, in my mind thinking about it wasn’t quite as bad. I needed some time to sort things out before adding C.J. to my list of bogus suspects.
“Thanks, Ida. I appreciate it. I’ll tell you one of these days why I did this. But for now, if you don’t mind, I’d rather not.”
“I trust you, Gracie. In fact, I knew you were someone I could trust from the first moment I met you. Nothing has changed. Nothing ever will.”
And that was it. I glanced over at the elderly Mennonite woman, dressed in her Old Order clothes, and was surprised to realize that Ida Turnbauer was one of the best friends I’d ever had. As much as I loved Sarah, I wasn’t as close to her as I was to Ida. I started to get a little emotional, so I tried to turn my thoughts back to C.J. Bradley before I burst out into a chorus of “Wind Beneath My Wings.” A song Ida had probably never heard in her entire life.
The fear of offending C.J. and the real possibility that my actions could cause Pat to consider using his gun to stop me from causing any more trouble played against my overwhelming desire to find Hannah. By the time we reached Ida’s, I’d made my decision.
I helped Ida up the stairs with her basket. “If you’ll give me that muddy towel, I’ll wash it and return it,” I said when we reached the porch.
“No, liebling,” she said. “I am happy to wash the towel. It is no trouble at all.”
I knew arguing with her would be useless so I didn’t. “Thank you, Ida. I had a wonderful day. Spending time with you is a joy.”
“Why, my precious girl,” she said, patting my cheek with her hand. “That means more to me than you could possibly know. You are such a dear friend.”
“As are you.” I kissed her cheek and waited while she opened her front door. Then I set the wicker basket inside. “I’d be happy to carry this to the kitchen.”
“Thank you, Gracie. But that is not necessary. It will be fine here until I am ready to clean it out.”
I said good-bye and left, still basking in the glow of treasured friendship. On the way home, I looked at the clock on my dashboard. Nine o’clock. I had one last thing to do before bed. I had no plan to tell Pat I’d asked Susan to follow up on C.J. It would make more sense to hang myself now and get it over with. But if I voiced my suspicions about C.J. and he contacted the KBI himself, there was a chance he would never know about Susan’s involvement. It was a chance I was willing to take. So when I got home I called Pat.
One more time.
Chapter Twenty
Let’s just say that the phone call didn’t go well. At all. The first time, he just hung up on me. After letting the phone ring and ring the second time around, he finally picked up. I launched into a lengthy explanation as to why I felt he needed to follow this lead. Then I promised profusely that this would absolutely be the last time I bothered him with a possible suspect. That seemed to f
inally get his attention, although I had to listen to several minutes of ranting and raving, including the use of some words I’d actually have to look up to understand. I had the distinct feeling these pearls of “wordom” would not be found in my handy Funk and Wagnalls. When he finally calmed down a little, I tried again.
“Look,” I said firmly, “we can’t leave any stone unturned. If it makes you feel any better, I think this is the last red truck in Harmony you’ll need to worry about. I’ve probably checked out all the rest. I just didn’t see this particular truck until today.”
“Well thank goodness for that,” Pat replied, although it sounded more like, “Well. Thank. Goodness. For. That.” I had no idea why his words were spoken with so much emphasis and definition. Perhaps getting them out coherently took extra effort.
“C.J. isn’t from around here,” I explained. “He’s from California, and he probably lived there when some of those murders took place. And you said there were others in Arizona and New Mexico, right? Obviously, your killer lived somewhere in that part of the country. C.J. fits the bill.”
The silence from the other end of the phone line wasn’t very reassuring. Finally a long, drawn-out sigh came through the receiver. I wondered if he had any air left. “All right, Gracie. One last time. But I mean it. This is the end. My deputies are beginning to think I’ve lost my mind. Spending all this time on a runaway.”
I bit my lip and didn’t utter what had become my mantra the past few days. Hannah is not a runaway. I didn’t have the nerve to say it again or to tell him that thanks to Susan, the KBI might get more involved in his case even without his help. I wasn’t sorry I’d contacted Susan. I couldn’t take the chance that Pat would drop the ball or refuse to follow up on C.J. At least now I had two people pushing for an investigation of C. J. Bradley. Hopefully, this plan wouldn’t blow up in my face. After all, Pat was about to become my father-in-law. Holiday dinners could be tense.
“Changing the subject for a moment,” he said. “Sam called and invited me to the wedding rehearsal. And the dinner.”
