Abandon the Dark

by Marta Perry

  Lainey shook her head, frowning a little. “I don’t think so. Taller than I am, certainly, but otherwise...” Her frown deepened. “It seems as if there’s something I noticed, but I can’t pull it out.”

  “A scent?” he questioned.

  “I don’t know.” Lainey snapped the words, making him realize how near the edge she was.

  “Don’t try,” he said quickly. “It may come back when you least expect it.” And if he wanted her to get through going to the dam, he’d better not press this point.

  Lainey nodded, turning to look across the mowed grass of the yard behind the house toward the band of trees that marked the dam.

  “The path is behind Meredith’s place.” Jake touched her arm to steer her in the right direction. “I don’t think we want to go trailing through the brambles this morning.”

  They walked together past the shed that marked the end of the lawn and then onto Meredith’s property. The path lay on the far side of the garage.

  Lainey moved quickly now, as if eager to get this over with. Her arms were crossed over her chest, hands knotted into fists. The wet grass was silent under their feet.

  When they reached the path, Lainey hesitated again.

  “I’ll go first,” he said, thinking that she might find that easier. He reached out a hand to her as he started down the narrow path, and after a momentary pause, she took it. Her fingers were cold in his, and he tried to warm them with his grasp.

  “You can see what I meant.” He gestured toward the weeds on either side of the path. “Long grass, then a clump of berry brambles, before you reach the trees. The reverse order of what you dreamed.”

  Lainey nodded, making no comment.

  “Not much has changed back here.” He spoke as much to fill the silence between them as because he had something to say. “People didn’t come here much after Aaron’s death. I remember my folks threatening me with grounding for a month if they found out I’d been here without their knowledge.”

  “Everyone thought then that Aaron’s drowning was an accident, right?” Lainey seemed to make an effort to speak, her voice still a little hoarse.

  “That was the general idea, I guess. I was just a kid, and all I remember is the grown-ups changing the subject when I came in the room.” He frowned, trying to separate what he’d known at the time from what he’d learned since. “I’m sure there were rumors of suicide, but I never heard anyone say it until I was older.”

  “Aaron wouldn’t kill himself,” Lainey said abruptly, and then seemed surprised at herself. “At least...”

  Jake stopped where the path entered the woods so he could turn to face her. “You sound very sure of that.”

  She shook her head, frowning slightly as if perplexed. “I guess I am, but I’m not sure why. Suicide just doesn’t seem to fit with the Aaron I remember. Maybe the three of us didn’t know him as well as we thought we did.”

  He studied her face, seeing the struggle there to reconcile her ten-year-old views with reality. “I don’t know about that,” he said finally. “Kids sometimes have a pretty good idea of what the adults around them are really like, even if they don’t have the words or concepts to explain.”

  Lainey nodded. “Maybe so. And since we know Aaron didn’t kill himself, it seems our instincts were right.”

  “Score one for the fearless three,” he said, trying to get a smile. Lainey managed one, but it was a fairly weak effort.

  He clasped her hand firmly. “Come on.” The path widened out as it entered the narrow band of trees, and they could walk side by side. His imagination presented him with an image of Lainey as a child, running toward the house with someone in pursuit. The woods would have seemed dark, the trees enormous and threatening.

  “Did the three of you ever actually see Aaron and Laura meeting here?”

  Lainey nodded, her face pale and set. “We followed them several times. It’s a wonder they didn’t take a stick to us. But that was in the daytime.”

  “Never in the evening?”

  She shook her head once and then stopped, three vertical lines forming between her eyebrows. “There was one time. Rachel was sleeping over, and the three of us were outside catching lightning bugs. I don’t remember how it happened—maybe we saw Aaron and followed him.”

  She stopped, and he suspected she wouldn’t go on unless he prompted her.

  “What did you see?”

  Lainey seemed to be staring into the past. “The water,” she said, her voice dragging. “It was shining like a mirror. Laura and Aaron. They were holding hands. Looking at each other.” She shook her head fiercely, as if to shake the image away. “That’s all. We didn’t want them to catch us spying. We went back to the house.”

  How long had that been before Aaron died? He wanted to ask the question, but she brushed past him suddenly and emerged into the clearing by the dam.

  When he caught up with her, Lainey was standing. Staring. Her face was white, her hands clenched into fists at her sides.

  Jake tried to see the scene through her eyes, but he couldn’t. He simply saw the pool, an oval widening of the creek scoured out by the dam. And the dam itself, with the ruffle of water flowing over it.

  Lainey seemed so brittle he was almost afraid to touch her.

  “Do you remember the pool, now that you see it?”

  She gave a jerky nod. He saw her eyes shift, so that she was looking at the three-foot-high fall of water.

  “It doesn’t look dangerous,” she said finally.

  “No. But it forms a kind of undertow where the water hits the pool.” He had a vivid image of Meredith, caught in the current after Victor pushed her in. If they hadn’t arrived when they did, she’d have been drowned.

  “If Aaron was caught in it...” She stopped. Shook her head. “Victor confessed. Why can’t you leave it at that?” She flung the question at him almost angrily.

  “Because it might not be true. Because you might be in danger.”

  “I don’t remember!” She swung on him, nearly shouting the words. “If I saw something that night, I don’t remember. So how can I be a threat to anyone?”

  She spun before he could answer, running toward the path. Running away, just as she had probably done the night Aaron died.

  Lainey didn’t remember. She’d convinced him of that. But if someone thought she might, she was in danger, and he couldn’t think of a thing to do about it.

  * * *

  LAINEY’S DAILY VISIT to Aunt Rebecca had been a welcome respite of relative normalcy after the terror and emotional upheavals of the past night. Her great-aunt’s physical therapist had kept Lainey and Katie both busy learning how to work with her aunt when she came home, something that was beginning to seem closer to reality every day.

  In the afternoon, while Aunt Rebecca napped, she and Katie had worked on their quilts. Katie had shown her a simple way of lining up the smaller pieces that hadn’t occurred to her. She could understand why women enjoyed doing things like quilting in groups.

  Funny. Her life and Katie’s life had been so different. They only touched in this place—their devotion to Rebecca. And yet that seemed to be enough. They’d talked and laughed together, and she’d found herself sharing some of the tiny incidents of her life that had never seemed important enough to tell anyone. Maybe they weren’t important, but it had still been satisfying to talk to someone who simply accepted.

  Lainey made the now-familiar turn onto Main Street, realizing she didn’t have to think about the route any longer. There had been only one bad moment at the rehab facility, when the neck of Lainey’s shirt had slid to the side and Cousin Katie had seen the marks left by last night’s attack. Katie’s eyes had widened with shock, but a quick shake of the head and a glance toward Aunt Rebecca had diverted any questions.

  For the moment, anyway. The Amish community was bound to hear about the police visit to Rebecca’s house sometime today. Maybe she should have gotten ahead of the rumors by telling Katie what had happen
ed, but she’d hated the idea of reliving it again. She could imagine how the rumors of the police visit would fly, adding to her already rather checkered reputation.

  At least Aunt Rebecca was improving. Just seeing her attempt at a smile and then hearing the few sentences she’d managed to speak had made all Lainey’s difficulties seem small in comparison.

  Lainey turned into the driveway, stopped beside the front porch, and felt her nerves jolt to attention when another car pulled in behind her.

  It was Jake. Not the police, not someone chasing her. Just Jake.

  She slid out and waited while he came toward her. “You startled me.” That sounded accusing, but she couldn’t seem to help it. Her nerves were in shreds, despite all her brave thoughts.

  “You must have been very intent on something not to notice me behind you.” Jake’s tone was light, but his steady gaze seemed to measure her stress. “Everything okay?”

  “Fine.” Lainey managed a smile. “Aunt Rebecca is thriving on the move to rehab. I think she sees it as proof that she’s going to get back to normal.”

  “Good.” He lifted one eyebrow. “Does the doctor agree?”

  “I didn’t see her today, but the physical therapist is very optimistic. They’ll be starting speech therapy tomorrow, as well. Katie’s excited about helping.”

  “That’s great. I have encouraging news on another front.” Jake fell into step with her when she moved toward the front porch. “We’ve had some interest in the mill property.”

  “Really?” She hadn’t expected anything this soon. “Is it serious?”

  “Colin seems to think so. The query came through a real estate agent in Harrisburg, so I guess it’s not someone local, but the potential buyer seems to know the area.”

  “It would be a relief to know the money’s not an issue.” Lainey felt in her bag for the front door key. “With any luck, Aunt Rebecca might be well enough to make the final decision by the time it goes through.”

  “With your great-aunt improving and the financial end straightened out, you’ll be able to think about going back to St. Louis before too long.”

  Was there a question contained in that statement? Lainey couldn’t be sure.

  “I suppose so.” The idea didn’t especially please her. But she didn’t want him to ask her to stay, did she? And if she did, what on earth would she find to do here? “In any event, I’m not leaving until I’m sure Aunt Rebecca can do without me, no matter how long that takes.”

  Jake propped his hand on the door frame, watching her face as if trying to read it. “I know you said your job isn’t a concern, but isn’t there anything...anyone...you need to get back to?”

  “Nobody.” That sounded rather pitiful, and she hastened to add something more. “I have friends, of course. I mean no one who...well, would really miss me if I’m not there.”

  “You can’t say that about Deer Run,” he said. “There are plenty of people here who’d miss you if you were gone.”

  “And then there are the ones who’d be delighted,” she pointed out.

  “You can put me in the first category.” The smile in his eyes seemed to draw an answering one without effort.

  The mailbox was stuffed full, probably with cards wishing Rebecca well. Lainey pulled them out and began sorting through them, relieved to have something to do that didn’t involve looking at Jake and wondering what he was thinking.

  “If any of those are bills, you can pass them on to me to deal with,” he said.

  “Looks like a batch of get-well cards.” She shuffled through them quickly. “I’ll take them—” She stopped, staring at one long envelope.

  Block printing. No return address. She’d seen similar envelopes too many times to be mistaken.

  “Is something wrong?” Jake took a step closer, making a tentative gesture as if to take the envelope from her.

  “No, nothing.” She closed her hand around it and shoved the whole batch into her bag. “Was there anything else you wanted to discuss?” Lainey tried to smile, tried not to look as if there was something poisonous lurking in that innocent batch of mail.

  “There’s the little matter of your safety,” he reminded her. “I still don’t think you should be alone at night. I can come over—”

  “No.” She said it quickly, before she could give in to the longing to say yes, please. “Really, I’ll be fine. And Meredith offered to stay if I need someone here.”

  Jake’s smile seemed to stiffen at the rebuff. He gave a curt nod. “I think you should accept Meredith’s offer. And I’ll be available. Just give me a call if you change your mind.”

  She wanted to. She couldn’t deny that to herself, at least. But the thought of what might happen if she and Jake were alone together again tonight deterred her. Any relationship between them was doomed to failure. The closer they got, the more difficult it would be to say goodbye.

  “Thank you.” Her fingers fumbled as she put the key in the lock. “I appreciate it, but no.”

  Jake took a step back, his face expressionless. “I’ll let you know as soon as I hear anything more about the property.”

  Lainey nodded, giving him a meaningless smile, and escaped into the house. She waited until she heard his car drive away to pull the envelope out of her bag.

  Quickly, before she could change her mind, she ripped it open.

  The usual sort of thing, using all the vile language the writer had at his or her command, it seemed. Lainey glanced away from the words accusing her of being no better than a murderer to look at the envelope again.

  And felt as if she were in an elevator that was suddenly falling. There was something different about this letter. It wasn’t postmarked St. Louis, as all the others had been. This one had been mailed right here.

  The envelope slipped from her fingers as the implication took on reality. It had been mailed here. That meant someone in Deer Run knew exactly what had happened to her in St. Louis. Her secret was out.

  Wait, wait, some practical part of her mind insisted. Maybe she was reading something into the letter that wasn’t there. Granted it had originated in Deer Run, but was she so sure it referred to her past? There could be—were—people who resented her assumption of control over Aunt Rebecca’s property. People like Zeb, who had something to lose. Like young Thomas, who apparently thought she was a witch.

  Lainey forced herself to spread the letter out and consider it carefully. Aside from the obvious obscenities and vague threats, was there anything that definitely pointed to knowledge of what had happened in St. Louis?

  Well, the reference to her being a murderer certainly seemed to, but nothing about it was specific enough to be certain. If it did refer to Phillip’s wife, how could someone here have found out?

  Easily, given the interest and internet access, she supposed. That would seem to rule out the Amish, although some did use computers in business, and apparently it wasn’t unusual for teenagers to have cell phones.

  Thomas was a teenager. But he seemed too young and naïve for something as sophisticated as launching an internet search for something ugly in her background.

  The Amish did write in English. She studied the block writing, but couldn’t make anything from it. No misspellings, at any rate.

  Aunt Rebecca’s letters were always written in clear, legible cursive, and she didn’t spell English words incorrectly, although she sometimes threw in a word in Pennsylvania Dutch when she apparently thought English wouldn’t do.

  Lainey hadn’t had a glimpse of Thomas since that night at the cabin in the woods. If he was still doing yard work for Jeannette, he must be managing to do it when she was out.

  Lainey went to the front window, peering across the street at the bed-and-breakfast, and discovered that her luck was in. Thomas was pruning the shrubs in front of the porch, with Jeannette standing at his shoulder and apparently directing his every move.

  Even as she watched, Jeannette turned and marched to her car, parked at the curb. She slid in, and
in a moment she was gone, leaving Thomas clipping away at what Lainey thought was a lilac bush.

  It was a chance too good to be missed. Dropping the letter, Lainey hurried to the door.

  In a couple of minutes, she was walking across the street. The afternoon sunlight slanted through the trees that lined either side, making their color blaze with fire. She crossed the lawn toward Thomas, her footsteps making no sound on the grass. Maybe that was just as well—he might run if he saw her coming.

  Lainey waited until she was within a foot of him to speak. “Thomas.”

  The boy jerked around, his eyes widening when he saw who it was. He glanced from side to side, as if seeking a way to flee.

  “Don’t be afraid.” She spoke as gently as if he were a frightened animal. “I’m not angry with you.”

  He didn’t look convinced. “The lawyer—he was angry.”

  True, Jake had been furious when he’d caught up with Thomas that evening near the powwow doctor’s cabin.

  “He thought you’d been playing tricks on me. And he was right, wasn’t he?”

  The boy stared down at his shoes. “I didn’t...I wanted...” He seemed to run out of words.

  “You wanted to protect Aunt Rebecca’s house, didn’t you?”

  He shot a quick glance at her before lowering his gaze again. “Ja,” he whispered.

  How could she get through to him? He’d undoubtedly heard all of his grandfather’s complaints about her. But why would that make him conclude that she was a witch?

  “I understand.” She kept her voice soft, sure she wouldn’t get anywhere if she frightened him again. “I love Aunt Rebecca, too. I want to take care of her.”

  For a moment he looked as if he’d speak, but then he pressed his lips together.

  Gently, she warned herself. “Aunt Rebecca was better today,” she said. “She’s going to try walking on her own soon. That’s good news, isn’t it?”

  That seemed to disarm him, as she’d hoped it might. He nodded, smiling slightly.

  The smile was a bit of a triumph, but it wasn’t getting her any closer to what she wanted to know.

  “Thomas, I don’t mean you any harm. I just want to know something. You thought I was a witch, didn’t you?”