Drizzle of Death Page 5

  “Do you recognize this?” I asked.

  Rebekah shuffled over. After reading it, she picked it up and held it to her chest. “Mine, from my childhood. I wonder where she found it.”

  She opened it and read the dedication. With a smile, she showed me.

  Honestly, I couldn’t read the script. When she caught my confused expression, she read out loud.

  To my Darling Rebekah. Remember God has you. Momma

  She started to close it when I asked her to flip through the pages. Call it a hunch, but I’d see a pucker in the middle where the pages didn’t line up. The book sprung open right to that spot.

  The corner had been turned down with a note written in the margin. “I wish I wasn’t hiding this secret. Why did Jacob do it?”

  The writing stopped there.

  Rebekah covered her mouth. A soft sob escaped between her clenched fingers.

  I didn’t know what to say. I felt like I should do something, but every thought that came to my head was stupid. Things like, “It’ll be okay. She’s out there somewhere,” seemed insane in the face of this woman’s fear.

  “I’ll help you look for her,” I finally said, rubbing her arm. “I know people who can help.”

  At that horrible moment, my cell phone buzzed, causing me to jump. I scrambled it from my pocket, intending to mute it until I saw it was from Kari.

  “Hello?”

  “Georgie? Where are you? We have friends.”

  The stress that threaded through her voice was unmistakable. I needed to get back, now.

  “On my way,” I said. She clicked off, making me feel even more nervous.

  “Rebekah,” I said gently. “How can I get hold of you?”

  Her eyelashes were spiky from tears as she looked at me. She didn’t answer.

  “I have to go. Someone’s down at the road bothering my friend.”

  She stared in the direction of the road and then back at me, her eyes wild.

  “It’s okay. She’s going to be fine. But how do I get hold of you again?”

  Her tongue darted out to lick a very dry, chapped bottom lip. The chapping extended past her actual lip, creating a red shadow below it. And then she seemed to decide. “If you hear from my Mary, go to the milking shed. I work there every day.”

  I nodded. “Do you want to come back with me?”

  Her hands squeezed her apron even tighter and she shook her head.

  “I won’t make you, and I won’t tell anyone you’re here,” I reassured her. She smiled at me, gratefully. Then I pushed through the bush and headed down the hill. When I glanced back for Rebekah, she was nowhere to be seen.

  I didn’t have a second to think about that, as now I was skidding on a rock and landing on my butt. I slid a hundred feet in a cloud of dust and rolling rocks. Shakily, I got back to my feet and started down with greater care.

  I stumbled around the pond still picking gravel out of my hands. There was Kari’s car and a figure of a man. As I walked closer, I could hear Kari say cheerfully, “There she is now.”

  A beefy, older man leaned outside her window, not in a friendly way of wanting to chat, but threateningly. His index finger was jabbing forward angrily.

  I slowed my steps, trying to figure out how to approach this. Do I tell him where I went? What other excuse do I have?

  “Hi there,” I said, crossing the drainage ditch.

  He turned towards me and scowled. “Trampsing about my property, I see.” His face was ruddy, with a white line on his forehead from where he normally wore a hat. White wrinkles fanned out against the tanned skin from the corners of his eyes. Was this the Mr. Murray that Rebecca had referred to earlier?

  “What are you doing there?” he asked, his voice raspy.

  Kari stared at me anxiously.

  My first instinct was to lie. I’m kind of ashamed of it, but the flaring of the man’s nostrils made me too afraid to confess to searching his property for a young girl.

  “I thought we hit an animal. It disappeared into your blueberry bushes. I just wanted to check to make sure it wasn’t hurt.”

  Kari nodded. “Yeah, like I told you, she’d be right back. I told you she had a good reason to go on your property.”

  He leaned away from the car and crossed his arms. His deep-set eyes glowered at me in suspicion.

  Carefully, I sidled past him, watching him for any movements like one would watch a rattlesnake. I had no idea where Rebekah was, but I hoped she was far away from here.

  “We’re leaving right now. Sorry to trouble you,” I said, climbing into the passenger seat.

  “And we’re out of here,” Kari whispered. “I swear that guy’s scarier than any email my HOA has sent me.” She shifted into gear and stepped on the gas.

  Maybe a little too hard. The man jumped back as her back tires spit gravel. He shook his fist as we sped off. And we laughed like two loons out of a movie scene.

  Chapter 7

  By the time I arrived at the bed and breakfast, it was after noon. I had the cheesecake I’d forgotten yesterday still sitting on the passenger seat. I pulled the covering back to sniff it—it seemed okay—and carried it with me into the house.

  I couldn’t wait to see what kind of lunch Cecelia had whipped up. The woman had a way around the kitchen that even Grandma once grudgingly complimented. The scent of garlic and yeasty bread greeted me at the door making my mouth water. Spaghetti and homemade garlic bread. I could cry, I was so happy.

  “Hello!” I hollered as I walked in. Power had been restored at some point, and soft music greeted me. I noticed the curtains weren’t quite pulled open in the living room and walked in there to fix it. “Cecelia?” I called.

  The B&B was vacant of guests today with some more expected that weekend. I walked into the adjoining dining room just as Cecelia was coming through. She wiped wet hands on the front of her apron.

  “There you are, GiGi! I was wondering if you were going to show up today.”

  “Maybe I can trade you?” I lifted the cheesecake. “Plus a dance for a meal?”

  “Ohh, my favorite.” She came over and accepted the pan from my hands. “Great timing especially since mine didn’t turn out yesterday.”

  “That’s actually why I picked it up. Only there’s one thing about it. It’s been sitting my van since yesterday.”

  She gave it a sniff. “No barbecue smell so I’m sure it’s fine.” She grinned at me.

  I slid off my coat and hung it in the closet. “Everyone leave today?”

  “Yes, both the Stevens and Walters. Very pleasant, those two couples. We played pinochle for quite some time yesterday, waiting for the power to come back.”

  “I’m sorry I didn’t stop by again. Yesterday was weird.” I hedged, following her into the kitchen. I didn’t like keeping secrets, and I knew my aunt was respectful of the Amish.

  “I knew something must have happened. Oscar came by at around four looking for you.”

  “For me?” I was surprised and a bit alarmed. He’d never done that before. “Is he okay?”

  “Yes.” She lifted a pot lid and stirred the spaghetti sauce. My stomach growled in response. “He mentioned something about you saying you’d bring over a turnover?” She tapped the spoon against the side of the pot.

  “Oh.” I kind of blushed. Here I was, offering people Cecelia’s food. “I did say something to him about that. Hope you don’t mind.”

  “No. Not at all. In fact, I had him over for dinner. He played a round of pinochle with us.”

  “Really?” Now I was even more surprised. Up until this moment, I would have thought Oscar was the very definition of the word, hermit. “Did he… talk?”

  “What? Of course, he did. And he was very pleasant as well. Told us all about his days working in the FBI. A very interesting life, he’s led.”

  “Huh. Well, that’s good then. I’m glad to hear it.”

  “I’ve always told you he’s a nice man.”

  I smiled. Cecelia certai
nly had, but then she thought the best of everyone.

  “Now it’s your turn,” she said, going to the cupboard for a strainer. “What’s going on with you?”

  “Me?” I tried, but there was no use trying to fake it.

  She gave me a look.

  I sighed. “There’s some crazy stuff that happened at Sunny Acres. And I’ve been pretty much kicked out of there. And today another man nearly kicked me off his property too. I just don’t know what to do any more.”

  “GiGi, it sounds like we need a sit-down.” Cecelia arched a brow. “You’re making a word salad and I have no clue where to start.” She went to the window and, with a struggle with the stiff sill, opened it to let the steam escape. “What’s this all about?”

  A breeze squeezed through the cracked window, carrying the green scent of a promised spring. I sighed as I dragged out a chair and sat in it.

  “Things just don’t seem to be working out, no matter how hard I try.”

  Cecelia reached into the cupboard for two mugs—the blue speckled ones that were my favorite from childhood. I remember when I’d lost my first tooth. Grandma had brought me here to show Cecelia. The two of them had crooned over me while Cecelia made me a cup of hot cocoa and gave me a cookie.

  She reached for the gingersnap bag now and I smiled. Those cookies were as hard as rocks, but she did love to dip them in her tea. She set the bag next to me and then returned with two steaming mugs. Then, with a thin eyebrow raised, she indicated the china bowl filled with tea bags sitting in the center of the lazy Susan.

  “Dessert before the meal?” I teased as I searched through the tea. I came up with chamomile. I could use some calming today.

  “Sometimes rules are made to be broken.” She shrugged. “Now start again from the beginning."

  “I…think there’s been a crime. Maybe even a murder. It was first presented to me as an accident but right now no one’s talking and no one even believes me. I called in Frank and I think even he doesn’t believe me. And, to top it off, the girl who originally asked for my help is missing. I don’t know if the boy is dead or alive, but I’m presuming dead. Conveniently, he’s missing, too. All of this is hush-hush. I don’t know how to fix it. I’ve never been in this position before where I felt so helpless.” I sighed.

  “Never?” Cecelia asked quietly. I knew she was referring to Derek’s death, and the aftermath when I got into the argument with the fire marshal.

  “Not since then,” I admitted. “When Derek died.”

  “GiGi, I’m going to throw something out there. Is it possible, perhaps, that your feeling of helplessness to prevent Derek’s death is spurring your drive in this Amish situation? Because it sounds like you’ve already done all you can do. The police are involved. The elders at the community are involved. It’s really out of your hands.”

  I bit my lip, considering it. Was this whole heavy feeling of failure really about trying to right the past wrongs with Derek?

  “In other words,” Cecelia stopped mid-dip of her cookie. “Why are you helping them?”

  The answer came like a flash. Maybe the negative emotions were from the past, but the reasons to search for answers were definitely from the here and now. “Because Mary is a sweet girl and she was desperate for help. Something happened to that boy but no one believes me. And now Mary is missing and, besides her poor mother, I seem to be the only one who cares.”

  Cecelia made a thoughtful “hmmm” as she took a sip of tea.

  Just then the front door crashed open and a loud, “Honey, I’m home!” rang through the house.

  Frank was here. And in an abnormally chipper mood, it seemed.

  “In here!” I yelled, feeling a few butterflies. Frank and I had been in a weird place the last few months. Weird because we’d grown closer than I ever dreamed was possible. Weird because we still didn’t exactly have a label. It’d been so long since I dated anyone besides Derek, I wasn’t sure if people still labeled things. But, consequently, I was kept a bit off guard, not knowing what to expect. I have to admit, the fear was stopping me from completely diving in.

  He came around the corner in his police gear.

  “You off, honey?” Cecelia stood up and kissed her grandson on the cheek. “Hmm, need to shave, there.”

  “Yeah, I’m off.” He grabbed me in his arms in an uncharacteristic display of affection. “C’mere. Am I stubbly?” He then proceeded to scratch his cheek against mine, ignoring my squeals.

  “Yes! Get off of me!” I yelled, after getting a quick squeeze in.

  Cecelia laughed and walked over to the drawer where, after lots of rattling, she pulled out a ladle. She dunked it into the spaghetti sauce and stirred. “Time to dish up, you monsters.”

  She didn’t have to ask me twice. At Cecelia’s table, you had clean hands, a rule that was stamped into our minds from a young age. I washed first and then took advantage of Frank’s time at the sink to dish up.

  “Geez, you act like you haven’t eaten all week,” he observed sarcastically. I didn’t say anything, filling my plate with noodles and topping it with homemade spaghetti sauce and meatballs.

  “Left one for you,” I said casually, making him jump.

  He poked around in the pot. “You better have left me more than one.”

  “Maybe two,” I conceded.

  “Shush. Frank, you know I make a panful. There’s plenty for everyone. Now one of you better help me with the bread and salad or no dessert for you.”

  I grinned. What was it about coming home that made you feel like a kid again in so many ways?

  At the table, after saying grace and taking a few wonderful bites, I started the conversation. “Frank, I’m really worried.”

  “About…?”

  “That girl. Mary. You should have seen the evil look Elder Yoder gave her when he caught us in the wheelhouse.”

  “I thought you said she ran into the woods with her friend.”

  “Yeah. She did. But her mom said she never came home.” I took another bite trying to decide how he was going to take the next bit of information. “I went up to her hiding place today.”

  “Hmm?” He arched an eyebrow.

  “Yeah, and she left a cryptic note. Something about how she couldn’t believe what Jacob had done and she didn’t want to hide it.”

  “Where was this?” he asked, slicing into the crusty bread.

  “Oh, in her hiding place,” I repeated.

  He paused and stared at me. “I’m not deaf. I’m asking where it was.”

  I hated it when he didn’t let me push him off. Grudgingly, I admitted, “Up in a cave.”

  He didn’t respond, just stared with that weighty solemnity of his that said, “I’m not giving up until you cough up all the info.”

  Whatever. “At the Murray Farm. There’s a cave up the hill at the back of the property. I guess it’s where Jacob had a confrontation with a gang of men.”

  He took a bite of the crusty bread and crunched. I relaxed, thinking I was going to get off easy.

  “So, trespassing,” he finally eased out.

  “What? I—no.”

  “No?” He tipped his head.

  Cecelia watched calmly like she was observing a fencing event. And it was obvious who was losing. My shoulders slumped.

  “Okay, so this is the way it was—” I began.

  “I knew it,” he said, stabbing at a meatball.

  “No. Wait.”

  “Listen, Georgie. I pretty much got chewed out by the captain after Elder Yoder had a little talk with him. No matter what it looks like, we can’t go hassling them. Is it possible the original story is true? That some kid got drunk and fell down the stairs and is probably home recovering?”

  “What about the fact that Elder Yoder said he had no idea who Mary was?”

  “He said he was protecting her, and that she’d been hiding at her best friend’s house all night. You need to be careful. He threatened to press charges against you. Harassment.”

&
nbsp; “I thought they didn’t like the police in their business,” I grumbled.

  Frank exhaled slowly and took another bite of his bread. I figured it was so he didn’t have to answer me. Why wasn’t he helping me more? I thought I could always rely on him. What was going on? I cut my meatball into fourths, pretty sure I wouldn’t be able to swallow over the lump in my throat.

  “Anyway, guess who I saw the other day?” Frank turned to Cecelia.

  “Who’s that, dear?”

  His gaze cut to me. “An old work buddy. Colleague, really.”

  I watched him curiously. Did his hand just go through his hair like he was nervous? I joined in. “An old colleague?” That doesn’t sound too bad. “Where did you work with him?”

  He rubbed his chin, his stubble making a soft sound against his fingers. “Uh, it’s a woman, actually.” He shook his head. “From my Army days. She was one of the nurses. Geez, it’s been so long.”

  A prickle of alarm grew in my chest. I didn’t like the way this was going, not at all.

  Still, it was only an old co-worker. Everyone has friends from the past, right? My mind conjured up a tough battle-weary woman. No make-up. Probably a stern face.

  “Are you talking about Jessica?” Cecelia asked. The joy in her voice made the prickle stronger. Who was this Jessica and why was her very name evoking so much emotion from Cecelia?

  Frank leaned on his elbow. “Yeah, she’s back in town for a while. Wanted to touch base again. She said to tell you hello.”

  “Oh, that’s wonderful. Tell her hi from me as well. We should have a barbecue.” Cecelia’s pink cheeks filled with more color and she clapped her hands together.

  “Uh,” I started to feel dumb. “Who’s Jessica, exactly?”

  Frank glanced in my direction. “She’s actually one of the nurses who helped me after I got hurt.” He rubbed his chest.

  “Oh. That’s great.”

  His eyes narrowed. “What? You’re not going to be all weird, are you?”

  “What? No. I’m just surprised you didn’t mention it to me when she first contacted you.”