Different Paths (19 page)

Chapter Thirty-four

There was a misty rain falling when I woke up. Queenie was happy to get outside despite the wetness, and ran around in fast circles during the short time it took to cover the distance between the house and the barn. The cows, enjoying the cool morning, were congregated outside, and had to be strongly encouraged to join us in the parlor.

My foot felt the best it had since Wendy crunched it, and I was able to get around pretty well, which was good, since Zach takes weekend mornings off. If Nick didn’t wake up in time to help, milking would take a bit longer than usual, but I felt at least like I could do it. In a few weeks the cast would be able to come off. I wondered who would be doing that. Would Dr. Peterson’s dad be taking over office hours again? Would he bring a new doctor in? And, the big question—would it be a man or a woman?

I got the girls clipped in and stood at one of the windows to take a breather. From where I stood I could see the very end of one of the neighboring developments, but other than that it was my house, my heifer barn, my yard. Nick’s truck. If I tried hard enough I could imagine that it really was just my farm, in the midst of rolling fields and crops. Truly alone.

Which made me think about how alone I actually was. Nick asleep, me out in the barn in the dark morning, the commuters not even buzzing past yet. I’d always been a morning person, and was glad about that, but today it felt a bit…creepy. I went back into the dry barn and tried to lose myself in work, but my mind wouldn’t go on autopilot. The matching fingerprints Willard had discovered, but couldn’t find in the database, kept me wondering why someone would do these horrible things after a lifetime of law-abiding living. Or of just not getting caught.

I tried to concentrate on the cows and the homey smells, the sound of the grain in the cups. Tried to lose myself in whatever symphony was on the radio, but when Queenie sat up in her corner, her ears perked, my blood pressure elevated instantly to racing speed. My shovel, which I’d taken off my truck and set in the barn after getting mulch for the Hershbergers, leaned against the wall, and I hobbled quickly toward it, grabbing the handle. Just in case.

Queenie trotted to the doorway, a low growl in her throat, and she shot out, barking. A man’s voice said, “Whoa, it’s okay. It’s okay.” His voice was strained, and I could hear fear in it.

I stepped into the opening of the door. And recognized him. “David?”

His eyes flicked toward me, but went back to Queenie, whose teeth were bared. David held up his hands, as if in surrender, knowing his bulging steroid muscles wouldn’t be much help against the teeth of a dog.

I gripped the shovel tighter, and said, “Come, Queenie.”

She wasn’t happy, but she obeyed, and stood quivering at my heel.

I laid my hand on her head. “She’s not used to people showing up uninvited this time of day. Neither am I.”

He took a deep breath and let it out, fists on his hips. “Yeah, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare anybody.” He looked from side to side, as if making sure there wasn’t anybody else hiding in the barnyard’s shadows.

I took in his Spandex shorts and tank top, and his hair, matted from the rain. “I thought you were going home last night.”

“We were, but decided to stay one last evening. We got to talking, and before we knew it, it was too late to drive home, even though it is only an hour and a half. It’s still early enough today. I can get to work at a decent time if we leave after breakfast, and Sarah can work this afternoon.”

“And what are you doing here?”

“You mean at your farm?”

Duh.

“Nothing. I mean, I wanted a new route. Thought I’d come out to your place since I knew you had an early morning schedule, too.”

“Awfully far to run. Especially in this rain.”

“Oh, I didn’t run. I rode that.” He pointed to a bike, lying on the drive. “It’s nice to change up every once in a while. I get tired of running every day.”

So take a day off. “Look, David, I need to get back to work.”

“Great. Can I help?”

I glanced up at the house, wondering if I should wake Nick, thinking I was probably just being paranoid that David had come to do me in, that he’d visited several other women or their workplaces in the past week. And I did have Queenie to watch my back. “Why don’t you just relax, if you’re staying. I have my routine.”

“Oh. Okay.”

Queenie kept herself between David and me as we walked into the barn. I leaned the shovel against the closest straw bale and headed back into the aisle of cows, turning so I could see what David was doing. He picked up the shovel and moved it to the side of the bale so he could sit down. Queenie lay down at the end of the row, where she could see both me and David. Good girl.

I felt no reason to talk to David, since I certainly hadn’t asked him to visit, and I hoped the lack of conversation would give him the hint and he’d take off. No such luck. He started the conversation, instead.

“Tricia said you did stop by the church then, the other day, after bringing the mulch.”

I jumped at the sound of his voice, right by me on the other side of Sleeping Beauty. I glanced at Queenie, and saw she was standing up now, keeping an eye on our visitor as he moved about the barn.

“Yeah. Katherine gave me the tour. Tricia was busy decorating.”

“She enjoys that.”

I stepped back to the bucket and got a rag to clean off Esmerelda’s teats. “I hear Tricia is quite the photographer, too. Or used to be.”

“She’s still good at it.”

“But doesn’t do it as a job.” He was quiet, and I looked up at him from where I squatted between the cows. “She used to, didn’t she?”

“Sure, before our kids were born. Then she stopped so she could be home with them. And then her mother moved down.”

I stood up. “And now?”

“Now, what?”

“That the kids are older. That her mother’s gone. Will she go back to photography?”

He put his hands in his pockets and rocked on his feet. “So, you’ve been talking to Katherine, have you?”

“She just said Tricia used to work as a photographer.”

“And that now the kids are older she should get back to work? She keeps telling Tricia that.”

“And Tricia doesn’t want to?”

“She has a good job. At home. She likes it. It’s where she wants to be. For now.”

I studied the rag in my hand. “She’s interested in interior design, too.”

“Because she’s enjoyed decorating our home, not as a job. What is this? You trying to convince me to let her go back to work?”

“Not at all.”

“Because it’s her decision.”

Uh-huh. “Just making conversation.”

He moved down the line, looking at the cows, stepping carefully around the dirt in his clean cross-trainers. Which reminded me of Missy, Abe’s brand-new fiancée, who had met Abe at work. Somehow I doubted she would be quitting her job to stay at home and take care of him. Like he needed that.

“She’s got them all brainwashed.”

I squeezed water out of my rag and knelt beside Ariel. “Who does?”

“Katherine. Alan and Trevor follow wherever she goes. At least Alan does it because he wants to. Trevor doesn’t have a choice. The church, and even the Grangers, seem to be under her spell. You’d think the Granger mother had grown up recently, the way she goes on, instead of in the era when women always stayed home.”

I kept my voice level. “Ma’s had to raise that family of boys mostly on her own, and she’s done a great job.”

He held up his hands. “Hey, don’t get me wrong, I know she’s a hard worker. It just seems she’d have a more old-fashioned way of viewing things.”

I switched the milker to Esmerelda. “So you have a problem with Katherine’s new job?”

He hesitated. “It’s not what I’d choose for my wife. And I don’t think Alan would’ve, either, if he’d had a say in it. Not that he’d ever admit that.”

“So you have a problem with women in authority?”

“Not in general. But in the church—”

“How about doctors? Or veterinarians? Or driving trucks?”

“What? I don’t—”

“Hey.”

David and I both looked over to see Nick in the doorway. His eyes met mine with a question, and I gave a subtle nod.

David looked with confusion at Nick, who had leaned over to pet a much happier Queenie, then back at me.

“You remember Nick,” I said. “From the gym.”

“Sure. But I didn’t know he lived here.”

Nick smiled, not bothering to correct him. “That your bicycle out there?”

“Yeah.”

“I have one a lot like that. How do you feel about—”

And they were off, talking technical bike talk, and moving outside to look at David’s model, which was probably good and wet by that time. I guessed I should’ve had him bring it inside when he’d arrived, but oh well.

A few minutes later Nick came back into the barn, without David.

“He gone?”

“Yeah.” He grabbed a rag and went to the opposite aisle to help. “What did he want?”

“I don’t know.”

He paused, his forehead furrowing.

“I know,” I said. “I was worried, too. But I had Queenie.”

At the sound of her name, Queenie looked up from where she’d lain back down at the end of the aisle. I told her what a good girl she was.

Nick still stood there. “I don’t like it.”

“I don’t, either.”

And I noticed the shovel, leaning against the wall beside the bale of straw.

“I’ll be right back.”

Willard’s home phone rang three times before he picked it up, his voice groggy.

“I have some fingerprints I want you to check against the ones from Dr. Peterson’s office,” I said. “And I’ll bet you twenty bucks they’re going to match.”

Chapter Thirty-five

The rain had stopped by the time Willard came by to pick up the shovel, so I went out to meet his car and tell him about David’s early morning visit.

He frowned. “I guess there’s nothing criminal about it. Even if exercising at that time of day ought to be against the law.”

“Exercising any time of the day should be against the law.”

He shook his head. “Slacker.”

“So you’ll test the shovel?”

“Sure. Where is it?”

I took him to it, having left it where it was so I wouldn’t smudge the prints, and he picked it up carefully by the blade. I followed him back out to his car, where he set the shovel in the back seat on some plain brown paper.

I stepped away from the car. “Let me know, okay?”

“I will. I’ll have your favorite cop go over it when he comes in.”

“Meadows again?”

“He’s the man with this stuff these days. He’ll run the prints through our computer, and we could possibly have an answer by lunch time.”

“David will be long gone by then.”

“Nothing we can do about that. But we know where he lives, right?”

Right. “Somewhere in Lancaster. We can ask Katherine and Alan if we need to. And I guess we hope he doesn’t get pissed off by any more women before we bring him in.”

“Keep this under your hat, Stella. You don’t know he has anything to do with any of these attacks. I’m only checking these prints as a favor to you.”

I looked at the ground for a moment before saying, “He’s the one on steroids.”

He gave a little shake of his head. “What?”

“Remember last night when I was asking about steroids? He’s the one.”

“And you know this how?”

“He’s huge, for one thing.”

“And…”

“He’s got acne on his back. And thinning hair.”

“All things that could be explained by something else.”

“Willard… He’s obsessed with exercise. I mean, look at him.”

“I would, but I’ve never seen him.”

“Oh. Well, he is.”

“Okay. But it doesn’t mean he’s a killer.”

I grabbed my head, trying not to let my anxiety out at Willard. “Steroids make people crazy. Their tempers flare. They’re unpredictable. Right?”

“Right.”

“So…” I held my hands out.

“So you could be right. Let’s get the prints checked before we go any further, okay?”

“Fine.”

He looked at me, his expression one of fatherly patience, even though he wasn’t old enough to be my father. “I’ll be in touch.”

He got in the car, started it, and rolled down the window. “And Stella?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re welcome.”

I rolled my eyes as he drove away, knowing he was doing me a favor, but also knowing I had a good chance of being right.

I found Lucy out at the calf hutches, where Tess was feeding Wendy’s girl.

She watched me until I got close. “He take the shovel?”

“Yeah. But he doesn’t believe me.”

“Well—”

“And Meadows is going to do the comparison. He’ll probably screw it up on purpose.”

“Stella, you have got to stop—”

I was kept from pouncing on her by the sound of a car pulling into the lane. Randy’s Caddy. With Zach in the passenger seat.

I met them by the barn, meaning to ask, like a nag, what Zach was doing in the car, and whether his parents knew where he was. But when Randy looked at me, I froze. “What the hell?”

Zach didn’t look happy. “He’s an idiot.”

Randy glared at him as well as he could through his swollen right eyelid. His nose and eye were black and blue, with an ugly yellow color seeping in, and the way he stood it seemed his ribs were sore. And I know all about sore ribs from my bike accident the summer before, so I recognized the stance without any doubt.

“What happened?”

Randy wasn’t answering, and Zach didn’t add anything more.

“Okay,” I said. “I’ll guess.”

Randy shook his head and turned away, but the pain caught him, and he stopped.

“You went to talk to your girlfriend, who doesn’t have time for you anymore.” He didn’t look at me. “Stop me when I get something wrong, okay? You went to talk to her, but made the mistake of going to the pool when she got off work.”

“He waited for her at home.” Zach.

“Okay. So you went to her house and caught her after work. But she wasn’t alone.”

“It was the guy from the pool.” Zach again.

“I hadn’t gotten there yet. So the other guy is there, and he’s acting all possessive of…”

“Crystal.” Zach was being very helpful.

“She’s acting weird, probably all worried because you caught her, and feeling guilty, too. At least I hope so.”

I looked at Zach, and he shrugged.

“So she’s dithering around, saying a bunch of stuff about why he’s there and asking you not to get mad, and the guy is looking at you all pleased with himself, so you get torqued and haul off and hit him. He fought back.”

I watched Randy for any signs of agreement. I didn’t get any. And Zach didn’t say anything, so I assumed I was right.

“So is this a case of, ‘Yeah, I’m a wreck, but you should see the other guy?’”

They gave me blank stares.

I sighed. “Is the other guy better or worse off?”

Randy glowered. Zach grimaced.

So much for that.

Randy stomped off into the barn the best he could, which I’m sure he regretted and stopped as soon as he was out of sight.

Zach stayed behind with me, and I gestured to the Caddy. “Your parents know he’s driving you around?”

“Yeah.” He made a face. “They’re not real happy about it, but they like Randy, and decided to give it a try, as long as I promise to keep him driving safely.”

Oh, great idea. One teenage boy keeping another one in check on the road. Can you say “impossible?”

“Do they know about the fight?”

“Well. No. Are you going to tell them?”

I hesitated, but said, “It’s not my place, Zach. It’s yours.”

He shoved his hands into his pockets and looked toward the barn. “Yeah, I know.”

“So why don’t you go and make sure Randy’s not taking his love life troubles out on anything in my barn.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

Oh, Randy, dumb kid. Didn’t he know a fifteen-year-old girl who can’t tell a great guy when she has one wasn’t worth it?

But then, I’d never seen the other guy.

I went into the house and found Nick at the kitchen table with his laptop, which was plugged into my phone jack. I grabbed a Pepsi from the fridge—it was only morning, but who was going to stop me?—and sat across from him. “What’cha working on?”

“Business stuff.”

“Anything interesting?”

He laughed. “Actually, no. It’s all the paperwork my sisters won’t do. I figure they’re running the place in person right now, the least I can do is the boring work.”

My stomach dropped. “You need to get home.”

“No. No, that’s not what I’m saying.”

I got up and went to the sink, looking out the window. “I don’t want to keep you here, if you need to go.”

“You’re not keeping me here. I mean, I’m here because of you, but not because you’re making me.”

“And your sisters hate me.”

“Just one of them. And she doesn’t hate you.”

His phone, sitting beside his computer, began buzzing, scooting across the slippery tabletop. He looked at the screen. “I need to take this.”

“Sure. Fine. Go ahead.”

He reached out to me as I left, but I dodged his hand. I didn’t need any sympathy touches.

Well, maybe I did, but I didn’t want them.

Lucy was still at the calf hutches, cleaning them out, while Tess had gone off to see if any of the barn cats wanted to play.

Lucy looked up. “Boys okay?”

“What? Oh, Zach and Randy?” I told her about Randy’s face.

She let out a short laugh. “I’m sure his folks were happy about that.”

“They let him ride with Randy.”

“I don’t mean Jethro and Belle. I mean Randy’s parents.”

“Yeah. It’s a wonder he’s not grounded. His parents being Mennos, and pacifists, and all.”

She leaned on her pitchfork. “Maybe they figure he’s learned his lesson and won’t do it again.”

“Right. Teenage boys are great at self-control and getting the educational aspect of each experience.”

She forked up another dirty clump of straw. The hutches weren’t too bad, since Tess and Nick had taken care of them a couple of days before, but calves do keep pooping, and you want to keep them clean.

I turned over an empty five-gallon bucket and sat on it.

Lucy glanced up at me, but didn’t say anything.

“Tess name the calf yet?”

Lucy laughed. “It’s between Tinkerbell and Perdita right now.”

“Perdita?”

“The mother in the original
101 Dalmations
movie.”

“Oh. Right.”

She looked at me a little longer before heaving the dirty straw onto a pile.

“Lucy?”

She stopped. When she saw the look on my face she put down the pitchfork and came over to kneel beside me.

“Lucy, I…I don’t know what’s going to happen.”

“With what?”

“Nick. His illness. Our relationship. This.” I gestured around us at my property.

Actually, I knew what would happen if I sold the farm. It wasn’t hard to figure out. Some developer would buy it, I’d be stinking rich, and my house would become the centerpiece of a brand new batch of townhomes, or condos, or gigantic multi-million dollar dwellings. If my house even survived. I had to hope they’d preserve it as a piece of history, but there’s no telling if that would include the barns. The yard and garden would be gone, and the field would be swallowed up in an instant.

Lucy cleared her throat. “And you’re wondering what my commitment is.” Her voice was soft, tentative.

“I guess.”

She rubbed a hand across her forehead, one elbow resting on her knees. “What do you need it to be?”

“I don’t
know
.” I pushed myself up from the bucket and walked a few paces away, where I looked past my back cornfield toward the nearest cookie cutter house. “I don’t know what I’m asking. If I’m really asking anything.” I turned around and looked at her.

She stood up. “You don’t have to ask me anything. I’ll just tell you what little I do know.”

“At least one of us knows
some
thing.”

She gave a soft laugh. “I know I’ll do whatever I can to support you, whatever that might be. If it’s continuing to work as your farmhand, I’m more than happy to. I love working here. You know that. Even if you’re not here most of the time, if you’re in Virginia, I could probably do it.”

“And if…if I sell the farm?”

“I wouldn’t buy it.”

I doubled over, as if she’d hit me, as if I’d been Randy, fighting his teenage foe.

“I’m sorry, Stella. It’s just not where I am anymore. Not that I’ve ever been in a position to buy it. I don’t have the money.”

I straightened. “I know. I
know
.” I walked over to the hutches and put my hand under the chin of Wendy’s calf. She looked at me with her mild, gentle eyes, while tears pricked my own. “I don’t know what to do, Luce.”

She came up beside me. “There’s only one thing I can tell you.”

“And that is?”

“That I’m not the one you need to be talking to. But then, I think you know that.”

But knowing something needs to be done, and actually doing it, are two completely different things.