Missing with Bonus Material: The Secrets of Crittenden County, Book One (15 page)

Chapter 20

“Perry used to walk through our fields in the evening. We didn’t care for it much, but he weren’t the only one to trespass.”

H
ENRY
M
ILLER

I
nstead of letting the attention they were getting bother them, Lydia and Walker kept walking. And walking. Little by little, the commotion of the store gave way to the smaller noises of nature. Under their feet, pavement turned into gravel, then finally just a packed dirt trail.

Cars and buggies and noise faded to sights of trees and bushes, and vibrant green vines. The only noise she heard was the sound of footsteps.

“I never get tired of walking around here,” Walker said.

“I haven’t been on this trail in ages.”

“Why not?”

“Too much to do, I guess.” But even as she said it, she knew her words were lies. Walking on the trail by herself was scary, and it made her think about how lonely she had been without Perry. It had been hard to break up with him, hard to stay away from him when it meant giving up on all the dreams she’d had. Especially when no one understood why she’d broken up with him in the first place.

“If you’re too busy to take a walk, I think you’re way too busy,” he said with a smile.

They were still holding hands, which was a fairly new experience. Perry hadn’t been much of a hand-holder—not that any of the Amish were.

She didn’t know any courting couple who would wander around Crittenden County hand in hand.

So why was she doing it?

“Thanks for coming to visit. Did you have any trouble getting out of work?” Walker asked.

His question brought her back to reality. “No. I, um, have been telling my parents that I needed some time to myself.”

“Do they know we’ve spent some time together?”

“They know.”

“And?” He glanced her way. “What do they think?”

“Truth?”

“Of course.”

“They aren’t very pleased. They think I’ve lost my mind, I’m afraid,” she finally admitted. “But I haven’t lost it. I mean, at least, not yet.”

Walker couldn’t help it, he smiled. Everything about her made him smile. “I didn’t think you had,” he murmured. Then, without his brain being aware of it, he stopped walking and turned so they were facing each other. Once again, he was struck by how pretty she was. The light brown hair framing her face looked shiny and smooth. Her blue eyes seemed to instantly reflect what she was feeling.

He half waited for her to shy away from him. To step back, to fumble with words. To tell him that they should do something else.

Instead, she surprised him.

“Did you bring me out here to kiss me, Walker Anderson?”

“Maybe,” he quipped. Though he hadn’t. “What if I did? Are you shocked?”

“I have just stood in the midst of a pair of wild guinea pigs and a hungry bull snake and survived! I’m not a woman who is easily shocked.”

Her words were teasing, of course. He almost smiled.

Then the rest of his brain told him to stop wasting the opportunity. He dropped her hand. Stepped in closer. “I didn’t bring you out here to kiss you, Lydia. But now that you mention it, I think it’s a great idea.”

Her blue eyes flashed . . . but not in fear, in amusement. “I—I didn’t mention it.”

“You did. You asked. I heard.”

Her eyes widened. Her lips parted slightly in invitation.

And so there was only one thing to do. He lowered his head and brushed his lips against hers. Then, finding no argument, he kissed her again, finally wrapping his arms around her shoulders and holding her close.

So close that it felt like their clothes melded together and their bodies were almost meshed. To his surprise, Lydia wasn’t the least bit hesitant. Within seconds, her hands were around his neck and she pressed closer.

He parted his lips, half waiting for her to pull away. She didn’t.

Finally, when he realized that his hands were starting to roam, he knew things had to end.

Abruptly, he lifted his head.

Lydia, looking flustered, stepped away.

“You okay?” he asked.

She stared back at him, her lips were still parted. But there was no fear or regret or pain in her expression.

No, instead, she looked more beautiful than ever.

And right then, right there, he knew that she’d been what he’d been missing all his life.

Especially when she nodded.

S
hame we picked today to tromp around in the Millers’ field,” Mose said over his shoulder. “We’re going to look like we’ve been mud wrestling, don’tcha think?”

Luke stumbled as his buddy’s words hit him like the back end of a piece of plywood. “Mose, since when have you been thinking about mud wrestling? And do I even want to know the answer?”

“Oh, Luke. Stop being such a prude. I was flipping the channels on the television the other day and came across a mud wrestling event that was taking place before the start of a monster car rally.”

“Oh, brother. I’m sure you did. And I guess you decided to stay on that channel and watch it?”

“It was mighty entertaining. Even some women got into the act.”

Luke stumbled, splashing more mud against his leg. “Mose, really?”

“Oh, come now. It was all in fun. And it’s not like I’m fixing to go find a woman to wrestle with.”

“I hope not.”

Mose grinned. “I’m just making conversation. Where do you think they get the mud from?” He picked up a coated boot. “Maybe from here.” He whistled low. “You know, now that I think about it, we could have our own mud rally here . . .”

He was now officially shocked. “I can’t believe you’re saying this.”

With a somewhat evil grin over his shoulder, Mose laughed. “Are you sure you’ve been patrolling the evil, dark streets of Cincinnati? Because at times I wonder if you really went to Mayberry.”

“I’ve been in Cincy. And news flash, nobody mud wrestles there.”

“They might do less bad things if they had more fun, eh?”

Luke couldn’t help but agree as he tromped on. Earlier that morning, he’d called Mose and told him he’d wanted to take another look at the spot where they’d discovered Perry’s body.

He didn’t have a good reason for the excursion except that he kept running into walls in the investigation and he had the real need for some fresh air and the company of the one person in Crittenden County who wasn’t going to lie to him.

“Well, here we are,” Mose announced a few minutes later. First pointing to a row of wood and stones, he said, “This is where Abby Anderson and her girlfriends were sitting. Then, the story goes that Abby went running after her backpack and found it pretty much resting on top of poor Perry’s body.”

Only Mose could describe it like that.

“What did they touch?”

“Not Perry, for sure!” Mose exclaimed, once again giving into his penchant for dark humor. “When we got here, the backpack was still resting on the brambles that surrounded the body.” He scratched his head, then stepped forward. “As much as I could tell, the girls didn’t get much farther than right here. They got close enough to understand what they found, then backed right up.”

Visualizing the scene, imagining the girls he’d known back in high school, Luke nodded. “I don’t know any girl who wouldn’t have done the same.”

“Me neither.”

Luke walked to the edge of the well and peered down. Looking for clues, though he knew the search would most likely be futile. “Who went down the shaft?” he finally asked.

“The medical examiner and two rookies, I think.” Mose grimaced. “Gathering Perry’s body was no easy task, I tell you.”

Though he’d seen plenty of death, his stomach still clenched. “No, I mean afterward. Who went down and collected samples? Was it you?”

“Um, actually . . . I don’t know if anyone went down the well.”

Luke turned to his friend sharply. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that I messed up,” he said after a moment. “We were in such a hurry to get the body up, well, I guess we didn’t investigate any further once the body got loaded to the ambulance.” He paused again. “It’s no excuse, but it’s just me here, you know? It’s just me and other things happened and I forgot.”

It was obvious that Mose’s information had been hard to admit. But Luke was starting to realize just how much pressure and stress would result from living the life of a small-town country sheriff. There was little support and precious few resources.

Mose shook his head. “What’s happened to me? Have I gotten stupid?”

“No.” But just the same, Luke didn’t offer any support. If no one had returned to hunt for evidence around the site of the body, then a serious oversight had been made and the responsibility rested firmly on Mose’s shoulders. “You got a camera in your car?”

“Yep. I’ll go get it. Then, I’ll climb on in and collect evidence.”

Luke didn’t volunteer to take his place. He knew Mose needed to do the hard work in order to feel better about his mistakes, plus with his bum knee . . . “And I’ll take notes.”

What wasn’t said was that in all likelihood, anything that they did find was likely unusable for evidence. Too much time had passed. A good defense attorney could argue that anyone could have tampered with the area. After all, crime scene tape seemed to only keep people out in the movies.

Moments later, Mose came loping up with a new expression of determination on his face. Still not meeting his eye, the man handed Luke a notebook, took off his ball cap, hung the camera around his neck, and put on a head lamp. Finally, he knelt by the entrance of the dry well.

Luke wasn’t sure if Mose was drawing strength or praying. Maybe he was doing a little bit of both. “You okay with doing this?” he asked after a minute.

“More than okay.” Raising his chin, he at last looked Luke in the eye. “But that said, if I get stuck in here, don’t you hesitate to pull me out.”

Luke patted his bum leg. “I’ll do my best to get help.”

Mose’s answer was tossing his keys Luke’s way. “You might need these after all.”

And then, with the agility of a teen, he began his descent.

This time, it was Luke who was the one who closed his eyes and prayed.

Chapter 21

“I never thought Perry and Lydia made all that great of a couple. No one in our circle of friends did.”

W
ALKER
A
NDERSON

S
till holding her hands, still feeling her soft breath against his skin, Walker spoke. “I need to get back to work. We’ve been out here way too long.”

When Lydia half flinched, he knew he’d made a major mistake. She might have been Amish, but she acted like any other girl he knew. He had to be careful of his words in case they were taken the wrong way.

As they headed back to the store, she lagged behind him. As they continued, he bit his lip and wished he could do over the last twenty minutes. If he could, he wouldn’t have taken her into the woods in front of half the town. He sure wouldn’t have kissed her.

And if he had kissed her, well, the first thing he would have said afterward wouldn’t have been that he had to get back to work.

Once they were out from the privacy of the wooded trail and the store was back in sight, Lydia quickened her step and returned to his side.

And that was when he realized she wasn’t asking questions about when they were going to see each other again. She wasn’t like some girls, girls so eager to push him into a relationship he wasn’t ready for.

Which, perversely, made him want to start talking about anything besides that kiss. Clearing his throat, he said, “What’s new with you and your parents? Are they still wanting you to forget that you’re adopted?”

“I think so. But, they have told me the name of the home, and let me look up the contact information. I’m ready for some answers.”

“What do you think you’ll find out?”

She shrugged. “I’ve already discovered that everyone involved at the Sweet Angels Home signs forms granting something called an ‘open adoption’. I found that information in their ad in the phone book.”

“What’s open adoption?”

“From what I can figure out, it means that everybody can keep in touch if they want. So, you know, there wouldn’t be any secrets.” She rolled her eyes. “I guess they wanted to be the only ones keeping secrets.”

“When are you going to call the agency?”

“When I get up the nerve.”

“Well, when you get up the nerve, and if you do set up a meeting, I’d like to take you.”

“Why?”

“Why not? I mean, unless you have plans to go with anyone else?”

“I don’t have plans with anyone else.”

“I have my truck, so it would be easy for you just to go with me. And I’d be fine sitting in on it, or waiting for you.”

Looking as startled as a frightened doe, she looked closely at him. “Really? You’d do that?”

He shrugged. “We’re . . . friends, right?”

“Oh yes. Right.”

By this time, they were standing in the front of the store. Walker could hear Mr. Schrock’s voice carrying through the partly open door. “When do you want to go?”

“Can you stop by my house sometime tomorrow? I’ll try to work up the nerve to call this afternoon.”

He smiled, glad she was going to let herself move forward instead of being frozen with worry. “I can do that.”

“And Walker?”

“Yeah?”

“I just want you to know . . . you’re not the first boy I’ve kissed.”

“I figured that.”

Her voice turned sassy. “So I don’t want you to think I’m going to get all dreamy-eyed around you and start thinking that the two of us are something we aren’t.”

“Good. Because, you know, I’m not looking for a girlfriend.”

“I’m not looking for a boyfriend. Not at all.”

“Glad to hear it.” Of course, if he was so glad, why was he feeling more than a little jealous? She bit her lip, his eyes followed. “I’m going now. Bye.”

He raised a hand and walked to the door. Made sure he didn’t look back at her.

And swallowed hard before he greeted Mr. Schrock and whatever else was waiting for him.

A
n hour before, her father had lit a fire; the room was so cozy now, and one by one, all of the Plank siblings settled in the room. Reuben was reading a farm journal, Lydia playing Trouble with Becky and Petey. Her mother was mending yet another pair of Petey’s pants, and her father had a book open.

Lydia knew there was going to be no better time to do what she had to do.

“Hey,” she said. “I have some news.”

Reuben looked up. “Some new boy is gonna come calling?”

“Ha, ha.” Nervously, she tried to imagine an easy, casual way to give her announcement. But of course there wasn’t a way to tell this easily. “I know some of you have heard things . . .” She glared at Becky. “But I thought it was time to have it all out in the open.”

The room had gone so silent, it seemed as if the shock had pulled out all of the air from the room. Petey frowned. “What are you talkin’ about, Lydia?”

She looked at her parents for help, but only saw heartbreak on her mother’s face and displeasure on her father’s. “Mamm and Daed told me that they adopted me from a children’s home in Paducah. And tomorrow, I’m going to visit it to see if I can learn about who my birth parents are.”

“What’s a children’s home?” Petey asked.

“A place for children whose parents don’t want them,” Reuben stated.

As mother closed her eyes, her father glowered. “Reuben, that ain’t so, sometimes something happens to a parent and they aren’t able to take care of their children. They get sick or die.”

Becky’s eyes widened. Looked scared. “Why were you there? And how did Mamm and Daed know to come get you?”

Reuben folded the paper and raised his voice. “And how come we never heard about it?”

Lydia felt a small bit of satisfaction hearing the same questions out of her siblings’ mouths that she’d thought a dozen times, especially since Becky and Reuben were keeping their mouths shut about overhearing the earlier conversation.

But as she glanced toward her parents, she saw anger in their eyes. Her mom’s eyes were filled with tears as she looked out the window.

Her father stood up and pointed to the doorway. “You all may leave now. We will discuss this later.”

“Daed, we might as well talk about this now,” Reuben said. “It’s not like it doesn’t affect us.”

“Reuben, you go out. And take your brother and sister with you.”

Just as Lydia got to her feet, too, her father pressed his hand on her shoulder. “You may stay here, Lydia.”

She stood fuming. Even though it had been uncomfortable, her parents should have allowed her to talk to her siblings about this. Out in the open.

When the room was cleared, her father spoke. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

“I had no choice. We’re talking about my life. I don’t want who I am to be some closely guarded secret. Not anymore.”

“You are breaking my heart, Lydia,” her mother said through a wash of tears. “Never in my wildest dreams did I ever imagine you would react this way when your father and I told you the news. I can’t believe you told them all that you are going to visit that place.”

“Mamm, you told me I could contact the adoption home.”

“But I never thought you really would!”

Lydia glanced her father’s way.

His eyes were solemn when they met her gaze. “This search you’ve begun . . . you canna stop it?”

“I didn’t say that. But I think I need to do it.” It was so much easier to stay focused on her father instead of her mother’s tears. “I’m not going down this path just to make you upset.”

“We still are, however.”

“I still love you both. You know that.”

“I know that, daughter. Of course I know that,” he said softly.

“If you love us so much, why do you need to know who birthed you?” her mother asked from behind a curtain of tissues. “Why does it make a difference?”

“Because these people are part of who I am.”

“
Nee.
You are Lydia Plank. You are our child. That is all you need to know.”

“Maybe when I
was
a child,” she agreed. “But I am no longer a child. I’m a grown woman, and I deserve to know why I was given up for adoption. I need to know who these people were. Only when I know what really happened will I be able to know what to do next.”

“I don’t want you to leave us.”

Incredulous, Lydia said, “Mamm, you don’t truly think I’m going to go find my birth mother and suddenly want to be with her instead of you?”

A flash of guilt formed in her mother’s eyes before she blinked. “I don’t know what you’re going to do.”

All the self-pity she’d been clutching evaporated. In her parents’ faces, she saw raw vulnerability. Truth was, Lydia was a little nervous, too. She didn’t know what she was about to discover, or how she would deal with things when she did.

But more than all the doubts that warred inside her was the complete sense that God was on her side. Only He could have given her parents the strength to tell her the truth—and He had been with them
and
her birth parents all those years ago.

She felt sure that He had brought Walker into her life at just at this moment, too. Otherwise, it all seemed too farfetched that an English boy who she’d known only in the slightest of ways would suddenly become so very important to her at this moment in her life.

And though she’d always sought to listen to her parents and take their advice, at the moment He was whispering in her ear, telling her that this was the time to do what she needed to do.

“Mamm, Daed, tomorrow, I’m going to go to the adoption agency and maybe even to the courthouse—wherever I need to go in order to discover the truth about my past. Walker said he’d come with me.”

“Why do you need that English boy to go?” her mother asked, her tone accusing.

“We’re friends. I’ve told you that.”

“Accompanying you to the adoption agency sounds like he’s more than that.”

Here was her chance. “I think God is behind all of this, Mamm. I think He must have felt the time was right for us all to discover some truths. With His help, that detective will soon learn who killed Perry. And I’ll know more about my past.”

“And what about that
boo—
? That boy?” her father asked. His tone seemed to convey everything he thought—basically that she was being foolish, and that the person she was spending time with was foolish, too.

“He’s not a boy, Daed. He’s a man, and he’s making his own decisions, with God’s help, just as I am.” Recalling their kiss, but even more than that, recalling the complete sense of peace she’d felt in his company, she smiled slightly. “I like him.”

Her parents exchanged glances. “Like him, how?”

For a moment, she was tempted to gloss over her feelings. To evade their piercing looks and searching expressions. But she was done acting like a child. “I like him as I’ve never liked another man. I think I might even be falling in love with him,” she added, somehow managing to surprise both her parents and herself with that one remark.

Her mother opened her mouth, closed it quickly, then looked like she was fighting her own struggles to valiantly keep more sharp retorts to herself.

Her father watched his wife attempt to stifle her tongue and chuckled. “Lydia, dear, you are mighty wise. If I ever had any doubts as to if our Lord kept his sights on us, that he was working by our side to guide us, what just happened has surely made all my misgivings disappear. Only God would be able to stifle your mother’s tongue at a moment like this.”

Lydia felt her eyes prick with tears. Here she’d defied their wishes about keeping her adoption and her birth mother a secret from the rest of the kids, about Walker, and even about visiting the adoption agency. But instead of pushing her away, her father was making jokes. Suddenly hopeful, she looked to her mom.

Who, after sending a look of irritation her husband’s way, sighed. “
Jah.
God is
gut.
And as for your feelings for this Walker . . .”

“Yes?”

Her mother shrugged. “Well, I suppose it is out of my hands.”

“I didn’t mean to do any of this . . .”

Her mother glanced upward to the sky. “But someone else did,
jah
?” Opening her arms, she motioned Lydia forward. “I know you’re a woman and all, and that I didn’t actually bring you into this world . . . But do you still have a hug for me?”

“Always,” she said, hugging her mother tight. “Of that, you should never doubt. I love you, Mamm. I love both of you.”

“I don’t want to lose you, Lydia,” she whispered.

“You haven’t lost me, Mamm. I promise you that.” And with that promise, some of the tension that had surrounded the three of them dissipated.

After kissing her cheek, her father turned to the window. “Ah, it looks like Walker is here. You’d best go see him.”

“Okay.”

“Lydia?”

She paused. “Yes, Mamm?”

“Ask Walker if he’d like some oatmeal cookies, if you’d like. I made them fresh this morning.”

Her mother’s peace offering made the tears that she’d been holding back break through. With tears running down her face, she felt pure relief—mixed with pure happiness as she caught sight of Walker again. It hit her hard. “I’ll do that. I’ll ask him about the cookies right now.”

She scampered out of the room, through the front door, and down the steps. “Walker?”

He stopped. Smiled at her brightly. “Hey, Lydia.”

“Would you . . . would you like some cookies? My
mamm
made them fresh today.”

He stilled, looked at her, looked beyond her to where he, and Lydia, realized her parents stood, watching. And then he nodded—just as much for her as for them. “Cookies sound great. Thank you, Mrs. Plank.”

“You . . . you are most welcome, Walker,” her mother replied graciously.

Glancing toward her father, he caught her eye and winked.

Suddenly, everything in her world felt just right. Maybe even better than that.