Missing with Bonus Material: The Secrets of Crittenden County, Book One (17 page)

“I do, though . . .”

“Please excuse me. I’ve got to go get another room ready.”

“We’re not finished with this conversation.”

“Yes, we are. You might be a paying guest, but you’re still a guest in my home. Don’t forget that.”

“Then I think it’s time I stayed someplace else.”

“Truly?” She turned on her heel, looking so taken aback and disappointed, he almost changed his mind. But now that he realized that she, too, had been one of the last people to see Perry, he needed to maintain some space from her.

He couldn’t pretend her evasiveness was okay. “I’ll get my things and leave within the hour.”

“Where will you go?”

He didn’t know. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll find someplace. Look—I understand that you’re afraid. You’re either afraid of something you’ve done or something you know.”

Her cheeks flushed as her lips parted. After she swallowed, she said, “Will I see you again?”

“Oh, I’ll be seeing you. Don’t worry about that.”

Chapter 23

“Why does anyone do what they do? Only the Lord knows for sure. Besides, it’s better to make new mistakes than to repeat old ones.”

A
ARON
S
CHROCK

A
s they pulled out of the parking lot, the enormity of what had just happened hit her. Lydia felt completely crushed. “This is everything I feared would happen, Walker. I didn’t think it was possible, but I feel even worse than I did before.”

“I know it’s hard to hear, but at least now you know your birth parents obviously cared a lot about you, Lydia. It’s understandable why your dad was worried about raising you by himself.”

“I just hoped that I’d get better news, that’s all.”

“What would have been good news?”

She bit her lip, then spoke. “I don’t know. I guess I wanted to know whether my parents were Amish. I had half-convinced myself that if the papers said ‘Methodist’ or ‘Baptist,’ my decision would be made. I’d known whether I was supposed to be Amish or not.”

He darted a look her way. “You’d consider being English if your birth parents were that way?”

“Yes.”

He chuckled. “Well, I guess you’re stuck living like the rest of us then. You’re going to have to figure things out on your own.”

She frowned. “I thought you understood how I felt.”

“I understand that you were hurt by your parents keeping secrets from you. And, I understand why you want to know more about your past.”

“But you don’t understand my need to know their religion?”

“I do . . . but then I don’t, too. A person’s faith is a personal thing, right? I don’t know if knowing what your birth parents believed would make your decisions right now any easier.”

“Walker, I thought you were on my side.”

“I thought you should find out about your birth parents,” he corrected. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to give you my opinion.”

“I see.”

It was obvious she was irritated with him. Well, he was starting to feel irritated, too. Over the past few weeks, he’d listened to her complain and worry. Today, he’d taken time off school to drive her to the agency and had spent the last few hours trying to be supportive. But instead of being grateful, she was finding something new to be upset about.

“Lydia, I think you should make the choice about being Amish or English on your own.”

“I don’t think there’s much of a decision to make anymore.”

“Why do you say that?”

“If I was born Amish and was raised Amish, then I’m going to need to stay Amish. But if I’m going to not leave the order, then that means that we shouldn’t spend any more time together.”

“Are you saying I was your backup plan?” He didn’t even try to hide his contempt for her reasoning.

“No. I mean, not exactly. It’s just that if I was going to be English, then we might have a chance. But if I’m going to stay Amish, then we don’t.”

Walker gripped the steering wheel hard as her words sunk in. “Wow. I never thought our friendship was going to depend on a piece of paper. You should have warned me. If I’d had known, I would have been more stressed out.”

“You are being deliberately cruel.”

His temper flared. “No, Lydia. That would be you. I had no idea I was only going to be in your life on a trial basis, just in case you had use for me. I thought we were friends no matter what.”

“We are friends.”

“I don’t think so. We were going to be friends—or maybe even something more—if it worked out. If it was easy for you.”

Her blue eyes darkened with unshed tears. “You know that wasn’t what I meant. You know how hard it’s been these past weeks, realizing that Perry hadn’t run off to St. Louis, that he’s been dead in the ground and I didn’t even wonder where he’d been.”

“Everyone’s been thinking that,” he said, exasperated. “Haven’t you realized that?”

“But we were sweethearts.”

“You hadn’t even seen him in weeks, right? I mean besides the night we all saw him at Schrock’s store.”

“I saw him the day after, too. On New Year’s Eve,” she blurted.

He almost pulled over. Then, thankful that he needed to slow down for a stoplight, he gathered his emotions as best he could. “I know what we said about keeping this quiet, but I didn’t know you saw him on your own. Maybe you saw something important. Lydia, you better tell Detective Reynolds.”

“I didn’t ‘see’ anything, Luke.” Her voice sounded near tears. “And if I tell him, he’ll suspect me. I might have been the last person to talk to him.”

“If you didn’t kill him, someone else did.”

“If I didn’t kill him?”
Pain mixed with guilt in her eyes. “After you drop me off, I don’t want to see you again.”

He was so fed up with her—so hurt that their kiss, their walks, their talks hadn’t meant as much to her as they did to him—he gave it right back to her. “Great, because when I drop you off, I hope I never do.”

“Perry only broke my heart when he got mixed up in things he never should have. What’s your excuse?”

Her accusations were too much. “Don’t you ever compare me to him again. Perry was a loser, Lydia.” After hesitating, he said, “Perry was a drug user and a dealer. He lied and cheated and hurt more people than we’ll probably ever know. I am nothing like him.”

Lydia said nothing, though tears slid down her cheeks.

Walker did his best to pretend that he didn’t notice.

It was a lot harder to pretend he didn’t care.

When Walker finally pulled into her driveway, Lydia couldn’t open the door fast enough. However, she paused to do the right thing. “Thank you for taking me to the agency.”

He didn’t even look at her. “I don’t want your thanks.”

“All right, then.” She swallowed hard. “Goodbye, Walker.”

He said nothing, only looked behind him, then reversed. Leaving only a trail of dust in his wake.

As she watched the dust settle, she felt like sinking to the ground as well. In the span of a few hours, she felt like she’d just lost everything important in her life.

The front door opened behind her.

“Daughter, you’re back early.”

For the first time in a while, Lydia turned to her mother’s voice with a true feeling of eagerness. “Yes, Mamm.”

“Look at you! You’re crying.” Her mother sat down on the top step and motioned her close. “Come talk to me. Did you go to the adoption agency?”

“I did.”

“And . . . did you find what you were looking for?”

“I discovered my birth mother gave birth to me even though she’d been advised to never have children. She had a disease. Multiple Sclerosis.”

Her mother pressed a hand to her chest. “I didn’t know that.”

“She died soon after having me, and her husband knew he couldn’t raise me alone.” Lydia braced herself for another wave of pain to hit her hard. But instead of despair, she felt almost at peace.

Although the truth wasn’t what she’d hoped for, at least she knew where she came from. That was something, at least.

“I bet the memories might have been too hard for him to bear,” her mother said after a few moments. “He must have loved his wife very much.”

“I guess he did. He gave me up.”

Her mother’s chin lifted. “Your birth father let the agency find a better place for you. Your father loved you enough to give you to us, to two people who wanted you so much. Lydia, I should have found out the truth years ago and been open with you. It would have been easier on all of us.”

“When you adopted me, you had another baby on the way. I guess it was too late to change you mind?”

Wrapping an arm around her shoulders, she said, “It wasn’t too late. Lydia, we wanted you. Your birth parents’ selfless actions were to our benefit. And for that, I will always be grateful.”

Her mother’s honest words made a lump form in her throat. “I still don’t know if my birth parents were Amish or English,” she blurted. “I just assumed it would say in the file.”

“Ah. And that bothers you?”

The pain made talking difficult.
“Jah.”

“And . . . what did Walker say?”

Her mother’s question caught her off guard. Since when did her mother care about what an
Englischer
boy thought? “I’m afraid we fought on the way home.”

“Why?” she asked quickly. But before Lydia could catch her breath, her mother held up a hand. “Sorry. I mean, would you like to tell me what happened?”

“I told him that I had only intended to see him more if I had been born English. Because then it would make it seem like jumping the fence and being English would be okay.”

Her mother visibly schooled her features. “Ah. So . . . so you’re not going to leave our faith?”

“I guess not,” she said slowly. Realizing even as she spoke that she wasn’t sure how things were going to be resolved.

“Ah.”

“But you still wish you could see Walker?”

She turned toward her mother. Her mother had put into words feelings she didn’t even realize were there.

“Walker will never be Amish, will he?”

“No.” Lydia sighed, looking at her black tennis shoes and suddenly wishing she was barefoot. “He’s never going to be Amish, and I don’t think he’s ever going to understand me or how confused I feel.”

“People change, child. Opinions change too—these past few weeks have taught us that.”

“We told each other goodbye, Mamm.” Remembering the complete feeling of loss she felt, and how the dust from his tires flew up in the air and then settled again, looking for all the world like Walker and his truck had never even been there, Lydia slumped. “And worse, now I’m back where I was. Without a sweetheart.”

“You’re young, dear. It will happen.” She stood up. “I don’t know why I’m saying this, but perhaps it would be a good idea for you to do some thinking about your feelings for this Walker.”

“Why?”

“Maybe there’s more to him than just being an
Englischer
. Maybe there’s more to each of us than just our specific faith. Our God guides all of us, yes? For a little while, I think I had forgotten that.”

She turned and opened the door.

“Mamm?”

“Yes?”

“I need to call the detective and tell him something about Perry.”

Her expression sharpened. “Hasn’t he heard all you know?”

“I’m afraid not. But Mamm, as soon as I tell him, I’m going to go back to work at the greenhouse. I think I should return to my normal routine.”

“Your help will be appreciated, but there is no hurry. You were right to ask for time off.”

Opening up her purse, Lydia found the detective’s card, and holding it in one hand, she left her purse on the steps and walked down the road to the phone shanty.

Suddenly her secrets didn’t seem to matter all that much anymore. She was alone again, with only her memories and regrets for company.

She couldn’t help it if Detective Reynolds thought she was a suspect. Or if he started to think she was a bad person because she’d kept secrets.

All that really mattered now was that she could live with herself every day. If she could do that, it might be enough.

R
eynolds,”
Luke blurted into the phone as he climbed the dark stairs to the attic in Mose’s house. His friend was a pig.

It was night and day from the pretty, lemon-smelling oil and wood of Frannie’s B & B.

“Detective? Detective Reynolds? Is that you?”

Gripping the phone harder, he tried to place the voice. “Is this Lydia Plank?”

“Jah.”
Over the line, her voice sounded thin and wary.

And Luke leaned his head against the wall, frustrated with himself.

“It’s me. Hey, I’m sorry I answered like I did. I had something on my mind.”

“I hope it wasn’t anything too terrible.”

As he located the light switch, he grimaced at his bare surroundings. Things definitely looked better in the dark. “It’s nothing at all. Now what can I help you with?” he asked as he walked toward the child’s sized desk and chair in the corner of the room.

“I need to talk to you about Perry again, if you have time.”

Luke gripped the pencil he’d just picked up. There was a hint of steel in Lydia Plank’s voice. It sounded harsh and determined. New.

Maybe this was just the information that he’d been waiting for. “Can we do it over the phone?” He pulled open his notebook and scratched out today’s date and time. He was tired of waiting. Tired of talking and talking. Just once he’d like one of the residents of Crittenden County to give him news in a straightforward way.

“Uh, I’d rather not. What I have to tell you is private. I’d rather not discuss it from a phone booth on the street.”

“I completely understand.” He straightened. “Where and when do you want to meet?”

“Can you come to my house this evening? We can talk there. Whenever you have time.”

He looked at his watch and mentally calculated how long it would take him to finish moving in, shower off the dust and grime, grab something to eat, then get to her place. “One hour? Can I see you in one hour?”

A sigh of relief met his offer. “I’ll be waiting. Thank you.”

She hung up, leaving Luke to wonder if he was finally getting the break he’d been hoping for. If so, that meant he might only have to spend one night in Mose’s dirty attic.

At the most, two nights.

Looking around at the old toys in sacks, at the old furniture that all looked broken or too unstable to use, he smiled.

He could solve the case and move back to his apartment and take full advantage of his air-conditioning. And his shower.

Yep, in no time, he could be back where he belonged. Where he needed to belong.

He was so happy about that, he decided to not even bother unpacking. He’d take wrinkles over dust and bugs any day.