Upon A Winter's Night (27 page)

But no way did she want to go home alone now to secure those doors with their new locks. For all she knew their keys might have been taken by now. Without another word, she hugged her father good-night and went back by the camel pen to wait for Josh. The barn had gone silent again but for the creak of its old wooden bones in the wind. She couldn’t even hear Josh until he suddenly appeared.

“Nothing I can find, even in the lofts,” he whispered as he came back with the pitchfork and lantern.

“You were right,” she said. “
Daad
didn’t lock the house when he went out in such a rush. So far, we haven’t told him about our intruder. But after all he’s been through tonight, maybe he’s ready to hear some things he’d rather not—just like I am.”

“Your burning question?”

“
Ya,
I’ll try again. Josh, it has to be something...well, something bad to make them keep the truth about my birth parents from me. Each time I get ready to demand he tell me, I think the Lord is giving me signs to wait longer, but all this can’t wait.
Ya,
I need to ask him or Bess about the truth.”

“Bess? Oh, you mean she’s lived around here long enough that she might remember something about your birth parents? And being
Englische
instead of Amish, she’s more likely to tell you than your parents or Bishop Esh would.”

Lydia agonized whether to confide in him about the huge collection of snow globes, about the letter she’d found to Sweetheart Sol from his Bessie. But she’d seen too many secrets, and she trusted Josh. In a quiet voice, she blurted out everything except
Daad
’s
 
suspicions about Gid’s embezzlement.

“Bessie?” Josh said when she told him what the letter said. “I don’t know if Congresswoman Stark was ever called that, but that was my mother’s nickname among family and friends instead of Bethany. So there’s a coincidence for you. My father always called her Bessie. Lydia,” he said, taking a deep breath before plunging on, “they were close friends years ago.”

He’d spoken so matter-of-factly. A coincidence, he’d said, though Lydia’s stomach did a cartwheel. Another Bessie! And one in
Daad
’s early life. As much as Lydia had feared the wild possibility that her real mother was Bess Stark, it would be even more of a disaster if it was Bessie Yoder, now deceased, because then Josh would be her half brother.

* * *

Lydia was grateful when Josh buggied them home at dawn. They had whispered for hours, then had finally fallen asleep, leaning together on hay bales near the front door. Before exhaustion claimed them, he’d tried to keep Lydia from thinking a massive collection of snow globes was enough to prove maternity, but he’d even more strongly assured her that his mother and Sol had been no more than friends. Yet so many things had shocked her now that it seemed no nightmare was impossible.

To her relief, nothing was painted on their house or barn, and inside the house things seemed to be as they had left them in their haste to chase
Mamm
outside.
Daad
got
Mamm
to bed and sat with her while Lydia fixed them tea, then made a quick tour of the house to be sure all was well. Nothing strange in the pantry or refrigerator, she noted, except both ice cube trays in the freezer section were empty. The way
Mamm
had been today, she’d probably forgotten to refill them, though who would want cold drinks today?

Lydia filled the trays and put them back in the refrigerator. As soon as she got out of Josh’s clothes, she was going out to the phone shanty way down the road because she wasn’t ready to let the Starks know
Mamm
had run outside just as Victoria had. She had to call their family doctor for a recommendation for someone to treat
Mamm’
s
 
problems.

But when she went up to change and opened the underwear drawer of the cherry chest in her room, she found that her panties and stockings had been moved around. But then she saw that wasn’t the worst. Her undergarments were all wet, soaked with cold water—melted ice cubes?—and a note crudely printed in red ink read U R NEXT.

27

T
hough she was exhausted, Lydia walked into the sheriff’s office at 9:00 a.m. that morning. She had the threatening note in a plastic zipper bag and intended to tell him about the new sign on Josh’s back barn door. She’d gotten
Mamm
a late-afternoon appointment to see her doctor today, but Lydia vowed she was also going to drop in at the store and stop to see Bess Stark.

And tonight, no matter what happened, she was going to talk to her father about her past. Whatever threats she and Josh faced, they needed a new beginning, and she was determined to have that. If, she thought with a shudder as she looked at the bloodred ink through the plastic sack, her father had not loved Josh’s mother at one time. And if she—Lydia—was not NEXT.

“Come on in, Lydia,” the sheriff said after his receptionist went back to his office to tell him she was here. “I can see by your face something else happened. Everyone all right?”

“Not really,” she told him, trying to stem the urge to cry. She’d never had time for that cry yesterday. But she only sniffed once as she sat in the chair Sheriff Freeman indicated. She blurted out about her mother’s near drowning last night and the new message on Josh’s door. She blushed when she told him about melted ice cubes in her underwear drawer, then handed him the note.

“Ice cubes in the drawer, hmm? Makes me think your intruder was watching the near tragedy in the icy pond. He’s either saying to you, ‘I’ve been watching you’ or, once again, like this note, ‘You’re next—in the pond.’ Or worse, since we have two dead women.”

“I’ve been so exhausted I didn’t think of that—that he’d been watching my mother nearly drown.” She shuddered, but she had to pull herself together. “Oh, I almost forgot,” she added as she watched the sheriff frown over the note. “Josh says you can take pictures of the latest paint job and he wishes you could do a stakeout. I wish you could keep an eye on our house, too.”

“I just may have to do that, at least at Josh’s, since he’s alone there and you’ve got your folks back. I used to have 4-H animals when I was a kid, showed them at the state fair, slept with them all night in the sheep barn, no less. Yeah, I just might have to help Josh tend his herd for the night, even though I’d have to make a showing at a party for local businessmen the Starks are giving at our restaurant.”

“Oh. Tonight? What time is that?” she asked, hoping she could get to Bess before then.

“Eight. Bess didn’t want to make Ray-Lynn close the place early on her regular customers. You’ve done good to bring me this information and this note, Lydia. I’m working on all angles, including someone switching your father’s pills. Anything else I can help you with?”

She sighed and thought how nice it would be to have him inform Gid, Bess, Connor, even
Daad,
that he would interrogate them if they didn’t tell her the truth.

“Gid Reich,” the sheriff would say as he took him into custody, “have you been embezzling from the store? And have you been trying to scare Lydia away from Josh with those messages on the barn and in her house? Maybe you’ve been backing off from her in public because in secret you’ve been stalking and frightening her, hoping she’d run to you. Or, worse, are you trying to get rid of her father so you can take over the store as well as her life?

“And, Mr. Mayor,” the sheriff would say to Connor when he arrested him for painting Christmas trees and Josh’s barn, “I’m hauling you in for questioning, too. I hear you’ve been mean to Lydia, your neighbor, for years.

“And, Congresswoman Stark,” he would say, holding up both hands when Bess rushed in to rescue Connor so his arrest wouldn’t hurt her career, “did you once keep secret company with Sol Brand? Did you have his baby and give her away?

“And, Sol, I know you’re recovering from a heart attack, but I need to ask this, anyway. You’ve been a loving adoptive father to Lydia, but are you her real father, too? She needs to know. And, Sol, is your marriage bad because your wife lost your son or because she can’t love Lydia—or you because you were unfaithful?”

“Lydia, you listening?” the sheriff asked, leaning closer and tapping her arm. She jerked her head. Had she nodded off? “You’re exhausted. You almost fell asleep sitting here. Can’t you go on home, get some rest?”

“I’ll sleep tonight, Sheriff. Things to do, but I thank you and Ray-Lynn for all your help. As my father used to say when I saw he was exhausted and I begged him to get some sleep, ‘Someday, Liddy, I’ll sleep forever.’”

They both stood. “Then you have a good, safe day,” he said, and patted her shoulder. “And be extra careful.”

She had to, Lydia thought as she went out. There was nowhere to go but up...was there?

* * *

“So, Lydia,” Gid greeted her outside her office at the store, “you may think you can’t live with me, but can you live without me? I mean running the store for you and Sol while you have other serious concerns. How’s he doing?”

“Better,” she told him, not breaking stride or going into her office where he could corner her. She headed toward Naomi at the front desk. Lydia hoped she was having a good day, at least.

“Can I stop in to see him, then?” Gid asked, matching her strides. “You probably can’t brief him about things in depth, since you haven’t been here much.”

She knew it would look suspicious if she kept avoiding this man. If he was the one behind the paint jobs and house intrusions, she couldn’t give him a clue she was on to him. Just before they reached the front desk—Naomi was busy with customers, anyway—Lydia stopped, turned to Gid and forced a weak smile.

“I’ve just been so worried about
Daad.
We are all grateful for the job you do here for us.”

“Which I am honored to do. Lydia, you look really tired. Circles under swollen eyelids on your pretty face. You aren’t helping your mother sit up with him at night, are you? Is there anything I can do to help there as well as here?”

“No.
Danki.
You’ve done enough,” she managed before she went up to Naomi’s desk to chat. Perhaps Gid
had
done enough—even too much.

When Lydia hurried home to go with her parents to
Mamm
’s
 
doctor’s appointment, she found a note from
Daad
on the kitchen table.

Liddy—Our driver came early to tell us he’d been called that the dr.’s appt. had been moved up. Do not worry that you wanted to go with us. Mamm’s exhausted and sore today and has the chills, is coughing and doesn’t remember much about last night. I told her you and Josh saved her. I’m hoping this dr. will recommend mental dr. Get this—your mother says you should visit Josh and thank him again.

Love and blessings,

Daad.

It was a bit of a victory about
Mamm
and Josh, but Lydia, once again, regretted people not telling everything. If
Daad
had known about someone being in the house—twice—he would never have assumed she should stay here alone. And
Mamm
had probably been too out of it to object. So Lydia’s own secrets had put her at possible risk of danger. And had
Daad
’s
 
secrets about her parents put his Liddy in real danger somehow? She did not want to be “next” about anything but getting answers and a normal life.

She decided to do the unexpected. She would not stay here alone but would go back to the store after closing time and search Gid’s office. If he was the one lurking outside her home, she wouldn’t be anywhere around when he showed up after dark.

* * *

When Lydia entered the store through the back door with her master key, it seemed an alien place. She had put Flower, still hitched to the buggy, in the shelter of the big horse shed. At least there was a sliver of moon tonight, because no way were there interior or exterior lights in an Amish establishment. But she had planned ahead and brought two flashlights with her.

Yet, even inside, everything familiar seemed so strange. The back door closed behind her with a hollow thud. The cleaning couple weren’t here yet, and she planned to be out when they arrived. The silence of the usually busy, noisy workroom stunned her. Her pulse picked up as she swept a flashlight beam on the sawdust-sprinkled floor and headed toward the door to the short hall with the offices.

She was surprised she had to use her key again, but that was best. She hadn’t realized this area was locked at night. On second thought, so she wouldn’t have to open this door again, she wedged a small block of wood there to keep it ajar.

She wondered what the vast alleys of furniture inside the showroom would look like after dark. However well she knew the layout, would she get lost? But she would not go into that big room tonight.

She went to Gid’s office, as he must have gone to
Daad
’s more than once recently. She hesitated at his office door, but it wasn’t really fear she felt, just anticipation. Yet she was going to be risking everything tonight—doing this, stopping to see Bess then talking to
Daad
however late he got home. No more just being curious or afraid. She was getting answers.

She used the master key again and went into Gid’s lair, closing the door. A sweep of both beams around the room caught nothing out of place. His desktop looked tidy. But, oh, so many files, just like in
Daad
’s
 
office. She’d never have the time to go through those if he’d hidden something the way her father had. Maybe this was a desperate, too-crazy idea.

She turned off one flashlight, put it down on the desk and, opening his central desk drawer, swept the other beam inside. Everything in its place. After all, Gid was a by-the-rules bookkeeper and controller. Her flashlight illumined only paper clips, pencils, pens. And—oh!—red pens. She’d heard that accountants talked in terms of black-and-red ink. She had no doubt Gid could have written that note she’d found this morning in her drawer.

She jumped when she heard a distant, muted noise. Had something dropped or toppled over? Had the door she’d wedged open closed? It was on a tension bar. But if it had closed itself, it wouldn’t be with a bang.

She closed Gid’s drawer and tiptoed to the door, putting her ear to it. No other sounds, except the ticktock of the clock on the shelf behind his desk. But then—someone walking in the hall? She clicked off her flashlight.

Maybe Marta and John Kurtz were here early to clean, and she could tell them she’d just come in for something she needed for
Daad.
But she’d have to get out of Gid’s office, or Marta might just blab to him.

She opened the door but still stood inside, barely breathing, listening in the utter blackness. Had someone passed in the hall, or did footsteps echo from the other direction? She heard nothing now. Though Amish to her core, it suddenly seemed the lack of electric lighting was not a blessing, as Bishop Esh had called it in a recent sermon.

From down the hall, someone cast a wan light on the wall, coming this way from the back room. She was about to call out to Marta when someone coughed. A man. Had Marta’s husband come without her tonight?

Instinct told her to dart away, and she did, after closing Gid’s office door quietly behind her. On her tiptoes, she rushed down the hall toward the coffee room, then into the maze of showroom furniture she’d thought could be downright dangerous in the dark.

She crawled under a desk and huddled there. Shifting shadows etched the outline of an Amish man—she could tell by his hat—as he approached and walked past. She dared not stick her head out to look up.
Ya,
Amish trousers stuffed in plain black boots. Had Gid hired a new night watchman, not trusting the Lord to care for this place at night, or could that be John Kurtz, come to clean? Or Gid himself? Had he stopped by and found Flower and her buggy? But he would have called out to her, wouldn’t he?

She wanted to confront the person but she dared not. Especially not since this could be her house intruder. Yet she ached to know who it was, what he was doing here. Without others to help carry things, it would be hard to steal store merchandise, and they never kept money on-site at night. So what business could this person have?

She was going to make a run for it. Then she could see if the doors had been broken into on her way out. If it was a break-in, she’d get the sheriff. If not, she’d go home, get the note from Bessie to Sol in case she needed it then go to confront Bess.

As she crawled out from under the desk and started away, she chanced a look back. The man’s lantern cast his shadow on the far wall, and she could hear him opening and closing drawers, maybe over by the dining room highboys or corner cupboards. But looking for what? Something he’d put there rather than in his office?

On tiptoe again, she hurried from the big, dark room. When she could turn on her flashlight again, she tore down the office hallway to the workshop door. It was closed. She had to fumble for her key. Then, as she turned it in the lock, it hit her: she’d left one of her two flashlights in Gid’s office on his desk. But she dared not go back for it now. If that was Gid in the showroom, he hadn’t gone into his office—yet. Maybe he’d think the cleaning people had left it.

Despite the fact she had to run farther toward the horse shed, she was glad she had not left Flower and her buggy outside to be seen. Because Gid’s horse and handsome buggy were tied to the back hitching post.

* * *

“Okay,” Sheriff Freeman told Josh as he surveyed the barn once again, especially studying the paint on the outside of the camel door, “tell you what. Let’s you and me take turns staying awake here tonight. We can hot bunk—that’s what they call it in the navy and marines. Guys take shifts, sleep in the same bunk when the other one’s not there. And that cot of yours looks a lot better than some of the bunks I had in my days in the service. I’ve got to go into town to help Ray-Lynn—and I’m a guest—at a party Bess Stark’s giving later tonight. But you’ll only be alone about an hour then. How’s that for a fast plan?”

“Suits me,” Josh said. “I’m just hoping when you’re in here without me, the donkeys don’t rile the others up, so you can sleep. And when one of us is on watch outside, let’s go through the woodlot and take a look around the Brands’ house and barn. They’re probably back from seeing the doctor in Wooster by now, but you never know if someone’s hanging around over there.”