WHERE THERE’S A WILL
Short Creek Mysteries, Book Two
By
Amy Rognlie
Where There’s a Will
Published by Mountain Brook Ink
White Salmon, WA U.S.A.
All rights reserved. Except for brief excerpts for review purposes, no part of this book may be used in any form without written permission from the publisher.
The website addresses recommended throughout this book are offered as a resource. These websites are not intended in any way to be or imply an endorsement on the part of Mountain Brook Ink, nor do we vouch for their content.
This story is a work of fiction. All characters and events are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to any person, living or dead, is coincidental.
Hopkins, Gerard Manley. The Wreck of the Deutschland. Public domain.
Martyn, Henry. Selections from the Journal and Letters of Henry Martyn, excerpted in Listening to the Saints, copyright 1962 by The Upper Room, Nashville.
All scripture quotations taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version®, NIV® Copyright ©1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.® Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide.
ISBN 978-1943959-33-4
© 2018 Amy Rognlie
The Team: Miralee Ferrell, Nikki Wright, Cindy Jackson
Cover Design: Cover design by Ken Raney
Mountain Brook Ink is an inspirational publisher offering fiction you can believe in.
Printed in the U.S.A. 2018
Contents
Quote
Dedication
Acknowledgements
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Author Note
Discussion Questions
Sneak Peek at Book Three
“Many are the plans in a person’s heart, but it is the Lord’s purpose that prevails.”
Proverbs 19:21
Dedication
This book is dedicated to my mom, Jan Spano.
I thank God for choosing me to be your daughter.
“Thank you” is not sufficient for walking beside me
through a lifetime of love, prayers, sorrow, joy, and change.
I love you.
Acknowledgments
Thank you to Vicki Burtchell, Autumn McMurry, Jan Spano, and Danny Rognlie for your invaluable input and encouragement.
Thank you to Lora Doncea for coming to my rescue at a very difficult time. I’m so grateful.
Thank you to Miralee Ferrell and the MBI staff for their compassion and grace.
Thank you to my Father God, for Your never-ending faithfulness to me.
Chapter One
Two things happened at once. My phone rang, and every nerve in my body snapped to attention like weary soldiers who knew the drill.
Middle-of-the-night calls are never good. “Auntie. What’s wrong?”
“It’s Erma, darlin’. I’ve been praying for her all night, and now she’s not answering her phone. I know it’s early, but I need you to check on her.” The tone of Aunt Dot’s voice brooked no argument.
I flopped back down on my pillow and blew out a long breath. Erma, my aunt’s friend, needed help. Not my aunt. I glanced at the time. Five-thirty. Okay, so it wasn’t exactly the middle of the night. But it was still dark, for crying out loud. “I didn’t know she was sick.” In fact, I had sat across from Sister Erma in Sunday school a couple of days ago. She was eighty-three years old—fifty some years older than me—and could run circles around me. “Don’t you think I should wait until at least eight?”
“I don’t think she’s ill, exactly. But I have this urgency in my spirit that something’s not right. I haven’t slept a bit all night. And you know all about that.”
Yes, yes, I did. My Aunt Dot was a hero of the faith, as far as I was concerned. I would probably never know the hours she had spent praying for me over the years. If she said the Lord told her something, who was I to argue? Even if it was my day off.
“Okay.” I pushed myself upright with effort. Starting my morning with a jolt of adrenaline before the birds were even awake wasn’t my idea of a pleasant morning. Mornings were not my thing. But Aunt Dot wasn’t a worrywart, so if she was concerned, I’d better take it seriously. “I’ll head over there in a sec.”
“Thank you. I wish I could still drive. I’d just pop on over there myself.”
“No worries. I’ll call you once I see her, okay?”
Annie, Todd’s German shepherd, padded into the room and nudged my hand as I said goodbye to my aunt.
“Good morning to you too,” I rubbed the dog’s head. Annie belonged to my boyfriend, but she was staying with me for a few days while he was in Dallas. “Did you hear me up a little earlier than usual? I have to run an errand for Auntie.”
She pricked her ears up at the name and looked toward the door as if she expected Aunt Dot to materialize any second. She and my Aunt Dot were mutual fans.
I brushed my teeth, threw on sweats, and grabbed my purse. I felt a little awkward about showing up at Sister Erma’s house at the crack of dawn, but she and my Aunt Dot were more than friends. They had grown up together and had lived life together in this same little town for their entire lives. If Aunt Dot said Sister Erma needed me, I’d be there.
I’d at least take her a few of the cranberry-orange muffins I’d baked last night. I arranged a half-dozen on my favorite antique plate and headed out the door. Annie stared at me. “You have to stay here this time, Annie-dog.”
After all, Sister Erma lived only a few blocks away on Ivy Street. I could have walked, of course, but it was still dark, and February in Central Texas can be cold. I closed the door behind me, juggling the plate of muffins as I unlocked my car. I drove the short distance to Sister Erma’s in the faint glow of dawn and pulled up in her driveway, staring. No worries about saving electricity here. Every light in the house was blazing. For the first time, I experienced a twinge of apprehension. What if I was walking into some kind of emergency?
I guess I didn’t have to worry about waking her, at least. I stuffed my phone in the pocket of my hoodie and grabbed the plate of muffins, leaving my purse in the car. I rang the doorbell. No answer. I could see into Sister Erma’s kitchen and living room through her front window. Nothing seemed amiss.
I knocked loudly, but still no Sister Erma. I fidgeted. Should I try the door? If something really was wrong...I heard thumps coming from somewhere. Loud, rhythmic thumps. My armpits prickled, my breath shortened. Thump, thump.
Now I wished I had brought Annie. I set the muffins down and edged off Sister Erma’s porch and peered up her driveway. Her Buick was parked in the carport, and light from behind the house pooled on the driveway. The noises emanated from that direction.
Thump, thump. Thump, thump
, thump. Thump. Thump.
I pulled out my phone, my hands shaking. Should I call 911?
Not yet.
I sidled over to the dark shadows at the side of the house. I would work my way up the driveway a little way and see if I could tell what was happening.
Thump, thump. Thump, thump, thump.
The sun peeked over the horizon. I edged closer to the clump of azaleas near the back of the house. Thump, thump.
I didn’t hear anyone screaming or anything. In fact, I almost thought I heard…panting.
I parted the bushes, my legs shaking. What was I thinking? If someone was murdering Sister Erma, I sure wasn’t keen on being a witness. On the other hand, if I could help in some way—
Thump, thump.
Okay, Lord. Here goes. I poked my head around the corner.
Thump, thump. Thump, thump, thumpity thump.
I closed my eyes and sagged against the wall.
Not only was Sister Erma not being murdered, she was whaling away on her stair-stepper with such vigor that the thing was pounding rhythmically against the wooden deck like…like my delivery van when I drove too fast over the speed bumps on Fourth Street.
I blew out a breath. My knees were still jelly, and my breathing was erratic. I took a moment to regroup. How did such a tiny little lady even have the strength to push the steps so hard? Maybe I could slink away, back home to my cozy bed—
My ring tone for Todd started blaring out “Holy, holy, holy is the Lord God Almighty, who was and is and is to come…”
I guess I was still shaky, standing there in the shrubbery, because the dumb thing played almost the whole chorus before I could silence it.
The thumps ceased.
I might as well fess up. I brushed past the bushes wearing as big a grin as I could muster. “Good morning, Sister Erma,” I said, as if I always appeared in her back yard at the crack of dawn.
“Law, Callie.” She blinked at me, still panting. “When I heard that singin’ a minute ago, I jest said to myself, ‘Erma, this is it. Hallelujah, thank you, Jesus.’ I thought my time’d come to go on Home.” She looked distinctly disappointed.
“Nope. Guess not. Just me coming to check up on you.” I looped my hair over my ear. “I’m sorry I interrupted your workout.”
“Thought maybe the Good Lord done sent an angel to escort me on.” She seemed puzzled. “He been talkin’ to me ‘bout it some lately, you know?”
I didn’t know. But I nodded. “Aunt Dot sent me over to check on you. She said she was up all night praying.”
Sister Erma swiped the sweat off her face with a dishtowel. “Was she now? I reckon the Lord’s done told her too.”
I wasn’t sure what to say. “Anyway, it looks like you’re fine today. I brought you a plate of muffins.”
“Why, that’s right sweet of you. Guess I’ll have one after I finish them cookies they brought by last night.”
“Okay, then. Is there anything I can do for you before I head home?” I was itching to call Todd back. And to pick the twigs out of my hair.
She beamed at me. “No, ma’am. Sharlene’s comin’ by later, and we’re gonna work on clearing out those closets upstairs.”
“I’ll leave the muffins on the front porch. Is that okay?”
“That’ll be fine, sugar. You’re a sweet one, all right. Dorrie’s blessed to have you. She shore was proud when you done moved here and started up that lil’ ol’ store of yours.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I said. “I’m so grateful I’ve been able to live near her these last couple of years. I’ll tell her you’re fine. She was worried when you didn’t answer your phone.”
She wiped her glasses on her T-shirt. “I’ll ask Sharlene to take a look at it. Silly thing’s been dead for a day or two.”
I loved how she drew the word “dead” out into two syllables: “day-ed.”
What I didn’t love was the call I received a day later, alerting me that Sister Erma herself was day-ed.
It was a normal Tuesday morning in February. I opened the blinds in my small den, then knelt in front of my chair. Since moving to Texas and into this house that held so many memories for me, this spot had become my favorite place to pray. Every morning, my gaze fell on the cross-stitched saying that my Uncle Garth had loved and lived by: “Only one life, ’twill soon be past. Only what’s done for Christ will last.”
I added my praises and petitions now to the many thousands that had been offered from this very same room over the years and sighed as I felt His presence surround me. I opened my journal and began to write.
Much later, I raised my eyes to the window, watching a faint glow where the sun should have been. The sky was heavy with clouds. We were in for a storm today, for sure.
The branches of the pecan tree swayed, and I spotted a brown, spiky little lizard clinging to the bark of the trunk. Stubby. I snickered at the name Todd had given the little creature. I still couldn’t believe that Todd and I had been dating for almost six months. Ever since all that crazy stuff with Houston Gregory and the sheriff, Todd and I had been inseparable. And things had finally calmed down. I liked calm. Annie snuffled at my door. I smiled, happy to have her for a few days while Todd was out of town. I pushed myself up off the floor and opened the door. Annie nudged my hand, then led the way down the hallway to the kitchen, checking over her shoulder to make sure I was following.
“I need to grab my phone,” I said, detouring into my bedroom. “I’ll be there in a minute.” I picked my phone up off my nightstand and frowned at it. How did I have a missed call from my friend Karen? She never called this early in the morning. A little younger than me, she already had two sets of twins and was always busy.
I called Karen, my heart beating a little faster. I prayed that nothing had happened to Justin or the twins. Or to Sister Erma. Sister Erma was Karen’s grandmother. “Karen? Is everything okay?”
Karen drew a ragged breath. “Grandma called me a few minutes ago. But she didn’t say anything. I’m so scared, Callie!”
“Oh, no. Did you call 911?”
“Yes, they’re on their way over. I’m on my way too. Could you come?”
“I’ll be there as soon as I can.” It wasn’t raining yet, and it would probably be faster to jog over there than to drive. I grabbed my shoes. “Let’s go for a walk, Annie.”
She jumped up and beat me to the door. I didn’t bother to put her leash on. Todd had trained her well, and I knew she would obey me. She pranced and whined while I took a second to wind my long, mud-brown hair into a messy bun. I had never been partial to my hair color, but it is what it is. I stuck a knitting needle through it. That would hold it until we got home. I shoved my phone into my hoodie pocket. “All right, I’m ready.”
She burst out the door, then flopped down on the front lawn for her morning roll in the dew.
“Come on, Annie-girl. You can do that later.”
Thunder rumbled as we hurried down our street, and I glanced at the sky. Even after living in Texas for a couple of years, I still wasn’t used to thunderstorms in the morning. In Ohio, where I had grown up and lived most of my adult life, thunderstorms usually occurred in the afternoon or evening. Or during the night. Down here, they came whenever. And often.
The first few raindrops splashed onto my glasses as we turned the corner onto Sister Erma’s street. I sucked in my breath. “Oh, no.”
An ambulance idled in front of Sister Erma’s house, and Karen stood on the driveway, alone. She hugged herself, rubbing her hands up and down her arms. Annie and I reached the driveway right as our minister, Pastor Brian, pulled up, looking like he’d made a mad dash over from the gym.
Karen shook her head in answer to our unasked question, pushing her dark hair over her shoulder with a shaking hand. Tears stood in her brown eyes. “She’s gone home to be with Jesus.”
What? I froze, stunned. Just yesterday Sister Erma was thumping away on her stair-stepper. The shock zapped my nerves again and my legs started shaking.
I guess I should have kind of expected it, since Sister Erma had more or less told me straight out yesterday morning that she knew her time was soon. But still…something didn’t seem quite right.
Annie whined and pushed her head against Karen’s leg. Karen stooped and buried her face in Annie’s neck.
I exchanged a glance with Pastor Brian. He frowned. Were we thinking the same thing?
Karen rose finally, and I pulled her into a hug. “I’m so sorry.”
She returned my embrace, then drew away. The look on her face probably mirrored mine. “I can’t believe it. Yesterday she was talking about planting her garden, then today she’s gone.”
“What happened?” Pastor Brian stuck his hands in his pockets.
Karen shrugged. “The paramedics think probably a heart attack. She called me early this morning, which was unusual to begin with, but when I answered, she didn’t say anything. I thought I heard her breathing...” She closed her eyes tightly for a minute, then opened them. “I called 911 and they beat me over here. Said she had already passed by the time they found her.”
“What can I do to help?” I wondered briefly if her husband, Justin, was on his way.
“I don’t even know. At least the twins spent the night at my mother-in-law’s last night.” She shook her head. “Thanks for running over here, Callie. I know you probably need to open the shop. I just needed someone with me, and I couldn’t get a hold of Justin.”
“I’m fine. Annie and I can stay as long as you want us.” I had a big order of flower arrangements due to the Methodist church by two tomorrow for their annual Spring Fling, but that could wait. I would figure out a way to accomplish it by the deadline.
“I wish I would have gotten here in time. I’m so sad she was alone when she…when it happened.” Karen wiped a raindrop off her cheek.
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