Upon A Winter's Night

by Karen Harper

  “My mother just asked me to stop by to see if there’s anything she—we—can do. A ride to Wooster, anything.”

  Lydia looked as if she was still waking up. Her voice sounded shaky and she kept blinking, either bothered by the light or maybe the sight of Connor at her back door.

  Lydia told him, “Please thank her for me, and I’ll let her know. Daad came through well. He’ll need rest for a while, though.”

  “Sure. Been losing a bit of sleep myself—with my new duties in town. Just let us know if we can help,” he repeated, and walked down the drive until he could cut across to his own property. As cold as it was, as early as it was, Ray-Lynn thought, why had he walked over here instead of driving?

  “Ray-Lynn, come in,” Lydia said. “I’ll change really quick. Want something to eat?”

  “Now, you know us Southern girls don’t stir outside in the morning without our makeup, coffee and grits.” Ray-Lynn tried for a light tone as Lydia closed the door. But when she saw the tears clumping Lydia’s eyelashes together, she hugged her. “But you’re the one with grit, my girl. And I’m right here to help.”

  Lydia hugged her back, then stepped away, wiping tears from her wet cheeks. “Oh, Ray-Lynn, someone was inside the house while we were all in Wooster. Moved some things around in the refrigerator, took a shower, got in my bed and made a mess of it.”

  “What? You mean like a break-in? Like someone ate your food and dared to sleep here?”

  “Not exactly,” she said, shaking her head hard. “I think it was to scare me, hurt me. I searched the whole house except for the basement and attic—that’s why the chair is propped there,” she said with a nod at the basement door across the kitchen.

  “I can call Jack. He can come over and look around. He drove to Parma last night to see Leo Lowe, but he wasn’t there, and his wife claimed she didn’t know where he was. That’s the guy who was hanging out in your backyard before, right?”

  “Ya. But I don’t think there was a break-in, so where would he get a key?”

  “I don’t know, but Jack’s got the Parma police looking for him.”

  “I’ll give you and the sheriff the details later, but I’ve got to get some things to the hospital,” she said, moving away. “If I leave a key under the mat, can the sheriff have a look after we leave?”

  “Not a good idea if you’ve had an intruder. I’ll call Jack and let him know, let him put two and two together about Leo Lowe. When I bring you back here, he can take a look around.”

  Lydia rushed upstairs to change. Ray-Lynn walked around the house, wanting to look out, but Lydia had all the curtains drawn. That figure Ray-Lynn had seen outside her and Jack’s house the other night—coincidence? Jack had said once that in police work there were no coincidences, but this was still the heart of Amish country, the Home Valley in Eden County, for heaven’s sake. So why did another serpent have to slither into their little piece of paradise?

  * * *

  Lydia asked Ray-Lynn to wait in the hospital lounge while she headed down the hall toward the room number she’d been given for her father. Carrying the two paper sacks with her parents’ clothing, she held both plastic containers of Daad’s medicines tight in her hand, along with the sleeping pills she wanted to talk to Mamm about. What a good sign that his doctor was walking toward her with a laptop computer in his hand!

  “Ms. Brand, it looks as if you could use some rest, too,” he said, stopping beside her. “Did you find your father’s BP meds?”

  She handed the bottle right over. “Yes, here. I had to really look for it. All I saw in the medicine cabinet where my mother said to look were first-aid things and her sleeping pills.”

  He looked up from studying the label on the bottle. “Does she have trouble sleeping, too? Your father said he did.”

  He seemed so kind and interested that Lydia almost launched into the sad story of the family losing Sammy, but she said only, “She does sometimes.” She showed him the bottle of Mamm’s pills. “So is that a good sleep medicine?”

  “A powerful one. People taking it have been known to have waking-talking blackout periods. They can function as if awake but they do things they later don’t recall, kind of like sleepwalking. I knew someone using this med who fixed a large breakfast for people and didn’t recall a thing—thought someone else had been in her kitchen. What’s really bad is that some people drive after taking it. In a couple of recent criminal cases, the accused have claimed they weren’t responsible for an accident because they were under the influence of the drug.”

  “And you can buy something scary like that in a drugstore or grocery store?”

  “No. It’s prescription only and comes with all sorts of warnings.” Taking the container from her, he observed, “She’s peeled off the label that gives the doctor and pharmacy. I’m just giving you a heads-up that if your mother is taking this on a regular basis for insomnia, she might not be a very good nurse for your father, but at least she’ll have you to help. Thanks for this.” He indicated the Hytrin medication. “I just checked your father out a half hour ago. He’s resting well, but we’ll be sure he gets onto a good blood pressure med. So, what’s in that other bottle you’re holding?”

  “Oh, I almost forgot. I grabbed this medicine of Daad’s, too, in case it makes a difference in what you prescribe. It’s Paxil, and I didn’t know he had it. It says ‘for depression.’”

  The doctor’s eyebrows shot up. He took it from her and glanced at the label. “It’s the same doctor he had for the blood pressure meds. But you had no idea about this?”

  “No, and I’m not sure Mamm did, either. I found it in his—in his private study with the Hytrin bottle. He’s looked tired lately and has a lot of pressure at this time of year in the store, but... Could these have hurt his heart?”

  “As with the sleeping pills, there are side effects, so I’m glad you turned these up. Don’t get him or your mother more upset talking about it until I check things out. I’ll speak to him first in private.”

  “I understand. I won’t bring it up.” She almost told him that she had bigger secrets than that. Keeping both of Daad’s pill vials but handing Mamm’s back, he gave her an encouraging nod and went on his way. Lydia just stood there a moment, her mind racing. Daad’s depression was one thing, but she had no idea Mamm had been to a doctor for sleeping pills, though she had taken a lot of naps lately. But with those strange side effects, why didn’t she choose another kind? And had her doctor explained the risks to her?

  She tiptoed into Daad’s room, a private one with one bed, though Mamm was curled up on a couch along the far wall. Machines with moving lines on their screens were attached to Daad’s arms like power cords going into an Englische home from telephone poles. She decided not to upset either of them by telling them what she’d found at home. Besides, Ray-Lynn would go in with her when they went back, and then she planned to buggy straight to the furniture store. Ray-Lynn had called the sheriff. The two of them planned to meet Lydia at the house so that she could walk him through it in a similar setting as she’d found the place.

  “Liddy,” came a quiet voice from the bed.

  She hurried over and put her hands over her father’s left one atop the sheets. He whispered, “Had a tube down my throat...hurts.”

  “Don’t talk, then,” she whispered, nearly matching his raspy voice, hoping not to wake Mamm. “You’ll be fine, but it will take some time. You’ll be home soon, and I’ll help.”

  He mouthed his words this time. “You already do.”

  “Ray-Lynn has volunteered to drive me back and forth. Even Connor came over this morning to say his mother was worried about us.”

  His eyes widened in obvious surprise. Tears glazed his eyes but did not spill. “You can trust her—Bess,” she thought he said, but he seemed to have fallen asleep again.

  She stood there for a while, holding his hand, watching the little lines go up and down each time his heart beat. She nearly jumped through the roof when someon
e touched her from behind.

  It was Mamm, motioning her out into the hall. She, too, looked so strung out that Lydia decided right then she wouldn’t tell her about the disarray in the house until later. Even if Daad had been in great shape, the thought of an intruder would upset her mother.

  “You found his medicine?” Mamm asked.

  “Yes, and I gave the bottle to the doctor. I brought things in sacks for both of you,” she added, “on the chair next to his bed.”

  “Good girl. Lydia, I know I sound like a scold sometimes, but I only want what’s best for you. You know that, don’t you?”

  “Ya, Mamm, of course.” And, Lydia thought, the fact her mother had not been sleeping well for who knew how long could make anyone on edge. She wondered again if Mamm knew about Daad’s medicine for depression, but that would have to wait.

  “But now you must also do what is best for the family,” Mamm went on, “and that means helping Gid at the store. I can take care of things here and when we get Daad home. No need to whisper to your father, say things that might upset him, and the same for him.”

  “I—I wouldn’t. But ‘same for him’? I don’t know what you mean.”

  She shrugged. “In his condition, he might say things he doesn’t mean. He had some sedation.”

  Lydia almost asked her if she knew the side effects of her own sleeping pills, but she decided to save that, too.

  “Ray-Lynn is still here?” Mamm asked.

  “She said she’d wait.”

  “Don’t keep your friend waiting. It was so nice of her, but she has a business to care for just like you do now.”

  Lydia nodded. At least Mamm had more or less apologized for seeming to scold all the time. And she was right that she should check in at the furniture store, for surely Daad would want that, too. But what sort of sickbed confessions had she been afraid her own daughter and Daad would be whispering about? Maybe she was afraid that, since Daad had faced death, he would insist they tell Lydia all about her “real” parents.

  * * *

  About halfway home, Ray-Lynn said to Lydia, “Not to change the subject when you have a lot to worry about already, but I did end up talking to a Hostetler. You told me you might want to reach out to your birth mother’s family.”

  “Someone came into the restaurant?” Lydia asked, coming instantly alert and sitting up in the passenger seat.

  “Actually, it’s our custodian at the Community Church, Nathan Hostetler. He’s about fortysomething, I guess. He’s not of your faith anymore, but he and his family turned Mennonite. He was around during our manger scene planning, and I just thought I’d ask him if he was related to a Lena Hostetler Brand from over near Amity. He is—was—her cousin. One of many, I take it.”

  “You didn’t say more to him about that, did you?”

  “Only made sure he’d be at the outdoor manger scene, because I thought you could talk to him there, so you wouldn’t have to make a big deal of going to his house, lying to your parents. And I knew you’d be too busy to look him up right away.”

  “Ray-Lynn, you’re the best! I don’t know what I’d do without you and Josh.”

  “Well, ding-dang. But somehow I know you don’t put us both just in the good-friends category. Lydia, what are you going to do about Gid Reich when all this smoke clears?”

  “I’m going to make sure he understands we can be partners at the store until Daad recovers, but not in life.”

  “It may not be that easy. You just be careful.”

  “Don’t I know it, because Hank saw Gid walking around our house, though he did bring our buggies back and was probably just making certain things were secure. I need to bide my time with him—and everyone. Not jump to conclusions.”

  “Such as that he was the one in your house? You know Jack and I will help.”

  “Ya, and I’m so blessed by that. I want to find out, with the sheriff’s help, who it was. Then I’ll have to wait until it can be proved Sandra’s death was an accident. Ray-Lynn—it just had to be! And I need to get Daad healthy again so I can tell my parents I love them both but I need to know about my real parents. Sandra sent a voice message to Josh on Hank’s phone that said she had something else to tell me about my mother. It sounded like something bad—”

  “Which mother?”

  “My birth mother, of course, Lena Hostetler! That’s what Sandra was researching for me, even if she went about it the wrong way.”

  But after so vehemently answering that question, Lydia agonized silently the rest of the way home. Sandra had sought out Daad at the store and somehow won him over, partly because of her admiration of his quilts, of course, partly because she didn’t tell him her real intentions.

  But could she also have dared to meet with or question Mamm? And if so, was there any way she’d won her over, too? No, more likely Susan Brand would have reacted just the opposite, because Mamm had bad-mouthed Sandra when she, supposedly, hadn’t even met her.

  19

  Although it was midafternoon with sunlight glaring off the snow and slanting through the windows when Lydia entered the barn to harness Flower, it suddenly seemed a dark place to her. Her parents would not want her to padlock it at night, yet what if the house intruder did something in here? Someone had unhitched and moved Flower when she was in Amity, and that would be easier in a dark barn.

  She fed all three horses, putting a feed bag on Flower while she harnessed her. Same as last night, every little creak of wood, even the horses shuffling through straw, alarmed her. She could not and would not live in fear, she vowed, but her pulse still pounded.

  As she led Flower outside pulling the buggy, then went back to slide the barn door closed, she thought of it. She was an idiot! Why hadn’t she remembered that before? Daad kept an extra house key on a hook at the back of the barn. Could someone have found that—used that? Gid and who knew who else had been in here just yesterday to bring the buggies home.

  She went back inside, remembering again that someone strong must have taken Josh’s camel seat, followed her to Amity and unhitched Flower from her buggy the day she interviewed Mr. Raber about her birth father. Gid? Leo Lowe, whom the sheriff couldn’t find at his home last night? Surely not Connor.

  But there was the key. Of course, it could have been used and returned. Oh, no. It was hanging on a big nail next to the hook where Daad kept it! Had it been used, moved, or could Daad, as distracted and ill as he’d been lately, have moved it himself? But he had keys to the house and store on a chain. And that chain had probably been left somewhere in his office when the emergency squad came to take him to Wooster.

  She grabbed the key and stuck it in the top of her stocking. After closing the barn door, she rushed to her buggy, climbed up and giddyapped Flower away. She had to oversee more than the front desk at the store. She also needed to carefully, cleverly, keep an eye on her would-be come-calling friend, Gideon Reich.

  * * *

  “You’re up early, Sheriff,” Josh greeted Jack Freeman at the back door of his barn. At least he had knocked this time and not just walked in as if the place was under his ownership or control.

  “More like I haven’t been to bed,” he said, scratching the stubble on his chin. “Knew if I did I wouldn’t get up. Slept in a chair and Ray-Lynn gave me holy hell for not coming to bed. Sorry to put it that way.”

  “That’s okay,” Josh said. “But there’s Hell, and there’s what’s holy, and never the twain shall meet. Lately, though, it’s been more like Hell around here.”

  “Got some more-or-less good news for you.”

  They stood facing each other between the camel pen and the loft where Sandra had died. “I could sure use some of that,” Josh admitted as his hopes soared.

  “Putting it in layman’s terms, the coroner’s official report will be that Sandra’s death was caused by a traumatic blow to her head and a broken neck. Probable cause—her head hitting the lower ladder rung, so that eliminates a blow to her head by a second party.”
<
br />   Josh exhaled. “A tragic accident. I had nothing to do with it, or at least, I wasn’t there.”

  “What’s that mean? ‘At least’ you weren’t there?”

  “Indirectly, I might have been the reason she climbed up there. I think she wanted to prove to me that she was willing to come in the barn with the big animals. She’d been afraid of any animal much larger than cats since she was a kid. She told me once she’d accidentally fatally injured her brother’s puppy and everyone made a big deal of it, not thinking of her feelings. And then, once she was in the barn, she must have wanted to see the cat and kittens I’d mentioned to her—and somehow fell.”

  “You’re a smart guy,” the sheriff said, “so help me with a couple of things. You mind if we sit down?”

  “That’s fine. You can have the one chair I’ve got out here.”

  “A hay bale will do,” he said, going over to Josh’s makeshift office and sinking onto one.

  “Coffee? I brought some out. I’ve got cups.”

  “Sure, thanks.”

  Josh poured, hoping what was coming next wasn’t some complication to the so-called “good news” he’d just shared. Not wanting to tower over his guest, Josh sat on a hay bale, too, one a few feet away.

  “You know what I’m gonna say?” the sheriff asked after he took a long sip of the coffee.

  “That two women have died on my property by blows to their heads?”

  “That, too. No, I’m thinking, even if Sandra fell and hit her head on the ladder, that would not have been enough to make it come loose from its moorings considering the way you had it nailed down. The ladder must have been wrenched or the nails removed to come away from the loft like that.”

  “Maybe when she fell, she grabbed the ladder and pulled it loose.”

  “Then took a header into the bottom rung? Like you say, maybe. With her injuries, she must have fallen headfirst, and it’s still hard for me to picture her not clinging to the loft or ladder, then falling feetfirst, unless she was pushed. A broken leg maybe, but not a broken neck.”