by Nancy Mehl
“We’re going,” I said as Zac’s eyelids began to flutter. “You get some sleep.”
“Okay.” He drew out the word, and then his voice dropped off completely. It was replaced by snoring.
“Are you sure you want to sit with him, Esther?” I asked. “I don’t mind . . .”
She waved her hand at me. “Not at all. Makes me feel useful again. Like when I took care of Benjamin and Rebecca.”
The catch in her voice got my attention, and I looked at Reuben. He gave me a slight nod. “Why don’t you walk me to the door, Wynter?” he said.
I touched Esther’s shoulder. “I’ll be right back.”
“That’s fine, honey. You take your time. He’ll probably sleep for quite a while. He’s pretty worn out.”
I slipped out the door, and Reuben followed me. When we got down the stairs, I grabbed his arm and pulled him aside.
“Look, I don’t want to be nosy, but is everything all right with Esther’s children? Their rooms seem like shrines, and she hasn’t mentioned seeing them recently.”
Reuben took my hand and led me over to the front door. Then he pushed it open and we stepped out onto the porch. The wind had picked up, and there was a definite chill in the air, although the rain Reuben had predicted wasn’t here yet. Spring in Missouri was mercurial. I could dress warmly in the morning and be sweating by the afternoon. Today the reverse was true.
“After Josiah died, Esther was both mother and father to those kids. Of course, the community helped her quite a bit. That’s Sanctuary. We see ourselves as one big family.” He grinned. “Not in a creepy way. No one here believes we own other people’s children, but when one of us needs help, all of us pitch in.”
“You all get together for a good old-fashioned barn raisin’?” I asked with an exaggerated twang.
He laughed. “Actually, that happened once. But usually, no. It’s more like when someone’s sick, people bring food, and when a mother loses her husband, the church makes sure she has plenty of help.”
He leaned against one of the posts that held up the porch’s roof. “Most of the kids in Sanctuary go to public school in Barnes. It’s only about ten miles from here. The school’s a good one now, but it was kind of a mess when Ben and Becky went there many years ago. They got involved with some bad kids. Esther did her best to keep an eye on them, but it wasn’t enough. Ben took off when he was eighteen. He’s been in trouble ever since. I’m not sure when Esther last heard from him. And that might be a good thing. When he does call, he wants money. Once he realized Esther didn’t have any more to give him, he quit contacting her.”
“What about Rebecca? Esther said she was married and living in Springfield.”
Reuben nodded. “She is. After a rough start, she straightened herself out. But she always says she’s too busy to visit her mother. Esther doesn’t drive, so she never gets to see her grandchildren. To be honest, I think Becky’s too embarrassed to let her rich husband see where she came from.”
I pulled myself up and sat on the railing. “Man, I can’t believe it. Esther’s one of the nicest people I’ve ever met. Someday she’ll be gone. I wonder how her kids will feel then.”
“I don’t know.” Reuben shook his head. “I actually called Becky once and tried to talk to her about her mother. That didn’t go well.”
“I suppose you had the perfect life. You and your family are close?”
“Yes, we’re very close. We lost my dad about seven years ago. My mom lives in Jefferson City, and Maggie lives in Kansas. No childhood trauma to report.” As soon as the words left his mouth, his face fell. “Wynter, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”
“Please, Reuben. Don’t worry about it. I don’t want anyone to walk on eggshells because of me.” I gazed out at the silent streets. “So why do you live here instead of near your family?”
He smiled. “My parents owned a farm just outside of town. After my dad died, I inherited the farm, lock, stock, and barrel. Maggie didn’t want it, and I did.”
“So you’re a mayor slash farmer?”
He laughed. “Add another slash. I do a little writing too. Guess it runs in the family.”
“Wow. I’m impressed.”
“Don’t be. I write copy for farm equipment catalogs. Not very exciting. I won’t be popping up on the New York Times Best Seller list anytime soon.”
“Still, it’s . . . cool.”
Reuben’s eyebrows arched in surprise. “You’re the first person to think describing a spark plug for a John Deere tractor is cool.”
“Well, I do. You know, I don’t tell many people that I like to write. They tend to look at me like I just announced I was running for Miss America. I told my mother about it after I enrolled in college. She thought I was delusional. I changed my major from creative writing to broadcast journalism.”
“Well, I don’t think you’re delusional. You should follow your passion.”
“I am. I enjoy my job.”
“That didn’t sound very convincing.”
I smiled. “I may not be passionate about it, but I am content. Perhaps that’s enough.”
“So what are you doing tomorrow?” he asked.
“Well, I can’t do actual interviews without my photog, but I can work on questions and decide where to shoot. With your help, we have several good candidates for the piece. I’ll talk to those I think will work well for our story and narrow it down to four or five. Then when Zac feels better, all we’ll have to do is film the final interviews and get our background shots.”
“I’ll stop by in the morning and check on Zac,” he said. “If he’s doing okay, I’ll take you to breakfast. Maybe I’ll tag along while you work, if it’s okay.”
“I’d like that. I’m sure people will feel more comfortable if you’re with me. Thanks, Reuben.”
“Wynter . . .” Reuben hesitated.
“Yes?”
“Promise me you’ll be careful.”
The seriousness of his tone made my stomach do flip-flops. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t know. The note stuck on your windshield. The newspaper clippings. Zac getting sick. Individually, none of them are ominous. But all of them together? It makes me nervous.”
“I’ll admit the note was a little scary, but as far as the rest of it . . . I don’t see any connection. Zac got sick because he ate food that wasn’t refrigerated. It might have been dumb, but I don’t think it’s anything to be concerned about.”
“I know, but it’s still disturbing. All these things happening at the same time.” He stepped up closer to me and put his hand under my chin. “Promise me you’ll be cautious, okay? Don’t take any chances.”
I put my hand on his. “I’ll be careful. I promise.”
I knew he was going to kiss me, and I was right. Even though I couldn’t see a future for us, my feelings seemed to have a mind of their own.
I gently pushed him away. “I’d better get inside. See you tomorrow.”
“See you tomorrow.”
I watched him until he turned the corner. Then I went inside. Before going to my room, I stopped to check on Zac. He was still sleeping. Esther sat in the chair knitting. She smiled and nodded, letting me know she wasn’t quite ready to leave.
When I opened my door, weariness washed over me. I kicked off my shoes and collapsed on the couch. Reuben’s concerns for my safety made me feel disquieted. Ever since I’d come to Sanctuary, I’d concentrated on finding out the truth about my brother. Being concerned for my own safety hadn’t really occurred to me. But what if Elijah was Ryan? And what if his kidnapper was living in Sanctuary? Of course, it was possible the Fishers weren’t what they seemed to be. But it was much more likely they’d been duped by someone else. Could that person be watching me? Afraid I might get too close?
These questions rolled around in my mind for a while, but they were like feathers in the wind, blowing every which way without any discernible pattern. Finally I forced myself to get ready for bed. I’
d just changed into my pajamas when someone knocked on my door. I opened it and found Esther standing there.
“I’m headed to bed, Wynter,” she said. “Zac is sleeping peacefully. I left his door open so you could hear him if he needs help. Might be best if you left yours open as well. Mind you, the cats will probably find their way in.”
As if on cue, Maizie came running in and jumped up onto the bed.
I laughed. “I don’t mind one bit. I love having them around, and so does Zac.”
Esther looked pleased. “They’ve certainly taken a shine to both of you. And don’t worry about Zac. I doubt he’ll wake up. Best thing he can do is get some rest.”
“Thank you, Esther. I’m so glad you were here to take care of him.” I reached out and hugged the small woman.
“I certainly love having you here,” she said when I released her.
“Zac and I are very grateful. We both feel at home.”
She reached up and patted my cheek. “You get some sleep too. Come on down in the morning when you feel like it. I’ll wait on breakfast until you’re up and around.”
“Thanks, but please don’t go to any trouble. I’m good with toast and coffee.”
“Whatever you want. Good night.”
As she walked away, I suddenly remembered something. “Oh, and thank you for the fudge.”
Esther turned around and gave me an odd look. “Fudge? I’m not sure what you mean.”
“The box of fudge you put in my room.”
“Must have been someone else. It wasn’t me. But if you want something sweet there’s pie and cookies in the kitchen.”
I assured her I wasn’t hungry and said good night. The reality of her response made my skin crawl. I quietly walked down the hall to Zac’s room. His gentle snoring was the only sound I could hear. Clyde and Frances watched me from Zac’s bed as I searched everywhere for the box of fudge. Even in the trash can.
It had disappeared.
Chapter
Fourteen
“Contacting the police is a big step,” Reuben said.
I’d called him first thing after I got up. He came over and had breakfast with Esther and me. Now we sat out on the front porch in Esther’s white rocking chairs, drinking coffee.
“Someone put that fudge in my room,” I said in a low voice. “Someone besides Esther. I gave it to Zac, and he got really sick.”
“But it could have been the stromboli.”
“Yes, that’s true. But where did the fudge come from? And why would someone take the box?”
He took a sip of coffee. I could tell he was turning the situation over in his mind. “You’ve got to ask Zac about it.”
“I did, but he was still groggy. He doesn’t remember eating the fudge. In fact, he doesn’t remember much at all about last night.”
“Maybe you should ask him again when he’s feeling better.”
“I will. So what do I do now?”
He shook his head. “I honestly don’t know. All we have are suspicions, coincidences, and innuendos. Nothing solid. Nothing we could turn over to anyone in an official capacity.”
“I know. I’d mark all of this down as my overactive imagination if it wasn’t for the box of fudge. That box didn’t grow legs and walk out of Zac’s room.”
“Maybe Esther forgot she gave them to you. She’s getting older. Elderly people forget things.”
I snorted. “I’m sorry. You’ve met Esther. I wish I was that sharp.”
Reuben sighed. “You’re right. I’m just trying to make sense of all this. I’m having trouble believing someone snuck into Esther’s and left poisoned fudge in your room. They’d be taking a huge chance of getting caught. How could they be sure you’d eat it? And to be honest, I can’t think of one single person in Sanctuary capable of such an act.”
“People aren’t always who they seem to be, you know. I’ve interviewed a lot of people who were sure their friend could never murder anyone or their employee wouldn’t steal from them. People hide behind masks.”
“I know that. But Sanctuary is . . . different.”
I wasn’t going to argue with him. Frankly, I understood how he felt. But towns were made up of human beings, and I knew from experience that most human beings have secrets.
“I called Randi this morning,” Reuben said. “August is gone.”
I frowned at him. “What do you mean . . . gone?”
“Gone. Randi checked out his apartment. His clothes are missing. He packed up and left.”
“Does he have a car?”
“He used to have a truck, but I think he got rid of it. The Greyhound bus stops in Barnes. All he had to do was find a way to get there. He could be anywhere by now.”
I stood up. “This gets crazier all the time.”
“You think August put that fudge in your room, don’t you?”
“It’s the only thing that makes sense. I’m pretty sure he sent me those articles, and it’s possible he also wrote the threatening note Zac found the first night we arrived. His behavior toward me has been strange ever since I got here.”
“He would have had to sneak into Esther’s, find your room, and leave the fudge without being seen. How would he know which room was yours?”
I shrugged. “It wouldn’t be hard to figure out. A quick look around would make it clear which room was mine.”
“Still, it’s just so risky.”
“I know. You said that earlier. But you people don’t believe in locked doors. He could have easily done it while we were gone yesterday. And even if Esther was home, she doesn’t hear very well. She could have been taking a nap.”
“That’s true.” He got up from his rocker and stood next to me. “But I have to wonder why he’d do that, Wynter. Why would he send you those articles, wanting you to investigate the kidnappings, and then try to harm you? And even if he did leave the fudge, for some reason I can’t fathom, why skip town before he knows if his plan worked? It doesn’t make sense. I don’t think August is responsible for this. He might have sent the clippings, but that’s it.”
“Maybe he wanted me to check into the kidnappings from St. Louis, not here. Perhaps the fudge was supposed to make me sick so I’d go home.”
“I don’t know. Still doesn’t sound right. Besides, it appears that he left early yesterday. You found the box last night.”
“He could have put the fudge in my room while we were in church.”
“You went back to Esther’s to change clothes after the service. Did you notice the box then?”
“No, but it could have been there. Maybe I missed it. I was in a hurry.”
“Maybe.” He drained the rest of the coffee. “Look, why don’t you put off talking to people this morning about your story? You can easily do it later today or tomorrow. Zac’s going to be out of action for at least a couple of days. Why don’t we drive over to Samuel’s farm and see if the Fishers are there?”
“You can’t call them?”
“I thought about it, but I couldn’t come up with a reason that wouldn’t spook them. The last thing we want is for them to leave. For now, I think it would be best if we just drove out there. They probably won’t like us showing up unannounced, but we need to find out if Nathan and his family are there without tipping them off.”
“What excuse are you going to give them for our visit? I mean, if the Fishers aren’t there?”
Reuben shrugged. “I have no idea. Maybe I’ll tell them the truth.”
“But wouldn’t they contact Nathan and tell him? We might lose them for good.”
Reuben shook his head. “We’re going to have to wing it, Wynter. I guess if I have to, I can tell them we had car trouble and need to use their phone.”
“Okay, but let me see how Zac’s doing first. And I need to call my boss. I’m hoping I can get us more time without tipping him off as to where we are.”
Reuben held out his hand. “Hand me your cup. I’ll give it to Esther while you take care of these other things.”
I’d just given him my coffee cup when I noticed a familiar car coming down the street. It took a moment for me to accept what I was seeing. My father drove up in front of Esther’s house and parked.
“Do you know this guy?” Reuben asked.
“It’s my father. I can’t imagine what he’s doing here.”
We stared at each other through his windshield as if we were locked in some kind of weird battle of wills. Finally Dad opened his car door and stepped out.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
As he came up to the porch, I was shocked by the pallor of his skin and the circles under his eyes. He looked almost exactly the way Zac had last night.
“I’ve got to talk to you, Emily.” He looked at Reuben and frowned. “Alone. And right now.”
“I don’t understand. Why—?”
“I’m not going to stand outside and discuss this,” he retorted. “Where can we go so we can be alone?”
“Is Mom okay?” As soon as the words left my mouth, I realized my father wouldn’t have any idea about my mother’s welfare. It was just a knee-jerk reaction. “What’s this about, Dad?”
For a moment, my father seemed to sway as if he were on the verge of fainting. His appearance and attitude caused my chest to tighten with fear. Could it have something to do with Ryan? Had he been found? Was he dead?
“You and your father talk inside,” Reuben said. “I’ll wait for you at the café. We’ll leave when you’re done.”
“I don’t know . . .”
Reuben took my arm. “This seems important, Wynter.”
“Okay, but I want you to stay.”
“No,” my dad said with force. “This is family business. Between you and me.”
Anger rose inside me. “You have family business, Dad? I find that funny, since family doesn’t seem to mean much to you.”
“Please, Emily . . .”
“No. Reuben is my friend. He knows all about Ryan, and I want him with me. I feel closer to him than I do to you.”
“If it makes any difference, sir,” Reuben said, “nothing you say will be repeated to anyone else. Nor will I interfere in any way with your discussion.”