Return to Grace

by Karen Harper

  “You just relax,” the nurse said, “and I’ll call the doctor in to see you. We’re very pleased you are awake, and I’ll let Sheriff Freeman know, too. He’s been gone for a while, but I believe he’s back on the grounds somewhere now.”

  Ray-Lynn struggled to remember. Oh, yes, the man who was sitting by her bed. Had he been waiting to question her about the accident? But he’d been holding her hand, had tears in his eyes, she recalled that for sure.

  “Wait! Please,” Ray-Lynn said as the nurse started out of the room. “Did I— Was someone else hurt? Why was the sheriff here?”

  The nurse came back, opened her mouth once, closed it, then told Ray-Lynn, “He said to tell you if you awoke that he’s a friend. You’re not under suspicion or arrest for anything, so don’t worry. I’ll be right back with Dr. Blackstone.”

  Why couldn’t she remember more about the sheriff? Ray-Lynn’s heartbeat kicked up. Something—something about the sheriff. So many things—pieces of her thoughts—seemed to be broken or missing. The words the nurse had said—You’re not under suspicion—that meant something, didn’t it? Why did the sheriff want to interview her? And it occurred to her for the first time that she’d have to interview Amish girls to staff her restaurant, get that going, if she could find someone else to invest in it now that Charles was gone.

  Tears blurred her eyes and ran down into her hairline as she stared up at the white, pockmarked ceiling. The doctor came in and leaned over to take her hand. She remembered his name was Dr. Blackstone even before she read it scripted above the pocket of his white coat he wore, so her memory was all right, wasn’t it? So why couldn’t she even remember the name of that sheriff, because if he was a friend, he must mean something to her.

  Midafternoon of that second day in the restaurant, Hannah was pleased that Seth stopped by for an early lunch. Things were going pretty smoothly at the Dutch Farm Table. Seth told her he was going right back to the sawmill, that Abe Mast was helping him figure out estimates of amounts, types and cost of woods for the Troyer mill project. The Detroit investors wanted him to sign a contract when he proposed the specs. Amish workers hated to sign anything that smacked of lawyers, but he sure wanted the job. He told her that two deputies from Wooster had come in to get wood to board up John Arrowroot’s house so it would be protected against vandals or thieves, since he’d had a lot of enemies. Like Linc earlier today, Seth ate quickly. Before he hurried out again, he promised, “I’ll pick you up before seven. And every day for the rest of our lives, if you stay with the restaurant—and with Marlena and me.”

  As rushed as he was, the lingering look he’d left her with still promised more than good-night smooches. It made her decide she would tell Linc that if there were strings attached to his offer for a loan and contact help for an audition, she’d have to just save her money. How she’d love to try professional singing once more. If the Lord opened a door there, she’d walk through it. If Seth loved her, he’d understand and accept that she wanted both a life with him and her people but singing for others, too. The world had come to the Home Valley in evil ways, but in good ways, as well. The “be ye separate” command her people clung to was so hard to live by.

  Late afternoon, Ella popped in with sachets and soaps to replace the small display of them Ray-Lynn let her keep on shelves near the front door.

  “Everything all right?” she asked Hannah as she shuffled the older products toward the front and filled in behind.

  “Better today. Yesterday I had three women tell me off, but not for bad food or service. Oh, there’s an envelope I saw under the till with your name on it.” She retrieved and extended it to Ella. “And here’s the extra from a visitor who just bought some things,” she said, digging in one of the pockets of Ray-Lynn’s calico print apron.

  “Great. Thanks. They say this winter’s going to be hard on bedding flowers so I’m going to hill my lavender up well. I’ll put this week’s money away to buy more plants if need be. I’m just going to pop on over to the Plain and Fancy to replace my things there.”

  “I feel really bad I let Amanda down by leaving that job so soon,” Hannah confided. “She and Harlan have both been really good to me.”

  “I’m sure she knows you’re more needed here—not that dusting and cleaning isn’t important and so much fun,” she said with a little laugh.

  “Ella,” Hannah said, snagging her wrist before she could leave, “one of the people who told me off on Friday was Lily Freeman. She wanted to help me here, probably take over, but to honor Ray-Lynn’s feelings I turned her down. She tried to give me the idea the sheriff wanted her here, but he said no. Since she worked in some big restaurant in Las Vegas, I’m sure she could have been of help. In case you run into her at Amanda’s, I just wanted you to know she’s probably about as angry with me as she is with Ray-Lynn. I suppose Ray-Lynn overreacted somewhat around Lily, but I can understand her fear that Lily would like to get back with the sheriff.”

  “Do you think she’s upset enough with Ray-Lynn she’d shove her off the road?” Ella asked wide-eyed. “I can take a look at Lily’s front bumper if it’s parked behind the B and B, see if there are dents or scrapes.”

  “I didn’t tell you all that so that you’d put yourself in danger. Besides, Linc thought the other tires belonged to a van or truck.” She sighed. “I’m starting to sound like Linc, who’s always telling me to stay out of his investigation, but just be aware and careful.”

  “Tell you what,” Ella whispered as more folks came in for lunch. “I’ll stop back in if there’s anything to tell—if I see or hear anything about Lily.”

  As she went out and Hannah picked up menus to seat a foursome, the very scent of the new lavender products calmed her. Linc was going to get answers in Detroit. The graveyard shooting must have been done by an outsider. At least Ray-Lynn’s tragedy hadn’t killed her, even if it had killed her memory, her immediate past and maybe her love for Sheriff Freeman.

  Ella was back about an hour later, fussing with her products she’d already arranged, giving Hannah tilts of her head and sideways glances that must mean she had something to tell her in the back. It was a busy time, but Hannah put Leah on the front door and doubled Amy’s station. If Amy balked—which she didn’t, just glared at Hannah—it would be a later excuse to replace her.

  “I don’t put it past Amy Zook to be spying on Seth and me for her sister Susan,” Hannah whispered to Ella as they hurried back to Ray-Lynn’s office.

  “Speaking of spying, that’s what I have to tell you. Amanda’s completely understanding about your leaving the job there, but I overheard Lily on her cell phone and she was so mad she was talking pretty loud, like she was ready to lose her temper.”

  “About my not letting her work here?”

  “No, about convincing someone that she is not after Jack—that’s what she called the sheriff.”

  “She can’t be talking to Ray-Lynn, can she?”

  “No way. She’s talking to someone where it’s eighty-six degrees today. I overheard that, too, right through the door of her room upstairs at the B and B.”

  “Maybe it was a friend in Las Vegas. But that sounds like the person she’s talking to cares for her—you know, might be jealous if she’s after another man. Maybe someone she dated there knows her ex-husband is here and available. I’m going to tell Linc all that when he gets back, even though I’ve learned your information is hearsay and maybe entrapment. And now she’s angry with me for siding with Ray-Lynn and having the job she wants here.”

  “I don’t like the sounds of all that. Especially because she’s so tight with Elaine Carson, and that woman loves guns more than people. She’d probably be a great shot, even after dark, even if people moved among tombstones. Then what if she planted the rifle she used and a fake note at Arrowroot’s house after she lured him out somehow?”

  “And did what with him? Murdered him in cold blood? More like, she admired him for standing up for his rights as an American. I should have
asked Linc who left the Rooster Roadhouse when that night, someone who could have seen Ray-Lynn on the road or in the parking lot and then followed her. He’s interviewed folks who were there then. Like I said, he thought the vehicle that ran her off the road was a van or truck—big tire tracks.”

  “Which Lily doesn’t have—”

  “But Elaine does,” they finished in unison.

  “Well, if either Lily or Elaine comes in here, I think you should call Linc immediately,” Ella said.

  “He’s not even in the vicinity right now, but no one is going to gun me down or run me off the road in a busy restaurant, and Seth’s coming in plenty of time to take me home.”

  “Is it home to you now, Hannah? Can it—we—all be your family, your friends again? You and I—Sarah, too, of course—always felt like sisters, so if you’d just stay and make a life…”

  “I’ve got to get back out front. Thanks for telling me what you heard. Want something to eat before you go?”

  “I’d better head home. I told Mamm I’d take care of Marlena. She needs a mother, Hannah, just like Seth needs a wife. I’m hoping and praying, no matter what happened before, that will be you.”

  Hannah closed up a bit early to be sure all the customers would be finished eating by the time Seth came to get her. It wasn’t even dusk, so she sent Leah home shortly after the other waitresses and cooks left. If Ray-Lynn was away for long, Hannah would keep Leah as her second in charge. It was good to have a new friend.

  She surveyed the restaurant with her ears attuned to Seth’s buggy out back. Nothing yet, but it was a bit earlier than she expected him. Instead, she heard the purr of a motor and a knock-knock on the back alley door.

  “Who is it?” she called through the door.

  “Harlan. Got the week’s restaurant meat. Sorry I didn’t get here sooner!”

  She unlocked the door and let him in. Wearing gloves while he handled the frozen meat, he nodded and came in with a huge sliced side of bacon over one shoulder. She hurried ahead of him into the kitchen, clicking on electric lights and opening one of the side-by-side doors of the large stand-up stainless-steel freezer for him. Cold air swirled from it to chill her.

  “These are cut in five-pound sections, so you’ll defrost about four a day,” he told her, all business. She was tempted to ask him how he was doing and if he’d cleared the air with his wife and sister, but she didn’t.

  “If you can hold the doors for me, that’s good,” he told her. “Fifteen-pound boxes of beef and sausage coming next.”

  He came back and forth, hefting two cartons at a time. The man was even stronger than he looked. He grunted as he stacked them inside the freezer, the tops of the boxes toward the front, clearly marked and sealed with black duct tape. “Side of beef next—cut up, so don’t worry about the space you got left.”

  As he slid the remaining box out of the back of his vehicle, she saw the restaurant must be the last of his deliveries he planned to make today. The truck interior was refrigerated and wafted out cold air. He also had several dollies within and an array of ropes and canvas cords. A big roll of dark duct tape lay there, too, the kind he’d sealed the boxes with.

  Should she ask if he’d seen Ray-Lynn at the Roadhouse three nights ago, or would that remind him of his drinking? He seemed pretty sober now, both kinds of sober, off the booze and serious about his work.

  “There you go,” he said as he carried the last load in. He wedged the box of plastic trays of meat into the freezer and she closed the door. He seemed awkward and nervous alone with her.

  “Thanks, Harlan. I see Ray-Lynn pays you on the fifteenth and the last day of the month, so I’ll be sure to take care of that.”

  On the way out, she sensed he was going to say something else, but he didn’t. At the back door, he stepped out into the gray dusk and looked both ways, tugging his leather gloves tighter up his wrists. She turned in the doorway to go back inside.

  Suddenly, he reached for her from behind, one leather-covered hand over her mouth, one shooting around to pin her arms to her sides.

  In a swift, strong movement, he lifted and slid her, facedown, into the back of his truck with his hand still over her mouth. Cold metal, cold air. Shocked, but not into submission, Hannah tried to kick and scream, but he duct-taped her mouth shut, then tied her wrists behind her with rope while she thrashed her skirts up to her knees before he could get her ankles tied. Ray-Lynn’s ring of keys rattled in the pocket of her apron.

  Trapped, trussed, she stopped struggling. Her mind began to work again when her limbs and mouth could not. Seth would be here soon. Find her gone. Search for her. But even if someone had seen this truck, so what? Linc out of town…told Leah to go home…sheriff where? Just calm down, just breathe, pray.

  This was not happening. Not possible. Not Amanda’s brother! He had been kind, helpful.... John Arrowroot missing…now her, too? Seth, come back early! Come here now! Someone in the alley, see or hear…someone!

  He rolled her in a blanket she hadn’t seen. It actually felt good. Her bonnet and cape were inside the restaurant. Hard to breathe in the blanket with the gag. Breathe. Just breathe.

  “Got orders to clean things up,” he muttered, out of breath, as if trying to convince himself. “Just doing what I been hired to do. Don’t fight, ’cause it’s not gonna help. Just accept it. You Amish are good at that. The Indian, too.”

  He got up into the bed of the truck—it bounced under his weight. He pulled her farther back in, rolling something big and cold against her, one of the dollies. The truck bounced again as he got out, slammed both doors and shot a bolt or latch. The sound echoed in her soul. Though the next noises were muted, she was pretty sure he closed the back door to the restaurant, then opened and closed the driver’s side door of his truck cab in front.

  Had he hurt Ray-Lynn, too? Was he going to drop her over a cliff? And he’d mentioned the Indian. He must have taken John Arrowroot. But who had ordered him to “clean things up”?

  The meat storage truck, with Hannah in its cold belly, rumbled to life and drove smoothly out onto Main Street.

  27

  IT WAS QUITE dark a little before seven when Seth knocked on the back restaurant door and waited for Hannah to open it. He knocked again; then, thinking she must be in the front and didn’t hear him, he left Blaze and the buggy and went around to look in the windows facing the street.

  Dimmed lights. Empty of people. No Hannah or Leah. He knocked again louder on the door and on the long glass window, right over the table where he’d eaten yesterday.

  He pounded on the front door, then ran to the side of the building and knocked on the office window in case she’d fallen asleep on the couch there. She’d been exhausted. Curtains drawn, the office dark, but his noise would wake her up. Surely she hadn’t forgotten he was coming to get her. If only cell phones weren’t verboten!

  Instead, he ran for the sheriff’s office just down the way. The small building was dark. A phone—he needed a public phone. In Amish country, pay phones in town were almost as common as the phone shanties on farm roads. The nearest one was down in front of the Kwik Stop grocery. Linc was out of town, so he’d call the sheriff.

  Rather than take the time to get the buggy, he ran. Thoughts and fears pursued him: the shooting in the graveyard, a man killed, Hannah and her friend hit. Arrowroot missing, Ray-Lynn hurt. But where was the pattern? Where was the evildoer and where was his Hannah? No way she would have gone with Linc, even if he’d come back for her, promised her the moon—a singing career. Was there?

  He had memorized the sheriff’s cell phone number, Linc’s, too, hoping he’d never need them. Since he had no pockets in his clothing, he kept coins jammed in his hatband.

  He slapped three quarters into the slot, punched in the sheriff’s cell phone number and heard the phone ring, ring. Why didn’t he answer? It would take too long to drive out to his house right now. He had to get in the restaurant, look for Hannah. He hit his fist against his thigh as
the sheriff’s voice-mail recording came on. He should have just broken into the restaurant. The sheriff would understand; Hannah and Ray-Lynn would give their permission.

  “Sheriff, it’s Seth,” he said at the beep. “Hannah didn’t answer the door at the restaurant when I came to take her home. I’m going to break in, gotta find her fast.”

  He slammed the receiver down and ran down the street. He ignored the few folks who stared at him. Most were home eating suppers in their houses, safe and happy. Why couldn’t it be that way for him and Hannah? His gut churned with raw terror at the thought of losing her again.

  What if she felt ill, went home with Leah and left him a note that blew away? What if she just stepped out in town to get something, then planned to be back when he arrived? He was a bit early. What if…what if…

  Would a burglar alarm go off if he broke a window to get in? He wasn’t sure if Ray-Lynn had invested in that, considering where they lived. Few crimes until recently, the world pushing in on the Home Valley. If an alarm went off, maybe that would bring the sheriff. He must be taking a shower at home, making noise somehow so he hadn’t heard his cell phone or had turned it off. He’d check his voice mail, he’d be here soon. Seth knew he should have called Linc, as well, but Hannah said he was out of town today, so the sheriff could do that.

  Panicked, Seth lifted the big ceramic pot of geraniums, frost-tinged, that sat near the front door. He moved away from the long picture window and lugged the pot around the side of the building to the smaller office window.

  He heaved the pot against the glass. Both shattered, but shards edged the window like jagged jaws. He put his hat over his hand and knocked them out. No alarm sounded. Even before he shoved open the curtains and climbed in, he shouted, “Hannah! Hannah! You here?”