Lancaster County Reckoning

by Kit Wilkinson

  The Gregorian? That was one of the most prestigious museums in the United States, located right in the heart of the nation’s capital.

  The more Darcy found out about this mess, the less she really understood. How had her father gotten mixed up in this?

  Thomas read the article aloud.

  “‘Smugglers at the Gregorian—William Wissenberg, former director of the Gregorian Museum of Fine Art, has been convicted of murder, international smuggling and fraud. He was condemned to a life sentence and a fifty-million-dollar fine for having “displaced” hundreds of important works of art over the past ten years. Sources say that his operation was so well constructed that if it had not been for the testimony of a former Gregorian employee, who was also the lead member of the Wissenberg smuggling ring, that Wissenberg would never have faced charges. Instead, he was convicted of killing security guard Kevin Loewer, age sixty-five.’”

  Thomas glanced over the rest of the old article. “Director of the Gregorian? That’s something. Elijah said that Wissenberg must have been important... So, you think that it’s Jesse who is mentioned at the end of the article? The former employee? The reporter never reveals his name.”

  Darcy let out a low exhale. “Yes. I guess he must have worked at the Gregorian, too.”

  Thomas tried searching Gregorian employees during that time frame matching the ten years in question, but in all of the news coverage they could find, everything seemed to be about Wissenberg.

  “Thinking I was born with a different name than Darcy Simmons is pretty strange.”

  “A name is just a name,” Thomas said. “It does not change who you are. I only knew your father as Jesse Troyer, but I can see in him the man who used to work for a grand museum. He is definitely a very educated man. I’m not surprised he did something scholarly. He is always reading. Taught me a lot. He could approach things from a different perspective that challenged me to think about why I believe what I do. And he always knows how to explain things in relationship to his faith.”

  Darcy felt a pang of mixed emotions, which quickly turned over to anger. “But what you just read about the employee who testified—if that’s Jesse who gave the evidence against Wissenberg, then that means he was also a large part of a smuggling operation. That doesn’t bother you? I know he’s in a coma, and I shouldn’t feel angry at someone in a coma but...”

  Thomas dropped his hands from the keyboard. “I don’t know who Jesse was before he was Jesse. But the man I know is a good man, Darcy. I thought of him as a second father after my own passed away. And I can’t stand the thought of losing him. It does not matter what he was, or what he did. Our God forgives. And so must we.”

  “I’m sorry,” Darcy said. “About your father.” About my outburst. That I’m scared out of my mind. That I don’t even know who I am.

  Thomas looked over at her and smiled. “Ach, that was a long, long time ago. But my datt and yours, they were good friends, too.”

  Jesse was still a thief and his association with criminals got her mother killed. She couldn’t forgive that so easily. Darcy shook her head slightly, tears rolling down her face. “I was really looking forward to getting to know him. But now to find out that he was a thief? That he conspired with a murderer? No wonder my grandparents hated him. He ruined our family by being a part of some crime ring. How can you forgive someone for that?”

  Thomas touched her wrist with his big calloused hand. Warmth shot through her skin and she stared down at her small hand under his. For a moment, she didn’t feel the pain in her head.

  “Do you think that maybe that’s unfair?” he asked gently. “You told me yourself that Jesse never got a chance to explain himself to you. Wait until you hear his side of the story before you condemn him.”

  “How do you only see the good in everything?” She thought about turning her hand and lacing her fingers with his. Instead, she pulled her hand away and shook off the crazy idea. What was she thinking? She felt close to him—but it was only because of the circumstances. Once this situation was over and she was no longer in danger, there would be no reason for her path to cross the Amish farmer’s again.

  Thomas left shortly after, with Blake giving him a ride home. Darcy took a quick bath and settled into her luxurious guest room. But sleep eluded her. She couldn’t relax. Not with all that had happened. Not knowing what she now knew. How was she ever going to accept it all?

  She continued to struggle with the idea the next morning, sitting in the passenger seat of Abigail’s car.

  “I feel silly being babysat,” Darcy said to Abigail as they pulled up in front of Nolt cottage.

  “Nonsense,” Abigail said. “Someone needs to keep an eye on you to make sure you don’t experience side effects from your injury, and Nana Ruth absolutely loves to have company. Let her fuss all over you today. You need to rest up if you expect to get back in the swing of things. And your car should be ready by the time my shift is over.”

  “Are you sure? I do have a friend or two in the city. I can call one to come pick me up, and I’m sure they’d be willing to keep me company for a few hours.” Darcy felt ashamed to keep depending on the kindness of Jesse’s community. “I really think I’ve outworn my welcome.”

  “Don’t you want to check on Jesse later?”

  “Well, yes, but—”

  “Then why call in someone from the city when we are all here to help you?” Abigail said—the woman knew her reasoning was sound.

  “I really can’t thank you enough,” Darcy said. “Your kindness. Everyone’s kindness here. I don’t think I’ve ever needed it more.”

  But what price would they pay for that kindness? Would they get hurt simply because they were helping her? How could she live with herself if that occurred?

  EIGHT

  Thomas didn’t have to like or dislike what he and Darcy had uncovered on the internet the night before, because he didn’t dare let himself believe it. Not yet. Jesse had been his good friend—to think him anything but a good and honorable man hurt something deep inside Thomas.

  More than ever he wished Jesse would wake up. Tell them the truth. Set this all straight. But he knew God would take care of things in His time, not Thomas’s.

  Darcy had spent the day at his home, working inside with his grandmother. He had stayed away, mostly getting his own work done. But he knew that it was about time for Abigail to come and pick her up. Where would she go? Would she stay another night at Abigail’s? Had she heard anything from Chief McClendon? Had she decided to accept the US Marshal’s offer to relocate her?

  Thomas was anxious to hear something from Elijah and his friend at the FBI. But as Elijah always told him, calling in these types of favors took time and it hadn’t even been twenty-four hours. He was glad he had work to keep him busy.

  Thomas grabbed a tiny halter and took a filly out of the large pen away from her mother. She didn’t like that too much but the youngling would have to learn.

  He led her down the aisle, slowly but firmly, as he whispered sweet words to her. Calming words.

  “You’d make a good father.” Darcy’s voice sounded from the front doors of the stable. “But isn’t she a bit young to take from her mother?”

  “No, this is good for her. She has to learn to trust humans.” Thomas turned and smiled. He was glad she’d come to the stable. In fact, he had hoped that she would. With his closeness to her over the past couple of days, he had begun to grow attached to her in some capacity. It was silly. A fleeting emotion, probably born out of his loyalty to Jesse. Nothing to linger his thoughts over. He smiled at her. “What have you and Nana been up to?”

  “Sewing,” she answered.

  “You can sew?” He had not expected that. Even though she had said she worked in fashion, he had pictured her in an office, in meetings, surrounded by models and designers, not behind
a sewing machine.

  “Yes, how do you think one designs clothing if one can’t sew?” Her gray eyes looked up at him.

  She had a playful smirk on her face. He had to stop himself from staring at her, focusing his attention on the filly.

  “So do you do this every day with her? Get her used to people?”

  “Not every day,” he said. “Not yet.”

  Darcy walked up beside him and reached her hand out to the baby’s muzzle. The filly sniffed around her fingers then nipped at them. Darcy squealed and let out a little laugh. “She’s going to bite me.”

  “Maybe.” He laughed back. “But I don’t think so. I think she likes you.”

  Their eyes locked for a moment. “Come. It’s time to return her to her mother.”

  “Thomas, can I ask you something?”

  “Sure. I’ve certainly asked you enough questions.” He walked the filly to the enclosed pen with her mother.

  Darcy was silent. He looked back at her to find a grim look on her face.

  “Well, it’s none of my business really...” She hesitated. “But I was just wondering, because Abigail told me that you...”

  “She told you that I what?”

  “That you were married once.” She looked down and away.

  “Is it so hard to believe—that someone would marry me?” He couldn’t stop the wide smile that spread over his face and he laughed.

  She looked up with wide eyes, her lips quickly spreading into grin that was laced with relief. “No. Not at all. I’m sorry. That’s not what I meant.”

  “I know.” He looked down at her and stepped close.

  “Like I said, it’s really none of my business. I didn’t mean to be disrespectful but... I was curious.”

  “It’s okay. It is a good question.” He got control of his laughter and suddenly became serious again. “I was married. But it was a long time ago.”

  “What happened?”

  “Cancer.”

  Darcy closed her eyes. “Oh—oh, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”

  She started to turn away, but Thomas didn’t want her to leave. He reached out and grabbed her gently by the wrist. “Don’t be sorry. As I said, it was a long time ago. All is as God planned.”

  “You really believe that?”

  “I do. Do you doubt it?”

  “I don’t know. I guess I never really thought about it. About God.” She pulled back from him. “So what’s up with the beard? I thought a beard meant that you are married?”

  She had changed the subject away from the topic of faith. Thomas didn’t press her. God would open her eyes in His time. If she wanted to talk, God would provide the moments. He didn’t have to force them.

  “Ach. So you do not like my Amish beard?” He laughed out loud again. “It is different, no? Without the mustache?”

  “Yes, it’s very different.”

  “Once married it is custom to keep the beard. And frankly it’s easier than shaving all of it every day.”

  “Doesn’t look like you have all that much to shave,” she teased.

  “That is true. Just like my datt.”

  “You must miss him.”

  He missed them all—all those that he’d lost. It was something he and Jesse had always had in common—loss. “Like Jesse missed your mother—and, I guess, you, too. He didn’t tell me about you but as I said before, he used to talk about your mother.

  “Her name was Margaret, right? He really loved her. A lot of Amish ladies have tried to catch his eye over the years, but Jesse was true to his one love. And to you.”

  “What do you mean?” Darcy felt like no one was true to her and especially not Jesse.

  Thomas shrugged. “Just that he gave you up to keep you safe. Giving up a child—that’s a sacrifice no parent wants to make. I think that may have been part of the reason he never tried to make a new family for himself.”

  “I’m not sure how I feel about it all. He wanted to protect me...but he left me. I should be so angry. But, mostly, I’m just confused. Why did he do those things? Why would he do those things?”

  “I don’t know.” Thomas could almost see the battle within her. The struggle to love a man who should have protected her, raised her, loved her, but who made decisions that prevented him from being in her life at all.

  “And how did they find us?”

  “I don’t know that, either. But I suppose secrets are only as secret as the people who keep them.”

  “Who do you mean... Do you mean Jesse?” Darcy tilted her head.

  “No. I mean the government. WITSEC should be safe. But I guess there can be corrupt people anywhere.”

  She took a minute to process that. Then she said, “Thomas, what am I going to do?”

  Thomas paused, pressing his lips together. He wanted answers, too. He couldn’t stand seeing the pain and fear in her. He wished Elijah would call with news. “Trust in God.”

  “Easy for you to say. You don’t have people trying to...” She touched her hands to her head. “My head is starting to hurt. I think I need to sit down for a while.”

  “I’ll walk you back to the house.”

  * * *

  Darcy closed her eyes. She needed rest. And though she had enjoyed her time with the spirited Amish woman, spending the day with Nana Ruth hadn’t provided her with much downtime. Only those few minutes in the stable with Thomas had made her forget about the problems in her life. But even that had ended when Thomas began speaking of her mother. It seemed he’d heard more about her than she had. Her grandparents had rarely spoken about their daughter, saying they found the memories too painful.

  It was late afternoon now—almost time to go. But go where? Where could she go that would be safe? She felt safe at Thomas’s home, but she couldn’t stay there.

  She could feel him so close to her as they walked back across the yard and to his house.

  “Darcy...” He stopped her with a hand to her shoulder.

  She turned and slowly looked up. She was so tired and he was so...so handsome. And kind. And strong. It was his strength that was most appealing.

  “What is it?”

  “Well, I do not know why, but I cannot stop thinking about that Agent Danvers from the US Marshals.”

  “Me, either. She was sort of unforgettable.” The reminder of her looming decision hovered in the air.

  “No. It was something she said. Something she asked you that I keep thinking about.”

  “About my relocation? About your neighbor being a big phony?”

  “No, Darcy.” There was disappointment in his eyes.

  She dropped her head. She shouldn’t have said that about Jesse—not to Thomas, who cared for the man so deeply.

  “It was her question about what Jesse gave you.”

  “Yeah, well, he didn’t give me anything of value. I looked at the locket. It’s silver plated. It’s not valuable to anyone except me.”

  “But what if what Jesse gave you wasn’t actual valuables, but information?”

  “Information? But he didn’t tell me anything, either. Not even that we were in witness protection. He said very little about the past. We just talked about our lives now...and mostly we talked about me.”

  “But he sent you letters?”

  “Yes, but there wasn’t anything special in them.”

  “Do you still have them?”

  “Yes, they’re at home. But I’m telling you, there’s nothing special about—” Darcy stopped as she heard the faint pulsing of her phone on vibrate.

  She pulled the phone out of her jacket with trembling fingers. “I don’t want to answer it.”

  “But you should. We need to know what the caller wants if we’re going to keep you safe. Remember the po
lice are tracing your calls.”

  “You answer it then.” She held the phone out to him. Thomas pressed the screen to answer the call.

  “Hello.”

  The line went dead.

  NINE

  “You think it was the same person that called before?” Darcy asked later that evening, as she drank a cup of tea with Thomas and Nana while waiting for Abigail. Nana had brewed it to help calm her nerves, but so far the tea had done little to help her mind settle.

  Thomas shrugged. “I don’t know but whoever it was didn’t want to talk to me.”

  Maybe, Darcy thought, unsure whether or not she should be grateful that the call had ended before it had really begun. On the one hand, they needed all the information they could get. But on the other hand, she couldn’t take hearing that horrible distorted voice again.

  “I’m sure Abigail will be along any minute now,” said Thomas. “Where are you planning to stay tonight?”

  “You can stay in Dawdi house with me,” offered Nana.

  Darcy’s eyes shot over to Thomas. By the way he was looking at his grandmother, she guessed he wasn’t too keen on that idea. Neither was she.

  “I need a change of clothes, so I thought first I’d drive home,” she said, hoping that would be good enough for Nana. But it wasn’t.

  “Well, you can’t do that all by yourself,” Nana said. “If these men know who you are, they might know where you live. Thomas, you’ll have to go with her. And then if you’re not going to stay with us or with Abigail, then you’ll just have to spend the night with the Millers.”

  “Or at the B and B,” Thomas offered. “And I’d be mighty obliged if after we gather your things at your home, you would drive me to the hospital. I would like to visit with Uncle Jesse for a bit.”

  While Darcy turned the idea over in her mind, Thomas stood and walked to the back door. “Here’s Abigail now,” he said, “and another car following her.”