Lancaster County Reckoning

by Kit Wilkinson

  “Do you think anything is missing?” Thomas queried as he walked into her room. “I know you’ve been asked that a million times tonight, but Elijah says it’s really important and I figured maybe now you’ve had a chance to look around.”

  “It’s a mess, but I don’t really notice that anything is gone. Certainly not any of the things a thief would usually target, like my computer or TV.” Darcy blinked and concentrated on his question. “But you’re asking about the things that Jesse gave me?”

  He shrugged. “You were going to look for the letters.”

  “Right.” She reached around her neck. The locket was still there. “The letters would be in the front hall. I kept them in a basket.”

  He followed her to the foyer. The basket had been toppled. Some of its contents were on the floor. But no letters. Darcy crouched and looked around.

  “Allow me.” Thomas swept the floor with his big arms. He pulled up a few bills, some junk mail and a magazine. But none of Jesse’s letters.

  She opened the drawer to the console table. Empty.

  “They’re gone. All of the letters Jesse wrote to me are gone.”

  ELEVEN

  Darcy slept all the way back to Lancaster County. Thomas was glad for that. After what she’d been through, she deserved the chance to rest a bit, surrounded by people who made her feel safe. He only hoped they wouldn’t let her down.

  Elijah was on and off the phone, talking to McClendon and to his agent friend at the FBI. The more Thomas overheard the conversations, the more he worried.

  Elijah had suggested that Darcy leave both her phone and her car behind. There could be a tracking device on the car, to say nothing of the ways to trace an unencrypted phone. Darcy had readily agreed. Thomas had her cancel her reservation at the Willow Trace Bed-and-Breakfast. For this night, she would sleep again at the clinic. Blake truly did want to reexamine her head injury in the morning. It was a needed precaution after she’d fallen again. But after that, what would or should they do?

  “Where are we?” she said, half waking up.

  “Almost to the clinic,” Thomas said.

  Abigail came out to Blake’s truck and helped to escort Darcy back to the guest room.

  “She’s changing,” Abigail said, returning to the kitchen, where Thomas, Elijah and Blake sat discussing the evening.

  “I’m glad she’s safe,” Thomas said.

  “She wanted to know if she could visit Jesse tomorrow. I didn’t know what to tell her,” Abigail said.

  “I don’t know if she should go anywhere,” Elijah said. “At least, not as Darcy Simmons.”

  “You think she should go with Agent Danvers, take on a new identity somewhere else?” Thomas felt his blood pressure rise. How could Elijah suggest such a thing?

  “No. I don’t,” Elijah said.

  That was a relief, Thomas thought. “So your solution is just to keep her inside until all of this is over?”

  “No, I don’t even know if that would be enough,” Elijah admitted. “If Wissenberg was able to find Jesse and Darcy once, what’s to stop him from finding her again? Staying home wasn’t enough to protect Jesse.”

  “So, you have a better idea?” Abigail lifted her eyebrows at her brother.

  Elijah grinned. “Of course I do. But I don’t know if Darcy will agree to it.”

  * * *

  “You want me to do what?” Darcy could feel her eyes practically popping out of their sockets. It seemed Elijah had come up with an interesting idea to keep her safe while she had been changing her clothes. He was now sharing the plan with all of them as they sat around Abigail’s kitchen table. Darcy, stunned, had had to ask him to repeat it again.

  “It’s called hiding in plain sight,” Elijah explained. “It’s just for a few days.”

  “No. I can’t do that,” Darcy shook her head. She could not—would not—do what they were asking. “I’ve already depended on you way more than is fair to you. It’s not your job to keep protecting me.”

  “Well, we kind of think it is,” Thomas said. “It is for Jesse. You’re his daughter after all.”

  “I don’t know.” Darcy tried to come up with a good alternative plan. But what could she do? Call Danvers? Stay with a friend in town and put them in danger? Stay in a hotel? Run away?

  She didn’t like any of those options, either.

  “Do you really think it will hide me? These people know what I look like,” she said. “They got a pretty good look at me at Jesse’s yesterday.”

  “Yes, but in your Englisch clothes. In those you’re pretty easy to identify. If you dress Amish, you will blend in with us. From a distance or in a crowd of other Amish, you’ll be pretty tough to spot. They won’t be looking for you in a frock. And like I said, it’s just for a few days.”

  “What’s going to change in a few days?”

  “Hopefully Jesse will wake up,” said Thomas. “And while we are waiting, we are going to comb through Jesse’s cottage and find any and every clue we can. There could be something in his cottage from his past. Something besides pictures.”

  Darcy didn’t like the idea of dressing Amish and staying with Elijah and Hannah, putting them in danger. In fact, she hated the idea. But she did not have a better one, and she could see the logic in the decision. Elijah was a former policeman, able to take care of himself and trained in providing protection. Hannah was aware of the danger and had agreed to this. Hiding with the Amish would let her stay close to Jesse and help search for answers while keeping her hidden.

  “Okay, then,” Darcy said. “I hope you’re good at makeovers.”

  * * *

  “I can’t do this.” Darcy leaned into Abigail’s mirror. “Look at me. I look ridiculous. I feel ridiculous.”

  After a morning shower, Abigail had helped Darcy get into her Amish costume—blouse, frock and kapp. Her bandage was gone and with her hair parted straight down the middle, the stitches were barely visible.

  Abigail smiled at her. “Actually, you make me a little homesick. I mean I didn’t really leave home, but when I made the choice not to be baptized, I left that lifestyle behind. But before that, I’d dressed like that my whole life. You look like home to me. I think you look beautiful.”

  Darcy looked to Abigail with an apologetic frown. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

  “No, no, no.” Abigail walked over to her and tied her kapp in a loose bow, leaving the straps to hang to her chest.

  She looked again at herself in the mirror. They were right. She would be hard to recognize. She wasn’t even sure she recognized herself. “It feels like a costume.”

  “I understand. It’s not what you’re used to. But trust me, you look just fine. And this will keep you safe until my brother and Thomas work this all out.”

  “You sound pretty confident in their abilities.” Darcy wanted to believe her, but she had little hope. “You really think they can solve a mystery that has endured over two decades?”

  “Anyone can if they look in the right places. There are always signs around us that lead to the truth.”

  “I hope you’re right,” Darcy said. “Okay, tell me what to do. What do I say when people talk to me?”

  “Just be yourself. Remember, we are not people who ask a lot of questions.”

  “Right.”

  “And be useful, wherever you can,” Abigail advised.

  “But I can’t cook. I know nothing about horses and farms. And I really know nothing about God.”

  Darcy knew she had just a few minutes before it was time to go to the Millers’.

  Why was she so nervous? Everyone was there to help her through this. Still, she could feel her heart pounding and her palms sweating.

  What if her presence brought harm to these good people? What if Jesse di
dn’t wake up? What if she never discovered the truth and she would have to leave and start her life anew?

  “God loves you, as He loves all of us. And when we do His will, we know Him. This will be a good time for you, Darcy. I am sure of it. We should go now.”

  Darcy closed her eyes. How was she going to get through this?

  Abigail put her arm around Darcy’s shoulder and began to lead her toward the front of the clinic. It was time to go.

  “Don’t worry. All will be well, Darcy.”

  * * *

  At the designated time, Thomas drove his horse and buggy over to the clinic to pick up the Millers’ new houseguest. Thomas had offered to pick her up since it seemed everyone else was busy. Elijah had business with his father. The women were all excited to show off their great cooking to Darcy. Nana had even gotten up early and headed to the market with the bishop’s wife in order to get extra provisions for the evening meal. Thomas was glad that he and Nana had been invited to dinner, too. He wanted to keep an eye on Darcy as much as possible. He was very glad she’d decided to accept Elijah’s plan and he was happy to drive her to the Millers’.

  Thomas pulled Sadie up in front of the clinic and hitched her to the post. He paced across the front porch, sweating slightly despite the cold winter air. The morning sun peeked occasionally through a fluffy band of clouds headed north and east. The year’s first snowfall would be upon them soon.

  When Abigail appeared at the front door, Thomas wiped his palms against the front of his trousers. Darcy was standing behind her wearing one of Abigail’s old dresses.

  “I know,” Darcy said. “I look so—so...”

  “Plain.” Thomas was careful not to stare but it was hard. It was strange to see her in plain clothing. He could only imagine how strange it must have felt to her.

  “She worked on it all morning,” Abigail said. “My clothes were way too big for her. She’s pretty handy with a needle and thread.”

  “So I’ve already heard,” Thomas said, daring to look up again at Darcy. She wore a dark gray frock that accented the color of her big eyes. Over the dress was a neatly pressed black apron. On her feet she wore a pair of old leather lace-up boots.

  She laughed and pointed to her head. “I don’t think I’ve parted my hair down the middle since I was in the first grade.”

  She hardly looked like a first grader, Thomas thought. “It suits you. Not a trace of Englisch about you now.”

  Darcy looked desperately to Abigail. “What? What does that mean?”

  “Englisch are what the Amish call everyone who’s not Amish.” Abigail showed Thomas to Darcy’s bag before giving Darcy a reassuring hug. “Just relax and enjoy your time with the Millers.”

  Darcy flushed. The creaminess of her complexion highlighted her dark eyes and high cheekbones more than any store-bought makeup could have. He swallowed hard and looked away, while Darcy thanked Abigail for her help.

  “Remember, Thomas, she still needs to take it easy,” Abigail said, then looked to Darcy. “If you get the least bit dizzy, stop what you’re doing and give me a call.”

  Darcy nodded.

  Abigail gave her one more reassuring glance then waved goodbye from the front porch.

  “Well, then,” he said. “I suppose we should get going. Hannah is anxious to see you.”

  She followed him out to the vehicle. He gave her a hand into the front seat. “My first time in a horse-drawn buggy.”

  “It’s a little chilly today,” he noted as he untied Sadie and climbed into the driver’s seat. “You’re gonna want this blanket.” He reached into the back and handed her the thick wool coverlet that he kept there for the cold days.

  He gave Sadie a tap with the reins and the mare took off onto the highway. Darcy was quiet at first, fidgeting with her hands. Then she tucked the blanket around herself tighter.

  “You weren’t kidding,” she said as she shivered. “It’s cold.”

  Thomas passed the reins to her. “Here. Take them.”

  “What? I don’t—”

  “One second. Just hold them.”

  Reluctantly, she took the long leather straps into her hands.

  Thomas waited another second, then he took off his coat and placed it around Darcy’s shoulders.

  He wasn’t sure, but he thought he saw a few tears in her eyes.

  “Thank you. Thank you for everything you’re doing for me.”

  Thomas took the reins back into his left hand. Then he took his right arm and placed it around Darcy’s torso. He pulled her next to him on the bench.

  “This way I can stay warm, too,” he said, but that wasn’t the only reason he wanted her close.

  Darcy was the one to protect, but Thomas knew if he wasn’t careful with his heart, he was going to be in more danger than Darcy. Just a different sort of danger.

  TWELVE

  It was a whole other perspective of the Amish countryside, seeing it from inside Thomas’s buggy. The clippity-clop of the horse’s beat. The cold air. The smell of the outdoors, fresh and wild and clean. And Thomas, so close beside her. Darcy watched him tap the reins on the back of his horse. “What’s he like?”

  “Who? Jesse?” Thomas asked.

  “Yes, I mean more like what does he do? What did he do for a living?” she said.

  “Well, when he first came here, he secured a job at Millers’ Furniture immediately.”

  “As in Elijah Miller?”

  “His father, the bishop, owns an Amish furniture-making business.”

  “What did Jesse do there?”

  “He made and designed furniture.”

  Darcy swallowed hard. Her father was so interesting and it was fascinating to discover that she shared some of his interests. She loved art and design. He loved art and design. Maybe it was a silly thing to cling to. But she’d lived her whole life knowing nothing, so now every little thing she heard, she couldn’t help but try to relate to herself in some way.

  “Yes. He was really good at it. He made all of the furniture in his cottage,” Thomas said.

  “It’s beautiful. He must have done well.”

  “He did but he quit and went to work for my father after a while,” Thomas said.

  “Why?”

  “He got a little too creative. He varied too much from the traditional Amish style. Too much detail. Too fancy. So Bishop Miller couldn’t sell what he made in his store. Jesse considered selling through other vendors, but being a part of the community was more important to him than his gifts and skill with wood. So he apprenticed as a farrier with my father and he became one of the best in the county.”

  “My dad worked with horses?”

  “Yes, still does. He stays busy, too. All the Amish buggy horses have shoes.”

  “It’s a shame about the letters,” she said.

  “Well, at least you still have your locket.”

  “Yes, Abigail said it would be okay to wear it as long as I keep it under the dress.”

  He nodded. “You know... Jesse’s going to wake up.”

  “How do you know?” He seemed so sure.

  “I don’t. I just hope and I pray.”

  “And God answers your prayers?”

  “Always. It’s not always the answer I was hoping for. Sometimes it’s even better.” Thomas cleared his throat. “Do you think there was anything in the letters that could be useful? Can you remember?”

  “I don’t think so.” Darcy thought hard, trying to remember the contents. “But I was so overwhelmed by the whole idea of having a father who was alive that I might have missed something.”

  Thomas took off his hat and ran his hand through his dark curls. “I have a hard time believing that Jesse would have done anything purposely to put you in harm’s way. Most likely,
he had no idea that Wissenberg was going to get out of prison so soon.”

  “Do you think it’s possible that Jesse really has millions of dollars’ worth of stolen artwork hidden away somewhere?”

  “I don’t want to believe it,” Thomas said. “But all these attacks would seem to prove that Wissenberg is convinced.”

  Darcy hated that. She hated thinking that her dad was a selfish crook, hiding away art instead of returning it to the rightful owners.

  “Do you think it’s worth going back over to the cottage to see if anything is there that the police didn’t find?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe.” Thomas looked up. “That’s the Miller house up ahead.”

  A gray farmhouse came into view. Unlike Thomas’s home, the stable was a long distance from the house and much smaller. Hannah met her at the door holding a six-to nine-month-old baby boy in her arms.

  “Where was this fellow the other day?” Darcy asked.

  “With my mother-in-law,” Hannah said. “Please come in and let me show you to your room. I’ve been instructed that you need a lot of rest.”

  Darcy nodded. She had to admit she was tired. She said goodbye to Thomas and followed Hannah through the house. It was an old place, with low ceilings and tiny rooms. “This house must have been built before the Civil War.”

  “Before the Revolutionary War.” Hannah laughed. “It’s been in the Miller family for a long time.”

  “It’s charming,” Darcy said. And it was, in its own way. The Miller family had done well to preserve the old wood and trim. And it was surprisingly warm.

  “You’ll be in here.” Hannah showed her a small bedroom that had little more in it than a single bed, a wooden table with a lantern and a chair. “Please rest up and I’ll call you for lunch.”