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Lancaster County Reckoning

Page 10

by Kit Wilkinson


  Darcy went inside. Hannah closed the door behind her. As grateful as she was for a safe place to stay, a big part of her wanted to put her own clothes back on and reclaim her life. But that wasn’t an option just now, so she gave in to her other temptation. She lay down and slept.

  * * *

  Thomas hoped Darcy would get some rest. He knew Hannah would take good care of her, as would Elijah and the bishop. So why did he not like leaving? He would be back for dinner, he reminded himself.

  As Sadie trotted thought the forest, Thomas couldn’t help but think about the drive over to the Millers’. In fact, he thought over everything that had transpired recently. To think that it was just several days ago when he was riding to Jesse’s to take a look at his well. It seemed like decades had passed.

  Jesse’s well. Come to think of it, he never had taken a look at it. He would have to do that before Jesse came back home from the hospital. Just thinking of Jesse filled Thomas with a powerful urge to see his friend. Thomas had chores to do but nothing that couldn’t wait. Instead of driving Sadie back home, he went to the hospital and sat with Jesse. He’d been there for a few minutes when the quiet was interrupted by a voice from the doorway.

  “So where is she?”

  Thomas turned around to find Agent Danvers. She was wearing the same dark US Marshals coat and sporting the same spiky hairdo. “Where is who? Miss Simmons?”

  “Yes, Miss Simmons.” The agent crossed her arms over her chest and widened her stance. “Who else?”

  “Why would you think I might know where Miss Simmons is?” He turned his back to her and looked down at Jesse, lying there helpless in the hospital bed.

  “The two of you have seemed inseparable,” Danvers snarled.

  “She’s not with me now,” Thomas answered.

  “I know you know where she is,” Danvers accused as she stepped into the room.

  Thomas struggled to control his temper. He really didn’t like this woman. “I do know where she is. And I know that she is safe. That’s all you need to know, as well.”

  Thomas stood. He turned around and headed out of the small room, forcing the agent to move backward.

  “I’ll just follow you,” she said, as he walked past.

  “It’s a free country,” Thomas replied over his shoulder as he walked on.

  “You can’t keep her safe, farmer boy,” she yelled after him.

  Turn the other cheek. Turn the other cheek, Thomas repeated in his mind. Danvers’s behavior had crossed the line. But he walked on in silence. In a way, he hoped she did follow him. He was headed straight to Jesse’s cottage and if she trailed him there, he would call Chief McClendon and whoever else he needed to put an end to her bullying.

  Still, as he left the hospital, her words rang over and over through his head. Mostly because he feared that she was right.

  He couldn’t keep her safe. He was just a farmer.

  * * *

  Thomas drove his buggy down the highway, more determined than ever to help Darcy and Jesse. He reached for his phone.

  “How is she?” he asked Elijah.

  “She’s been sleeping all day,” his friend said. “Hannah’s been checking on her regularly. She took her some stew for lunch. She’s fine.”

  “I saw Danvers at the hospital. She threatened to follow me. She wants Darcy.”

  Elijah was silent for a moment. “Where are you now?”

  “I’m heading home, but I’m going to stop by Uncle Jesse’s first. It looks like snow and I just want to at least turn off his water so that he doesn’t come home to a burst pipe.”

  “I’ll meet you there. You shouldn’t go there alone.”

  “I’ll be fine. You stay with Darcy. I’ll see you at dinner.”

  Thomas felt exposed as he pulled up to Jesse’s cottage. But he reminded himself that Darcy was safely tucked away at the Millers’ and that he was just there to turn off the water and take a peek at the well.

  He parked his buggy at the house. As the wind whipped across the open hills, Thomas pulled his coat collar up around his neck. It was definitely going to freeze tonight. He walked around to the back of the building, removed the side panel, which led to under the house, reached in and turned off the main.

  Sadie whinnied and snorted at the front of the house. Was someone there? Thomas’s thoughts flashed back to the past few days. Maybe Elijah was right. He shouldn’t have come there alone.

  No. Thomas shook away his fear. If the Lord is for us then who can be against us? Romans 8:31

  Thomas scanned the fields. He saw nothing but he distinctly felt as if someone was nearby. Someone was watching him. Had Agent Danvers really followed him? Or was he just being paranoid?

  He headed to the well. He slid off the lid and looked down inside. Everything seemed to be in order. Thomas was ready to slide the lid back over when his eyes spotted a little box attached to the inside wall.

  What was that?

  Thomas reached inside and unhitched the box. He tried to open it but the little box was locked. Thomas took it back to the buggy and headed home. Whatever was in the little chest was sealed up tight. Maybe he could open it later with tools.

  Was this what Jesse had called him over for? Did Jesse know it was there? Did it have anything to do with Wissenberg and the missing art?

  Thomas didn’t know, but as the buggy entered the woods, he was sure that someone was watching him.

  THIRTEEN

  “Darcy?”

  There was knocking. Someone was at the door. But Darcy could barely focus. Her head was clouded with sleep.

  “Darcy? Time for supper. Everyone is here.”

  What? Supper?

  The voice had an accent that was both strange and familiar. Where was she? Darcy blinked her eyes open. She was enveloped in darkness. What time was is? She sat up. This was not her bed.

  “Darcy? Are you awake?”

  It was Hannah. She was at the Millers’ home. In the middle of Amish country. Dressed like she was Amish. She put a hand to her head. Her hair was still pulled tight at the base of her neck.

  “Yes, I’m awake. Barely.” She swung her feet around to the floor.

  “Let me come in and light the lantern for you,” Hannah offered.

  The auburn-haired Amish woman floated across the old wooden floor and grabbed something off the table. Soon the tiny room filled with a soft yellow glow.

  “To the left is the bathroom,” she said. “If you’d like to wash up before dinner.”

  She turned back to the door but paused before leaving. “Darcy? Are you okay?”

  Was she okay?

  “I’m fine. I’m just a little disoriented,” Darcy said. “You know how it is after a deep sleep.”

  Hannah nodded. “Thomas is here. He has something for you.”

  Darcy rubbed her eyes, still foggy from sleep. Thomas. She’d dreamed of him—of his brown eyes and his wide smile. She’d dreamed of his soft, deep voice and the weight of his arm around her shoulder. He had something for her?

  Darcy shook her head. She was awake now and remembering everything that had happened over the past few days. She hoped whatever Thomas had was what they needed to end all of this, so that she could go home. She needed to get out of here. Back to her life. Back into her clothes. And away from Thomas and his big brown eyes. Thomas could never be interested in someone Englisch. And she shouldn’t be interested in someone Amish. She didn’t even know how to pray. How could she fall for a person whose whole life revolved around faith? How could that ever work?

  It couldn’t.

  * * *

  “It was in Jesse’s well.” Thomas handed the small wooden box to Darcy. He had stayed behind with her in the Millers’ kitchen so that he could give it to her without so many oth
ers around. He had no idea what was inside. Maybe nothing of importance. But the more he had thought about it, the more Thomas had decided that it might not have been a coincidence that Jesse had asked him to come over “to look at the well” at the same time as he’d been expecting Darcy.

  Then again, he was probably just overthinking it all in the hope that he would find answers.

  “It’s a nice box.” She took it from his hands. “You found it inside Jesse’s well?”

  “Ja. I just went by there to turn off the water so the pipes don’t freeze tonight and I remembered that the day I met you, he had asked me to come look at the well. So I thought I might as well have a look at it. And I found this.”

  “It looks handmade.” She turned the box over in her hands, touching the complicated pattern of inlays.

  “I’m sure Jesse made it.”

  “It’s beautiful, but why did you bring it to me?”

  Why had he brought it to her? Thomas felt heat rise to his cheeks. “I started to open it at home with tools, but I knew that might ruin it. And I wanted you to see it before that, since we had been talking about his craftsmanship.”

  But that wasn’t the only reason why he’d waited. It had also been an excuse to spend a moment with Darcy. An excuse to speak with her again. “Plus, it just seemed wrong to open it up without you.”

  “Speaking of opening it,” she said. “How are we going to do that? It’s locked up. Looks like it needs a key.”

  Thomas took the box back from her, his hand lingering maybe a moment too long as his fingers grazed over hers in the exchange.

  “See these inlays?”

  She nodded.

  “These are the reason that Jesse’s furniture could not be sold as Amish.”

  Thomas turned the box over in his hands, touching each one of the inlays. “Once Jesse told me that fancy things were just a way for the Englisch to hide the real truth in their life.”

  He used his fingernail to pry at each of the inlays. One of the pieces popped out with ease.

  Darcy picked up the block of polished wood and turned it over. Inside was a tiny key.

  “You do the honors, please,” Thomas said.

  “Okay.” She smiled and placed the key delicately into the box lock. It opened on the first try. Slowly, Darcy lifted the lid.

  “It’s pictures. Old Polaroids.”

  Thomas put the box down on the table and held the lid back. Darcy reached in and pulled out the stack of photos.

  “Oh, my,” she said, turning through them one after the other. “They’re pictures of paintings. Really nice paintings.”

  “There’s something written on the back of each photo, too.”

  She flipped the pictures over one at a time. “Phelps. Thurston. Davies. Beauchamps. Geigenhaus...”

  “Could those be the names of the artists?” Thomas mused.

  “I don’t know.” She shook her head back and forth, her eyes wide with excitement. “But are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

  Thomas nodded. “That this could be the missing art everyone is hoping to find...or at least pictures of it.”

  “Exactly!” Darcy stared up at him. “I don’t know whether to be happy or sad at finding this.”

  Thomas wanted to hug her and comfort her through the disappointment she was feeling in finding yet another clue that shed more suspicion over Jesse. He felt it, too. “I think we can be thankful for more information. In any case, we don’t know what these mean. Not yet anyway.”

  She nodded. “I guess we should call the police. Again.”

  * * *

  After dinner, Chief McClendon and another man named Agent Frank Ross of the FBI sat with Thomas, Elijah and Darcy at the Millers’ kitchen table. The FBI agent was a small man in his late forties, dressed informally in jeans, a T-shirt and a big blue jacket that said FBI in huge yellow letters. He looked at each of the pictures quickly then scanned them into a tiny handheld scanner, which was hooked up to his laptop.

  After each photo he was able to quickly identify the painting. “This is Sunny Day by the artist Florence Ko. Stolen from Mrs. Deveraux of McClain, Virginia, twenty-five years ago. Never recovered.”

  “Deveraux is the name written on the back of the photo,” Darcy said.

  Elijah stood from the table and began to pace. “There are fifteen photos. Fifteen stolen paintings. None of them were ever recovered. Jesse clearly had them in his possession at one point, and kept a record of them all. But why?”

  Thomas fidgeted with the empty box that had contained the photos. He hated how guilty all this made Jesse seem. Why had he had these paintings? Why had he kept pictures of them? And why had he asked him to come and look at the well? Jesse would have known that Thomas would have spotted the box. Jesse must have wanted him to find it or to retrieve it for him. But why?

  The FBI agent pushed his equipment aside and cleared his throat. “The good news is that the statute of limitations would be in effect for all of this stolen property. So Jesse cannot be tried for possession of these, if indeed he does have the actual works. But honestly, there is no evidence of that here. It seems likely that he took these pictures a long time ago, and that the artwork was in his possession when he did so, but we can’t know that for sure. It doesn’t mean he has the paintings now. These photos don’t prove anything except that Jesse knew whom the artwork was stolen from.”

  “And why would a thief care about that?” McClendon asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

  Jesse was far more than just a thief, Thomas thought to himself. Thomas refused to believe that until the day that Jesse told him otherwise. Maybe he was blinded by his love for the old man. But better that than thinking so single-mindedly.

  “He wanted to remember who the works belonged to,” Thomas said. “You’re right. I wouldn’t think your everyday thief would care about knowing that. In fact, he’d probably want to forget whom he stole from. But Jesse wanted to remember, because...”

  “Because he wanted to return them?” Darcy suggested hopefully.

  Thomas looked across the table at her and smiled. She didn’t want to think badly of her father, either.

  “That’s really irrelevant,” Elijah said. “What we need to know is where Jesse put the actual paintings. Did he pass them on to another party? Maybe he sold them?”

  “First thing tomorrow, I’m sending a small investigative team to Jesse’s cottage,” said Agent Ross.

  “We’ve already had a team there,” said McClendon.

  “Yes, but they were investigating a break-in and a beating,” said Elijah. “Agent Ross is right. We have a lot more information now. A new search will be much more focused.”

  “Could Elijah and I be there?” asked Thomas.

  “Me, too?” said Darcy.

  “Is that a good idea?” Thomas said. “I mean, is that safe?”

  Agent Ross collected his things from the table. “I can’t think of a safer place for her to be than surrounded by a crew of FBI agents. Right?”

  Right. But why did Thomas still feel like it was a bad idea? He kept his mouth closed. Darcy looked happier than she had all evening.

  “Okay, see you bright and early tomorrow.” Agent Ross took his leave.

  McClendon followed.

  Thomas called Nana and they, too, headed out into the night to make their way home.

  Again, he felt as if someone was watching him.

  You can’t keep her safe, farmer boy.

  FOURTEEN

  The new search at Jesse’s had turned up nothing. And to make matters worse, Blake had called with the news that Jesse’s stats had taken a slight turn for the worse.

  The Elders would soon have to decide how long they would keep Jesse on life support.

  “What will hap
pen to all of this beautiful furniture if Jesse...” Darcy looked around at the cottage and all the pieces inside it that her father had made.

  Thomas swallowed hard. “If Jesse passes? Normally it would all be auctioned or go to families in need, but I suppose now it could all go to you. You’d have to speak with the Elders about that. They make those sorts of decisions. But, Darcy, Jesse may pull through yet. Have a little faith.”

  Elijah came into the room. “The FBI team is heading out. And I have to go, as well. My father called and he needs help with a delivery. Thomas, is Nana still hosting that barn singing tonight?”

  “Ja. As far as I know,” Thomas answered.

  “Barn singing?” Darcy asked. “What’s that?”

  “It’s a social meeting for the young folk,” Thomas said to Darcy then turned to Elijah. “You’re coming, aren’t you?”

  “Of course, I think my dad still has the buggy with all the benches so we will be there early. Though that’s a lot of buggy riding for Miss Simmons—riding all the way home with me now and then heading back this way later.”

  “Darcy can come spend the afternoon with us,” Thomas offered. “Stay for the singing and ride home with you and Hannah? If that’s okay with her?”

  “Sure,” she said.

  Darcy was actually relieved. She liked the Millers and was more than grateful for their hospitality, but she felt like an imposition. She should probably feel that way about going to the Nolts’ home, but with Thomas and Nana, it just didn’t seem as awkward.

  “Okay, then. We will see you later. I’m sorry this didn’t pan out today, Darcy. But we just have to keep thinking.” Elijah turned and was gone.

  The house cleared out quickly, leaving Darcy and Thomas alone to close up.

  “We should get going,” Thomas said. “Nana is going to love having you over today. And there will be a lot to do to get ready for the singing.”

  “And what about you?” she asked. “I hope you don’t mind my being there. Elijah didn’t really leave you much of a choice.”

  Thomas grinned slightly, but he wouldn’t look up to meet her eye. “You will always be welcome in my home, Darcy.”

 

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