Lancaster County Reckoning

by Kit Wilkinson

  “How are you holding up?” Thomas appeared at the side of the buggy.

  Darcy nearly jumped from her skin. She had not seen him walk over. “I’m fine.”

  “We can go home now.” He climbed into the buggy beside her and pulled up the brake. His leg brushed against hers and the contact sent a shiver up her spine. She scooted over an inch to make more room for him.

  With a couple of clicking sounds and a light tap of the long leather reins, his horse set off in a fast high-stepping trot.

  “How’s the leg?” she asked.

  “It’s nothing. I’ve had worse from falling off a horse.” The warm sound of his voice resonated deep inside her.

  “When we get home, Nana can you fix a hot bath. She also makes the best apple pie in the world.”

  “A bath sounds nice. But what would I change into?”

  “Abigail may have something else for you to wear. And you can borrow something from Nana in the meantime. It might not fit but you can’t stay in that.”

  Darcy pulled the blankets tighter around her torso and forced a smile. “It’s funny how after being trapped in a fire, I now can’t seem to get warm.”

  Thomas didn’t respond. Immediately, Darcy wished she had worded that differently. He’d shared his coat with her the day before. He didn’t have a coat on now, of course. It had burned in the fire as had her wool wrap. So it sounded like she’d meant for him to put his arms around her again. Ugh. Why did a kiss make things so awkward?

  Darcy cleared her throat. Time to move on to another topic. “It’s a real shame about the cottage. Did Jesse have insurance?”

  “The Amish don’t—”

  “Have insurance... Of course you don’t.” Darcy pressed her lips together. “Then how does Jesse get medical care?”

  “The community has funds put away for such things. To cover unexpected costs such as Jesse’s hospital bills, or for when a house burns down or gets damaged in a storm.”

  “That’s amazing. You really take care of each other.”

  “Isn’t that what we should do? Help those that we love?”

  “Well, yes, it’s what people should do. But trust me, I don’t think too many people actually do it.” Then again what did she know? She hadn’t exactly grown up in a normal loving home. In any case, she didn’t want to talk about. “I opened the envelope.”

  “I thought you might.”

  Darcy shrugged. “I didn’t understand any of it. It was very cryptic. Some quotes. A weird message at the top. And a picture inside. It was the original of the same picture he gave me a copy of when we first met—him and me with my mother when I was little.”

  “Where was that picture taken?”

  “I don’t know exactly,” she said.

  “Maybe it’s important.”

  Darcy frowned. “Thomas, I know you’re trying to help me and I appreciate it more than you know. More than I’m showing you, but... I should just go. We should just call Agent Danvers—”

  “Agent Danvers? Don’t you mean Agent Ross?”

  “Come on, Thomas,” she said. “You were nearly killed today. I’m just putting all of you at risk by staying here. I can’t keep doing that.”

  “I don’t think that man today was hunting you,” Thomas said. “He was looking around the house. And he definitely didn’t mean to set it on fire. That just happened in the scuffle—”

  “In the scuffle of him shooting at you.”

  “Well, now that the house is practically destroyed, I don’t think they will be back again. They don’t know where you are. And they wouldn’t even recognize you if they did.”

  “Do you think Jesse had some of the art stashed away there, in the cabin?”

  “If he did, then it’s gone now or at least damaged.” Thomas shook his head. “But no. I don’t think there was any artwork there. The FBI team would have found it. Plus, if Jesse did keep all that artwork, I don’t think he would have kept it nearby.”

  “Kind of like how he had the photos in a box all the way out at the well?” she asked.

  “Yes, but the pictures aren’t worth anything. Paintings worth millions of dollars? Well, you would think he would have put those somewhere really secure.”

  “Like a vault.”

  “Right,” he agreed. “Anyway, don’t call Agent Danvers. At least not today.”

  “Okay, I’ll see what McClendon and Agent Ross have to say. I just don’t want to put anyone in danger. I mean, look at you.” She glanced down to his wounded leg. “Does it hurt?”

  “This isn’t your fault, Darcy,” he said. “None of this is. Just remember that.”

  His voice was full of emotion, but for what she wasn’t sure. For her? For Jesse? For the destruction of the cottage? For the discovery that someone he loved was a thief?

  He was right. Nothing about this situation was her fault. But that wasn’t the only thing she was thinking about. She was thinking about Thomas. Was she starting to have feelings for him? Her heart was pounding. Darcy had to remind herself to breathe.

  “Would you let me have a look at it? The letter, that is.”

  “Of course you can. You’re the one who found it. And you’re right. We should show it to Agent Ross.”

  “Good. I’m glad you agree because I already called him and told him about it.”

  * * *

  For someone who’d been attacked and nearly burned to death, Darcy was amazingly resilient. He liked that about her. Actually, Thomas liked a lot of things about Darcy Simmons. He liked her small frame and her huge round eyes, especially now that he could see them in all their natural beauty, uncluttered by dark makeup. He liked her quick mind and her outspoken opinions.

  What he didn’t like was that she didn’t like to talk about God. He didn’t like that she didn’t understand that some people were willing to help one another without expecting anything in return. He didn’t like that she was going to leave. Which brought him to the real doozy that he didn’t like—that he’d kissed her. Of course, that was his fault, not hers.

  A rush of emotions flooded through him at the thought—emotions he would repress and ignore, as they had no possible hope of further development.

  Anyway, the kiss had been just an expression of thankfulness that God had saved them from the fire. That He’d delivered them once again from a dangerous intruder. Right. Thomas swallowed hard. Although holding her close might have filled him with a feeling that was not exactly thankfulness. Not that Thomas wasn’t thankful, of course—he was. But he knew what had really happened. He had gotten caught up in the moment. That’s what had happened. And what a moment it was...

  “You must be exhausted,” he said, forcing his thoughts in a different direction.

  “I would imagine no more than you are,” she said. “Thomas, what if the letter and the pictures and the key all lead to nothing? What if Jesse never wakes up? What will we do?”

  A sadness swept over Thomas at her words. He wanted to reach over and draw her close. But he couldn’t. He wouldn’t go there again. Anyway, thankfully they were home. Nana was standing on the front porch looking at them like they were a pair of teenagers that had stayed out too late.

  “I have been waiting and waiting. I heard all those sirens,” she began. “And I saw smoke. What were you all doing over there? I thought it was going to be just a small investigation. You know Jesse wouldn’t like all these people rummaging through his belongings...”

  There was a distinct pause as they got close enough for Nana to see the condition they were in and then Nana started again. “Oh, my! What has happened to the two of you? You’re covered in soot and it smells like—”

  “The cottage caught fire,” Thomas announced.

  “With the two of you in it, from the looks of it.”

  “Wai
t until you see his leg,” Darcy said as she climbed out of the buggy.

  “Thanks for that.” Thomas eyed her as she jumped down. There was a twinkle of mischief in her stormy gray eyes. Ja, he liked that about her, too.

  SIXTEEN

  When Darcy walked into the kitchen she looked clean and refreshed, except for her slightly soiled frock. Thomas, on the other hand, had not moved far from the stool, where he had his leg propped up. He still smelled of smoke and sweat.

  “Elijah and Agent Ross are on their way. I think they have more news,” Thomas said. “Nana left out some coffee and sandwiches. I guess Nana’s clothes don’t fit you?”

  Darcy pressed her lips together and shook her head. “Is she not joining us?”

  “No, she thought she’d be in the way. Do you mind serving?”

  Darcy poured both tea and coffee and filled a plate with the turkey sandwiches that Nana had made. Thomas liked watching her work. Plus, the smell of food was reminding him of how hungry he was.

  Darcy was just putting things on the table when Agent Ross entered along with Elijah and Bishop Miller.

  “Bishop Miller?” Darcy tried to hide the surprise in her voice, but Thomas could still hear it. “I—I don’t think I have enough sandwiches.”

  “Not to worry, Miss Simmons.” The bishop’s voice was calm and kind. “Elijah and I were able to reschedule our deliveries. How’s the leg?”

  “Kind of sore,” Thomas admitted reluctantly. He hated being physically weakened. You can’t protect her, farmer boy. Agent Danvers’s words could not be truer. Thomas clenched his teeth. He should not be so proud of his strength. “Please sit down, everyone. And forgive me for not getting up.”

  “We understand you found something in Jesse’s house,” said Agent Ross. “But before we take a look at it, Bishop Miller wanted to tell you something.”

  “Jesse...” Bishop Miller paused. “Jesse told me a little more than what I shared with you the other day.”

  Thomas and Darcy both exchanged a glance then looked back to the bishop.

  “Darcy, your father loved you. Leaving you with your mother’s parents ripped him apart. But your grandparents wanted custody and he thought with what he’d done that he would never be able to win a custody battle in court. Plus, it was a question of safety. And I can assure you, he felt guilty about your mother’s death. But he prayed for you every day. No earthly father could have loved you more. And he always knew where you were. One of the agreements he made with your grandparents was that he was allowed to know your identity and whereabouts as long as he promised not to contact you until after your twenty-fifth birthday.”

  Darcy looked ready to burst into tears. But she had to have been relieved to hear more about her past.

  “I turned twenty-five two months ago,” she said.

  The bishop smiled. “I know. Jesse came to me and asked me what he should do. He wanted to contact you but he was afraid. Not of any of the danger that’s been happening—I believe he never would have considered contacting you if he’d thought it would place you in danger. He was afraid you wouldn’t love him. That you wouldn’t forgive him.”

  The bishop paused for a moment, giving Darcy a chance to regain her composure, which she looked quite close to losing.

  “Anyway,” the bishop continued, “he decided it would be better to have tried and failed than not to have tried at all. And that’s all. I heard that he had taken a turn for the worse and I just wanted to tell you how much you mean to him in case he doesn’t get the chance to do it himself.”

  No one spoke for another minute, as Agent Ross set up his computer on the kitchen table.

  “Should we take a look at what you found?” Agent Ross said.

  “Wait a minute,” Thomas said. “Of course we will look at the letter and key but I just got to thinking... Well, even if these new clues lead us to the paintings, then what? Darcy and Jesse are still in danger. What can we do about Wissenberg? What about the people that helped him find Jesse?”

  “You’re right. That just as important, which is why I’ve been on Wissenberg’s whereabouts 24/7. But he is gone.”

  “How can he be gone? Wouldn’t he still be on parole?” Elijah asked.

  “Yes, but that doesn’t always keep people who are well connected from disappearing.”

  “So how do you figure out who is doing his dirty work for him?” Darcy asked. “Like who told Wissenberg where Jesse was in the first place?”

  “Right, well, we’ve worked on that, too, but like I told Elijah, it’s touchy when an FBI investigation involves another government agency. Everyone is sort of territorial. What I have been able to get is a record of all of Wissenberg’s visitors and phone calls while he was in prison.”

  Thomas nodded to show he was following. “Anyone of interest on that list?”

  “My biggest hope is the three visits from someone who didn’t sign in properly. My team is looking through footage of the prison video surveillance tapes. We hope to match a face up to a name and go from there. We also have leads on Wissenberg’s two sons. They left the country after their father’s trial. That makes it harder to find them. But there is a money trail. I think we may be able to get that nailed down soon. And there’s also an unregistered phone number that he called almost every week. There is no locator on the phone, which means the calls are being filtered through some sort of computer program designed to keep people like us from locating phones.”

  “But it’s not impossible to track down the phones,” Elijah said.

  “No. Not impossible,” Ross acknowledged.

  It was all so complicated, Thomas thought. But he was thankful for Elijah’s friend. It sounded as though he was doing everything he could.

  “What about other angles? Like other people who were involved in the smuggling? Or other people who worked at the Gregorian?” Thomas suggested.

  “Exactly,” Elijah said. “I thought of that yesterday morning and called Frank. That’s why I told you we have news.”

  Agent Ross nodded. “We are tracking down a woman named Lenore Moon. She worked for Jesse and for Wissenberg and was part of the art-theft ring. She went to jail for fraud but only for six months. We think she’s changed her name and her look. We are trying to get a location on her. There were rumors of a romantic interest between her and Wissenberg. It’s likely that she knew about the paintings that Jesse held back and could be in on this.”

  “Why would she wait until now to look for Jesse if she knew he had the paintings all this time?” Darcy asked.

  “Probably because she couldn’t locate Jesse without Wissenberg’s help. Or needed him to provide muscle, which he wouldn’t do until he knew he would get his cut. Or she had nothing to do with it. It’s just a lead. That’s what all of these are...just leads.”

  * * *

  “The coffee is getting cold,” Darcy said, needing a break from the conversation.

  She had been listening and asking questions, but her heart was so full of emotion that it was all she could do to keep from crying. Part of her wanted to run out of the room and escape all she was feeling. The other part of her wanted to run to the hospital and tell Jesse that she forgave him. No part of her could bear to look at Thomas. She knew if she did she would lose what little bit of control she had left. And though they had been nothing but kind to her, she did not want to cry in front of these men.

  Darcy left the table to pour the tea and coffee. She returned and placed the sandwiches on the table and passed out some plates and napkins. She felt a little bit more in control when she sat back down again.

  “Let us pray,” the bishop said. “Our Heavenly Father, hear our thanks. Hear our praise. Know we are Your people. Give us ears to hear Your will and guide us along the path of the righteous that we may be found acceptable in Your sight.”

&nbs
p; Darcy whispered the words of Bishop Miller as he said them. She said amen as she thought about the bishop’s words. Was she one of God’s people? How could that be? Was this feeling inside her what it meant to be called to God?

  “Thomas, where are the things we wanted to show them?” Darcy did not look his way as she stood again and began to clear the empty plates.

  “On the counter by the back door.”

  Darcy went to get the items and spread them out across the table.

  Elijah picked up the key and turned it in his hands. “Looks like a bank key. Or a mailbox key. And the letter?”

  “It’s just a cryptic line about something hidden and then a couple of random Bible verses,” Darcy said. She read the first one aloud.

  “‘Next they made the courtyard. The south side was a hundred cubits long and had curtains of finely twisted linen.’ There’s no reference.”

  “That’s from Exodus,” Bishop Miller told her. “It’s from the building of the tabernacle under the direction of Moses. Everything was very exact. Every inch of the instructions. Fascinating.”

  “What’s the other verse?”

  “It’s just as fascinating,” said Thomas. “Read it.”

  Darcy cleared her throat. “‘He gave two carts and four oxen to the Gershonites, as their work required.’”

  “And that would be from Numbers,” the bishop said. “Still about Moses. But I believe this is dealing with offerings.”

  Agent Ross was typing into his computer. “I got the references,” he said. “Exodus chapter thirty-eight, verse nine and Numbers chapter seven, verse seven. I’ll have my team look into code possibilities.”

  He read the rest of the letter. “Most likely the top part is a message and the bottom tells us how to decode it.”

  “Well, if everything you need for the message is in the letter,” Darcy said, “why also leave the Bible?”

  “Right,” Elijah said. “He wrote the verses out and specifically left off the references.”

  “And the key? How do we figure out where that fits in?” Thomas struggled to get up off the stool. Darcy flinched watching him move so stiffly. “I don’t know about any code or secret writing. In fact, that all sounds a little too fancy for Uncle Jesse. What if it just is what it is?”