Missing with Bonus Material: The Secrets of Crittenden County, Book One

by Gray, Shelley Shepard

  “Yeah.” He looked her way. “Lydia? Is pepperoni okay?”

  “I’m sorry?”

  The server cracked her gum again. “Walker just asked if a pepperoni pizza is okay with you. Is it? Do you even know what that is?”

  “It is fine.” She didn’t look back at the server, afraid the other woman would see the irritation in her eyes. Of course she’d had pepperoni pizza before.

  Walker glanced her way again, then after another pause, he held up two fingers. “We’ll take two Cokes, too, Kim. Thanks.”

  “All right. Sure, then.” With a swish of her hips, she turned away, leaving them alone.

  “What just happened, Lydia? Everything okay?”

  What could she even say? “Nothing. I’m sorry. My head went wandering. That’s all.”

  “You sure?”

  “Oh, yes. I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t apologize. It’s not like you don’t have things to think about.” His mouth tightened. “There’s a lot going on. So what did you want to talk about? I mean . . . you said it was nothing to do with Perry, right?”

  “No. I mean, not really.” As much as she’d been dying to talk to someone about all her feelings about Perry ’s death, now none of it seemed as important as her current situation.

  But it was still hard to get the words out.

  Walker shifted, signaling that he was losing patience.

  It was time. “A couple of days ago, my parents, they . . .” She paused. Forced herself to continue. “They said they needed to talk to me.” Warily, she glanced at him. He looked at her and nodded, encouraging her to continue. “What they told me was a shock. I’m adopted.”

  His eyes widened and his mouth went slack. Completely mirroring the way she was feeling, the way that she had been feeling since her parents had oh-so-calmly told her the news.

  “You had no idea?”

  “None. Until they gave me the news, it never crossed my mind that I was different from them at all.”

  “Really? You never thought you looked different? Or acted different?”

  “Every once in a while it crossed my mind, but my mother was always sure to brush off my questions.” She shrugged. “When my mamm told me not to question why God gave me blue eyes and the rest of my family brown, I listened to her.”

  She shook her head, realizing that surely there were a hundred little things that she should have wondered about, from her slim build when her mother was far curvier, to the way she was impatient, to the way she didn’t like sweets when everyone else in her family had a sweet tooth. “I’m the only one, too.”

  “Only one what?”

  “Of the kids in my family to be adopted.”

  “No way.”

  Lydia nodded, feeling vaguely like she was gossiping about strangers. Truly, her story felt like it belonged to someone else. “Jah. There’re four of us kids, but I’m the only one who’s not a biological member of the family.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  She was glad that he wasn’t correcting her, trying to make her feel like she shouldn’t be so rattled. “I’m not sure, but I want to do something.” And even as she said the words, she realized that was the truth. She wasn’t sure what to do next, or even if she should want to do something. To be sure, there was no set of rules explaining how to deal with situations like her own. All she did know was that keeping everything inside was clawing at her sense of worth.

  Was there even anything to do?

  Kim arrived with their pizza and drinks. Lydia was thankful for the interruption. As Walker reached for one of the white plastic plates and picked out a slice, she sipped her soda. The cold, sweet tang to the beverage was at once familiar and foreign. Usually, she didn’t crave anything more than water or coffee, but at the moment, the sugar seemed to revitalize her senses and bring clarity to a foggy situation.

  The slice of pizza did the same thing to her emotions. The cheese and sauce were hot and spicy, and the thin crust delicious.

  Walker said nothing as he ate across from her, but the amusement that played across his features revealed that he’d noticed her enthusiasm for the pizza and Coke.

  Moments later, Kim returned with a pitcher and refilled their glasses. “Need anything else, Walker?”

  He looked her way. “Lydia, want anything?”

  “Nee. I do not need anything more.”

  His lips twitched. “We’re good, Kim,” he said at last.

  She shifted, popping a hip out. “Sure about that?”

  “Positive.” He picked up his pizza while Kim still stood at his side, obviously hoping he’d have more to say to her. If Walker was aware of the other woman’s interest, he gave no sign of it.

  As Lydia observed the whole exchange, she found herself wondering more about him. He was so different than most of the Amish men she’d spent time with, far more outgoing, less reserved. Walker seemed to project an easy confidence with just about everything he did. What would that be like? she wondered. What would it be like to know yourself so well that nothing could rattle you?

  And how come she was feeling the exact opposite?

  “What?” Walker blurted.

  She blinked. “What do you mean?”

  “You keep staring.” He brushed his pale blue T-shirt for nonexistent crumbs.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be rude —”

  “No, is something wrong? I mean, beyond your news?”

  “Not at all. I was just thinking that you seemed so relaxed here. And so relaxed with Kim.”

  “Oh. I should be. I mean, I’ve known her forever.”

  “Yes, of course.” Mentally, she rolled her eyes. Why had she even mentioned it?

  “Are you upset? Kim’s kind of rude, but don’t take it personally. She’s like that to just about everybody.”

  “It’s not Kim.” Lydia paused as she tried to explain herself better. “I’m not uncomfortable being here. I guess I’m just uneasy about life right now.”

  He eyed the rest of the pizza pie on the table, obviously debating whether to eat more or leave it. Then he met her gaze. “So, what are you going to do about your parents’ news?”

  “I’m not sure. My parents don’t want me to do anything.”

  “Seriously? They just expected to drop that bombshell on you and move on?”

  She wasn’t exactly sure what he meant, but she got the gist of it. “Yes. They’d like me to keep it a secret, too.” Of course, she hadn’t.

  “That’s hardly fair.”

  “I feel the same way. I don’t want this secret.”

  “You’re an adult. You need to do whatever you need to do. I mean, that’s what I think.”

  She smiled. “Thank you. I needed to hear an outsider’s opinion. Someone who wasn’t Amish.”

  He slowly grinned. “Like me.”

  “Yes. Like you.”

  “So, did they tell you who your real parents are?”

  Here was her chance. It was either time to bring her concerns to the forefront of her mind or to push them away.

  “No . . . But I think I need to find out who they are. Good or bad, I need the truth.”

  “That sounds logical.”

  “Even if I never get to know them, I should at least know who they are, I think.”

  “You’re completely in the dark? Your parents didn’t give you any information?”

  “Walker, they couldn’t even tell me if my birth parents were Amish or English.” She sighed, and asked the question that had been lingering in the corner of her mind since her parents told her the news. “Walker, if my birth parents are English . . . do you think that’s what I am meant to be? If they were English, do I need to be English, too?”

  “I have no idea.”

  The simple words, combined with the steady, serious expression on his face, confirmed her fears. There was no blueprint to this situation. No one knew exactly what she was supposed to do now. And no one could provide her with an easy answer. This was something
she was going to have to figure out on her own, by herself.

  Chapter 10

  “I remember when Perry and Lydia broke up. He told me it was her fault, but I never really believed that.”

  WALKER ANDERSON

  Walker wished he was anywhere but where he was.

  “Do I need to be English, too?”

  Lydia Plank was gazing at him like he was some kind of hero, when the truth was he’d never be anyone’s hero. Not with all the things he’d done in his life.

  He grabbed the last piece of pizza and bit off a big bite, needing the time to figure out what to say. “I don’t know the answer to that.” When Lydia flinched, he closed his eyes. He was sorry he’d frightened her, but still feeling completely out of his element. “Lydia, look . . . I’m just a guy from a small town in Kentucky. I’m not Amish; I’m not even close to being sophisticated. My big life event was playing in the state championships in high school. Why would you think I would know what you should do?”

  Her cheeks turned rosy. “Since you know a lot of English girls, I thought maybe you could tell if I had something in common with English girls our age. And that maybe then I would have an idea of what I should do.”

  “Well, I don’t. I’m not some expert on Amish and English, or even American teenagers. I only agreed to meet because I thought you wanted to talk about Perry.”

  As her face clouded with uneasiness, he blurted, “There’s no news, is there? The last thing the detective told me was that they were questioning Perry’s friends.”

  She leaned back in her chair. “Was that what I was? For a time, I thought I was his sweetheart.”

  “Then you broke up?”

  “Jah. I hadn’t talked to him for some time.”

  “I hadn’t, either,” Walker said wistfully. “But I told the detective I didn’t know what Perry had been doing before he went missing.”

  “But you knew. Right?”

  There was more to her question than he was prepared to answer. And so he pushed the questions back to her. “Why? Where did you think he’d disappeared to after New Year’s?”

  She blinked. “I thought he went to Lexington. Maybe even St. Louis.”

  “I did, too. He was sick of being here. Once I heard him talk about meeting some guys from out of town.”

  “I saw him with some of those men.” She shivered. “They looked so different from us. They had on fancy clothes and sunglasses.” Leaning forward, she whispered, “I don’t know if those were the people who were selling him drugs.”

  “Yeah,” he shook his head, not sure what to say.

  “Did you ever tell anyone?”

  He’d told the detective, but he wasn’t going to tell her that. “No way. It wasn’t like I knew anything for sure.”

  “I never said anything, either,” she admitted. “It felt wrong to say things like that about a boy I had loved. Plus, I wasn’t even sure anyone would believe me. I didn’t have proof.”

  He swallowed. It made him uncomfortable to realize that they had something in common. It was easier thinking about how pretty she was when she was practically a stranger. It was easier imagining what it would be like to have her look at him in a soft way, when he knew they were worlds apart.

  After looking around, fearful for a moment that everyone had stopped minding their own business and was listening to their conversation, he leaned forward. “Once, he said he’d smoked something to have more energy.” Remembering the conversation, he said, “He acted like it was the best thing in the world. He offered to give me some to try.”

  Her eyes turned to saucers. “And what did you say?”

  “I said I wasn’t interested.” He was afraid it was meth—there had been no way he’d get near that. “I’m not into drugs. I don’t even drink.” She looked so worried, he had a sudden thought. “Hey, did he ever offer you anything?”

  She shook her head. “Never. But he started drifting away from me. From us. From everything we believe in.” She paused, her eyes widening. “I mean everything Amish.”

  “Did you ever talk to anyone about Perry?”

  Her expression turned troubled. “When I was seeing Perry, I pulled away from my girlfriends. They didn’t like him, you see.”

  “But you did?”

  She shrugged. “I thought I did. I wanted to; I’d known him forever. And my parents had encouraged us. They thought he was still the same, you see.”

  Now he understood. She felt like she was completely alone. The guy she’d once trusted was gone. Her parents had encouraged her to date a guy who’d been lying to just about everyone. And then it turned out that they’d been lying to her, too. Now her siblings weren’t even her real siblings.

  That was why she’d forced herself to see him. Because he was one of the few people who had been honest with her. “You know, my grandfather says it’s not who you are that makes a person, it’s what you believe.”

  “Walker, I’m not even sure what I believe anymore. I don’t know who I am, and I don’t even know who to trust.”

  It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her that she could trust him. But he held the words back. After all, they hardly knew each other.

  After sipping her drink again, she opened her purse and pulled out a ten-dollar bill. “Thank you for meeting me here, Walker.”

  “You can pay next time. Put the money away. I’ve got this.”

  She turned to him in surprise. “Next time?”

  Walker knew he should feel relief. She didn’t want another thing from him. She didn’t want to meet him again.

  He should feel happy. Really glad. They’d lived this long in Crittenden County without crossing paths all that much. There was no need to see her again or to deepen their friendship.

  But as he looked at her, and as he thought about Abby and how lost she always seemed to be, he knew he had to do something. For whatever reason, their lives were now intertwined because they’d once known Perry. And if he knew anything, it was that God didn’t do anything without a reason.

  “Look, we never got our stories straight about that night at Schrock’s. Meet me tomorrow at Stanton Park.”

  She shook her head. “Walker, there are a lot of people there. Already, I’m sure everybody’s wondering what the two of us would have to talk about.”

  “The park will be crowded. No one would notice us.” It was true. Stanton Park wasn’t known to be a hangout for Amish or for college students. No, it was a place where people down on their luck hung out.

  She bit her lip. “I don’t know . . .”

  “Look, it’s the only place for us. It’s close. No one will see us. No one will know. It will be our secret.”

  Apprehension flashed in her eyes before she slowly nodded. “All right. I’ll see you tomorrow at the park at four o’clock. I think I had better go now.”

  “Wait a minute. Aren’t you going to let me drive you home?”

  “There’s no need.”

  “But with my truck, it’s no problem to take you home. It’s not out of my way at all.”

  “I’ve already taken up enough of your time.”

  “Driving won’t take me long at all.”

  She smiled softly. “I imagine it wouldn’t. But I’d rather walk.”

  After setting her napkin on the table, she slid out of the booth and walked out, her back straight in her royal blue dress. Her head held high with a perfectly creased white kapp covering her light brown hair.

  Never looking back.

  By now, Luke had interviewed over twenty people about Perry. From what he could discern, Perry Borntrager had been both a pillar of the community and the worst sort of bully. He’d been kind to animals and small children, but had taunted them as well.

  He’d been always amenable and patient. He’d also been mean and irresponsible and difficult.

  For all these reasons, no one liked him.

  But everyone was really sad he was dead.

  Luke was growing more frustrated by the day, and mor
e certain that his time was being wasted. “Mose, I think I might be going soon,” he said as they left Mose’s office, one half of a trailer behind the bank building. It was raining again. He’d put on his ball cap from the police academy but had refrained from putting on his slicker.

  The light rain pattered against his flannel plaid shirt and cotton twill slacks. Mose had on a ball cap that read “Ice Road Truckers” and was dressed in loose jeans, a tan sheriff’s uniform shirt, and a red down vest. Luke figured that this was the first time in a while that they looked alike. Their strides matched, both easy and measured; instead of looking like a Kentucky Mennonite and a city guy from Cincinnati, he and Mose looked like a pair of friends.

  Much like they’d looked when back at the academy.

  “Wish you wouldn’t,” Mose muttered.

  “Staying here would only be a disservice to you. Fact is, I’m not making much headway.” Thinking about the hours of useless conversation he’d had, where the Amish men and women had talked in circles, practically daring him to delve into their personal world just so they could shoot him down. “Actually, I’m afraid I might be making things worse.”

  Mose glanced his way. “How so?”

  “People are clamming up the moment I get near them,” he said grudgingly. Feeling like the worst sort of rookie. “Or, even worse, they’re telling all kinds of stories about Perry that don’t add up. One minute it seems like the kid was a saint. Other times, that he was the worst sort of sinner.”

  “That sounds like most of us, don’tcha think?” Mose chuckled.

  Luke was not amused. He was frustrated and sitting here admitting his faults. “Mose, I’m trying to say that I think you would do better without me.”

  “I disagree. Yes, you’re a stranger here, but I know you’ll see some connections that I’ve been missing. Here in Crittenden County, our whole lives are intertwined; it’s hard to sometimes tell the good from the bad. Things might be making more sense than you realize.”

  “The information I’m getting and recording is only going to confuse your investigation.”

  As they walked along the sidewalk, Mose nodded to the few people they passed. Tipping the bill of his cap at a pair of elderly ladies; smiling at a pair of shy Amish girls—who didn’t look Luke’s way for even a second.