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Three Can Keep a Secret

Page 15

by Judy Clemens


  “Really?” Scott’s smile emerged again for a moment, but disappeared quickly, his eyes darting toward Zach, who sat with a look of confusion on his face. Scott stood, hands on his hips, and looked around at the farm. He pointed at the garage. “So that’s where Tess is staying? In the garage?”

  I grunted with frustration. What was this bizarre fixation with Tess and Lucy’s living arrangements? “There is a full apartment on the second floor. Indoor plumbing and everything.”

  He seemed to miss the sarcasm in my voice as he nodded gravely. “And where’s my dear sister-in-law?”

  I frowned. I didn’t like his tone of voice. “She’s not here at the moment.”

  “And she left Tess alone?”

  I stared at him. “Does it look like she’s alone? Last time I checked I was capable of taking care of an eight-year-old.”

  He glanced at me. “Sorry. Just want to make sure everything’s good for my niece.”

  “Everything’s fine.”

  “I hear Lucy found a church already,” Scott said.

  “They attended one on Sunday. Seemed to like it.”

  “Sellersville.” It was a statement, made with feeling.

  “You have a problem with them?”

  He blew air out his nose. “Several. So you don’t go there?”

  “When I go anywhere.”

  He looked at me. “You’re not a regular church-goer?”

  I gave a small smile. “And that matters because….”

  “Just wondered what kind of environment Lucy chose to work in.”

  “I can assure you we don’t go in for raucous parties and fornication.”

  He gaped at me, then at Tess, mortified. Like Tess would understand the word “fornication.”

  I glanced out the lane, hoping to see Lucy coming down it. “Lucy should be home before too long, if you want to wait.”

  He shrugged. “I really can’t stay. I was in the area doing business at Hatfield Meats, but I have to get back home to my own kids.”

  “You’re in the hog business?” I knew there was no way a pig was getting within a mile of his fancy truck.

  “Administrative.”

  Ah. “Well, I’ll be sure to tell Lucy you stopped by.”

  “Yeah. You do that.” He knelt and spoke to Tess. “You come home and visit soon, okay pumpkin? We miss you.”

  She flung her arms around him, tears filling her eyes. “You’re leaving already?”

  “Gotta go, sweetheart. But I’ll be back.” This last statement he said to me, and I wondered at its meaning.

  “You’re welcome anytime,” I said. “I’m sure Lucy will be sorry she missed you.”

  He grunted a laugh. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

  With one last kiss on Tess’ head, he climbed back into his truck and left.

  A tear made its way down Tess’ cheek.

  “You miss your old home?” I asked.

  She nodded and wiped her face on her sleeve. “And Gramma and Grampa.”

  “The ones that were here the other day?”

  She shook her head. “Not them. The other ones.”

  Lucy’s folks. I was surprised we hadn’t seen them yet, seeing how the in-laws kept popping up.

  “You seem to like your Uncle Scott.”

  She nodded. “I was at his house a lot.”

  “With your cousins?”

  “Yeah.” This was a whisper.

  I sent Zach a desperate look, and he stood. “Hey, Tess. Want to help me take hay down to the heifers?”

  She bit her lip, stemming the tears. “Yeah.”

  “All right. Come on. You too, Queenie!”

  The three of them headed off toward their chores.

  “Zach,” I called after them. “Thanks.”

  He looked back. “Anything for you. Remember? You’re my only woman.”

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  A half hour later I finished up with the cows and let them loose in the paddock. When I stepped into the office the light on my phone was flashing again. I pushed play, and heard Detective Willard’s voice telling me to call him. I got him at his desk.

  “Found out a few things about your employee,” he said. “I was able to get a hold of the lead investigator in Lancaster, a Detective Collins, for the case. He said he was never quite sure what to make of Mr. Lapp’s fall. He didn’t have enough to call it foul play, but he never came up with a satisfying answer as to what happened. Your employee and her husband were quite vague when they were questioned afterward. Both said Mr. Lapp was carrying some big boxes and tripped. Neither one offered any more, or any less. Like they had planned out exactly what to say.”

  “Or like that’s what really happened.”

  “Sure. Except there was nothing to indicate there’d been anything to make Mr. Lapp trip. Unless it was just his feet, which we all know is a possibility. When the medical people arrived they weren’t concerned about preserving the scene—they were concerned about preserving Mr. Lapp’s life. From what they observed, his body position backs up a fall, but could give no indication whether or not he was pushed.”

  “So the cops didn’t blame Lucy, or try to prove a case against her?”

  “They checked out every avenue. The most suspicious thing was the large life insurance policy taken out on Mr. Lapp only seven months before. But your employee got a policy, too. From talking to family and friends they found there were certainly some disagreements over religion. Mrs. Lapp had actually stopped going to church with her husband, and tried to keep their daughter at home, as well. She also was fighting to take their daughter out of her private school.”

  I remembered Lucy’s face when I’d mentioned Mennonite schools. She had no love for them. At least the one in Lancaster.

  “What about other people?” I asked. “Either Lucy or her husband involved in any affairs?”

  “Nothing they could find at the time of the accident. When Mr. Lapp died, however, there was some talk of another man.”

  Noah? I wondered.

  “But,” Willard continued, “Mr. Lapp’s death was pretty straightforward—no talk of foul play there. So Collins couldn’t in good conscience go after Mrs. Lapp’s current relationships.”

  An affair while her husband was confined to a wheelchair? Unseemly, but understandable. And not something I really wanted to know.

  “The papers mentioned drugs,” I said. “Like Brad had been under the influence when he’d fallen. Any truth to that?”

  “None. They ran blood tests right after the accident and found nothing suspicious. He was totally clean. And he had no history of drug use at all. Didn’t even drink.”

  At least they had sure answers about something.

  “Well, thanks. I appreciate your looking into it.”

  “You’re welcome, but I’m not quite done.”

  I froze at the sound of his voice. “What?”

  “There were some people who made no bones about trying to throw suspicion your employee’s way.”

  “What? Who?”

  “Her in-laws. They were quite adamant about getting the real story. Brad was hiding something, they said, and they were positive Lucy was, too. They were convinced Lucy had pushed him, but Brad wasn’t about to turn her in. Of course he wouldn’t, they said. He knew she could finish him off in a heartbeat, if he told. A pillow, an overdose, whatever she wanted.

  “So the cops were relentless in their investigation. They looked at the families, too—Mr. and Mrs. Lapp’s. The only friction they found was over their church. You know how I mentioned your employee had stopped going? Seems she grew up in a much more progressive Mennonite environment, and Brad grew up old school. They’d been attending Brad’s church, and the family—Brad’s and Lucy’s—knew there were some very hard feelings about the way some issues were handled.”

  I thought about Uncle Scott, who I’d just met. Tess surely loved him, and the affection in his eyes was plain
. Affection for Tess, but not necessarily for Lucy. Brad’s folks I wasn’t so sure about, but just because they were conservative didn’t mean they didn’t have Tess’ best interests at heart. And the woman from Children and Youth had shown up the day after their visit.

  “The complaint to Social Services—any way you’d know if Brad’s family initiated it?”

  “Not something I could find out. But Detective Collins didn’t sound surprised when I mentioned it.”

  “And telling the Children and Youth agent there’s an open homicide investigation?”

  “Bunch of hot air, really. Collins told me the case has been closed for two years. When Brad died, his family tried to bring it all up again, claiming Lucy made out very well financially, and that had been her goal from day one.”

  I bristled. “Ignoring, of course, the full-time nursing she’d done for her husband for a year since he fell.”

  “Grief can make people ignore a lot of things.”

  I swallowed.

  “But,” Willard said, “Detective Collins knew the investigation was going nowhere. Basically informed the Lapps they needed to salve their grief another way. Looks like they then took the avenue of trying to gain custody of Tess, saying now that Brad had died Lucy would want to move on to other things.”

  I thought back over the last few days. A call from the Lapps’ minister saying Lucy was a trouble-maker, a visit from the in-laws to check out the place, and an investigation by the Bucks County Children and Youth. Now today, another visit from Brad’s family. It couldn’t be a coincidence. Whether or not they’d stoop to the offensive graffiti was another matter.

  I looked out the window, hearing the rumble of Lenny’s bike.

  “Thanks for checking this out for me,” I said. “I really appreciate it.”

  “No problem. I’m glad to help. About that graffiti, I was hoping to swing by this afternoon. That work okay? Your farmhand will be around?”

  “Getting home right now.”

  “I’ll see you later, then, assuming this incoming storm doesn’t give me too much extra work. By the way, did you talk with your friend Mr. Spruce today?”

  I hesitated, glancing out the window to see Lenny parking the bike. “Yeah. Went and saw him at his shop.”

  “He okay?”

  “Seems to be.”

  “Good. But why don’t you see if you can get him to come clean with me? I know last night was a true break-in, but if he would tell me the truth, I might be able to prevent anything worse from happening.”

  I closed my eyes. So Willard had seen through Lenny’s story. I should’ve known.

  “I’ll do my best, Detective,” I said. “But I can’t make any promises.”

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  I glanced at the sky as Lenny stopped the bike to let Lucy slide off, and noticed the wind had risen dramatically since I’d gone inside. I was glad to see Zach and Tess coming up from the back field.

  “Better get on home, Len,” I said, “unless you want to weather the storm here.”

  He shook his head. “Promised Bart I’d be back soon. He has some church meeting this evening, and I said I’d cover for him at the shop. Open till eight, you know.”

  “Okay. Well, be safe.”

  He roared off, and Lucy watched him, a slight smile on her face.

  “Had another visitor,” I said.

  She blanched. “Not Noah?”

  “Nope. Uncle Scott.”

  She closed her eyes briefly, then glanced toward Zach and Tess, still fifty yards away. “Tess see him?”

  “Sure. Gave him a huge hug, and cried when he left.”

  Lucy dipped her head, rubbing the back of her neck. “Sorry he came. My in-laws take every opportunity they can to cause me trouble.”

  I shrugged. “It was no trouble. Seemed like a nice enough guy.”

  I was hoping this might pull some information from Lucy, but she just shook her head and forced a smile when Tess got close.

  “So you got to see Uncle Scott?” she asked.

  Tess bobbed her head up and down. “For a few minutes. He had to go.”

  “He said he’d be back,” I said.

  Lucy’s mouth formed a straight line, but any reply she was going to make was drowned out by a sudden gust of wind, accompanied by the beginnings of a rain shower.

  “I’m going in to listen to my weather radio,” I said. “This looks like tornado weather. I don’t like it. Make sure the barn doors are closed and the windows are latched. Zach, help her out.”

  Lucy jogged away, but Zach stayed, Tess standing so close to him I was afraid he’d trip when he turned around.

  “What about the cows?” Zach asked. “Should we get them inside?”

  “They’re fine. They’ll naturally find the safest place. No reason to panic them by herding them in.”

  “And aren’t we supposed to leave windows open in tornadoes?”

  “A myth,” I said. “Now go help.”

  He hustled off, Tess in tow, to do my bidding. I hurried into the kitchen and turned on my radio.

  After a couple of irritating minutes of reports about tides and winds at the Jersey shore, the newscast got around to the local forecast.

  “A tornado watch has been issued for the following counties until eleven-o’clock p.m.: Northampton, Lehigh, Berks, Montgomery, Bucks—” I snapped the radio off at the mention of our area and trotted back outside to help get things battened down. Queenie pranced around anxiously, yipping at the strong winds and spotty rainfall, and I reached down a hand to soothe her. I couldn’t see Lucy and the kids, so I jogged to the feed barn on my own, making sure the windows and doors were latched. The garage was shut, as was Lucy’s front door, but I noticed a few of her windows stood open. I still didn’t see her, so I ran up the stairs, ribs aching, and entered the apartment.

  Once I’d shut her windows I let myself out, only to find her coming up the stairs. She stopped short at the sight of me.

  “Sorry,” I said. “I didn’t know where you were, and the windows were open.”

  Silently, she turned back around and waited at the base of the stairs. Zach and Tess both stood with Queenie, their hands entwined in her fur. The rain had stopped, and while the sky directly above us and to the southeast mulled black and threatening, the horizon shone with eerie pinkish-gray sunlight. The air went deadly still. A chill rushed through my body, and just as I took the first step down the apartment stairs the town’s siren began to wail. The tornado watch had been upgraded to a tornado warning.

  “Everybody inside!” I shouted. “Down to the basement!”

  We ran.

  The musty cellar was damp and chilled, and while Lucy hustled the kids to the far corner, I quickly emptied the canning shelves of the few fermenting bottles stored there so they wouldn’t crash onto our heads. I stashed the jars on the floor and pulled a wooden table over to where the kids stood.

  “Get under,” I said.

  “But Smoky’s still outside,” Tess said, her eyes filling.

  “He’ll be fine,” Lucy said. “Cats are smart. Besides, his mama will take care of him.”

  Still anxious, Tess hunkered down beside Zach. The two of them fit snugly under the table, and Lucy and I huddled as close to them as we could. Queenie pressed against my legs, her whimper high and frightened. The wind outside began again, and rose in ferocity as we waited. I wished I had thought to bring my weather radio down with me. Zach trembled beside me, and I put out my hand to rest it on his back. Shrill whistling through the basement’s windows added to the melee, and just when I thought it couldn’t get any louder, something that sounded like a train came overhead, and smashes and booms reverberated as things hit the house.

  We scrunched together, arms over our heads. I’m sure I wasn’t the only one praying.

  A long minute later the locomotive was gone, and I relaxed my grip around Zach’s waist. Cautiously I stood and walked toward on
e of the windows. I peered out.

  Thank God we were all okay and the house over our heads was still standing. But the feed barn and the garage—along with Lucy’s apartment—were gone.

  Chapter Thirty

  We stood outside. None of us said anything. There was nothing to say that would have been meaningful. Where the garage and apartment had been was now a pile of wood and concrete. Lucy’s car was somewhere underneath it.

  The mature trees in my yard had been thrashed, huge limbs ripped off the thick trunks, branches falling onto other smaller trees, destroying them, too. My beautiful hickory, under which Howie’s truck was parked, had been demolished, Howie’s truck taking a good bit of the wood in its windows and now dented roof and hood.

  The yard was littered with debris—branches, glass, leaves, roofing, downed wires. A disaster site.

  I sank down to the step, afraid my legs would give out. Queenie huddled in front of me, but the other three remained where they were.

  Fifteen minutes later Jethro and Belle came barreling in the drive, skidding to a stop at a wire that lay menacingly across the gravel. Jethro jumped out of the truck, careful not to touch the potentially lethal cord.

  “You’se okay?” he yelled.

  Zach made to run to him, but Lucy grabbed his arm. “Those wires, honey. Can’t go over there just yet.”

  It took a few moments for my voice to work enough to respond to Jethro. “We’re fine.”

  Belle rolled down her window. “We couldn’t get through on the phone. Now we see why. I’ve got our cell. I’ll call the electric company.”

  I put up a hand in thanks, and while she called, Jethro stood surveying the destruction. I rested my head on my forearms, a sudden sweat breaking over my body. It had been too close.

  A half hour later I was still sitting on the step. Lucy had taken Tess into the house, Smoky in her arms, and Zach sat beside me. His shaking had stopped, but he was pale and quiet.

  “Why don’t you go in?” I said. “Get some water. Or something to eat.”

  He shook his head. “Not hungry.”

  I took a deep breath and let it out. “Me either.”

 

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