Plain Sanctuary

by Alison Stone

  A mixture of excitement and a touch of disappointment ran through her. Today was opening day. The fruit of all their labor. Yet she couldn’t shake the feelings of loss that had lingered with her as she drifted off to sleep and then again when she woke up.

  Zach was leaving on Monday.

  In the short time she had spent with Zach, she had grown to really like him, but now with him going back to Buffalo, they wouldn’t be able to explore what might have been.

  She flipped the rag around to find a clean spot and ran it over the windowsills. Maybe it was just as well. She didn’t need the added complication of a man.

  Footsteps sounded on the hardwood floor and Heather’s heart leaped in her throat. She spun around to find Ruthie on the stairs. Heather tried to hide the disappointment she felt in her heart.

  Ruthie must have witnessed it, because she made a dramatic show of pressing her hand to her heart. “I’m happy to see you, too, Miss Miller.”

  Heat fired in Heather’s cheeks. “No, um...you surprised me. Good morning.” She tucked the dust rag into her back pocket and smiled. “Ready for our first big day?”

  “Yah.” A hint of Pennsylvania Dutch slipped in. “We’ll serve a light snack around seven this evening. Most of the guests will have eaten before they check in.”

  “Yes, that’s the plan.” Heather crossed the room and palmed the banister. “I appreciate all your help. I wouldn’t be able to do this on my own.”

  A shuffling drew her attention to the kitchen. Zach stared at her with a funny expression on his face. She wondered if he had made a firm decision to leave on Monday.

  Of course he had. He couldn’t stay here forever.

  “Anything specific you need me to do today?”

  Heather clasped her hands together. “I think we’re set.”

  * * *

  Mr. and Mrs. Hopkins and Mr. and Mrs. Woodruff sat around the table and chitchatted, seeming like they were more interested in talking about who they knew in common in Buffalo than they were about talking to the real live Amish person walking in and out of the room serving shoofly pie and tea and coffee.

  Heather suspected the guests had also discussed the search for the ex-convict who had made his way to Quail Hollow, but either out of consideration or maybe just by chance, she hadn’t heard anything as of yet. She hoped it remained that way. She hated to be the focus of gossip.

  Miss Fiona Lavocat, their last-minute guest, hadn’t arrived yet. Heather pulled back the front curtain and a whisper of worry sent goose bumps across her skin. It seemed late for a single woman to be traveling alone.

  Dropping the curtain back into place, Heather forced herself to relax her shoulders. She was probably projecting her own feelings. That was what happened when you spent the majority of your adulthood hiding from an abusive ex-husband.

  She smiled politely at her guests as she slipped past the dining area and into the kitchen. She turned on the tap and filled the sink with hot soapy water. Something about washing dishes by hand was therapeutic. Beyond her kitchen window, as she swished the inside of a tall glass with a sponge on a plastic stick, she saw Zach unloading some plywood from the back of his pickup truck. His vehicle provided the only light in the gathering dusk. She didn’t want to read too much into the delivery. Was he going to be around long enough to finish the job? He didn’t strike her as the kind of guy who didn’t finish what he started.

  Maybe he was just picking up some supplies for Sloppy Sam.

  A knocking sounded on the front door. Heather set the glass in the drying rack, wiped her hands on a dishrag and hustled toward the door. She waved to Ruthie, who was collecting dishes from the table. “I’ll get it.” She’d much rather Ruthie entertain the guests.

  Through the glass on the top half of the door, she noticed a young woman with long red hair falling over her shoulders. She seemed to be looking everywhere but through the window at Heather. She pulled open the door. “You must be Fiona.”

  The young woman adjusted her glasses and smiled. “I am. I had trouble finding the bed-and-breakfast.” She hiked up the strap of her bag and bent her knees slightly to reach for the handle of her suitcase.

  “Let me get that.” Heather stepped onto the porch and reached for the bag.

  “I’ve got it.” Fiona lifted the bag into the house and set it down on the hardwood floor. She took in the room. “Wow, this is a real Amish house?”

  Something about the way she said it made Heather bristle. She just hoped she was able to hide her reaction. Isn’t this what she had wanted guests to think? Yet a little piece of her felt like she was trading on her family’s past for profit.

  Heather swallowed and forced a smile. “My mammy was Amish. This was her house.” Her “go-to” had always been to say her grandmother was Amish, but what about her mem? What about her? However, truth be told, she had never been baptized—the Amish waited for adulthood—so although she had lived as the Amish until she turned six, she hadn’t been fully brought into the faith.

  She cleared her throat, wishing she could stop her rambling thoughts.

  Fiona dropped her laptop bag by the door next to her suitcase and strolled around the room. “This is so cool.” Then she stopped and turned around and made a strange I-should-have-thought-to-ask-this-before face. “I’m going to need to charge my laptop. Will that be a problem?”

  “No, not at all. When I had the renovations done, I added a few modern conveniences. You’ll find an outlet in your bedroom as well as one in the bathroom.”

  “Good, good.” Fiona placed her hands on her hips. “I should get a lot of work done here out in the middle of nowhere.”

  “How did you find us?”

  “Your website. I googled B and Bs in Western New York. There were so many. There are a ton in Niagara Falls, but I wanted to find somewhere less...busy, I guess. Less temptation to go out and visit a wax museum or something.” A grimace flashed across her face as if she had said something wrong. “Am I supposed to check in or something?”

  Heather shook her head, feeling a little foolish. She figured she’d get into a rhythm soon enough. She slid up the cover on the rolltop desk, opened a notebook and entered Fiona’s name. She had decided paper and pens would seem more quaint. However, she had the ability to run a credit card through her smartphone. Fiona reached into her bag and pulled out a roll of bills. “Is cash okay?” She shrugged, a sheepish expression on her face. “I don’t have a credit card.”

  “Yes, cash is fine.”

  Laughter rose from the eating area. Even though the two couples had just met, it seemed they had really hit it off. Fiona glanced in that direction with mild disinterest. “Busy weekend.”

  Heather held up her hand. “You’ll have your own bedroom. Ruthie picked out a nice room with a cozy chair and a desk. I’m sure it’ll be very quiet. You can listen to the corn grow.” Heather sometimes wished she could make herself stop talking.

  “Sounds great.” Fiona reached for her laptop case.

  “Um, I do need ID. Do you have a driver’s license? It’s just a formality.” Heather wasn’t sure why she felt silly for asking this young woman for ID. She was running a business. It wasn’t a paranoid thing to do.

  Fiona seemed to flinch. “Oh, of course.” She slid her fingers into a narrow compartment on her laptop case and pulled out a New York State driver’s license. “I parked on the edge of the driveway behind the other cars. Is that okay?”

  “Yes. That’s fine.”

  As Heather jotted down Fiona’s information so she could track the woman down if, say, she damaged her room, Fiona leaned in close and whispered, “I almost didn’t book this bed-and-breakfast when I realized this was in the same town where they’re looking for that escaped convict.”

  Heather froze, pen poised above the piece of paper. She slowly lifted her eyes to meet Fiona’s. “Well, I’m glad you d
idn’t cancel.” Heather prayed that her expression didn’t give away the emotions rioting inside her.

  “Should I be worried?” The two women locked gazes a moment and Heather tried to decipher in that one look if Fiona knew of her personal ties to the missing convict.

  “No, not at all.” Heather noticed Zach enter the front door at that exact moment. “There’s no need to worry. Law enforcement has combed this area, and if Brian Fox was in Quail Hollow, he’s long gone by now.”

  A small frown tipped the corners of Fiona’s mouth. The expression on her face shifted from mild curiosity to one of expectation as she stood clutching her bags.

  “I’ll show you to your room,” Heather said, snapping the register closed and sliding the rolltop desk down.

  “I’ll show her to the room.” Ruthie’s voice startled Heather. The young Amish woman had entered the living room from the other direction just as quietly as Zach had, either that or Heather had just been a little jumpy.

  “Thank you.” Heather held out her palm to Ruthie. “This is Ruthie. Ruthie, this is our guest Miss Lavocat.”

  “Oh, please, it’s Fiona.”

  “Okay, Fiona. Ruthie’ll show you to your room.”

  Fiona lifted her shoulders, then let them drop. “Sounds good.”

  “I’ll take your bag,” Zach offered.

  Ruthie slipped in and grabbed it. “No need. I’ve got it.”

  Heather sensed Zach watching her, but oddly it didn’t unnerve her. She turned to him and smiled. “You’ve been working hard.”

  “I believe I’ve run out of daylight.” He brushed his hands on the thighs of his jeans. “How do you contact your Amish contractor? Does he have a phone?”

  “Yes.” She feared the brightness of her smile wavered. Zach wanted to hand off the work. Did this mean he was leaving? “I have his number in my desk.”

  She took a step toward the desk and Zach said, “It can wait till tomorrow.”

  “Okay. I guess I should see if our guests need anything else.”

  Heather noticed that Ruthie had already cleared the table. Upon seeing her, the guests looked up expectantly. “You have a very nice home,” Mrs. Woodruff said.

  “Thank you. Can I get you anything else?”

  They all said they were fine, so Heather excused herself and went upstairs, fully intending to come back down after her guests had settled in for the night and make sure the last few coffee mugs were cleared away and all the doors were locked. A niggling that she had forgotten something wouldn’t leave her. Soon, she’d get into a routine, but she had to give herself some slack. This was, after all, her first night with guests in her bed-and-breakfast.

  Zach had retreated to his room a few minutes earlier. From the upstairs landing, Heather could hear Ruthie talking to Fiona. She slipped into her room and wished she could have just crawled into bed and called it a night. Her eyes felt gritty and a headache threatened. She figured she better take something for it because she couldn’t afford any downtime with guests in her home.

  She opened her medicine cabinet and sucked in a gasp. Panic sliced through her as she reached in with a shaky hand and picked up a simple gold wedding band. With narrowing vision, she read the inscription:

  Forever Mine.

  Followed by the date of her wedding to Brian Fox.

  The ring slipped out of her grasp and bounced around the bowl of the sink. She clamped her hand over it before it slipped down the drain. She scooped it up with her fingers and set it back on the shelf where she had found it and stared at it as the walls closed in on her.

  TEN

  Zach stood by the window and stared out over the farmland. He had enjoyed the hard labor today. It felt good to get out of his head for a bit. His boss was telling him he was needed at the office. But too much was left undone here.

  They still hadn’t found Fox’s body.

  A quiet knock sounded on his door and he frowned and turned around. He crossed the small room to the door and found a pale Heather standing in his doorway under the soft glow of the kitchen light. Behind her in the eating nook, the guests’ good-humored conversation indicated they were oblivious to whatever had brought Heather to his door. She was shaking.

  “What is it? Is everything okay?” He looked past her, half expecting Fox to be standing behind her. He blinked and the image disappeared.

  Heather lifted a shaky hand and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I have to show you something.” Her voice trembled.

  “Okay.” He searched her eyes, but she seemed to be a million miles away.

  As they walked past the guests, Heather smiled and said, “The upstairs faucet seems to be dripping in my bathroom.”

  Zach followed her upstairs and the door down the hall opened and Fiona peeked out, gripping her bathrobe closed at the collar. “Oh, I’m sorry. I heard voices and I wondered. I didn’t mean to—”

  “Everything’s okay,” Zach said. “Miss Miller has been having issues with the faucet.”

  “Okay. Well, good night, then.” The young woman closed the door with a quiet click, leaving Heather and Zach in the hallway alone.

  “Come on. Show me what has you so rattled,” he said.

  Zach followed Heather through her suite into her private bathroom. She stood with her arms crossed staring at the mirror, but not at her image reflected in it. “What is it?”

  She pointed at the mirror. “Look in the medicine cabinet.”

  He pulled on one side of the mirror, then the other before he heard a quiet click and the latch released, revealing the medicine cabinet behind the mirror. A single bottle of pain reliever sat inside next to a simple gold wedding ring. He turned and looked at Heather. She had that glassy look again. He saw her visibly swallow. “The ring. Read the inscription,” she whispered.

  Zach stared at her for a minute longer before picking up the ring and turning it so he could read the inscription. Dread knotted his stomach as he realized the significance of it. “Your wedding ring?”

  Her hand fluttered around the hollow of her throat. “Yes.” The word came out on a single breath. “He was here.”

  He cupped Heather’s elbow and felt a slight tremble race through her. “When was the last time you went into the medicine cabinet?”

  She blinked slowly, as if thinking. “I put the pain reliever in there when I moved in, but haven’t opened the door since.”

  “When did you last see this ring?” He ushered her out of the bathroom and she sat on the edge of the chaise lounge while Zach paced the space in front of her.

  “I left it behind when I ran away.”

  “You left it at the home you shared with Fox?”

  She nodded and dragged a shaky hand across her hair. “I took it off and set it on the kitchen table. I wanted him to know I had left him. It was an act of defiance just before I took the biggest risk of my life.” She lifted her watery gaze to him. “He was in my room. He’s not dead.”

  Zach stopped pacing and crouched down in front of her and gathered her hands in his. “This doesn’t mean that he’s alive. He may have made his way up here the night he left the message on the back wall for you. He may have slipped upstairs, then escaped out the front door while we were by the back door. Any number of possibilities that don’t include a return trip to your house.”

  Heather pressed her hands to her mouth. “How do we know for sure?”

  He didn’t.

  “His body has to be recovered.” It wasn’t fair that Heather had to live with this doubt. Zach stood and gently brushed the back of his knuckles across her warm cheek. “I’m not going anywhere until then.”

  Heather nodded, but uncertainty flashed in the depths of her eyes. “Your boss...” They both knew that finding Fox’s body wasn’t a certainty. Zach couldn’t stay here forever.

  “My boss is going to have t
o understand.”

  “But...” Heather tried to argue.

  “I need to make sure you’re safe.” He cleared his throat. “Now, about this ring. You were still married when you left Fox?”

  “Yes. I had to leave him. If I didn’t, he would have—” The word killed died on her lips. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. How did you arrange a divorce?”

  “I didn’t for a long time. I had to stay hidden. But when Brian met Jill, he wanted a divorce and reached out to me through my sister. It was through her that I communicated with a lawyer and the divorce was finalized.” She frowned. “I moved again after that. I couldn’t risk him coming for me. No one disobeyed Brian and got away unscathed.”

  “No.” No, they didn’t. He had killed Jill the day after she called her big brother begging for a way out. He’d been out of town on a case. He’d told her to leave the house that night. To go to his apartment and lock herself in. Brian had found her. Slaughtered her on the back steps. Her favorite purple suitcase dumped on top of her lifeless body.

  Heather untucked her legs and stood, sighing heavily. “I’m tired. I need to go to sleep.”

  “Of course.” He smiled and backed out of the room, slipping out of the door that had been left ajar. He paused just outside the doorway thinking he heard footsteps somewhere on the second floor. All the rooms were occupied by guests and the hall was empty. It was now quiet downstairs.

  Just to be safe, he double-checked the doors and windows throughout the house and then returned to his room on the first floor. With various guests in the house, it would be difficult to assure that all the doors and windows remained locked without scaring the guests. Nor could he set the alarm in case a guest wanted to go outside.

  Why are you so worried? Dead men don’t crawl through windows.

  The ring had set off new concerns. Had Fox left it on his first visit? Or had he somehow returned?

  Zach sat down on the edge of the cot. Until there was a body—definitive proof of Fox’s death—Zach would remain vigilant even if it meant sleeping with one eye open.