Lancaster County Target

by Kit Wilkinson

  Was that what was bothering her? Not the adoption, but the money? That made sense and yet it hadn’t even occurred to him. “My parents—my adoptive parents, the Jamisons—did very well. They both came from society families. Then professionally, they were high-paid doctors with an elite clientele. They made good investments. They started several charities and foundations. They left me in charge of all of them, which means I get to decide where all that money goes. A lot of people in New York were surprised about that.”

  “Well, who else would have been in charge of it?”

  “Lawyers. My parents’ partners in their medical practices—particularly for the medically related charities. There are several people who could have been left in charge of various organizations. Like Dr. Granger, even. The doctor whose name is on Hancock’s file. He is very involved in one particular foundation that helps underprivileged children with operable birth defects. And there are others, too. It puts me in high demand. I feel really guilty saying this but it’s awfully nice to get away.”

  “Is that why you get so many phone calls?”

  “Yes, everyone needs me to get money. You might not have noticed but I left the phone in the car at your brother’s. I didn’t want to risk getting reprimanded by Hannah again.”

  Finally, he got a smile from her. “Do you enjoy all that work?”

  “I don’t know. My parents left it to me, so I feel like I need to do a good job. The charities help a lot of people. I don’t want to see that fall apart. I have a responsibility to see it through.”

  “But do you like it? The work?”

  Blake paused. “No one’s ever asked me that. I don’t know. I just do it. I guess I never thought about whether or not I liked it.”

  “Well, I love my work. I love being a nurse. I love my clinic.” Abby relaxed a little, but then frowned again. He could see another question forming in her quick mind. “So why did you come here for so long? Aren’t you needed back home? You could have searched for your relatives from New York. Right?”

  Blake shrugged. That was a good question. But he wasn’t ready to answer it. He didn’t know the reason himself. “Seemed like I should do it myself, in person.”

  Abby sucked in a big breath.

  “Are you nervous about the ID or do you have something to say?”

  “Something to say.” She laughed. “Guess I’m not too good at hiding my feelings.”

  “Say it,” Blake said. “I really don’t have anything to hide, despite how McClendon made it look. And I’m open to anything you want to tell me.” As he spoke, he realized that that was the first time he’d ever said that to anyone.

  “Well, okay, then...it’s just that I don’t see how your real parents could be Amish. You very well could have been born here in Lancaster. In Willow Trace even, but it’s very unlikely that your parents are Amish.”

  He nodded, carefully watching her suspicious expressions. “You may be right, but my mother’s letter says they were. You don’t believe her?”

  “I’m sure your mother told you what she knew. It’s just that...”

  “It’s just that what?”

  “Well, it’s unlikely that an Amish couple would give up a child. Especially a son. Having sons means having farm help and labor for most families. Not to mention, every Amish church pools together an emergency fund that helps any families in need. We take care of our own. If an Amish family wanted to keep a child, everyone in the community would do anything they could to make that happen. And if that wasn’t possible, they’d settle the baby with another Amish family.”

  He looked down, taking in her logic. “I didn’t know that.”

  “And it’s not merely that. It’s also the impact your search might have on the people you’re searching for.”

  “How do you mean?” Blake wanted to hear her thoughts. Having been raised Amish, she would have much more insight into the effects of his family connections.

  “Well, can you imagine? You have the trauma of giving up a child and never thinking you’ll see him again. If that child came back, it would bring up those emotions and hurt all over again. Not to mention the effect it would have on other family members. This isn’t a small thing you are talking about. It’s an event that would change many people’s lives. Not just your own.”

  She touched his hand softly. The contact sent all sorts of feeling rushing through him. He thought of her words and her wisdom.

  “This is important to you, isn’t it?” Her voice was soft. “I’m sorry. It’s really none of my business. I shouldn’t have said anything. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  Blake swallowed hard, pulling his hand away from her. What if Abby was right? What if his one clue to track down his parents wasn’t true? The thought left Blake feeling hollow inside. “It is important to me. I wasn’t sure how I felt about it at first. But now that I’m here, I really want to know. I want to know if I’m from here.”

  He looked out the windshield at the beautiful rolling hills, the draping evergreens and the scattered farmhouses. It felt like home to him. A lifetime of living in the city and one trip to Lancaster and this—this rural countryside he’d never seen before felt like home. Either he was imagining the calm comfort he felt inside or this land was in his bones.

  “What about McClendon’s suspicions that your decision to come here started all this mess?”

  Abby’s direct question shook him from his daydreams of home and family. “Should I take it from your tone that it’s now your suspicion, too?”

  “Well, it does seem coincidental. Too coincidental. Your name mysteriously appearing on the chart? The former doctor being a friend of the family?”

  What was she thinking? Blake lowered his brows. “You think I dosed Hancock? Or let him die?”

  Abby looked at him as if he’d grown two heads. “No. Of course not. If I thought that I wouldn’t be in this car with you. I’m just saying that... Well, I don’t know what I’m saying. I just want to make sense of all of this. And it doesn’t make sense, does it?”

  Blake shook his head. “No, it doesn’t. And I want to make sense of it, too.”

  He parked in front of the hospital in the convenient physicians’ parking. They walked inside and headed down to the morgue. The pit-bull detective, Langer, was waiting for them.

  “One at a time. And no commenting to each other in between viewings.”

  Abby went first. It didn’t take but a couple of minutes and she was back out. She didn’t even look at Blake as she passed. He followed Langer in. The autopsist stood by a table with a body lying on it, covered with a sheet. Langer nodded to the other doctor, who lifted back the sheet, revealing the face of the body. Short, bald, olive skin.

  Blake nodded. “Yep. That’s...that’s Hancock.”

  SEVEN

  You cannot serve both God and the world, Abigail. Her father’s words echoed through her head. What do you know about this Englischer?

  She glanced over at Blake. He was bent over her clinic floor, sweeping the last bit of glass into a dustpan. They had been working on her messy clinic ever since they’d left the morgue.

  Her father had been right. She didn’t know much about Dr. Blake Jamison. It seemed the more she learned about him the more confused it all became.

  “Thanks for helping,” she said. “I’m sure you have something else you’d rather be doing.”

  “Not really.” Blake dumped the rest of the glass into the trash. “I’m glad to help. Like I said, it’s nice to get my mind off things.”

  “So, what have you done in searching for your parents?”

  He narrowed his eyes at her in a playful manner. “You sure you want to know?”

  “I asked.”

  “Well, I went out early this morning to the lawyer’s office—the lawyer who supposedly handled my adop
tion, according to my mother and the paperwork her lawyer compiled.” Blake crossed his arms over his chest. She couldn’t help but notice the muscular definition of his arms under his rolled-up sleeves, or the way his skin was sprinkled with freckles. “The receptionist really gave me the runaround. Told me I had the wrong lawyer. She wouldn’t even let me speak to Mr. Linton. It was very strange.”

  “So, what now?”

  “I can’t imagine why, but I’m almost certain she was lying to me. So, I left a message for Mr. Pooler, my mother’s lawyer back in New York, to see if there is anything he can do or suggest to me. I’m hoping he calls me back this afternoon.”

  “Well, don’t be too discouraged even if he doesn’t. There are other ways to find your birth parents.”

  Blake gave her a long, sideways look. “I thought you didn’t approve of my quest. Now more questions and suggestions?”

  “Well, if you don’t want to hear it...” She started to walk away.

  “No, no. I do. I value your opinion.”

  “You know, just because we are different and don’t agree about this doesn’t mean I can’t be helpful.” She finished arranging her supplies and leaned her weight over the counter, letting his compliment wash over her.

  He leaned toward her. Was he flirting? She backed away, remembering her promise to her father. Even if she were attracted to Blake, which she wasn’t, she would never go back on that promise. She’d broken her father’s heart once. She wouldn’t do it again. Anyway, it wasn’t even an issue because she hardly even liked him and they had nothing in common. Nothing at all to worry about.

  “Actually, while you were talking to your dad, Eli told me that he could help me get into the town hall and gain access to the public birth records there.” He stood back again as if suddenly aware that he’d entered her personal space. His freckled cheeks flushed. “I think I might take him up on that.”

  “Eli can be very resourceful when it comes to getting information.” She motioned toward the kitchen. “I don’t know about you, but I’m starving. Want to join me for a sandwich? It’s the least I can do after all your help. I had no idea it would take so long.”

  “Sounds great.”

  She led him to the kitchen, where just the night before they’d seen an intruder.

  “What can I do to help?”

  Abby thought for a second, then headed to the refrigerator. “You can sit down and tell me what you like on your sandwich.”

  “The works.” Blake pulled his cell phone from his back pocket and placed it on the kitchen table as he took a seat.

  “Phone’s been quiet today,” Abby commented as she grabbed condiments, sliced honey ham, lettuce, pickles and tomatoes.

  Almost as soon as the words were said, his cell began to vibrate on the table. Her eyes gravitated to the large image on its big touch screen—the very clear image of a lovely, sophisticated brunette. The name Natalie flashed across the top. Blake picked up the device quickly. Too quickly. “Oh, no. You spoke too soon. Excuse me.”

  “Of course.” She turned back to the counter quickly, feeling as if she’d imposed on his privacy. Of course Blake had a girlfriend. What did she care?

  She shook her head. She was only glad her father wasn’t there.

  * * *

  “Hello.” Why had he grabbed the phone so quickly and stepped out of the kitchen as if he’d needed serious privacy to talk to Natalie? He had no idea—he only wished he hadn’t done it. Not that Abigail would care. She was not interested in him as anything more than a friend, but it still gave the wrong impression. It made it seem as if he had something to hide from her when in reality, she was the one person he felt completely comfortable telling the truth.

  “Blake!” Natalie’s voice was cheerful but guarded. “I—I was just going to leave you a message to remind you of the fund-raising gala next weekend. I hope you’re still going to be my date.”

  “Look, Nat. I’m still in Pennsylvania and in the middle of something. I can’t—”

  “You’re not canceling on me, are you?”

  Yes, he wanted to say. But how could he miss the gala? It was a fund-raiser for one of his parents’ charities. Didn’t he owe it to their memory to attend? And anyway, it was still several days away. This mess with Hancock and the lawyer’s strange behavior might be completely resolved by then. “Things here are a little up in the air—I don’t know when I’ll be getting back to town. I’ll call you later. Can’t talk right now. Goodbye, Natalie.

  “I don’t know why I walked out of the room to take that,” he said as he reentered the kitchen.

  “None of my business.” Abby put their sandwiches on the table, turned and smiled at him. “Anyway, no one likes to blab in front of others on a cell phone.”

  Her nonchalant attitude stung. Clearly she couldn’t have cared less about whom he was talking to on the phone.

  Blake looked down hungrily at the food but waited as he noticed Abby did not eat.

  “Would you mind if I said grace?”

  “Of course not.”

  Abby bowed her head. “Dear Father, thank You for providing this meal for us. Thank You for Your hand upon us, which has kept us safe. Thank You for new friends and the blessing of a helping hand. Amen.”

  “Amen,” he repeated. That was two days in a row now he had prayed, after so long a hiatus. The feeling it brought him was sharp and pricked right at his heart.

  “Are you a praying man, Blake?”

  “Why? Do I look awkward about it?” He tried to laugh as if his words were meant as a joke. Abby’s face showed that her answer, if she had answered, would have been in the affirmative. “Yes, I am,” he clarified. “It’s just been a while.”

  “You should change that.”

  “I think I should change a lot of things in my life.”

  Blake felt as if he could talk to Abby about anything. He had the strongest urge to reach out and touch her long, silky hair. He wanted to know what it would feel like in his fingers. But he could see in her interactions with him that she did not feel that way about him. He needed to push away his silly and fruitless thoughts.

  It was for the best that she wasn’t interested in him as anything but a friend. The last thing he needed was to get attached to someone right now. His life was a wreck. He could barely handle things as they were. But then why did he feel so relaxed and content here and at the Millers’ and working alongside Abby in the clinic?

  “So you live here alone? No boyfriend? No husband?” he teased. “You said that was a common topic around here, so I thought I’d bring it up again.”

  His words caused her to blush. “No. I courted some here and there. Mostly Amish men. A few Englischers. Nothing serious. I’m not interested in marriage. I just want to run my clinic and help people. It’s my calling in life and I feel God wants me to be 100 percent devoted to it. If I marry and have a family, I can’t give 100 percent. But I haven’t always been alone here. I did have a roommate for a while. A young girl from Philadelphia. She’s at college now.”

  Not interested in marriage? Blake was stunned. And if he was really honest with himself, he was a little bit disappointed, too. He’d not thought of Abby as the career-driven type. But all the more reason to keep it professional between the two of them.

  After they finished, Abby snatched up both the plates with a grin and headed to the sink.

  “Let me help.” His hand brushed against hers as she passed with the plates.

  “You’ve done more than your fair share of cleaning up around here. And I have really appreciated it.”

  Blake started to respond but once again his cell phone vibrated. “It’s Pooler, the lawyer. Do you mind?”

  She shook her head and smiled.

  The lawyer that looked so much like Linton.... Blake found himself wondering just how
much he should share with Pooler. His gut seemed to tell him to trust the man as little as possible.

  * * *

  After a quick phone call, Blake came back into the kitchen with a look of hope on his face. “Can you believe my lawyer was able to get ahold of Mr. Linton and set up a real meeting for this afternoon? Apparently, the brush-off I got before was just because the receptionist doesn’t take too kindly to walk-ins.”

  “That’s good news for you.” So why did Abby get a sinking feeling about Blake’s plans? After all, it was none of her business. “So, just like that you could find out the names of your real parents? That must be a strange thought.”

  “Yes. Hard to believe, really.” He smiled. “I have to take off, though. If I rush, I’ll just make it. The office is all the way in Millersville.”

  “Well, you’d better get going. Thanks again for your help today, Blake. I guess I’ll see you next time McClendon calls us together or at the hospital sometime.” It felt strange to Abby to be saying goodbye to Blake after all the intensity of being with him over the past day and a half.

  “Thanks for lunch.” He started toward the front door and she followed him to see him out. “You should think about a security system.”

  “You sound like Eli.” She laughed. “Truth is, I can’t afford one. I don’t charge most of my patients and I only work part-time at the hospital, so things are a little tight.”

  “You don’t charge your patients?”

  “Not money—not if they can’t afford it. Sometimes they pay cash. If not, they pay me in other ways. Food, usually. I’ve gotten a few quilts. One couple whose twins I delivered brought me a pig.”

  “So, you buy all this medicine and these supplies out of your own pocket?” He looked incredulous, as if he’d never heard of such a thing.

  “Haven’t you ever worked at a free clinic? Or offered your services to the poor?”