The Search The Secrets of Crittenden Cou

Chapter 21




“Perry knew about my crush from the very beginning. More than once, he threatened to tell Jacob Schrock about my foolishness. Funny, I’m still surprised he never said a word.”

DEBORAH BORNTRAGER




Luke had out a tape recorder and his usual pen and tablet. His expression was solemn. And for once, he didn’t look harried around her, or distracted by the pain in his leg. Or eager to trade barbs with her. Instead, he was all business when he turned on the tape recorder and faced her across the kitchen table.

“All right. Let’s begin. Tell me what really happened with those sunglasses, Frannie. Tell me exactly what Perry said when he tried to give them to you. And exactly how you replied.”

It was hard to imagine how one small incident could possibly change her life. Though Luke would be disappointed with her, the things that she remembered had little to do with the actual conversation about the sunglasses and more with her feelings of being betrayed by Perry.

Across from her, Luke snapped at the end of his ballpoint pen. The spring made a little sharp click with each hammer of his thumb.

The recorder was on and Luke was waiting.

She cleared her throat. “Perry gave me the sunglasses as a gift.” Going back to that day, she tried to think about the mixture of emotions she’d been feeling. It wasn’t hard to remember that. She’d been anxious to get away from him. Perry had been suspicious, argumentative, and mean.

“Things between us had been rocky.” She looked at Luke. “I don’t exactly know why I thought they wouldn’t be. For most of our lives, he and Lydia Plank had been courting.”

“And you?”

“Me? Me, I’d been especially close with Micah.” She shrugged. “But there had been something about Perry that was special. Maybe I liked that he felt a little dangerous?” Opening herself up a little more, she said, “To be honest, I thought I could change Perry.”

“Change how?”

“I thought if he had me, I could guide him back to our ways. I thought if he loved me and if I loved him enough, he would forget about the drugs and the Englischers, and the outside world.” She cleared her throat, fighting back the thick feeling that always came when she remembered just how naïve she’d been. “Anyway, when were in that field, he’d tried to give the sunglasses to me. He acted like the gift was something special.”

He circled back to the original topic. “Tell me about the sunglasses.”

“Well, Perry said a friend of his had given him two pairs, but I didn’t understand why he was giving one pair to me. The glasses were expensive and men’s. I felt like him handing me that pair was a true sign that I was merely an afterthought in his life.”

She continued after swallowing down her disappointment. “After we talked for a little bit, and after he said he wanted to leave, both Crittenden County and our lifestyle, I was eager to put some distance between us.”

“Were you afraid he was going to hurt you?”

“No.”

“Sure about that?” He looked down at his notes. “You’ve said more than once that you had worried about his behavior . . .”

“I didn’t fear him, didn’t fear for my safety. But I was wary and uneasy around him. I don’t know what I was feeling, if you want to know the whole truth. I was frightened of him because I didn’t understand how he was acting. But I was also frightened of myself.” She paused, struggling to find the right words. “You have to know how I was feeling back in December.”

“How were you feeling?”

Tears of betrayal stung her eyes. She was so tired of reliving those moments, and so tired of feeling like she was failing in spite of her best intentions. “When Perry and I first started courting, I had hope, Luke,” she blurted. “That is what was different. I was still hopeful that everything between Perry and me would somehow work out. That eventually we would fall in love. I couldn’t imagine that he had any other path to choose. I wanted to believe that he would stop taking drugs, and stop hanging around the dangerous-looking men. I thought if he really wanted to, he would change. If he’d just had a reason.”

“You wanted to be the reason.” His voice was softer—soft with understanding. But now, even his understanding didn’t ease her hurts.

“Yes,” she said, though even saying that one word was a painful thing. “I hoped I mattered enough to make a difference with him. But I didn’t.”

After a moment, he said, “Let me be sure I understand this. He wanted you to have the sunglasses . . .”

“He offered them to me, but I didn’t want them.” Her cheeks burned as she remembered how shocked she’d been. She held up a hand. “And before you go about asking me why yet again, I’ll tell you. Those sunglasses didn’t seem like a gift to me. They were a symbol of everything that he’d become and I was not. They were an afterthought, turned and twisted around in order for him to get me to do something.”

Luke’s head popped up, his eyes piercing. “He wanted you to leave the Amish,” he said softly.

Satisfied that she had his complete attention, Frannie continued. “Yes. But the thing of it is, he knew I wouldn’t have left the order.”

“You’d never leave?”

“I would never leave . . . unless I knew, deep in my heart, that it was the right choice.” But Perry hadn’t been the right person. At the end of the day, she knew that Perry had had no idea what would have made him happy.

Softly, she added, “I didn’t want to change for him, Detective. I didn’t want to be the kind of woman who would change herself for a man.” And though it was almost physically painful, she finished her thought. “I didn’t want to be the kind of woman to change herself for a man like that.”

She sighed. “I ended up throwing those sunglasses into the woods. Then I turned and ran back through the Millers’ farm.”

“Where did you go?”

“Home, of course. I was crying terribly.” Remembering how she’d passed Schrock’s Variety through a haze of tears, she said, “I was so distraught, why I almost ran over poor Jacob Schrock.”

His eyes narrowed. “What?”

“Oh, it was nothing. He was sweeping the front walk of the store when I ran by.” Smiling at the memory she’d almost forgotten, she said, “He was worried about my tears. Angry at Perry for causing me pain. He even offered to walk me home, but I didn’t want any company. I only wanted to be alone.” Bitterly, she smiled. “And I’ve been alone ever since.”

Her words seemed to echo in the room. They sounded sharp and bitter and sad. And maybe they were. She still had a lot of hurt inside her that she couldn’t seem to come to grips with. And here she was, practically shaking with tension, she was trying so hard to keep a tight grip on herself.

And Luke was looking at her with new insight, as if he was suddenly seeing her for the first time. And maybe he was? Perhaps he was finally now seeing her for what she was. Not just an innkeeper. Not just a woman who’d dated a man for a brief amount of time.

Not just a faceless Amish woman, blending into the other women the tourists saw when they came to visit—making the mistake of imagining that all people of the Amish faith act the same way, or believe in the same exact things.

Or love the same way.

Perhaps now Luke saw her through clear eyes, and saw her for what she was. Just Frannie Eicher. No better and no worse. She was strong, but perhaps not strong enough to accomplish what was most important—to help Perry find his way back.

And because of that, no matter in how many ways she would succeed over the years, she was also a failure.

And now Luke knew it, too.

As he stared and her breathing slowed, and the lump in her throat grew, he stood up.

“Frannie, I need to go.”

She stood up, too, and approached him. Figuring she no longer had anything to lose, she said, “Am I the most naïve woman in the world, Luke? Did I simply imagine Perry and I could ever be happy?” She took a breath and continued. “Did I just imagine that there was something between us as well?”

He hadn’t moved. His expression was frozen, as if it was taking everything he had not to show emotion.

“I don’t know about you and Perry. As for us?” He shook his head. “You didn’t imagine it,” he murmured. Reaching out, he clasped one of her hands. Tugged her a little closer. “There’s something about you that draws me close, Frannie. Something that I can’t seem to stay away from.”

“Then don’t stay away.”

There. She’d said it. She’d put her feelings out in the open, just waiting for him to take them to his heart and hold them close.

Something dark flickered in his eyes. And to her surprise, he bent slightly and brushed his lips against hers.

Happiness coursed through her. Everything was going to work out. Somehow, someway, she was going to have Luke. No, they were going to have each other.

“Frannie, I’m a cop. I’m still investigating this murder. Even though there’s something special between us, I don’t think anything can ever become of it. Before long, I’ll be back in Cincinnati . . . and all of this between us will just be a memory.”

She didn’t bother to say a word as he looked at her one last time with regret, then turned and walked out the door.

When she was alone, she lay down on the couch and cried. As usual, she’d misread the man she was interested in. Yet again, she’d begun to have feelings for a man who didn’t deserve them. She’d thought that a man’s smiles meant more; that his desire to visit with her meant that he liked her. She’d imagined that holding hands and exchanging flirty glances were signs of tender feelings. But she’d been wrong. To Luke, she was only a suspect. Her feelings only mattered if they gave him clues.

And now that he had gotten the whole story?

He, like Perry, was gone.

Pippa’s parents had picked her up early, giving Deborah an unexpected few hours of freedom.

Well, freedom of a sort. True freedom would mean she could relax at home and read or do some needlework. Maybe work in the garden a little bit. But being home meant that she would be in her mother’s company—and, like always, that was anything but relaxing.

Her mother was spiraling downward, deeper into depression. Though she tried her best to make a meal or to spend an hour or two with Deborah, more often than not she had taken to bed. Preferring the dark silence instead of the glaring reality of daylight. When she did engage with her family, her mother could only speak of one thing—darling Perry and how upset she was that everyone was saying such hateful things about him. As the days passed, her mother seemed to enjoy reinventing Perry. No longer had he been slightly lazy as a child. No, he’d always been a hard worker.

No longer had he been a picky eater or had a penchant for sneaking Hershey bars.

No, he had been perfect. He certainly hadn’t had a drug problem. And he never, ever would have encouraged others to take drugs.

It didn’t matter that Sheriff Kramer had proof. It didn’t matter if other people came forward with stories about Perry. As far as they were concerned, people were being disrespectful because Perry had passed away and couldn’t offer excuses.

And besides, no one should ever speak poorly of the dead. Especially if the dead was a beloved son.

Deborah was finding it increasingly difficult to talk about Perry with her parents. The more stories that surfaced about his behavior, the deeper they went into denial. To even attempt to correct their delusions was an invitation to punishment from her father.

And their anger about Mose and Detective Reynolds was reaching epic proportions. They firmly placed all blame on those two men’s shoulders, imagining that somehow Mose should have known what Perry had been sneaking around doing. And that they should have solved the crime in a matter of hours, not days or weeks.

Deborah wasn’t sure what the right answers were. But she did know that everything with Perry had been complicated. Complicated enough not to be untangled without a lot of cooperation from everyone who had been involved in Perry’s life.

So she escaped. The day was lovely and the fresh air invigorating. She walked to the park, and was just about to head over to the library when she spied Lydia Plank and Walker Anderson sitting on the swings together.

Lydia spied her and smiled, then waved her over.

After a brief hesitation, Deborah joined them. The community’s newest couple seemed perfect for each other in many ways . . . except for their very different lifestyles. Most folks Deborah knew were keeping their guesses about their religious differences—and their concerns about what would happen to them in the future—to themselves. At the moment, Deborah had heard that Walker was still going to the Congregational Church with his family while Lydia continued to go to church with her family.

“Welcome back,” Lydia said when Deborah got closer. “Walker, you know Deborah, don’t you?”

“Yep.” He smiled. “I saw her in the store the other day, as a matter of fact.”

The reminder of being around Jacob caused Deborah to clear her throat. “How are those puppies?”

He laughed. “Mr. Schrock has already sold two! I never would have imagined that he’d have much luck selling those dogs.”

“They’re really more like small horses,” Deborah said.

“Perhaps that’s why they’re selling?”

“Who knows? At least they’re penned up and cute. I don’t always care for some of Mr. Schrock’s ideas.”

Lydia spoke up. “How are you, Deborah?” she asked kindly. “It’s been quite a time since our paths have crossed. Is your family all right?”

“Yes. They are fine.” But as she met Lydia’s gaze, Deborah knew her lie had been caught. She flushed, knowing she was behaving like her mother. “I mean, we are doing our best.” She shrugged.

“Be sure and tell your parents hello from me.”

“You can tell them yourself on Sunday.”

Lydia stilled. “Perhaps.”

“Is something wrong?”

Lydia and Walker exchanged glances. “No, it’s just that we might be pretty busy for the next few months.”

Deborah raised her eyebrows but tried to keep the promise to herself of not badgering them about their relationship.

“There’s a group of Amish in the next county over who are New.”

“New?”

“New Order,” Lydia explained, coloring slightly. “Walker and I decided to go visit with them for a few Sundays. And I’m going to attend Walker’s church. And we might also visit the Mennonite one, too.”

“We want to be a part of each others’ lives . . . but we’re having a bit of difficulty about making a decision.”

Lydia bit her lip. “Meshing our faiths and interests is a difficult thing.”

Resting a hand over Lydia’s, Walker continued. “I want to be part of Lydia’s life and world. But I’m not quite sure if I can embrace everything your order does,” Walker said slowly. “I talked to my grandparents about it. They’re the ones who suggested that we try out different churches.”

Deborah was shocked. “Is this allowed?”

Lydia shrugged. “I don’t know. No one is real happy about the idea, but after Perry . . .” Her voice drifted off. “I think there’s a part of my parents that understands each person has to go on their own walk with God.”

“Just because someone is different from you, it doesn’t mean he or she is wrong,” Deborah murmured, thinking about her parents’ unyielding views for everyone but Perry.

“Exactly,” Walker said. “I don’t know if belonging to this ‘new order’ is the right step for us. Or if we should become Mennonite.”

“Or if I should become more of a part of Walker’s English world,” Lydia murmured.

“Luckily, our families are being pretty understanding. They seem to understand that it is something we need to investigate.”

“You’re lucky, Lydia,” Deborah blurted. Deborah could never imagine her parents ever being so open.

“My parents like Walker very much,” Lydia said with a quick smile.

“I’m happy for the both of you,” she said, meaning every word.

“Danke,” Lydia said. “Now, where were you off to?”

“Oh, nowhere, just going out for a walk.”

“You should stop by the store and see the pups,” Walker said. “They’re worth a long walk.”

For a moment, she considered lying and telling Walker that she’d stop over soon. But she was tired of lies, and at the moment, very tired of pretending to be happier than she was. “I’m afraid Jacob doesn’t want me to be there,” she said lightly.

“He doesn’t want you at the store?” Walker asked.

“Definitely not at the store.”

“Oh, surely you misunderstood,” Lydia said quickly.

Walker nodded. “Yeah. I bet you just—”

“I didn’t misunderstand. He told me, Walker.” She held up a hand when it looked like Walker was going to argue the point. “But that’s okay with me.” Of course it wasn’t, but what could she say?

“Even if it’s okay, I’ll talk to him,” Walker said. “I know Mr. and Mrs. Schrock would be really upset if they heard about this.”

“Please don’t tell them!”

“Oh, I won’t. I just meant, I bet he didn’t realize how you’d take it. Or how it would sound. I mean, no one blames you for Perry’s actions, Deborah.”

“Are you sure?”

“As sure as I can be. Jacob, well, he’s having a really hard time. That’s all.”

What none of them said was that they’d all been going through a very hard time. Everyone who’d ever known Perry had been affected by his life and his death.

“I know. Like I said, I’m fine. And, goodness . . . I had better get on home. I’m sure my mamm will be wondering why I haven’t shown up to help her with supper.”

After saying goodbye, she turned and walked back toward home . . . thinking about the changes both Walker and Lydia seemed willing to make for their relationship—thinking about the note she’d removed from Perry’s bedside table in order to protect Jacob.

She wondered if Jacob would still hate her if he ever found out what she’d done for him.