The Search The Secrets of Crittenden Cou

Epilogue




“Once, when the rains came, the whole community gathered at the Yoders’ greenhouse. When the water got high, we all carried furniture to safety. Our clothes were soaked, two men caught pneumonia. When I got up the nerve to ask Perry where he’d been, he’d just shrugged.”

JACOB SCHROCK




Luke was walking along the well line again, thinking about the case, about how sure he’d been that the sunglasses were the link to Perry’s killer . . . and then how they’d only led him to a whole other investigation.

Pulling out the file he’d brought with him to the Millers’ property, he reread the medical examiner’s findings—about how there had been traces of meth in Perry’s blood, but an overdose hadn’t killed him. His death had been caused by the trauma to his head.

“Who killed you, Perry?” he asked and listened as his voice echoed across the empty field.

He wanted to do right by the kid, the kid who’d caused so much trouble to so many people. But who had also been a victim. “Who did this?”

He knew Mose was getting pressure from Perry’s parents to drop the investigation. The Borntragers wanted everything to be over. They wanted to move on with their lives. They were willing to accept the idea that a drug dealer from outside the county killed Perry.

Mose hadn’t said it, but Luke knew the sheriff was leaning toward that route, too. They weren’t finding much, and seemed only to be hurting a lot of local people by continuing to ask questions.

Everyone seemed to be in agreement that some things were better left alone.

But that wasn’t the way to do it. Flipping through the pages again, he started skimming interview notes, looking for common phrases, discrepancies that a careful reading didn’t always register.

Then he saw it.

Times that didn’t match up. A mixed-up alibi. An obvious lie. A person several people happened to notice walking toward the Millers’ farm.

And suddenly—to Luke at least—it all made sense.

Finally, after thirty-two days in Crittenden County, the killer had been found.

Now all he had to do was figure out how to prove it.





Author’s Note





Dear Reader,

Every so often, a particular character seems to take on a life of his or her own. In The Search, that person was Beth. When I began the novel, Beth’s whole purpose was to call for help when Frannie got hurt. That was it. She was supposed to be a minor, secondary character who would appear in one scene, maybe two at the most.

But I guess Beth had other ideas! Before I knew it, Beth had a last name, a mother fighting a disease, a job caring for children, and had set up shop in Frannie’s kitchen. Then, when Chris Ellis walked in that kitchen, a whole new storyline emerged. I really had no choice but to accept that Beth and Chris needed to be a part of the book!

Discovering a new character or storyline is what I love about writing, and especially what I love about writing these trilogies for Avon Inspire. I so appreciate that I’m given the freedom to include new characters that I hadn’t planned for, and I am thankful that I’m given the chance to see where those characters take me.

I hope you’ve been enjoying this series, and this journey into Kentucky’s Crittenden County. As I write this, I’m putting the finishing touches on Found and have already started thinking about a new series. I can’t wait to research a new setting and develop a whole new plot and cast of characters!

But first, no letter would be complete without me offering my thanks to the many, many people who work so hard to make these books the best they can be. Thank you to my editors Cindy and Julia, to my publicist Joanne, to the art department for the beautiful covers, and to all the folks at Harper who do so much for me. I feel so blessed to work with you all.

And thank you, of course, to all of you who pick up my books and give them a try. Thank you for writing me about them, and for telling your sisters and aunts and neighbors about them, too! Thanks to all of you who’ve asked your librarians and local booksellers to carry my books as well. It’s because of all of you that I get to write every day. And for that, I am so very grateful.

With my blessings,



Please “friend” me on Facebook, visit me at my website, or write to me at:

Shelley Shepard Gray,

10663 Loveland, Madeira Rd. #167,

Loveland, OH 45140





Questions for Discussion





1. All of the characters in The Search yearn not only to discover the truth about Perry’s murder, but also the truth about themselves. For Frannie, it’s that she couldn’t really ever love Perry, but that she could love Luke. What was it about Luke that Frannie needed? What do you think would have happened to her if she hadn’t met Luke?


2. How does Luke’s search for the killer mirror his own search to be accepted? Who do you think was more responsible for Luke’s acceptance in Crittenden County—Mose or Frannie?


3. What did you think of Frannie’s relationship with her father?


4. We learn a lot more about Deborah Borntrager in Found, the final book in the series. Is she responsible for her brother’s actions? Are any of us responsible for other family members’ choices in life? Have you ever had a family member who grew hard to love?


5. Lydia and Walker are learning that while they love each other, sometimes love isn’t enough to sustain a relationship. Do you know of anyone in your life who’s had the same type of experiences?


6. There were definite sparks between Beth and Chris, but ultimately neither was ready for a commitment. Was Chris right to leave the way he did? Or would it have been better for them to keep in touch?


7. Frannie has a good heart, and it’s shown in the hospital with her “mystery” roommate, but also in her dealings with her friends and with her father. Who do you know in your life who is a lot like Frannie?


8. What do you think would happen to the characters in Crittenden County if Luke and Mose never solved Perry’s murder? Why is closure such an important part of moving on?


9. I focused on the verse from Philippians, “I have learned, in whatsoever state I am, therewith to be content,” while writing this novel. Learning to accept God’s will and “to be content” is a goal of mine. Have you learned to “be content” during all times? When is it the easiest? When is it the hardest for you?


10. I thought the Amish proverb, “Though no one can go back and make a brand new start, anyone can start from now and make a brand new end,” was a perfect fit for Frannie and Luke. Both characters are ready to begin a new journey in their lives. What about you? Have you ever taken a chance on a new direction in your life?





About the Author





SHELLEY SHEPARD GRAY is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of the Families of Honor, Seasons of Sugarcreek, and Sisters of the Heart series. She lives with her family in southern Ohio, where she writes full-time.

www.shelleyshepardgray.com

Visit www.AuthorTracker.com for exclusive information on your favorite HarperCollins authors.





Also by Shelley Shepard Gray





Also by Shelley Shepard Gray





Sisters of the Heart series

Hidden

Wanted

Forgiven

Grace

Seasons of Sugarcreek series

Winter’s Awakening

Spring’s Renewal

Autumn’s Promise

Christmas in Sugarcreek

Families of Honor

The Caregiver

The Protector

The Survivor

The Secrets of Crittenden County

Missing





Turn the page for an exciting preview of Shelley Shepard Gray’s next book,

Found

On sale September 2012





Jacob Schrock knew how to keep a secret. It was the way he had been raised.

His parents ran Schrock’s Variety, which was in a lot of ways the center of their community.

Since he was his parents’ only child, he’d always known he would take over the business. Even when he was small, sitting by his parents’ side at the front counter, he felt a part of things. He also learned that selling merchandise to most of their friends and neighbors meant being privy to a lot of information they’d just as soon keep private.

“It’s not our place to comment on purchases, Jacob,” his father had told him all his life. “We offer things for them to buy, not gossip about.”

By the time he was six or seven, he had taken that advice to heart. He became adept at going about his business with only half an ear to the private conversations floating around him.

Now, though, he wished he hadn’t gotten so good at hiding his emotions.

“You sure you don’t want to come over to our house tomorrow night?” Lydia Plank asked. “My mamm’s going to make popcorn and hot chocolate.”

“And probably another hundred things,” Frannie Eicher said. “Your mother is a wonderful-gut cook.”

As Jacob sat, listening to his friends chatter, he felt the iron grip within which he’d held himself so tightly slowly loosen. He’d missed this. He missed this . . . normality.

He and a group of his friends—Lydia, Walker Anderson, Beth Byler, and Frannie—sitting on the store’s porch, some in rockers, some on the porch railing, drinking hot apple cider, eating day-old donuts, and basically doing what people his age did when they could—gossiping about their lives.

This slice of normal life was just what he needed.

He craved it after what had happened during his last argument with Perry.

Still talking food, Lydia grinned. “My mother has a reason for making so many treats for me and my friends. She knows if everyone’s there, she’ll be able to know what we’re doing.”

“We are all over eighteen,” Beth said. Looking around, she added, “Most of us are over twenty. Your mamm shouldn’t care what we do anymore.”

Frannie grabbed another donut and scoffed. “Parents always care, Beth.”

“My mamm is interested, but she’ll stay out of the way, I promise,” Lydia said. “It will be fun.”

“Sounds exciting,” Walker Anderson said sarcastically, but not in a mean way. Just because he was English didn’t mean he was stuck up like that. But he didn’t hang out with them much.

Jacob considered accepting Lydia’s invitation, but only for a minute. If he went, the conversation inevitably would turn to talk of Perry, of his recent exploits, his new friends, and of how Jacob’s father had fired him.

Jacob definitely didn’t want to go down that rabbit hole. “I don’t think I can make it, but thanks for asking,” he said.

Ever since his father had fired Perry Borntrager for stealing money out of the cashbox, Jacob had been feeling more and more out of sorts. Perry was angry and hurt that Jacob hadn’t warned him that he was going to be let go.

And though his daed had been right, Jacob was mad at Perry about the thefts. It had been so uncomfortable—after all, he and Perry had been friends all their lives.

To make matters worse, everyone in the county seemed to know what had happened. And Jacob, used to keeping others’ secrets, had been having a difficult time dealing with how everyone knew one of his.

Now, a few weeks later, things hadn’t gotten all that much easier. Perry was lurking around the store with new Englischers. Sometimes even wearing fancy sunglasses—of all things—even when it was dark outside.

The two of them, once close friends, had become distant. A lot of anger pulsed between them—misplaced, on Perry’s part, thought Jacob. Perry never was one to take responsibility for his actions.

And as Jacob had watched his father struggle with firing a boy he’d practically helped raise, Jacob’s resentment grew—so angry that Perry had taken advantage of his family, of their friendship.

And that he’d never even apologized.

Lydia shrugged and Jacob was brought back to the present. “All right, Jacob. But if you change your mind . . .”

“If I change my mind, I’ll let you know,” he replied. He breathed deep, desperate to push away his dark thoughts. Desperate to concentrate on the friends he still had.

But then, another glance toward Lydia, and then over her shoulder, proved that goal was going to be impossible to achieve. “I can’t believe he had the nerve to come around here.”

Of course, his barely suppressed anger brought everyone else to their feet, and turning around they all saw that Perry was walking toward the store with his sister Deborah at his side.

As if any of them would want to talk to those two.

Lydia closed her eyes and sighed at the sight of her ex-boyfriend.

“You don’t have to talk to him, Lydia,” Jacob blurted. He knew breaking up with him had broken her heart. “We should go inside and ignore them both.” In two seconds, all of them could be inside and pretend the Borntragers weren’t a stone’s throw away.

“You want to ignore Deborah?” Frannie asked, her tone horrified. “Jacob, we can’t do that. It wouldn’t be right. Deborah’s never done anything wrong.”

Still more concerned with Lydia who had tears in her eyes, and, selfishly, himself, he said, “I still don’t want to talk to them.”

But Beth—being Beth—couldn’t seem to let it go. “But that don’t make sense, Jacob. You can’t blame Deborah for her brother’s actions.”

Sure he could. He’d always taken responsibility for his family and their actions. He expected the same of others. Plus, he’d watched enough families in the store to know that most family members were aware of what other people in their homes did.

There was no doubt in his mind that Deborah had known that Perry was stealing from the store. For that matter, she’d probably known all along and had been protecting Perry.

“Don’t make a big deal out of nothing, Jacob,” Walker said. “It’s still a free country. You can’t expect Perry to never walk on your store’s sidewalk.”

Jacob knew Walker was probably right. And when he spied Deborah casting a quick, longing glance their way, he knew Beth was probably right, too. It was wrong to shun Perry’s sister for his crimes.

But just because he knew what the right thing to do was, it didn’t mean he had to do it. So instead of relaxing, he rose and stood near the door to the store. Watching and glaring. Waiting for them to walk by. In just a few minutes, they’d be gone. Then they could relax and pretend that they’d never seen Perry and Deborah.

But Frannie ruined everything. She rushed down the steps and along the sidewalk. “Hi, Deborah. Hey, uh . . . Perry.”

The siblings stopped and looked at her warily.

Beside Jacob, Walker groaned. “I didn’t expect Frannie to run down and greet them,” he muttered.

Jacob held his breath, hating that he had no control over the situation.

He felt completely ineffectual as Frannie barreled on. “Deborah, you want to join us?”

Both siblings looked startled by the invitation. “Well, I don’t know,” Deborah said, looking at Perry.

Jacob gritted his teeth. He ached to tell Frannie to take back the invitation. Or to just leave with Perry and Deborah.

After a split second, Perry turned his head. Met Jacob’s gaze. Jacob stared right back, daring Perry to approach him.

“Go ahead, Deb,” Perry finally murmured. “I don’t care.”

After another pause she nodded. “Okay, then, danke.”

Frannie hooked her arm around Deborah’s elbow and guided her onto the porch. Almost immediately, Beth walked over and hugged the girl.

All the while, Perry stood off to the side. Watching. To Jacob’s surprise, Walker brushed passed him, walked down the steps, and spoke to Perry for a minute or two. Then, with an annoyed shake of his head, Walker rejoined the others on the porch. More cider was poured, more snacks consumed. Their conversation was inane and forced, not a one of them glancing Perry’s way.

Jacob knew they were trying to pretend everything was just fine, but Jacob thought their actions were stupid. Perry was standing right there. On his property. He’d stolen money from his parents, he’d sold drugs to other kids in their community.

He was bad news, and he was trouble and he deserved nothing. Not even to be ignored.

How could his friends look past that?

When another minute passed and Perry still stood on the sidewalk, Jacob walked down the steps. “What are you still doing here? You know you’re not wanted, don’t you?”

“I know. After all, you’ve made sure of that, Jacob.” Laughing softly, he said, “I don’t think I would be welcome to even buy a stick of butter in your store.”

“You’d be correct.”

A look of pain flashed through Perry’s eyes. Surprising Jacob—and, for an instant, making him feel guilty.

Though he sensed his friends behind him were listening—and maybe didn’t even completely approve of the way he was acting—Jacob didn’t give up. “Nothing’s changed. You need to go. I don’t want you here.”

Perry walked closer. Now barely a few feet separated them. Perry was at least thirty pounds heavier than Jacob, and had a good two inches on him, too. A prickly sense of fear inched up Jacob’s spine.

With a hard glare, Perry said, “So is it now against the law to stand here?”

“I don’t know if it’s against the law or not. It don’t matter, though. My father doesn’t want to see you ever again,” he retorted. Though his father had never said that. “I sure don’t.”

An expression flew across Perry’s face. Perhaps it was disdain? Maybe more like disappointment?

After another second, Jacob added, “If Deborah wants to stay without you, I’ll make sure she gets home safely.”

Jacob waited for Perry to argue. To refuse to budge. But instead, he just shrugged and walked away, his shoulders drooping slightly.

Almost as if he had been the one with a reason to be hurt.

Again, Jacob felt guilty. Maybe he shouldn’t have been so mean? Maybe there could’ve been a better way to remind Perry had he’d been the one to ruin their friendship, not Jacob?

His mind on that, he turned around and walked back up the steps. But when he looked at Deborah, sitting calmly there on his family’s front porch . . . as if her family had done nothing wrong, his anger and frustration got the best of him again.

“Listen, I’m going to start locking up. If you all want to hang out together, that’s fine. But do it someplace else.”

Walker stood up to him. “Jacob, I know you’ve got a grudge against Perry, but you need to settle down. I don’t understand why you’re acting so crazy.”

Walker didn’t understand. None of them did. And, maybe he was acting a little crazy.

Actually, he probably was. As he grabbed a plate of the donuts and strode into the dark store, he fought to control his temper.

Prayed for guidance.

Because one thing was sure. If he didn’t find a way to control his temper very soon . . . he would do something he would regret.