Crash!
It came from the garage and caught them both by surprise. Keely turned off the iron and headed for the door."Grady! What fell?" Burke stayed at her heels through the connecting breezeway to the garage. "Grady!" she shouted.
Her brother bounced up from a pile of empty paint cans that he'd fallen backwards onto. His face twisted, he picked up the nearest object, a baby car seat. He sent it flying at Burke's nephew.
Nick caught it.
"Nick!" At her elbow, Burke yelled, "Stop!"
Nick ignored his uncle and lobbed the car seat back—hard.
Grady grabbed it.
"Grady!" she scolded.
But this time, with a glare at Keely, he slammed the car seat as hard as he could down to the cement floor. The plastic seat thudded and bounced twice before landing on its side. Between the two bounces, something small and golden flew out from under the thick padding and onto the floor.
What was it? Keely heard Burke breaking up the fight. She walked over and bent down to look at what the fight had dislodged. It was a heart-shaped pendant on a gold chain that had the look of a family heirloom. This wasn't just any car seat. This was the car seat the baby girl who the Weavers had taken in had come to Steadfast in.
Was this what Keely thought it might be—a clue to who the baby girl was? Could this possibly have been in the seat from the beginning, from that day in January when the car had exploded? She stopped herself from touching the heart pendant. There might be fingerprints.
Or could it simply be Penny's? But it didn't look like anything Penny would have handled around the baby, let alone to let it slip under the padding of the car seat. She'd never seen Penny wearing anything like it. And her friend hadn't mentioned losing anything of value. "Burke," she called.
"What?"
"Call the sheriff...now." She stared at the pendant, trying to make out the elaborate but faint engraving on it.
"What ...why?"
"There's something here—it fell from the car seat." She swallowed, trying to moisten her mouth. "Penny Weaver brought that car seat in." Keely's voice shook as she thought about how this might affect her friend. "This is the car seat that Weavers' foster daughter, the one your department has been trying to identify since January, was found in—"
Burke was at her side. "That's the car seat from the car that exploded?"
"Yes," she said, still staring at the necklace. "Maybe we should just call the Weavers."
Burke snapped open his cell phone. "We need them and Rodd. Don't touch that heart."
Just over an hour later, Penny and Bruce Weaver, Rodd, Burke, and Keely sat around the oblong table in the small kitchen of the thrift shop. Keely had folded up the ironing board and poured iced tea, which no one was drinking. The softly buzzing window fan near the sink blew fresh air into the room, the atmosphere already heavy with concern.
Keely felt it inside her, a dull heavy ache in her midsection. Burke and the sheriff had donned gloves and examined the car seat thoroughly. They had found a slit on the underside of the padding. The slit had obviously been cut and then glued shut so the pendant had been concealed on purpose. The tossing of the seat, and then Grady's slamming it to the floor had broken the seal, and the necklace had flown out.
Now the car seat sat in the middle of the table and beside it on an envelope lay the vintage golden pendant. The name Maria was engraved faintly on the heart.
Both Penny and her husband, an attractive couple in their early thirties, looked subdued. Their dour expressions belied the fact that they were dressed for a picnic, for fun. They held hands.
After Burke's call, Rodd had come straight from his farm. He looked grim. Keely's heart went out to him too. No doubt he was remembering the day in January when he'd lifted this car seat with the baby in it out of the car. And then as he carried the baby to safety, behind him the car had exploded into flames.
Keely glanced across at Burke. His eyes had that shuttered look she'd begun to recognize. That look signaled that his mind was turning, turning, examining events and he didn't want to be disturbed.
Somehow having his fight with Nick overshadowed had irritated Grady. Her brother had driven off in a huff. And Grady's rude words upon leaving still grated on her. What had Burke thought of her brother and his nephew fighting with each other? It could only lower his opinion of her brother. But then her brother had inherited her father's attitude--what others thought of a Turner didn't matter.
A muffled whistling came from the garage. Grady's departure had left Nick alone, whom Burke had then ordered to sort clothing as punishment for fighting with her brother. Keely hoped Nick wouldn't take a dislike to the Family Closet over this. It was the kind of place he needed to volunteer at, a place that could show him how much worse life could be if one didn't count the cost. Nick had shown himself to be a better sport than her brother. He'd appeared chasened by the breaking of the car seat and the appearance of the necklace. Now Nick's insouciant whistling contrasted sharply with the somber mood of the five around the table.
"The waiting," Penny, looking crushed, began, "has been the worst."
"Don't jump to conclusions," Keely said. "You might end up keeping Rachel."
"I don't want to keep her from her birth mother. And the pendant isn't mine." Penny brushed the sheen of tears from her eyes. "It must belong to Rachel, to her mother...."
"The car seat might have been borrowed," Burke cut in, "or Rachel's mother might have bought it at another thrift shop and never knew the necklace was there. This might lead us to your foster child's parents or it might be another dead end."
Burke's logic was irrefutable. This might not give them the answer. It might only add another question to the unsolved mystery of who baby Rachel belonged to. This further lowered the mood around the table.
Keely longed to leave this serious scene. Just an hour ago, she'd looked forward to a quiet day here, peacefully sheltered in this, her second home. But now she wanted to escape. Sunshine pouring through the windows and the warm breezes beckoned her.
Keely looked at the grave faces around her. "What do we do now?"
"First, we have to find out if anyone around here recognizes this necklace." Rodd pointed to it. "It's distinctive, obviously old, and engraved with the name Maria, so it should be easily identified. And second, the fact is the car was in this county when the accident happened."
He looked around, his jaw line jutting out as though he expected an argument. "This county isn't a destination anyone would just casually choose, especially in January. Especially last January, the coldest and snowiest recorded in nearly fifty years. If the couple who died . . ." Rodd took a deep breath. "If little Rachel is connected with anyone around here, this could be the link we've been hoping for."
"The couple might have been driving through here on their way somewhere north or west," Bruce offered, lifting one hand in obvious frustration.
Rodd nodded. "That means I'll need to get this story out to the papers—first to Cram for the Steadfast Times but also as far north as Duluth, west to Minneapolis, east to Green Bay, and everywhere in between. I'll take a digital photo of it and fax it out. It's the kind of mystery most small-town papers like to run, and I'll ask for information about it. I won't mention the baby angle the first time around."
"You think it's best to see what pops up first?" Burke asked.
Rodd nodded again. "Right."
"You never know what something like this can stir up," Burke agreed. "We'll probably end up with a lot of false leads. But that's all we can do now."
"That's not all we can do now," Bruce said. "God brought us little Rachel and he knows where she belongs. Let's pray." He took his wife's hand and bowed his head.
Everyone followed his lead. Keely's hand itched to reach out and take Burke's. She remembered how his strong hand had felt when he led her away from the Walachek mobile home. She folded hers together in her lap. The desire to hold the deputy's hand had caught her off guard. She rarely had these flashes of attraction to someone. But that shouldn't surprise her. She spent her life surrounded by adolescents. No attraction there.
"Dear Father," Bruce prayed, "you know how much we have loved having Rachel with us. We are willing to keep this sweet child the rest of our lives, if that's your will. But if she belongs with someone else, if someone else is grieving over losing her, let us find that person, that mother or father. God, we want what you want, the very best for Rachel."
Yes, Lord, Keely prayed, we do. God, this isn't up to us alone. You are acting in this situation and we're grateful.
"Let word of this evidence find the person who needs it. In Christ's name, amen," Bruce finished.
Each of them looked up. The prayer should have eased Keely's tension, but she felt a restlessness, unusual for her. She saw this reflected on Burke's face as he looked back at her. Was it because he suspected her brother of shooting out the school windows? Whether Grady was guilty or not, her brother knew how to push all of her buttons and had done so today. This is all too much for me and too much for Burke. He needs a break. I need a break.
Rodd grinned, showing how his spirit had lightened."Thanks, Bruce. With God, we can't go wrong."
Nick sauntered in, slouching to show he didn't care that he'd been forced to work. "Hey," he grumbled, "I sorted that stuff and I need to go."
The aggrieved voice tightened Keely's neck muscles. Could I have one day off from teenagers?
"Harlan wanted me to drive him to the VFW Labor Day picnic." Nick glared at the adults.
Rodd stood up. "I'll drop you at Harlan's. It's on my way to Cram's." Rodd looked at Burke. "I'll take the photo of the necklace right away and get busy on the fax machine. But I don't want you working on this. Today." He gave Burke a pointed look. "You're not the sheriff and this is your day off. You've worked enough overtime since you arrived in Steadfast to finally make even me feel guilty. Take this lady—" he nodded toward Keely—"out for a bite of lunch." Rodd departed with Nick beside him.
Bewildered by the sheriff's announcement, Keely turned to Penny and hugged her close. "Penny, I'll be praying for you."
Looking close to tears again, Penny nodded. Bruce squeezed Keely's upper arm affectionately and the couple left.
The Weavers' sadness had communicated, spread to her. Keely was so tired of worrying. I
need to do something completely unexpected—something that would let me shed all this worry, tension. But what?
She closed her eyes and an image came to her.
Yes.
That's exactly where I
want to be.
Now all alone in the little kitchen, Keely and Burke looked at each other.
The deputy looked tense, uneasy, ready to explode with frustration. He looked like a man who wanted to be doing, not waiting. Why had Rodd suggested that Burke take her to lunch? Had Rodd caught the matchmaking virus? He didn't seem the type for that. Maybe he just thought she'd keep Burke from spending his day off working on this case in spite of the sheriff's orders. He should know Burke better than anyone else. And it would be nice to . . .
She leaned back against the counter, trying to figure out how to let Burke know that she didn't want to spend this beautiful afternoon alone, but that she didn't consider this a date. Saying that was impossible. Stop thinking and just ask him. "I don't know about you but I can't be serious one more minute."
He studied her and then nodded.
When he made no move or further comment, she decided to take action. And there was only one place to go. If he bowed out, so be it. "Let's get out of here." Without waiting for a reply, she reached for her purse, locked the back door, and headed toward the front. She switched off lights and fans as she went. "Coming?"
"Where are you going?" Burke followed her outside.
She closed and locked the door behind them. "I need something to cheer me up. And so do you. If you're coming, come on."
She jumped into her white SUV. Burke hovered at the passenger door with a show of reluctance.
"I know you'd rather take your vehicle," she said, "but I'm driving 'cause I know the way."
He seemed to consider this. "Okay." He got inside beside and shut the door.
In all their conversations, Burke Sloan had never said a word he didn't need—so unlike her father who liked to hear his own voice--and often.
But Burke's terseness piqued her curiosity. What was going on underneath Burke's deputy sheriff's hat? Thoughts about Nick? And what else? The impulse to remove the lid, to get to know this man was suddenly irresistible. She eased back in her seat, revved her engine once, and took off, gravel flying.
Opening the windows and turning up the country western station, she headed down the back roads she knew so well. Today had turned out the perfect Labor Day—sunny and warm. Everyone's picnics would be held without wearing raincoats and without anchoring everything down so it wouldn't blow away.
The wind through the windows tossed her hair around as they bounced over dirt roads. She felt herself grinning. Tomorrow she'd return to school and again face all its challenges. Today she'd planned to spend the day spiffing up the Family Closet, but plans ...had changed for the better.
Out of the corner of her eye, she observed the handsome deputy, whom every single woman in LaFollette was buzzing about. He was studying her as though she'd suddenly gone crazy. She grinned wider. Confounding him made her feel even freer, more audacious. She tapped the steering wheel in time to the music. It felt so good to run away even if it was only for the afternoon.
Finally, she turned down a rutted lane and skirted a familiar thick stand of pines. The sight before her instantly heightened her joy. She drove up to the building site and parked. After a moment of drinking in the view, she glanced at him. "This is ...will be my home soon." She opened her door and jumped out. "Come on in." Keely left Burke behind in her car.