Three Can Keep a Secret (14 page)

Chapter Twenty-eight

A half hour later I finished up with the cows and let them loose in the paddock. When I stepped into the office the light on my phone was flashing again. I pushed play, and heard Detective Willard’s voice telling me to call him. I got him at his desk.

“Found out a few things about your employee,” he said. “I was able to get a hold of the lead investigator in Lancaster, a Detective Collins, for the case. He said he was never quite sure what to make of Mr. Lapp’s fall. He didn’t have enough to call it foul play, but he never came up with a satisfying answer as to what happened. Your employee and her husband were quite vague when they were questioned afterward. Both said Mr. Lapp was carrying some big boxes and tripped. Neither one offered any more, or any less. Like they had planned out exactly what to say.”

“Or like that’s what really happened.”

“Sure. Except there was nothing to indicate there’d been anything to make Mr. Lapp trip. Unless it was just his feet, which we all know is a possibility. When the medical people arrived they weren’t concerned about preserving the scene—they were concerned about preserving Mr. Lapp’s life. From what they observed, his body position backs up a fall, but could give no indication whether or not he was pushed.”

“So the cops didn’t blame Lucy, or try to prove a case against her?”

“They checked out every avenue. The most suspicious thing was the large life insurance policy taken out on Mr. Lapp only seven months before. But your employee got a policy, too. From talking to family and friends they found there were certainly some disagreements over religion. Mrs. Lapp had actually stopped going to church with her husband, and tried to keep their daughter at home, as well. She also was fighting to take their daughter out of her private school.”

I remembered Lucy’s face when I’d mentioned Mennonite schools. She had no love for them. At least the one in Lancaster.

“What about other people?” I asked. “Either Lucy or her husband involved in any affairs?”

“Nothing they could find at the time of the accident. When Mr. Lapp died, however, there was some talk of another man.”

Noah? I wondered.

“But,” Willard continued, “Mr. Lapp’s death was pretty straightforward—no talk of foul play there. So Collins couldn’t in good conscience go after Mrs. Lapp’s current relationships.”

An affair while her husband was confined to a wheelchair? Unseemly, but understandable. And not something I really wanted to know.

“The papers mentioned drugs,” I said. “Like Brad had been under the influence when he’d fallen. Any truth to that?”

“None. They ran blood tests right after the accident and found nothing suspicious. He was totally clean. And he had no history of drug use at all. Didn’t even drink.”

At least they had sure answers about something.

“Well, thanks. I appreciate your looking into it.”

“You’re welcome, but I’m not quite done.”

I froze at the sound of his voice. “What?”

“There were some people who made no bones about trying to throw suspicion your employee’s way.”

“What? Who?”

“Her in-laws. They were quite adamant about getting the real story. Brad was hiding something, they said, and they were positive Lucy was, too. They were convinced Lucy had pushed him, but Brad wasn’t about to turn her in. Of course he wouldn’t, they said. He knew she could finish him off in a heartbeat, if he told. A pillow, an overdose, whatever she wanted.

“So the cops were relentless in their investigation. They looked at the families, too—Mr.
and
Mrs. Lapp’s. The only friction they found was over their church. You know how I mentioned your employee had stopped going? Seems she grew up in a much more progressive Mennonite environment, and Brad grew up old school. They’d been attending Brad’s church, and the family—Brad’s and Lucy’s—knew there were some very hard feelings about the way some issues were handled.”

I thought about Uncle Scott, who I’d just met. Tess surely loved him, and the affection in his eyes was plain. Affection for Tess, but not necessarily for Lucy. Brad’s folks I wasn’t so sure about, but just because they were conservative didn’t mean they didn’t have Tess’ best interests at heart. And the woman from Children and Youth had shown up the day after their visit.

“The complaint to Social Services—any way you’d know if Brad’s family initiated it?”

“Not something I could find out. But Detective Collins didn’t sound surprised when I mentioned it.”

“And telling the Children and Youth agent there’s an open homicide investigation?”

“Bunch of hot air, really. Collins told me the case has been closed for two years. When Brad died, his family tried to bring it all up again, claiming Lucy made out very well financially, and that had been her goal from day one.”

I bristled. “Ignoring, of course, the full-time nursing she’d done for her husband for a year since he fell.”

“Grief can make people ignore a lot of things.”

I swallowed.

“But,” Willard said, “Detective Collins knew the investigation was going nowhere. Basically informed the Lapps they needed to salve their grief another way. Looks like they then took the avenue of trying to gain custody of Tess, saying now that Brad had died Lucy would want to move on to other things.”

I thought back over the last few days. A call from the Lapps’ minister saying Lucy was a trouble-maker, a visit from the in-laws to check out the place, and an investigation by the Bucks County Children and Youth. Now today, another visit from Brad’s family. It couldn’t be a coincidence. Whether or not they’d stoop to the offensive graffiti was another matter.

I looked out the window, hearing the rumble of Lenny’s bike.

“Thanks for checking this out for me,” I said. “I really appreciate it.”

“No problem. I’m glad to help. About that graffiti, I was hoping to swing by this afternoon. That work okay? Your farmhand will be around?”

“Getting home right now.”

“I’ll see you later, then, assuming this incoming storm doesn’t give me too much extra work. By the way, did you talk with your friend Mr. Spruce today?”

I hesitated, glancing out the window to see Lenny parking the bike. “Yeah. Went and saw him at his shop.”

“He okay?”

“Seems to be.”

“Good. But why don’t you see if you can get him to come clean with me? I know last night was a true break-in, but if he would tell me the truth, I might be able to prevent anything worse from happening.”

I closed my eyes. So Willard had seen through Lenny’s story. I should’ve known.

“I’ll do my best, Detective,” I said. “But I can’t make any promises.”

Chapter Twenty-nine

I glanced at the sky as Lenny stopped the bike to let Lucy slide off, and noticed the wind had risen dramatically since I’d gone inside. I was glad to see Zach and Tess coming up from the back field.

“Better get on home, Len,” I said, “unless you want to weather the storm here.”

He shook his head. “Promised Bart I’d be back soon. He has some church meeting this evening, and I said I’d cover for him at the shop. Open till eight, you know.”

“Okay. Well, be safe.”

He roared off, and Lucy watched him, a slight smile on her face.

“Had another visitor,” I said.

She blanched. “Not Noah?”

“Nope. Uncle Scott.”

She closed her eyes briefly, then glanced toward Zach and Tess, still fifty yards away. “Tess see him?”

“Sure. Gave him a huge hug, and cried when he left.”

Lucy dipped her head, rubbing the back of her neck. “Sorry he came. My in-laws take every opportunity they can to cause me trouble.”

I shrugged. “It was no trouble. Seemed like a nice enough guy.”

I was hoping this might pull some information from Lucy, but she just shook her head and forced a smile when Tess got close.

“So you got to see Uncle Scott?” she asked.

Tess bobbed her head up and down. “For a few minutes. He had to go.”

“He said he’d be back,” I said.

Lucy’s mouth formed a straight line, but any reply she was going to make was drowned out by a sudden gust of wind, accompanied by the beginnings of a rain shower.

“I’m going in to listen to my weather radio,” I said. “This looks like tornado weather. I don’t like it. Make sure the barn doors are closed and the windows are latched. Zach, help her out.”

Lucy jogged away, but Zach stayed, Tess standing so close to him I was afraid he’d trip when he turned around.

“What about the cows?” Zach asked. “Should we get them inside?”

“They’re fine. They’ll naturally find the safest place. No reason to panic them by herding them in.”

“And aren’t we supposed to leave windows open in tornadoes?”

“A myth,” I said. “Now go help.”

He hustled off, Tess in tow, to do my bidding. I hurried into the kitchen and turned on my radio.

After a couple of irritating minutes of reports about tides and winds at the Jersey shore, the newscast got around to the local forecast.

“A tornado watch has been issued for the following counties until eleven-o’clock p.m.: Northampton, Lehigh, Berks, Montgomery, Bucks—” I snapped the radio off at the mention of our area and trotted back outside to help get things battened down. Queenie pranced around anxiously, yipping at the strong winds and spotty rainfall, and I reached down a hand to soothe her. I couldn’t see Lucy and the kids, so I jogged to the feed barn on my own, making sure the windows and doors were latched. The garage was shut, as was Lucy’s front door, but I noticed a few of her windows stood open. I still didn’t see her, so I ran up the stairs, ribs aching, and entered the apartment.

Once I’d shut her windows I let myself out, only to find her coming up the stairs. She stopped short at the sight of me.

“Sorry,” I said. “I didn’t know where you were, and the windows were open.”

Silently, she turned back around and waited at the base of the stairs. Zach and Tess both stood with Queenie, their hands entwined in her fur. The rain had stopped, and while the sky directly above us and to the southeast mulled black and threatening, the horizon shone with eerie pinkish-gray sunlight. The air went deadly still. A chill rushed through my body, and just as I took the first step down the apartment stairs the town’s siren began to wail. The tornado watch had been upgraded to a tornado warning.

“Everybody inside!” I shouted. “Down to the basement!”

We ran.

The musty cellar was damp and chilled, and while Lucy hustled the kids to the far corner, I quickly emptied the canning shelves of the few fermenting bottles stored there so they wouldn’t crash onto our heads. I stashed the jars on the floor and pulled a wooden table over to where the kids stood.

“Get under,” I said.

“But Smoky’s still outside,” Tess said, her eyes filling.

“He’ll be fine,” Lucy said. “Cats are smart. Besides, his mama will take care of him.”

Still anxious, Tess hunkered down beside Zach. The two of them fit snugly under the table, and Lucy and I huddled as close to them as we could. Queenie pressed against my legs, her whimper high and frightened. The wind outside began again, and rose in ferocity as we waited. I wished I had thought to bring my weather radio down with me. Zach trembled beside me, and I put out my hand to rest it on his back. Shrill whistling through the basement’s windows added to the melee, and just when I thought it couldn’t get any louder, something that sounded like a train came overhead, and smashes and booms reverberated as things hit the house.

We scrunched together, arms over our heads. I’m sure I wasn’t the only one praying.

A long minute later the locomotive was gone, and I relaxed my grip around Zach’s waist. Cautiously I stood and walked toward one of the windows. I peered out.

Thank God we were all okay and the house over our heads was still standing. But the feed barn and the garage—along with Lucy’s apartment—were gone.

Chapter Thirty

We stood outside. None of us said anything. There was nothing to say that would have been meaningful. Where the garage and apartment had been was now a pile of wood and concrete. Lucy’s car was somewhere underneath it.

The mature trees in my yard had been thrashed, huge limbs ripped off the thick trunks, branches falling onto other smaller trees, destroying them, too. My beautiful hickory, under which Howie’s truck was parked, had been demolished, Howie’s truck taking a good bit of the wood in its windows and now dented roof and hood.

The yard was littered with debris—branches, glass, leaves, roofing, downed wires. A disaster site.

I sank down to the step, afraid my legs would give out. Queenie huddled in front of me, but the other three remained where they were.

Fifteen minutes later Jethro and Belle came barreling in the drive, skidding to a stop at a wire that lay menacingly across the gravel. Jethro jumped out of the truck, careful not to touch the potentially lethal cord.

“You’se okay?” he yelled.

Zach made to run to him, but Lucy grabbed his arm. “Those wires, honey. Can’t go over there just yet.”

It took a few moments for my voice to work enough to respond to Jethro. “We’re fine.”

Belle rolled down her window. “We couldn’t get through on the phone. Now we see why. I’ve got our cell. I’ll call the electric company.”

I put up a hand in thanks, and while she called, Jethro stood surveying the destruction. I rested my head on my forearms, a sudden sweat breaking over my body. It had been too close.

A half hour later I was still sitting on the step. Lucy had taken Tess into the house, Smoky in her arms, and Zach sat beside me. His shaking had stopped, but he was pale and quiet.

“Why don’t you go in?” I said. “Get some water. Or something to eat.”

He shook his head. “Not hungry.”

I took a deep breath and let it out. “Me either.”

The PP&L truck soon arrived, and the moment the workers declared the wire dead Jethro and Belle ran over to scoop Zach up in their arms. Jethro turned to hug me, but I threw my arms up, desperate to stay out of his crushing embrace.

“Oh, we’re just so glad…” Belle said, her voice tapering off.

“But Lord,” Jethro said. “Look at this place.”

I couldn’t look anymore, but I needed to check on the herd. I got up and walked away.

The milking cows were fine, having avoided any flying debris by huddling together in the long barn. The heifers, hunkered under the only tree in the back field, wandered around, mooing. But they were fine, too. And thanks to the protection of sturdy hutches—which thankfully hadn’t blown away—the calves were all unhurt.

But once again I had been struck. All blood-fueled creatures were alive, but my trees….My yard….My feed barn and garage….

I stood dully staring out across my field when I felt a presence beside me.

“You okay?” Abe asked.

I shook my head. “Not really.”

“Want to come home with me?”

“Can’t. Got to milk the cows.”

He was silent. “Guess that’s right. Want some help?”

I closed my eyes and concentrated on my breathing. I had lost so much. Again. But Abe was still here, no matter how awkward things felt between us.

“Yes. I’d like some help,” I finally said.

Together, we walked toward the barn. Zach, seeing where we were headed, made to follow, but I stopped him.

“Go home, Zach. You deserve a break after that.”

“But—”

“We’ll be okay. Abe’ll stick around to help.”

Zach glanced at Abe doubtfully, and Abe grinned. “I may not know the job like you, but I can follow orders as well as the next man.”

Zach had to laugh at that.

By the time Lucy, Abe, and I got the cows clipped into their stalls and eating, the electric company had rigged up power to the barn. They know how vital electricity is to farmers, and seeing as how my generator was in the garage when it went, I was dependent on PP&L. Thank God they came through.

Halfway through milking Abe got a call on his cell phone. He handed it to me. “It’s Lenny.”

“Heard about the tornado and tracked down Abe’s number,” Lenny said. “You’re all okay?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll be down in a jiffy.”

“Not really anything for you to do,” I said. “It’s almost dark. We can’t start cleaning up today anymore.”

“It’s not all about things,” Lenny said, and he hung up. Ten minutes later, he was at the farm.

Lucy, who had shown no emotion whatsoever since I’d told her about Scott’s visit, burst into tears as soon as Lenny dismounted his bike. He held her in his arms, and once she let it out she got back to business and we finished up the milking. Tess sat quietly in the corner, stroking Queenie.

“Come on, everybody,” I said. “I think I have some frozen pizza.”

“Uh uh,” Abe said. “I’m getting Mexican. Anybody want to ride along to El Cactus?”

He and Tess were soon back with an array of chips, beans, and burritos, as well as some two-liter bottles of birch beer and Vernor’s. By the time we had inhaled every bite I was feeling a bit more human, although I couldn’t bear to look outside. Even in the dark I could see too much destruction.

We sat around the table, no one quite sure what to say.

“Well,” Lucy finally said. “I guess I can’t blame
this
on my in-laws.”

We laughed too loud, for too long.

When we’d quieted, Abe said, “What now?”

“All I want to do,” I said, “is go to bed.”

Lucy stretched. “Sounds good.”

And we stilled. Lucy no longer had a bed, and I’d been too dense to even consider what that meant.

Everyone stared at me, and my insides crumbled.

“Okay,” I said. My voice cracked, so I cleared it and drank a few sips of soda. “Okay. I guess Lucy and Tess will just have to move in with me.”

***

Moving in took only the time we spent making the spare beds, seeing as how all Lucy and Tess owned had been destroyed. The two extra bedrooms took up almost as much room in my house as the entire apartment had encompassed above the garage.

Belle stopped by a little later, thrusting a bag of Mallory’s hand-me-downs into Lucy’s arms. “They might be a bit big,” she said, “but they’re clean.”

Lucy hugged Belle, and when they separated, both women’s eyes were shiny.

“How’s Zach?” I asked.

Belle smiled, wiping her eyes. “Resilient. Went off to MYF.”

“That’s right,” I said. “It is Wednesday, isn’t it?”

“Willie—Zach’s MYF sponsor—called when Zach hadn’t shown up by seven, and when we told him what happened he thought maybe Zach would like to share his experience with the rest of the kids.”

“Smart man. I bet Zach’s feeling pretty important about now.”

“Probably so.”

“Tell him goodnight for me.”

Belle left, and Tess was soon asleep. Lucy stood in the living room, shuffling her feet, Lenny beside her. I was sitting at the table, Abe in the chair next to me. My brain reeled.
What in the world was I going to do with housemates?

“Come on, Lucy,” Lenny said, earning my everlasting thanks. “Let’s sit down in the other room for a bit, take a load off.”

She looked at me. I could tell she was wondering how far to take feeling at home.

“You heard the man,” I said. “Go put your feet up. Abe and I weren’t going in there anyway.”

Lucy gave me a grateful look and I watched them meander into the living room, as opposite a pair as you can get.

Abe cleared his throat. “Want me to stay?”

I closed my eyes. I had a girl upstairs in my childhood bedroom, a woman who would be taking yet another space, a friend who was there to see Lucy, not me, and a man who occupied a huge part of my heart, but not the part I had hoped.

“I don’t think so, Abe,” I said. “I really need to be alone.”

Alone.

“I understand,” he said. He leaned over to kiss the top of my head. “I’m glad you’re okay.” He walked toward the door.

“Abe,” I said.

He stopped.

“Thanks.”

He opened the door. “Anytime, Stella. I’ll help you any way I can.”

And he was gone.

I sat there, feeling sorry for myself, wondering why my decisions always came around to bite me in the ass. I had hired Lucy, feeling some kind of kinship with her, and now here I was, the epitome of independence, with two semi-permanent roommates. Wouldn’t Howie be laughing now.

On the other hand…Tess was asleep, Abe was gone, and the two lovebirds were probably necking on the sofa. Or, more likely, collapsed out of exhaustion.

Nobody for me to cater to. I liked that.

I gave a long, audible sigh of something as close to contentment as possible under the circumstances, took a nice long shower and went to bed.

But not for long.

Lenny came slamming into my room sometime in the middle of the night, scaring the bejesus out of me.

“Holy crap, Lenny,” I said. “You’re in the wrong room.”

“They got Bart,” he said. “You gotta go.”

He stumbled around the room like a drunk, wringing his hands. I shook my head to clear it.

“Who has Bart? And where am I going?”

“The hospital! And it’s them, I know it is!”

He grabbed me by the armpits and hoisted me out of bed in my T-shirt and underwear. I batted his hands away and went searching for some jeans. Once I had them on, I turned on the light.

“Sit down,” I ordered, pointing at the bed.

Surprisingly, he complied, the bedsprings screeching with protest.

“Now tell me what’s going on,” I said.

He let out what sounded like a sob. “Bart. Some of the guys from the club found him at the Barn. He was lying out back and he…he’s not doing very well.” He looked at me with pain in his eyes. “They
stabbed
him, Stella.”

My heart skipped a beat. “Is he—”

“He’s alive, but barely. The guys called the ambulance and he’s in surgery right now. You’ve gotta go down there.”

I had pulled on some boots while he was talking, so I was as dressed as I was going to be.

“Okay,” I said. “Come on.”

“I can’t.”

I stopped in the doorway and turned on him. “What do you mean, you can’t? Your best friend is at death’s door and you won’t
go?”

His face crumpled. “It was
me
. They were after
me
. The only reason they did Bart was because I wasn’t there.”

The door to Lucy’s room opened, cutting off my reply, and she shuffled out, her face swollen with sleep. “What’s going on?”

“I’m not sure. But stay with Len, will you? I’ve gotta go to the hospital and check on Bart, and Lenny’s not doing so good.”

She nodded, and after one last look to see if Lenny was following, I raced down the stairs and toward the hospital.

***

Walking in the door of Grandview Hospital’s emergency room took all the guts I had. Just five weeks before, I had entered only to find out Howie had died on the operating table. I prayed it wouldn’t be the same this time.

Besides feeling traumatized because of Howie, I had to wonder if Bart’s attackers were watching. Lenny was afraid to come because he thought they were after him, so he must think they would lure him here by getting at Bart.

The woman at the registration desk told me Bart was still in surgery and that someone would be out to let me know when he was finished. I didn’t think that sounded good, the way she put it, but I took it at face value.

When I walked into the waiting room I had to push down a hysterical laugh when I saw Detective Willard camped out on one of the sofas. He was sleeping, snoring softly with his mouth hanging open. A couple of regulars from our HOG club were sitting in a corner playing cards. Thankfully, no creepy, suspicious-looking characters were hanging around. And the skanky couple from the Biker Barn was nowhere to be seen.

“Hey guys,” I said.

My biker friends looked up guiltily, hands shielding their game.

“I don’t care you’re playing cards, you jerks,” I said. “You saved Bart’s life.” I tried to keep my voice even, and I think I succeeded.

“Want to join us?” one asked.

“Nah. But thanks.”

“Actually,” the other one said, looking at his watch. “Now that someone else is here, I gotta get goin’. My shift starts in forty-five minutes.”

For the first time, I glanced at the clock. One-fifteen. No wonder my head felt like it had been caught in a vice.

“That’s fine, guys,” I said. “I’ll take over from here. I’ll let you know when Bart can have visitors. Thanks again.”

“Hey,” one said. “He’s a brother.”

They gave me some kind of thumbs-up sign, but I couldn’t seem to coordinate my hand to do it back. I parked myself on a chair somewhere close to Willard and leaned my head against the wall.

“We’ve got to quit meeting like this,” Willard mumbled.

I opened my eyes and knew from the taste of my mouth that I’d been asleep. Willard still lay on the couch, but he was looking at me now, and he had stopped snoring. I glanced at the clock. Two forty-five.

“Heard anything yet?” I asked.

He shook his head. “This is the same guy that was at Lenny Spruce’s house the other night, isn’t it?”

“Bart Watts,” I said.

“Bart Watts.” He closed his eyes and sighed.

“Doesn’t anybody else work for the police department?” I asked.

“Not in the borough I cover. I mean, there are officers, but I’m the only detective.”

“How come you were at Lenny’s the other night, then? That’s out of your jurisdiction, isn’t it?”

“Wouldn’t you know their guy was on vacation? Disney World with the kids. And since nothing big ever happens in Perkasie, I figured I’d be safe saying yes.”

“Guess you learned.”

“Guess so. But if this is in any way connected, it’s probably a good thing I caught both cases. Good for my job. Not good for my health.”

Double doors at the end of the room swung open and I sprang to my feet. The surgeon saw us—the only two people in the waiting room—and came over, quiet in his little booties. I could tell by the look on his face that the news was different this visit, and the weight of a feed sack slid off my chest.