Three Can Keep a Secret (16 page)

“Did you tell anybody?”

“Sure. I called Lenny at the Biker Barn right away. They were here early, soon after he’d left for work. I saw them because I was cleaning up the boys’ breakfast stuff.”

“Did you tell the cops about this?”

“I told one of the officers last night, when they were here at Lenny’s. He didn’t seem to think much of it, though.”

Detective Willard would be hearing it again from me, in case it had slipped by him.

“Well, thanks for telling me. I’ll make sure the cops hear about it again.”

She shrugged. “Lenny told me not to bother the cops. That he knew who the bikers were and he’d take care of it.”

I didn’t like the sound of that.

She studied my face and saw I wasn’t happy. “Lenny doesn’t deserve this,” she said. “He never hurt anybody.”

She turned to leave when I walked around to the driver’s door of my truck.

“Hey, lady,” I said.

She stopped.

“Next time you see someone going into Lenny’s house you might want to call the police. I’m not sure how much good a rolling pin would do.”

She looked down at it like she’d forgotten it was there, and gave a little smile. “You never know. This one has seen a lot of action. I make a mean pie crust.”

I slammed the truck door, laughing in spite of the situation. Perhaps I’d finally found Ma Granger’s match.

Chapter Thirty-two

It was quarter to five by the time I made it home, so I got a nice solid forty-five minutes of sleep before heading out to the barn. I would’ve just stayed awake like the morning before, except I fell asleep behind the wheel of my truck as soon as I’d parked it in the driveway. It was amazing I could even sleep, seeing how my yard looked like a bomb had exploded on it. My first sight upon waking was a board that had lodged itself in the side of Howie’s truck.

Once I pulled my gaze from the wreckage and got my neck un-cricked I took time to run into the house and change my clothes, unfortunately catching a glimpse of my pasty skin and exhaustion-blackened eyes in my mirror. No wonder the surgeon had been afraid of me—I looked like I’d spent the last week hiding in a closet.

Lucy met me in the barn an hour later, where I was filling feed troughs. The cows were clipped in, crunching on hay.

“Gosh,” Lucy said. “You look terrible.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“No offense.”

I glanced at her, trying to judge if she looked any better than I did. She probably did, but that could’ve just been genetics.

“I’m betting you didn’t get a whole lot of sleep, either,” I said.

She shrugged. “I got a few hours. I’m not feeling too bad, if you don’t count my head drumming a constant beat.”

“Bed sleep okay while you were in it?”

“Sure. And I only woke up twice wondering where on earth I was.”

She cracked a grin, which broke my reserve. I flicked grain off my jeans while I tried to keep myself from blubbering.

“Tess going to school today?” I asked. My voice sounded normal.

“I think so. She had some nightmares about the tornado early last night, but we talked about them and she seemed to sleep solid the last several hours.” She glanced at the house. “I think it will help to keep her routine the same, especially since it’s so new. Thanks to Mallory, she has some clothes to wear, and I’m hoping she’ll share during show and tell.”

“Shouldn’t you be in there helping her get ready?”

“I set the alarm clock in her room, and I’ll pop back in to make sure she’s on her way.”

Lenny’s bike erupted in the still morning, and Lucy and I looked out the window.

“Where’s he going?” I asked. To see Willard, I hoped.

“Said he wanted to visit Bart, and make sure everything’s okay at the Barn.”

“But what about the people that are after him? What if they’re waiting for him?”

Lucy paled. “You think they’ll be there? At the hospital? Or the Barn?”

I rubbed my temples, sighing. “I’ll run after him.”

A cow sneezed on my feet, her nose dusty with grain, and I did a quick side-step. I tripped over my boots and grabbed onto a water pipe.

“Just as I thought,” Lucy said. “You’re in no condition to be protecting Lenny. Isn’t there someone else who could do it?”

I closed my eyes and tried to think. “I’ll call somebody from the club. See if they can help.”

Lucy’s eyes were anxious. “If you can’t find anyone, let me know.”

I nodded.

“Now make the call and go to bed before you hurt yourself,” Lucy said. “I’ll take care of this.”

“All right,” I said. “Thanks.”

In the house, I found the number for Harry, our club president. When I gave him the lowdown, he told me he’d get right on it. If he couldn’t find someone in the next few minutes he’d go himself. Relieved to find backup so easily, I stumbled upstairs, where I tore off my boots and jeans and fell into bed.

I woke to a huge crash outside my bedroom window.

“What the—”

“Sorry!” I heard.

I stuck my face against the screen of the open window to try to get a view into the yard. My driveway was filled with trucks, a Harley-Davidson Fat Boy, and a full-sized Dumpster, while my yard teemed with big, sweaty Granger brothers.

“Huh,” I said. I couldn’t believe I’d slept through all the noise.

I pulled my jeans back on, glanced at the clock, which said it was now late morning, and gulped a Motrin before walking carefully down the stairs, feeling ten times better than I had on my way up several hours before.

“Well, well, if it ain’t the princess,” Jethro Granger said. “Looks like you could use a few more hours of beauty sleep.”

I glared at him. “How come your son’s so much nicer than you? Zach at least treats me with some respect.”

Jethro laughed. “He knows you could beat him up. I figure I’m pretty safe.”

“Just because your gut would smother me.”

“Okay, kids, break it up.”

An even huger arm than Jethro’s draped across my shoulders and I looked up into the face of Jermaine, Ma’s adopted son and the owner of the bike that sat in the shade of one of my surviving trees. His beautiful skin was the color of a perfect mug of hot chocolate, and the sun reflected brightly off of his shaved head.

“What are you guys doing here?” I asked. “Welding business slow today?”

“We’re the clean-up crew,” Jermaine said. “You don’t think we’d be letting you sit by yourself with all this crap?”

I looked around, startled again by the destruction.

“Good lord,” I said. “You’d think Somebody could give me a little slack one of these days.”

“Not gonna happen you keep taking His name in vain,” Jethro said.

“Uh oh. You becoming Ma?” We all knew better than to blaspheme in Ma’s presence, for fear of the dreaded “hot sauce on the tongue” routine. Even at our age.

“Nope, I just can’t have a sister-in-law with such a potty mouth.”

I stared at him.

“Whoops,” he said.

“I don’t know what Abe’s been telling you—”

“Oh, let it go,” Jermaine said. “Abe’s been saying nothing. Jethro here’s just got a wild imagination. And a big mouth.”

“I call what I see,” Jethro said.

“And what you’re going to see soon is the sole of my boot,” I said.

Jethro looked at Jermaine. “Try to do a little charity work and what do I get?”

Jermaine put up his hands and stepped back. “Don’t put me in the middle of you two psychos. I’m just here to help.”

Jethro winked at me. “I’m just joshin’ ya. You know that.”

“Uh-huh. Anyway, I appreciate the help. You guys happen to know where Lucy is?”

Jethro hooked his thumb over his shoulder. “Took my truck down to that new Home Depot there on Bethlehem Pike. Need a few things to do some patching up, so she went to get ’em. Told her to put ’em on your tab. Hope that’s okay.”

My tab. Not something I liked thinking about. “Sure, that’s fine.”

“What I want to know,” Jermaine said, “is what that piece of trash bike is doing in your yard.”

We all looked at the Beast where it sat alongside the drive, bringing down my land value.

“Present from Lenny,” I said. “Till my bike’s back on the road.”

“Too bad it wasn’t in the garage when it went,” Jermaine said.

Talking about the bike made me wonder where Lenny was, and who was with him, but my thoughts were interrupted by the milk truck pulling into the lane. Doug, the driver, jumped out and looked at the carnage, his mouth open.

“Holy crow,” he said, walking over to me. His mouth dropped a little further as he sized up Jethro and Jermaine. “What happened?”

“Tornado.”

“Nobody was hurt?”

“Thank the Lord, no.”

“Well, that’s good, anyway.” He looked uncertainly at me. “Anything I can do?”

“Don’t think so.” I jerked my chin at the Granger boys. “I’ve got some good trash haulers at the moment.”

Jermaine and Jethro grinned and introduced themselves. Doug closed his mouth long enough to smile back and shake their hands. He took another look at the destruction and slowly shook his head.

“I’m glad everybody’s okay.” He glanced toward his truck. “Should I get started?”

“Be my guest. Luckily nothing here should interfere with your job.”

He tipped his hat and wandered, still awestruck, to his tanker.

I turned back to the guys. “Any luck with Howie’s truck?”

Jethro winced but put on a brave face and led me toward the battered Ford, with me stopping to say hello and thanks to the other Grangers and Sellersville Mennonite members who had found their way to the farm. The Grangers were easy to spot: Jordan patching up a hole in my house, Josh pushing trash around with the Bobcat, Jacob busy hauling pieces of charred lumber to the Dumpster, and Belle doing her best to get glass shards out of the driveway. Abe was nowhere to be seen.

Peter Reinford, along with a good handful of volunteers from Sellersville Mennonite, traipsed back and forth from the yard to a wood chipper, hauling downed branches. Willie, Zach’s MYF sponsor, leaned on the machine, wiping sweat from his forehead.

“Thanks for coming out, everybody,” I said.

Peter straightened and flexed his shoulders. “Can’t say I’m used to this kind of work, but it feels good. The usual Mennonite Disaster Service folks from church are already down in Florida with the hurricanes, so you have to take us leftovers.”

“Hey, now,” one of the other men said with a laugh. “We’re doing the best our old bones can manage.”

“And I appreciate it,” I said. “You don’t know how much.”

“We’re glad to be here,” Peter said. “Just leave the cleaning up to us.”

He turned back to his task of feeding downed branches to the chipper.

I gestured to Willie, and he stepped away from the machine, pulling ear-protectors off his head.

“I hear Zach got to regale you with his tornado story last night,” I said.

He grinned. “Boy, did he ever. He’s a good storyteller.”

“I’m sure he didn’t leave out a detail. I’m also sure telling about it was the best thing for him.”

Willie grew serious. “I was afraid he wouldn’t be able to sleep, otherwise. I went through a tornado as a kid, and every time there was even a little storm after that, I’d lie in my bed sweating and shaking.”

“It was pretty terrifying.”

He smiled gently and his eyes radiated kindness, reminding me of Dr. Peterson.

“Thanks for looking out for him,” I said.

“I look out for all my kids.”

He slipped his ear protectors back on, and I continued after Jethro and Jermaine.

Howie’s truck sat looking like a broken old man on a park bench. One of its side windows was shattered, and it leaned to the right on a flat tire, reminding me of Lenny’s friend Mal Whitney. The side had several deep dents, caused by flying lumber, I supposed, and the paint had been scratched to the metal at some points. Like everything else in the yard, it sported a splotchy coat of debris.

I sighed. First my bike, now Howie’s truck. Completely trashed.

“Don’t despair, girlie,” Jethro said. “We can fix ’er up good.”

I looked at the truck, wondering if nostalgia alone was enough to force a vehicle out of almost certain retirement.

“Is it worth it?” I asked.

Both brothers looked shocked.

“You’re not serious,” Jethro said. “Howie’s truck?”

I shrugged and looked away, stuffing my hands into my back pockets. I could feel the guys’ eyes on me.

The quiet was broken when a trio of vehicles pulled into the lane, Ma Granger in the lead at the wheel of her old Mercury. She and several ladies from church piled out of the cars, and I had to smile.

“Kitchen committee?” I said to Jethro.

“You got it, babe.”

I met Ma on the driveway and she put her arms around me. “Thank the Lord you’re safe,” she said. “You can replace the garage and barn. Even the trees. You we couldn’t do without.”

I hugged her back. “Thanks, Ma. I’m glad to be here, too.”

“Okay, ladies!” Ma stepped back and gestured to her crew. “Let’s set up.” To me, she said, “You care where we put things?”

“You can have the run of the place. Need tables?”

“Abe’s coming with those. I sent him over to the church to bring back a few from the fellowship hall. He should be here any time.”

So that’s why he was absent.

“I sure appreciate it, Ma.”

She clucked her tongue. “We can’t have people starving, can we? They’re working hard. Now, Jethro and Jermaine, stop standing there with those smirks on your faces. Get back to work.”

“Yes, ma’am,” both men said, and immediately did their mother’s bidding.

“And you,” Ma said to me. “I don’t want to see you working out here. Abe told me how you’ve been killing yourself. Now that you have that nice girl Lucy working for you, you need to take it easy.”

“Yes, Ma.”

“I mean it. Don’t you try to sneak it past me.”

“Yes, Ma.”

“Now come here a second.”

I followed her to her car, where she pulled out two garbage bags.

“I don’t know what kind of bed covers you have for those two, but here are a couple quilts. Before you know it, these evenings are going to get chilly, and without heat in your upstairs—”

I held out my arms and took the bags. “Thanks, Ma. You’re the best. Where are these from?”

She pulled back the top of one of the bags. “This was made by my grandmother Myers. And this,” she pulled back the next one, “was given to Pa and me on our wedding day.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but she cut me off.

“We got two, and besides, Pa’s not around to lie under it with me anymore, is he? So you give it to that girl of yours.”

“Yes, Ma. Thanks.”

“Now go on. I have things to do.”

I carried the quilts into the house and laid them on the sofa before sinking down beside them. I wasn’t quite sure what to do with myself. I hated to leave the volunteers cleaning up the place, but I wasn’t in any condition to be heaving heavy objects into the Dumpster. I certainly would only get underfoot of the food preparers, and wasn’t anywhere near wanting their wrath—or their spatulas—to descend upon me.

I decided I might as well make myself useful and work on Lenny’s problem, while I could. I hadn’t heard back from Harry, so I assumed Lenny was in the good hands of someone from the club. I pushed myself off the couch and limped out to the truck, where I grabbed Lenny’s pillowcase. I’d just shut the truck door when yet another car drove in the lane and Queenie went crazy.

The two people who got out of the familiar dark blue Buick stood speechless, their eyes wide. They apparently weren’t expecting a natural disaster. I walked toward them, my blood boiling and my hand on Queenie’s collar. The man took a step back as I neared, his eyes boring into me with a silent request.