Three Can Keep a Secret (19 page)

Lucy stared at me. “You really think that’s possible?”

“Teenagers are the obvious people for graffiti,” Willard said. “It’s not something adults usually do.” He scribbled in his notebook. “I’ll check it out.”

Lucy’s hands were back to their kneading. “Do you have to? Can I try?”

Willard put his pen in his pocket. “It’s a criminal mischief charge if they did it.”

“What would that mean for them?”

He shrugged. “Depends. Some kind of restitution.”

“Jail?”

“Not necessarily. Especially if you don’t press charges.”

Lucy looked at me.

“I’m up for our own restitution,” I said.

Willard groaned. “Ms. Crown—”

“Nothing criminal, I assure you.”

Willard studied the tabletop for a long moment. “If that’s the way you want to work it, I can’t do anything about it. But I’ve got your report from the other night, and I’ll keep this blanket.”

Lucy’s expression relaxed a little.

“Great,” I said. “We’ll be in touch.”

He met my eyes gravely, then stood and walked over to the door. I followed.

“I appreciate your work,” I said. “Thanks for coming over.”

He pursed his lips, looking me in the eye again. “I’m serious about being careful. Don’t do anything…well, anything dumb.” He picked up the umbrella he’d left in the entryway and held it over his head as he walked to his car.

I closed the door and turned to Lucy, who still sat at the table, her back stiff.

“So,” I said. “Let’s go after these folks. Your in-laws, the MYFers. You Mennonites may not like confrontation, but it works for me. Let’s put the fear of God into all of them. They deserve it.”

Lucy smiled coldly. “They do. But that’s not the way I handle things.”

“Fine. What do you want to do?”

She hesitated. “You know that family fun fest I’ve been considering?”

I leaned back against the counter, my headache still hammering away. “Yeah. What about it?”

“I’d like to have a trial run. Saturday work for you?”

I glanced at the calendar. “That’s the day after tomorrow. Doesn’t give us long.”

“I can pull it together.”

I shrugged. “Okay. But what exactly is that going to accomplish?”

“I’ll invite them all here. They’ll have a great time.”

I stared at her. “Now you’ve completely lost me.”

She smiled, more frigidly than before. “I’m going to do this the Mennonite way. I’m going to kill them with kindness.”

Chapter Thirty-six

The night passed slowly. As soon as I’d start to drift off, I’d have nightmares about Lenny in the hands of the enemy. They got him. Or were chasing him. Or he was hiding out. It made me furious that I had no way of knowing where he’d gone. No way to help him.

When dawn finally crept up the horizon, I gave up on the sleep idea and got out of bed. A hot shower did its best to wake me, but I couldn’t honestly say it did much. At least I’d start the day out clean.

I waited until I was done milking to call the police. Willard wasn’t in, but the cop who answered the phone said there hadn’t been any calls about Lenny during the night. I thanked him and hung up, both relieved and worried. Calls to Lenny’s house and the Barn were just as unproductive.

“No news about Lenny?” Lucy stood in the office doorway, her eyes blackened from lack of sleep. The past week had kept our nights busy, and I was sure Lucy had been dreaming, like I had.

“Nothing. And I’ve run out of ideas.”

She stared out the window, hugging her arms around herself. “I wish I’d have some for you.”

“Until we get some, you need to work on your plans for tomorrow. How can I help?”

“I made a bunch of calls last night. We should have a good group here tomorrow. So now we need to set up.”

We spent the next hour lugging bales of straw to the back yard. Well, she lugged them to the Bobcat and I used it to dump them in a pile. Lucy arranged them in a circle around what would be a campfire. Even though the days were hot enough to roast marshmallows without a fire, the evenings cooled off enough we could enjoy it. We found kindling and firewood and Lucy placed them within a circle of cement blocks. Finally, she clapped her hands together and brushed bark and dust off her pants.

“Now what?” I asked.

“Now I head to Landis’ Supermarket for party supplies.”

I grimaced.

“Don’t worry,” Lucy said. “I’ll pay for them myself.” She hesitated, looking uncomfortable.

“What?”

“Um, can I use your truck? It’s going to be a few days till my insurance money comes in.”

Once again, I’d forgotten her car was demolished. I would’ve offered her Howie’s truck, except it was still on the disabled list. I dug into my pocket and tossed her my keys. “Grab me some scrapple, will you? And apple butter?”

She raised her eyebrows. “Should I get a funny cake, too, to make the gorge-fest complete?”

I groaned with exaggerated pleasure. It had been too long since I’d had that Pennsylvania Dutch treat—white cake in a pie crust, with a gooey layer of chocolate at the bottom.

“And meanwhile,” Lucy said, “you need to get some rest. You’re looking mighty pale.”

I was feeling mighty pale, so I went in to recharge my Motrin and get some lunch, breaking up the time by making unsuccessful phone calls to Lenny’s house, the Barn, and the police station. I saved room for the funny cake.

The rest of the day passed slowly. Lucy, having reverted to the quiet, private person I’d first hired, worked on her party, and I did what I could to help. We did the milking together, Tess in the corner with Queenie, and finally retired to the house to enjoy a macaroni casserole Belle had brought. We heard nothing from Lenny.

A call to Bart assured me he was still on the mend, but he hadn’t heard from his errant partner, either. The anxiety would do nothing to help Bart heal, so I decided I wouldn’t call him again until I knew something for certain.

Another night of nerve-driven dreams slogged by, and Saturday morning lasted forever. By afternoon I gave myself over to the plans for the evening and worked on auto-pilot, helping Lucy pack a trailer with straw, to be pulled by a tractor at the party. We cleaned the calf hutches, knowing people would want to pet the babies; Tess brushed Queenie to within an inch of the dog’s patience; and Zach rode his bike over and mowed the lawn. Most of the tornado debris was cordoned off at the foundations of the garage and feed barns, the clean-up crew having gotten the majority of the yard cleared off the other day. The farm looked as good as it was going to get.

Still no word from Lenny.

At five-o’clock Lucy fired up the grill and Tess—excited beyond words that her relatives were coming—helped me set the picnic table with condiments and picnic foods. Two huge drink coolers, borrowed from Sellersville Mennonite, sat at the end of the table—one with water, one with lemonade.

Now all we needed were the people.

Lucy waited out the last few minutes in stone silence, cracking her knuckles, her neck, her back—anything that would pop. Tess danced around, eager and happy, oblivious to the tension permeating the air. I sat on a picnic table bench, my elbows resting on the table, trying to look nonchalant. I’m not sure it worked.

Abe was the first to arrive, heralded by Queenie’s barking. Ma sat in the passenger seat of his Camry, and Mallory, Zach’s sister, opened the back door. I looked at them with surprise. I hadn’t bothered to ask Lucy who all she’d invited. I guessed I’d find out soon.

Tess went running for the lane, Queenie at her heels, when an older model Accord drove in. The smiling couple that emerged had to be Lucy’s parents. The woman was an older version of Lucy, and the man really did look like the guy on the Herr’s potato chip bag.

I walked toward them. “Somebody’s sure glad to see you.”

They laughed, Tess giggling in their three-way embrace.

“We wanted to come earlier this week,” Lucy’s mother said, “but Lucy asked us to wait a while, until she felt settled, and we wanted to respect her wishes. I’m Lois Ruth. This is Ron.”

I shook hands with both of them, glad to finally see people from Lucy’s past with nothing but gentleness in their eyes. Lucy, finished welcoming Ma and Abe, ran toward her parents. She joined in the multiple-person hug, and I swallowed the envy that clogged my throat.

I stepped back, irritated at the stinging of my eyes, and watched as another car parked alongside the drive. Detective Willard, casual in jeans and a polo shirt, stepped out, followed by his son. I walked toward them.

“Hey there, Brady,” I said. “Good to see you.”

He waved at me shyly, ducking his head.

“Detective,” I said. “Didn’t know you were on the invitation list. Glad you could make it.”

He smiled. “My wife and daughter planned a shopping trip to the King of Prussia mall. Brady and I were glad for an excuse to get out of it.”

“I bet.”

“Besides, I might get to see some interesting alternative law enforcement.”

I shrugged, hoping things worked out the way we wanted them to.

“By the way,” Willard said, reaching into his car. “Here’s the blanket. Not sure what Lucy had in mind, but she asked me to bring it along.”

I took the garbage bag and stashed it under one of the picnic tables, already thinking of ways to use it.

Queenie was going nuts, now, as the in-laws’ powder blue Buick, Uncle Scott’s truck, and a van—from Yoder Mennonite Church, according to the logo on the driver’s door—drove in. I smiled when I saw Noah’s face peering at me from behind the windshield. I crossed my arms and watched as the teenagers poured out the side door. Noah’s MYFers, I assumed. Any number of them fit my recollection of the vandals from the other night. I wondered which ones would actually be the guilty parties. If, of course, I was right about that.

I also couldn’t help but notice that while Yoder folks were self-proclaimed conservatives, their kids didn’t hesitate to wear the latest fashions. The girls exposed way more of their abdomens than most parents would like, and I was afraid the boys would soon lose the long shorts that threatened to slide down their backsides. The girls hadn’t skimped on makeup, either, from what I could see. Yikes.

Uncle Scott’s kids jumped down from the back doors of the Silverado, and his wife—a pretty woman wearing a yellow sundress—held onto his hand to make the big step to the ground. Tess ran shrieking to her cousins, Queenie following and wagging her tail bravely amid the onslaught of pats and good-natured prodding. Mallory, baby-sitter extraordinaire, went directly to the parents, offering her services for the party. Looked to me like Scott and the missus were glad to accept any help they could get.

Elsie and Thomas Lapp, along with Shelby, occupied the Buick. I was surprised Shelby hadn’t finagled her way into the van with Noah. Maybe she was still mad at him for lying about visiting Lucy.

Lucy and her parents walked over to welcome the Lapps, who stood beside their car, seemingly unsure what to make of it all. I blinked as Lucy reached out and hugged Elsie, a move I wouldn’t have thought possible a few days ago. Lucy’s dad and Thomas shook hands, and when Lucy released Elsie, her mom took Elsie’s arm and led her toward some lawn chairs, situated in the shade.

Lucy caught my eye from across the yard and I lifted a shoulder. She swallowed and straightened her shoulders, walking toward the center of the crowd.

“Welcome to all of you,” Lucy said. “I’m so glad you could make it at such short notice. My boss, Stella, over there—”

I waved.

“—has given me the job of putting on a fun fest to raise a few extra dollars this fall. I thought what better way to try things out than on people who I know would enjoy it, and people who would be interested in where Tess and I are living these days. So relax, eat, play…we’re at your service. Supper will be served shortly, and until then feel free to pet the calves and take a look around. After supper we’ll have time for hayrides and good ol’ roasted marshmallows.”

As Lucy talked I watched the people. I didn’t bother with those I knew. But the MYFers were interesting. A few of the boys couldn’t help but look over at the place where the garage had stood just a few days ago. I wondered how disappointed they were that their work had been obliterated in such a drastic way.

A half-hour later I was putting a milker on a cow—milking waits for no woman—when I heard it. The faintest of rumbling. I shoved on the milker and trotted outside.

There he came, riding his Harley right into the fray. I walked toward him and waited till he’d killed the engine.

“What are you doing here?” I asked.

“Lucy left a message. She needed me, so I came.”

So simple. “Well, I don’t know whether to hug you or slug you for keeping me in the dark the last few days.”

He closed his eyes, then looked at me tiredly. “How ’bout neither? Don’t want to embarrass either of us.”

I studied the bags under his eyes. “I’ll let it go for now. But I’m glad you’re all right.”

I turned and went back into the barn, afraid my emotions would boil over one way or another. The cows wouldn’t notice, but the folks in my yard just might.

Zach soon joined me.

“How’s it going out there?” I asked.

He shrugged. “Nobody’s quite sure what to make of Lenny, but he’s handling it okay. You want to get something to eat? I think people will be ready for a hayride before too long.”

I stood up and stretched my back. “That’d be great. Thanks.”

I stepped out of the barn only to see Noah staring at the picnic table, where Lenny was filling his plate. Probably for the third time. I walked over to the food and grabbed some plasticware.

“Meet Lucy’s old flame yet?”

He looked up at me and I tipped my head toward Noah. Lenny turned toward Noah, who blinked before putting his hands in his pockets and walking away.

“She doesn’t still like him?” Lenny asked.

“Why would she? With you she gets much more to love.”

Lenny laughed and took his plate to join Lucy, who sat on a straw bale, talking with her mother. Lois’ face showed nothing but warmth when Lenny sat down. Elsie, seated across the circle, didn’t reveal much of anything, but I couldn’t help but wonder if she was thinking about her son. Lucy’s husband had been quite different from the man sitting next to her now.

I was piling macaroni salad onto my plate when I stopped, spoon in the air. Anita Powell was walking up the lane, having left her car down toward the road. She smiled at me and crossed to the table.

“She’s really doing it, isn’t she?” I said. “You, the detective….”

She popped a baby carrot in her mouth and spoke around it. “And I thought, a free meal, why not? And help a woman who can use it?” She looked across the yard at the cluster of Lapps, deep in conversation, uncertainty painted on their faces. “Could that possibly be Lucy’s in-laws?”

I grinned. “Want me to introduce you?”

“It would be a pleasure.”

We walked casually over to Brad’s family, Anita cool and professional. The Lapps glanced at me as I broke into their circle.

“You folks having a good time?” I asked.

They looked at each other, eyes wary.

“Sure,” Scott said. “You have a nice place. Oh, this is my wife, Deena.”

“Hi, Deena. Nice to meet you.” I gestured toward Anita. “I thought you all might like to meet one of Lucy’s new friends.”

Anita stepped forward and held out her hand. “Hi, I’m Anita. Anita Powell.”

Thomas, caught at the very moment his and Anita’s hands met, turned beet red. Elsie’s face froze.

“How did you meet Lucy?” Deena asked. She obviously had no clue what was going on.

“Well,” Anita said, “I work for the county’s Children and Youth Services. I came out to check on Lucy and Tess’ new home. We hit it off right away. I’ve been back a couple of times to see them.”

I tried not to smile at this stretching of the truth.

The Lapps—now all performing a deer in the headlights routine—stared at Anita. Well, all but Deena, who was looking at Scott, her nose wrinkled in confusion.

“So nice to meet you all,” Anita said. She turned to look toward the tractor, where Lucy was talking with Willard and herding people onto the trailer. “Is that Detective Willard over there talking with Lucy? I need to speak with him.” She left, walking with a purpose.

“Detective—” Thomas said. He stopped as Willard threw back his head and laughed at something Lucy was saying.

“Sure,” I said. “He’s a good friend of the family. In fact, he’s been helping Lucy out by looking into some things for her, trying to finally bring closure to her husband’s death. Would you like me to introduce you?”