Abandon the Dark Page 11

  “You’re right, I’m sure,” she said firmly. “If Laura did it, it was an accident. She couldn’t possibly be a threat to anyone now.”

  Rachel’s clear blue eyes seemed troubled. “I wish Jake hadn’t thought of it, even so.”

  “Me, too.” Lainey patted her hand. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up. I didn’t intend to worry you.”

  Rachel clasped her hand for a second. “What are friends for? We have a twenty-year-old friendship, remember?”

  “I remember.” Funny. She didn’t have all that many friends in her life. Moving around as much as she did tended to discourage building relationships. Oh, there were people she stayed in touch with via Facebook and Christmas notes, but that wasn’t like having a female friend to confide in, one she’d known long enough to trust. It was nice, having a childhood friend.

  Lainey glanced at the clock and then pushed her chair back. “I should go home. I’m sure you’ll be getting into Mandy’s bedtime routine soon.”

  Rachel glanced toward the window. “True. Now that it’s getting dark earlier, it’s a lot easier to get her settled. Do you want a flashlight?”

  “I have a penlight on my keys,” Lainey said. “That should do me.” She wasn’t afraid to be out in the dark. That would be silly. “Thanks again so much for the invitation. The chicken potpie was delicious.”

  “I’ll be glad to share my mother’s recipe,” Rachel said, seeming to glance toward the farm that lay across the covered bridge. “Oh, wait. Here.” She thrust a bag into Lainey’s hands. “Take this.”

  “What is it?” She grasped the handles of the shopping bag automatically.

  “The scrapbook we kept that summer. I knew you’d want to see it.” Rachel flipped on the porch light and opened the door.

  If Rachel knew that, she knew more than Lainey did. She wasn’t at all certain that she wanted to delve any deeper into the events of that childhood summer. But she could hardly refuse to take the scrapbook. She didn’t have to look at the blasted thing, after all. She could just keep it for a few days and then return it. “Good night,” Rachel said.

  “Thanks.” Lainey fished for her penlight.

  The air was chilly, and she pulled her sweater around her more closely. Once she stepped off the back porch, the comforting yellow glow of the porch light slipped away behind her. Lainey switched on the penlight, realizing its narrow beam only illuminated the way a few yards ahead of her feet.

  Well, she was just going next door, after all. She’d be there in two minutes.

  But she couldn’t help noticing how much darker it was here than it ever got in the city. The bulk of the ridge on the other side of the creek was an added layer of blackness against a gray sky, and the band of trees seemed to have crept closer than they ever were in daylight.

  Stupid, scaring herself that way. Lainey hurried her steps across the grass. This end of Deer Run petered out into the country almost immediately, and it was so quiet she could hear the splashing of the water over the dam. Shivering a little, she ran the last few feet to the porch.

  Shoving the key in the lock, she stumbled inside. Why on earth hadn’t she thought to leave a light on? She fumbled for the overhead gas lamp, the penlight swinging randomly as she moved, until it caught and reflected two green eyes glowing in the dark.

  Lainey stifled a cry as she touched the control on the light. Just the cat. It was only the cat.

  When she finally managed to get the lamp on, he came to weave his way around her legs, purring insistently.

  “Yes, I’m glad to see you, too.” She stooped to stroke the glossy back. “But how are you getting in here?” She had checked the entire house, including the cellar, and she hadn’t come up with a single space big enough to let a cat squeeze through.

  He looked up at her and let out a single meow, as if that should be an answer.

  “Your name should be Houdini,” she said crossly, but she had to admit she was glad to have company in the house. “Let me get some light on in the front room, and then I’ll find some supper for you.”

  Exchanging the penlight for one of the large flashlights Aunt Rebecca kept handy in a kitchen drawer, Lainey went through the dining room into the living room, where she turned on another lamp. There, that was better. She didn’t like to be fumbling around in a dark house, and—

  She stopped, staring. Placed diagonally across the front door was the broom.

  Her heart gave a lurch. She had put the broom in the back closet, she knew she had. How did it get to the front door?

  Seizing the shreds of her common sense, she told herself firmly that it couldn’t be the same broom. She grabbed it, double-checking that the front door was locked, and marched back through the house to the closet.

  Sure enough, the broom she’d found on the back porch was there. She wasn’t going crazy. She picked it up, comparing the two. Both were straw brooms, the sort you could buy at a discount store. Nothing particularly alarming about either of them.

  Lainey stuffed both brooms in the closet and closed the door. Unfortunately, that didn’t help her state of mind. She had come up with a perfectly logical explanation for the broom at the back door. But she couldn’t think of any, logical or not, for the appearance of the second broom.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  JAKE PULLED INTO the hospital parking lot the afternoon after his excursion with Lainey. He really needed to check on Rebecca for himself. The possibility of having to move her to another facility troubled him. Whatever decision Lainey made, somebody wouldn’t like it.

  For that matter, he didn’t relish getting into the middle of a family fight himself. Still, his responsibility was to Rebecca, no matter who else was involved.

  And Lainey? His mind queried.

  When he reached Rebecca’s room, he opened the door quietly, not sure what to expect. No crowd today—just Lainey, sitting in the green plastic chair next to Rebecca’s bed, a book open on her lap. She was reading aloud to Rebecca.

  He stood where he was, reluctant to disturb her. Lainey’s expression was absorbed, as if she’d entered into the story world as she read. He had to smile as he recognized the book. It was one of the Little House series, especially loved by the Amish for its themes of hardships overcome by the love of family and faith.

  What meaning did it hold for someone like Lainey? As far as he could tell, she’d spent her life in one city after another. Was she longing for something she’d never known?

  He glanced at Rebecca, his gaze sharpening. She’d moved—the tiniest turning of her head toward the sound of Lainey’s voice.

  He took a step toward them, and Lainey looked up, her voice stopping.

  “Go on,” he said softly. “She’s responding to you.”

  Lainey turned to her great-aunt. She must have seen what he had, because the guarded look she’d worn for him softened into an expression of such love that it nearly rocked him back on his heels.

  Careful, he told himself. His experience with Julie had certainly shown him the danger of getting involved with someone who wanted different things from life than he did. And that certainly described Lainey, didn’t it?

  He came to a halt, keeping the width of the hospital bed between them. Rebecca seemed to sigh a little, her body relaxing under the thin blanket. Her hand moved, groping toward Lainey.

  Tears spilled onto Lainey’s cheeks, and she let the book fall into her lap. She clasped Rebecca’s hand.

  “I’m here, Aunt Rebecca. I’m here.” Lainey looked up at him, cheeks flushing. “She’s responding, isn’t she? That’s a good sign.”

  “Yes.” Jake couldn’t help it. He reached across the bed to put his hand over theirs. “It is a good sign.”

  Something pushed against the door with a thump, and Jake wasn’t able to straighten before Zeb was in the room, followed by one of his grandkids—Ella, he thought it was. Zeb was eyeing him with disapproval, to say the least.

  “You’ve come at the right time,” Lainey said, a lilt
in her voice. “Aunt Rebecca is beginning to respond.”

  “She is?” The girl hurried across to join Lainey at Rebecca’s bedside. “Ach, Lainey, I am so glad.” She caught Rebecca’s hand in hers. “You are getting better, ain’t so?”

  Rebecca’s eyes fluttered a little, her hand moving.

  “You see?” Lainey grinned at the girl. “She’s starting to come out of it.”

  Ella shed her bonnet and then bent to give Lainey a hug that seemed to surprise her. “This is a gut day.”

  Jake glanced at Zeb, and the older man’s expression wiped the smile from his face. Zeb didn’t seem inclined to join the celebration.

  “Rebecca’s doing better,” he prompted.

  Zeb gave a curt nod, his expression softening slightly as he looked at his sister-in-law. “Gut.” Then his head swiveled back toward Jake. “I went to your office. They told me you were here.”

  So this was a business call, not a visit to the sick. “I’m sorry I missed you,” he said, moving a few steps away from the bed. “What can I do for you?”

  Zeb followed him, frowning. “You can tell me what you and that woman were doing on my property yesterday.”

  He should have known someone would have spotted the car, he supposed. Sometimes he thought you couldn’t sneeze without half the township offering you a tissue.

  He decided not to respond by pointing out that it wasn’t really Zeb’s land. No point in starting a useless quarrel.

  “I was showing your great-niece around, that’s all. Sorry we didn’t have time to stop and visit,” he added, suspecting they wouldn’t have been particularly welcome.

  Zeb’s face tightened. “She is no relative of mine. Or my brother’s.”

  “Maybe not, but she’s in charge of Rebecca’s property for the moment, and I thought she should see what it involved.”

  “The farm is mine.” Zeb grated out the words. “I am the one who has worked it all these years. I am the one who has made it prosperous. Rebecca intended to sign it over to me.”

  Jake’s eyebrows lifted. “I didn’t know she’d made that decision yet.”

  “She was going to do it, because it was right.” Zeb looked at Lainey again, with what seemed speculation in his face. “The Englisch woman—she would be able to do it?”

  Jake wasn’t pleased with the direction of Zeb’s thoughts. “She would have the authority, but I certainly wouldn’t advise her to do any such thing.”

  “You are not part of the family.”

  “And you just pointed out that Lainey isn’t either, according to you.” Jake took a firm hold on his temper. “In any event, now that Rebecca is beginning to respond, it doesn’t matter. If all goes well, she’ll be able to make decisions for herself before long. If, as you say, Rebecca had decided to sign the farm over to you, she’ll be able to take care of that herself.”

  Zeb just stared at him. Then he turned and walked over to the bed.

  Jake watched him, his mind busy. What was going on with Zeb? He’d always seemed fond of Rebecca in a nondemonstrative way, of course. Ready to put any members of his large family at her disposal when there was work to be done. So what was he thinking now?

  Zeb and Ella exchanged several comments in Pennsylvania Dutch, much too quickly for Jake’s slight understanding. Then Ella turned to Lainey.

  “My grandfather has to leave. He says I can stay longer if you can take me home.”

  “I’d be glad to,” Lainey said. “It will do Aunt Rebecca good to have you here.”

  “I will leave you, then.” Zeb gave her a curt nod. He stood for a moment, looking down at Rebecca, and then walked out.

  The atmosphere in the room improved with Zeb’s absence, it seemed. Jake caught Lainey’s eye.

  “Can I have a moment? Then I need to get back to the office.”

  She nodded, skirting the bed to join him. “What is it?”

  He drew her over to the window. “Have you made a decision about the property yet? Or do you want to wait, now that your aunt is showing signs of improving?”

  Lainey glanced back toward Rebecca and shook her head. “I wish I knew for sure if it’s the right decision, but I think we’d better move ahead with putting the mill property on the market. The doctor said that if Aunt Rebecca showed signs of improving, they’d want to move her to the rehab facility. That will mean settling some bills with the hospital.”

  He nodded. “We won’t make a sale immediately, of course, but we can use the money in her account for the hospital and settle the taxes when the property closes.” He hesitated. “I think you’re doing the right thing. It may still be a long haul before Rebecca’s able to make these kinds of decisions.”

  “She’s getting better. That’s what counts. Besides, if I put the mill property on the market that may assure Zeb and the others that their farms are safe.”

  “I’m not sure that would be my first consideration,” he said, his tone dry.

  Lainey’s smile lit her face. “He is difficult, isn’t he? But I’m sure Aunt Rebecca would want to see that family is taken care of. Anyway, soon she’ll be able to tell me what she wants.”

  She looked at him for agreement, so he nodded and smiled. Unfortunately, he wasn’t quite as optimistic as Lainey was. Some people never really recovered their full functioning after a stroke. And as for reassuring Zeb...well, he suspected that Zeb wouldn’t be totally reassured until he held the deed to the farm in his hands.

  * * *

  IT SEEMED TO be her day, Lainey decided, to run into members of Zeb’s family. She’d just returned to the house from dropping Ella at the farm next to her grandfather’s when she glanced across the street to see Ella’s brother, Thomas, working in the flower beds at the Willows. Amish boys that age tended to look alike at first glance, but she couldn’t miss Thomas’s narrow face and thin, wiry body. He was weeding the border of purple and yellow mums along the inn’s front porch.

  Lainey hesitated, her hand still on the car door. Should she go across and speak to him or not? But she’d liked Ella, with her naïve outlook on life and her obvious affection for Aunt Rebecca, and it seemed standoffish to go inside and ignore him.

  Besides, maybe getting to know Zeb’s family would help to disarm the enmity that had sprung up between them. For Aunt Rebecca’s sake, she should try.

  Lainey went quickly across the road and up the walk. The boy was on his knees, intent on the weeds he was tossing into a wheelbarrow.

  “Thomas.” She touched his shoulder.

  The boy spun around, losing his balance and ending up sitting in the grass. He scuttled crabwise away from her, his blue eyes wide, almost frightened.

  What on earth was wrong with the boy?

  “I’m sorry.” She smiled. “It’s just me. Lainey. I saw you were working over here and stopped to say hi.”

  Thomas stared at her, not responding. Didn’t he understand her?

  “You know who I am, don’t you?” She kept her voice gentle.

  He nodded. Swallowed. “Ja.”

  They didn’t seem to be making much headway. “I didn’t know you worked for Mrs. Walker.”

  Thomas nodded again. He got slowly to his feet, looking everywhere but at her. “I work here.” He grasped the handles of the wheelbarrow. “I must go.” With that, he trundled the barrow around the house and out of sight.

  That hadn’t gone as planned. Lainey stood, staring at the spot where he’d vanished. Was there something wrong with Thomas that she hadn’t been aware of?

  The sound of a step made her look up. Jeannette Walker came out of the house, letting the screen door close behind her. It was clear from her expression that she’d overheard.

  “I’m afraid I interrupted Thomas’s weeding,” she said. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s not a problem.” Jeannette actually seemed friendly, in contrast to their first two encounters. “I’m afraid Thomas is rather shy. I’ve found it works much better if I just leave him alone to get on with his work. Anything els
e just seems to upset him.”

  “I didn’t realize. I suppose I shouldn’t have put him on the spot that way.”

  Jeannette came to stand by the porch railing, resting one hand on it lightly. She might have been posing for a photo of the Willows and its proprietor. As always, it seemed, her hair was almost aggressively neat, her skirt and blouse tailored and vaguely old-fashioned.

  “You couldn’t have known,” she said. “All my negotiations are done with Thomas’s father or older brother. They make sure he gets here on time and pick him up when he finishes.” She sighed. “It’s difficult, watching out for someone who’s not quite responsible. I should know.”

  That seemed to invite a question, surprising her. She wouldn’t have expected Jeannette to discuss Laura.

  “You mean Laura Hammond, I suppose? I’ve gathered that she’s been ill.”

  Jeannette nodded, the firm waves of her hair never moving. “Poor thing. She’s had troubles for years, and now that her husband is gone, she only has me.”

  Lainey tried to find something tactful to say that wouldn’t reveal the fact that they’d been talking about Laura. Jake’s face slid into her mind, his expression grave and troubled. I think the killer might have been Laura herself.

  “It must be difficult for you,” she said. “Feeling responsible.”

  Jeannette stiffened, probably meaning she’d said exactly the wrong thing. But as quickly as it had come, the impression vanished.

  Jeannette shrugged. “I do what I can,” she said. “I can’t complain. And you certainly have burdens enough of your own with your aunt in such a condition.” She paused, her gaze on Lainey’s face. “I suppose you’re eager to get everything settled here and get back to your job and your friends in St. Louis.”

  Since she currently had neither job nor friends to speak of, that was hardly an issue. The few women she’d sometimes gone to lunch with had worked for the firm, and once she’d been let go, they’d hardly wanted to ally themselves with her and risk making an enemy of the boss. “I’m not really in a hurry. I’ll be here as long as Aunt Rebecca needs me.”