Buried Sins Read online

  “What?” He liked that she was talking to him so easily, as if they were friends.

  She shrugged. “Much as I love the Southwestern art, there’s just something about Pennsylvania folk art that speaks to me. It feels so familiar.”

  “It’s part of your childhood, even if you got away from it for a while.” He wrapped his hand around the mug she shoved toward him. “Sometimes I think I should be trying harder to keep Ruthie’s Afghan culture alive for her, but I’m not sure how to do it. And her parents were Christian, so they were already isolated from their culture to some extent.”

  “I didn’t realize.” She leaned on the counter opposite him, so that they were close but with a barrier between them. “How old was she when you brought her back here?”

  “Four. She still has some memories, mostly of her parents. I hope she doesn’t remember the fighting.”

  “Were her parents killed?” Her voice was very gentle.

  He nodded. It wasn’t easy, even after all this time, to think about that. “They were both doctors, doing good work in an isolated area of Afghanistan, but there was a lot of prejudice against them because of their faith. When our team was sent there, we got to know them pretty well.”

  “How did they—” She stopped. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t bring up something so painful.”

  His fingers tightened on the mug. “It’s okay. The good Lord knows my memory of that is never very far away. What happened to them was my fault.”

  “Zach—” Her voice was troubled.

  He shook his head. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to sound melodramatic, but that’s how I see it. I left my post because a car overturned in front of me and I ran to help. The terrorists were waiting for that—they got into the village and attacked the clinic. David and Miriam were both killed. Thank goodness Ruthie survived.”

  Her hand closed over his. “I’m so sorry you lost your friends. But anyone would have done the same.”

  “Maybe. But if I’d stayed at my post, they’d be alive today.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  He shook his head.

  “Zach—” Her fingers moved comfortingly on his hand. “If something I did made you think about it, I’m sorry.”

  “Not your fault.” He turned his hand, so that he clasped hers. “I guess it was seeing her so absorbed in making that necklace. Her mother loved to make things, too. She’d do these little crafts with Ruthie whenever she had the time. Seeing her like that reminded me of Miriam.”

  “They’d be proud of the way you’re raising their daughter.”

  “I hope so.”

  “I know so.” Her mouth curved in a smile. “Anyone can see how she adores you.”

  “The feeling is mutual.” He smiled back at her, and somehow those smiles seemed to touch a deep well of understanding. Her green eyes darkened with awareness. But she didn’t look away.

  The moment drew into an eternity. And then he leaned across the counter and kissed her.

  Her lips were soft under his, and she made a small sound that might have expressed surprise. Then she leaned into the kiss, reaching up to touch his cheek with her fingers.

  The counter was a barrier between them. Maybe that was just as well. It forced him, eventually, to pull back.

  Caro’s eyes were soft, almost dazed. He touched her hair, and one of those wild curls tangled around his fingers, seeming to cling with a mind of its own.

  He couldn’t do this. He drew back, shocked at himself. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have.”

  She turned away. “No. I mean…we shouldn’t. It’s not a good idea.”

  It wasn’t. But that didn’t keep him from wanting to kiss her again.

  So probably he’d better go before he got himself into any more trouble.

  Caroline folded the quilt carefully, wrapping a sheet around it. She’d come to the house for a family dinner and couldn’t resist showing off the repair work she was doing on the antique quilt. “I’ve actually found references to a quilt Elizabeth was making. I’d like to believe it was this one, although there’s no proof, of course.”

  “It’s like a treasure hunt,” Andrea said. She folded napkins, setting the table with the same efficiency she used to prepare a spreadsheet. Rachel’s Tyler had come up from Baltimore for the weekend, and she was busy in the kitchen, having chased the others out to the breakfast room to set the table. “I wonder if there are any other primary sources. Journals, other letters, family histories—that sort of thing.”

  “I hadn’t thought of that.” Caro carried a stack of Grams’s favorite Lenox plates to the table. It was far better to keep herself occupied with the mystery of the quilt rather than let her mind stray to Zach and that kiss.

  He’d known immediately that it was a mistake. They both had. Why did she find it upsetting that he’d been so quick to admit that? She knew as well as he did that there couldn’t be anything between them.

  “Caro?”

  She blinked, jerking her mind back to the present to find Andrea looking at her questioningly.

  “Sorry. My mind was wandering. What did you say?”

  “I asked if you wanted me to do an Internet search to see if I could locate any other information.”

  “That would be great. As it is, it’s like listening to only one side of the conversation. If only I had Elizabeth’s letters to her sister, instead of just her sister’s to her.”

  “That would be pure gold if I could find that,” Andrea said. “And about as rare. But let me take a look and see what I find.”

  “Are you talking about the quilt?” Grams carried a pitcher of daffodils to the table.

  “If it is the same quilt, and that’s a big if, Elizabeth’s sister mentions getting the pattern for her from a Reverend Albright. You wouldn’t expect a minister to be passing on quilt patterns.”

  “Maybe it was from his wife.” Grams tweaked the blossoms. “I think everything is ready in here. Do we dare interrupt Rachel to see if she’s ready?”

  “Not I,” Caro said quickly. Rachel was the mildest of creatures, but she could turn violent if interrupted in the midst of culinary creation.

  “Nor I,” Andrea said quickly.

  Caro grinned. “Up to you, Grams.”

  Grams gave a ladylike snort. “I’ll get her.”

  But the kitchen door popped open, and Rachel burst through carrying a laden tray. “Where are the men? The food is ready now.”

  “We’re here.” Cal’s voice sounded from the hallway. He never strayed far away from Andrea, she noticed. Tyler loomed behind him, and Rachel’s gaze caught his.

  Something clutched Caro’s heart. Surely she wasn’t jealous, was she? Her sisters deserved to find happiness with good men who loved them.

  It was just that she felt…bereft, she supposed. Not at the loss of Tony, but at the realization that what she’d imagined they’d meant to each other was an illusion.

  There was no one for her, and she was left standing on the outside, watching her sisters’ happiness but unable to share it.

  Rachel carried platters to the table, and for a few moments all was confusion as she and Andrea brought the rest of the food, filled water glasses and finally took their places around the long table.

  Grams reached out, and they all linked hands around the table. She’d forgotten, in all those years away, that family custom. Rachel held her hand on one side and Andrea on the other. She could almost imagine she felt love flowing through the link as Grams asked the blessing on the meal and on the family.

  They loosed hands at the Amen, and platters began to fly around the table—fried chicken, baked corn, fluffy mashed potatoes, the relishes that were characteristic of a Pennsylvania Dutch dinner.

  “Rachel, you’ve outdone yourself.” Cal took a biscuit and passed the basket to Grams. “This is wonderful.”

  “Well, she had an incentive,” Andrea teased, with a sidelong glance at Tyler. “Tyler was coming.”

  Tyler grinned. “Then you shou
ld thank me, right?”

  “I guess so.” Andrea took a forkful of mashed potatoes and looked at Grams. “Can we tell Caro yet?”

  “Tell me what?” She couldn’t help a spasm of apprehension. Most of the surprises in her life had not been happy ones.

  “I suppose we’d better, since you’ve given it away,” Grams said.

  “What?” Surely they wouldn’t all be smiling at her if it were bad news.

  “We’ve seen how much you love dealing with the local arts and crafts,” Grams said. “So we thought a good addition to the bed-and-breakfast would be a crafts shop in the barn. Which you would run, of course.”

  She could only stare. “But…that would be very expensive, renovating the barn, getting the stock. I don’t have any cash to put into a project like that.”

  Thanks to Tony. If he hadn’t wiped her out, this might be a possibility. But if he hadn’t, she might never have come home and realized that what she wanted was right here.

  “Your contribution would be your expertise,” Andrea said. “Grams will front the start-up costs with the settlement she received from the embezzlement of Grandfather’s business. And I’m sure I can get you a small-business loan for whatever else we need.”

  Her mind whirled with possibilities, and for a moment she let herself hope. “But the renovations—”

  “You have a carpenter and an architect right in the family,” Tyler said. “I’ve already drawn up some preliminary plans, but Cal and I need your input. We thought you might want some space for craft classes and groups to meet.”

  She tried to combat the tears that welled in her eyes. “I can’t let you do all this for me. It’s too risky. There are other craft and gift shops….”

  “You have access to Amish-made crafts that many others don’t.” Grams smiled, her eyes soft with tears. “Emma loves you as if you were one of her own children.”

  “She mentioned the idea to begin with,” Andrea said. “Rachel and I just took it and ran with it.”

  “So, Caroline.” Grams smiled through her tears. “What do you say? Will you do it?”

  She couldn’t speak. Couldn’t say anything in the face of this overwhelming love. She could only nod and put up her hands to try and stem the tears that overflowed, washing away the barriers that remained between them.

  Zach had stayed away from Caro for several days, trying to forget that kiss. It hadn’t worked. Still, he’d managed to rationalize it to a certain extent.

  They were attracted to each other, and they’d had a moment of closeness that took them both a little too far. More serious for him than for her. There was no actual investigation going on, so he hadn’t violated any regulations, but he knew in his heart that was a cop-out.

  Attraction or not, he had a responsibility to check on her. Santa Fe PD might not want to involve him in their investigation of Tony Gibson, but he wouldn’t ignore the odd things that kept happening in Caroline’s vicinity.

  At least, that was what he told himself when he pulled up to the side door of the inn. He wanted to touch base with Rachel. If she could talk her stubborn sister into moving into the house, he’d feel a lot better about Caroline’s safety.

  But when he tapped at the door nearest the kitchen, it was Emma who answered. “Morning, Emma. Is Rachel around?”

  “She has gone to New Holland for groceries. Is there some way I can help you, Zachary?”

  Emma had moved to a first-name basis with him when her son had been injured last year.

  “It’s nothing important. I’ll catch her later. What about Caroline?”

  “Ach, she is not here, either. She has gone to the airport to pick up her friend who comes for a visit.”

  That was the first he’d heard of a friend coming. Someone from her life in New Mexico? Maybe someone who knew Tony? “Was that her friend from Santa Fe?”

  “Ja, the lady she worked for out there. I have the blue bedroom all ready for her.”

  “Guess it wasn’t my day to find anyone home. Stay well, Emma.”

  She nodded, shutting the door.

  That was a pointless trip. Still, it was interesting to learn that her employer was coming. Francine Carrington—the woman who’d reported her missing.

  He went down the steps, glancing toward Caroline’s apartment, and came to a stop. Caroline might not be there, but someone was. He caught sight of a flicker of blue, maybe a shirt, disappearing around the corner of the barn.

  Could be nothing. Could be the person who’d been in the apartment a couple of times, back for another try.

  He glanced toward the patrol car, but it would be faster on foot. He jumped lightly off the patio and ran across the grass.

  Better this way, in any event. The prowler, if that’s what he was, would hear a car coming. This way, he’d catch him unawares.

  It worked out just about that way. He rounded the end of the barn, moving quietly on the grass instead of the path, and there the man was, looking in the window.

  “Police. Stop right there and turn around.”

  Somehow he wasn’t entirely surprised when the man turned around. Jason Tenley, supposed photojournalist. He hadn’t bought that from the moment he’d met the man.

  “Just looking for Ms. Hampton, Chief. That’s all.” Tenley held his hands up, palms toward him, as if to show he wasn’t holding a weapon.

  Not that he expected a weapon. If the prowler had intended harm to Caro, he wouldn’t do it by making coffee.

  “Looking in her window?” He shook his head. “You’ll have to do better than that, Mr. Tenley. Suppose we go back to my office and talk about it.”

  Tenley looked chagrined. “You’re not really going to arrest me, are you? I suppose technically I’m trespassing, but…”

  “Prowling was the word I had in mind,” Zach said. Something was off-key here. The man wasn’t reacting the way he should be, having been caught by the police.

  “Guess maybe it’s time to come clean.” Tenley tried a disarming smile.

  “It wouldn’t hurt.” He wasn’t disarmed.

  “I’m not a peeping Tom. I’m an insurance investigator. Let me reach into my pocket, and I’ll show you my ID.”

  Zach gave a curt nod. Insurance investigator. The words sounded more reasonable than the photojournalist bit.

  Tenley handed over an ID folder. Zach studied it and then slid it into his pocket.

  “You won’t mind my hanging on to this until I check it out.”

  “Wouldn’t do any good arguing, would it? Especially since I’d like your cooperation.”

  “It’s a bit late for that.”

  “I guess it looks that way from your viewpoint.”

  “From any cop’s viewpoint.” The guy might be legit, but that didn’t mean he was letting him off easily. “If you come into my jurisdiction on an investigation, you ought to know enough to check in with me. Now, why are you here?”

  And what did it have to do with Caroline?

  “You’re right. I shouldn’t have tried to take a short cut. The truth is, my company is on the hook for a substantial sum over a charity auction in Santa Fe, and they’re not eager to advertise the fact that they’ve been had. A very expensive piece of Native American jewelry that was donated for the auction has turned out to be a skillful fake.”

  He didn’t need the man to connect the dots for him. “Caroline Hampton was, I assume, the jewelry expert on the gallery’s staff.”

  Tenley nodded. “She’s the only one, so far as we’ve been able to determine, who had the skill to make such a convincing switch.”

  “I take it you don’t have any actual evidence, or this would be coming from the police.”

  “That’s about the size of it.” Tenley ran a hand over his graying hair, then massaged the back of his neck. “It’s been a real headache. Both the owner and the insurance company want to keep this a private matter as long as there’s a chance of regaining the object.”

  “And what progress have you made?” He wouldn
’t let himself focus on the Caroline he’d grown to know. He couldn’t.

  “Precious little.” Tenley spread his hands. “Ms. Hampton hasn’t made a suspicious move since she’s been here. Only thing that might have caught my attention was that trip to Philadelphia, but since she went with you, I assume she wasn’t contacting any fences.”

  “No.” He was tempted to hold the man until he’d checked out his story, but that would be more a product of his own irritation than good police work. “Where are you staying, Mr. Tenley?”

  “White Rose Inn, out on the highway.”

  “All right.” He gave a curt nod. “Stop by my office tomorrow afternoon. I’ll have checked this out by then. In the meantime, stay off this property. We clear?”

  “Right.” If Tenley was relieved, he didn’t show it. “I’ll be on my way.”

  He went quickly, rounding the end of the barn at a lope. A moment later his car bounced out the lane toward the road. Zach watched, automatically noting make and model, license number.

  Now what? Go back to the office, check out the story Tenley told.

  It would check out. Tenley wouldn’t make up something so easy to disprove. And then—well, then he was going to have to tread very carefully.

  He’d begun to have feelings for Caro. But those feelings could explode and hurt both of them if she wasn’t the woman he thought her to be.

  On the other hand, if she was innocent in all this, she’d feel betrayed when she learned he’d been investigating her. And she’d been betrayed too many times in her life to forgive that again. There was no possible happy ending in all of this that he could see.

  THIRTEEN

  “Now we’re getting into typical Pennsylvania Dutch country.” Caroline nodded toward the dairy farms spread across the rolling landscape. Once she’d picked up Francine at the airport in Philadelphia, she’d been eager to get off the interstate and out into the country again.