Read Different Paths Online

Authors: Judy Clemens

Tags: #Fiction / Mystery & Detective / General

Different Paths (7 page)

BOOK: Different Paths
11.88Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Chapter Thirteen

“One more stop,” I said.

Lucy slowed at the corner of Bethlehem Pike and Reliance Road and made a right. “Where? Grocery store?”

“Police station.”

She glanced at me. “What for?”

“I want to see if Willard got any answers yesterday when they finished with Carla’s truck. From the sound of the news this morning they still don’t have a suspect, and I want to know what’s going on.”

“Carla hadn’t heard anything.”

“Yeah, but maybe Willard didn’t want to bother her in the hospital.”

She considered that. “Okay. Your wish is my command.”

Right.

Lucy parked across the street from the station and helped me out of the passenger seat.

I took a deep breath. “I’m okay from here.”

“You sure?”

“Positive.”

She glanced across the tracks in the direction of Landis’ Supermarket. “Then I’m gonna run to the grocery store. Putting your jeans in that bag reminded me of some things I need.”

“Bring a donut back for me? Please?”

She smiled. “Just don’t tell Lenny, or he’ll feel left out.”

I zipped my lips with my fingers and almost fell over. Lucy got a good laugh.

My entrance into the police station was just as clumsy, and Gladys, the receptionist, regarded me with wide eyes. “What happened to you?”

I yanked my crutch from where it was stuck in the outside door and rested on it. “Short version? Big cow, broken foot.”

“Ouch. Gonna lay you up a while?”

“Not if I can help it.”

“But no more motorcycle.”

“Not for now.” I used a crutch to point toward the back. “Willard in?”

“Sure. Let me help you.” She buzzed the door, then got up to hold it open while I stumbled through. I managed to club her both in the ribs and the shin.

“Sorry.”

She held a hand to her side. “S’alright. I’ll survive. Just remember Willard does have a gun. And he’s not afraid to use it.”

I could hear Willard’s voice as I clumped down the hallway, and I stopped outside his office. When the receiver hit the cradle I poked my head in. “Busy?”

He looked up and froze, expressionless, at the sight of my crutches.

“Big cow, broken foot,” I said.

“Ah. Want to have a seat?”

“I thought you’d never ask.” I somehow got myself into the chair without knocking anything over, and set the crutches across the arms of the chair. Willard and I both breathed a sigh of relief.

“Today?” Willard asked.

“Just now.”

“Bummer.”

“You could say that. So’d you hear anything from the requests on the radio the past two mornings?”

“You caught that, huh?” He drummed his pencil on the desk. “Nothing new. Got a couple of calls from people who think they saw the truck, but nothing concrete, and no further description of the driver.”

“What about the fingerprints from the rear view mirror? Anything from them?”

He sighed. “Got some pretty prints. Clear as day, no question. Ran the ones that didn’t match Dr. Beaumont through the Automated Fingerprint Identification System. Not one match. Whoever left those prints has never been in the computer.”

My turn to say, “Bummer.”

“It is. Makes it even more unlikely that he was after the drugs, because most druggies and dealers have been caught multiple times and would certainly be in the database.” He tossed the pencil in the air and caught it. “But I guess there’s always a first time.”

“So you’re still checking the drug angle?”

“Have to. It’s the only thing we have going for us at this point. Whoever it was didn’t get seen by anyone who can help us. Or anyone who knows it, anyway.”

I leaned my elbows on the crutches, and put my chin in my hands. “So you really didn’t have anything to tell Carla.”

He looked puzzled. “No. Why?”

“I thought maybe you were just saving her feelings.”

“Nope. But it’s nice you think I’m one of those sensitive guys.”

“Yeah, right. Hey, did you hear about Kulpsville Mennonite?”

“The church? What about it?”

“It was vandalized last night. Somebody destroyed a bunch of the new minister’s personal property and painted graffiti in the building.”

“They must still be checking it out, or I’d have heard by now.”

“Will you let me know if you find out anything interesting about it?”

He bounced his pencil on its eraser. “Why? You have connections?”

“The new minister is a friend of the Grangers. I met her the other night.”

“Her?”

“Yup. It’s a woman.”

He nodded, curiosity lighting his face. “I guess those Mennonites might join the twenty-first century, after all.”

I thought about the discussion around Ma’s dinner table the other night, and the message painted on Katherine’s office wall. “I don’t know,” I told Willard. “But I wouldn’t bet the farm on it.”

Chapter Fourteen

Queenie ran circles around the Civic when we pulled into the drive, and Lucy honked the horn at her, laughing. “What’s gotten into her?”

“Dunno.”

Zach loped out of the barn, followed by his friend Randy, and reached me as I clambered out of the car.

Randy stared at my cast. “What happened to you?”

“Stupid Wendy.”

His eyes widened, like he was trying to look concerned while keeping himself from laughing.

Zach
did
laugh.

I scowled at him. “What?”

“Stupid Wendy had a beautiful calf.”

I waited expectantly for the gender.

He grinned. “Heifer.”

I let out a breath of disbelief. At least the dumb cow had had the sense to produce a girl this time. I have nothing against boys in general, of course, Zach being one of my favorite people—not to mention Nick—but in the dairy business boys aren’t really a whole lot of help. Girls I can keep and add to my milking herd. Boys I sell to another farmer who raises beef, or to kids like Randy, who need a 4-H project.

“You have to do anything for her?” I asked.

“Nah. She pretty much took care of it.”

“It’s about time.” I slammed the car door and hitched the crutch under my arm. The boys backed out of the way as I lurched past them. They stood there, staring, as I made my way toward the barn. I turned on them. “Don’t you have something you should be doing?”

Zach opened his mouth, then shut it, his face a blank. “Sure. Sure we do.”

“Then go do it.”

He and Randy glanced at each other, then scootched past me toward the barn, skirting widely around, out of range of my crutches.

I looked at Lucy, whose eyes crinkled as she regarded me, her mouth twitching. She looked at the ground, then back at me, her expression under control. “Um, what are you planning to do for the rest of the day?”

“I’m going to my office. You have a problem with that?”

“Nope. No problem. You going to go see the new calf?”

“Maybe someday. When I don’t feel like sending her mother to the meat packer.” I turned to clump away as gracefully as I could.

Lucy’s voice followed me. “Let me know if you need anything.”

I didn’t bother to respond.

Between my computer and a few doses of ibuprofen I made it through the afternoon. Lucy brought me a sandwich at one point, but other than that she pretty much left me alone, which was surprising. I expected her to be checking in every five minutes to make sure I wasn’t overdoing myself. Queenie hadn’t even stayed to give me company, preferring the activity of the farm.

Zach stuck around, helping Lucy with the work I should’ve been doing. Randy stayed, too, alternately helping and watching, seeing how he wasn’t being paid. When Mallory drove up to the house a little before five, I pushed myself up from the desk to go say hello. My muscles were stiff, and it took me a while to make it all the way outside.

Mallory and Brady Willard stood beside the car, staring at me.

“Cow stepped on me.” I was getting tired of saying it.

Mallory nodded, but Brady looked confused. “What?”

“Ever drop five hundred pounds on your foot?” I asked.

He shook his head, clearly impressed.

I looked at Mallory. “You here for Zach?”

“Yeah. He said he could take the night off.”

“Oh, really?”

She looked surprised. “He can’t?”

I glanced around and saw him coming from the barn with Randy. “I gave you the night off?”

He stopped beside me. “I asked last week. You said yes.”

“Oh. All right.”

“Didn’t know that broken foot would cause memory loss.”

I swung a crutch at him and lost my balance, falling onto Mallory, who staggered, but kept us both upright.

I righted myself. “Like I’m going to keep you here twenty-four seven. Where you off to tonight?”

“MYF,” Mallory said, meaning Mennonite Youth Fellowship, the church youth group. “We’re having a joint meeting with Kulpsville, to meet the new minister.”

“Are you going there?” I couldn’t imagine the church hosting an event when it had just been vandalized. But then, the MYF wouldn’t be partying in Katherine’s office.

“Yeah. They’ve got a pretty nice fellowship hall. And it’s air-conditioned.”

I pointed a crutch at Randy. “You going?”

He nodded. “Everyone from our MYF is supposed to go, since she’s our new pastor.”

Mallory continued. “Other groups are coming, too. Blooming Glen, I think. And Perkasie.”

“Katherine’s son going to be there?”

Mallory wrinkled her nose. “Trevor? I suppose.”

Zach shook his head and looked at Randy.

I caught the look. “What?”

“Nothing. He’s just…weird.”

“Zach.” Mallory frowned.

“Well, he is.”

“Yeah,” Randy said. “Super weird. You should’ve seen what he wore to church last Sunday. My mom wouldn’t let me come to the
farm
in those jeans.”

Mallory turned her frown on him. “You’d be upset, too, if your parents dragged you across a couple of states before your senior year. And how was he supposed to know what kids wear to church around here?”

Brady looked at Mallory with surprise. “How come you’re defending him?”

“Because he’s not weird.”

Zach and Randy made disbelieving sounds.

“Okay, fine,” Mallory said. “He might be weird, but that’s no reason to be nasty. It can’t be easy being a PK, especially when the P in question is a woman.” She held up her keys. “Now are you guys coming, or not?”

Randy hooked his thumb over his shoulder. “I drove over. I thought Zach was coming with me.”

“We can drop you off here afterward, for your car.”

“But I want to drive.”

Mallory bit her lip. “Um, okay, but Mom wants me to drive Zach.”

Randy nodded. “Sure. I get it. She doesn’t trust me.”

“It’s not that…”

“No, never mind.” He lifted his chin at Zach. “See you there.
If I make it in one piece
.”

So sarcasm wasn’t reserved solely for adults.

We watched him drive ever so slowly out the drive in his big old Caddy, the car making a little whining noise I didn’t like. He didn’t spit out so much as one piece of gravel.

“Way to go, Mal,” Zach said.

Mallory rubbed her forehead, keys clanking. “I was hoping he wouldn’t say anything, and just come with us.”

Zach gave my crutches one last look and slumped into the back seat of Mallory’s car. She threw me a sick look before sliding into the driver’s seat, Brady sitting shotgun. I waved with my elbow, and they were gone.

I was trying to balance in front of my refrigerator, looking for something easy to eat, when the window above my kitchen sink began vibrating. I hobbled over and saw Lenny and Tess astride his hog, parking to the side of the driveway. I couldn’t help but smile at the sight—Lenny with his big bike, big beard, and big body, completely overwhelming the small girl behind him. He stepped off the bike, then gently lifted Tess down, keeping her far from the hot pipes. Together they pulled the helmet off of her head and set it on the ground. He ruffled her hair, and I had a hard time believing anyone could be a better dad for Lucy’s daughter.

Queenie ran around them as they made their way toward my door, and Tess fell over her, laughing. Queenie made sure there weren’t any spots left on Tess’ face that weren’t licked clean.

By the time I made it out of the kitchen, Tess was barging in the front door. “Mom said you broke your foot! Let me see! Does it hurt? Those crutches are so cool! Can I try them?”

Lenny, who followed her in, gave a guffaw. “Take a breath, honeypie. Don’t want you keeling over. Stella here can’t catch you.”

“Gee, thanks.” I tried to frown, but couldn’t with the sight of Lenny’s grin.

“Big ol’ cow got ya, huh?”

“Yup.”

“Too bad. Lucy called and said we should come on over for supper and she’d feed us all here. ‘Cause you know, you might starve otherwise.” He smiled bigger, exposing the gap between his front teeth.

“I just might.”

“Where is Mom?” Tess skipped to the sink and hoisted herself up so she could see out the window.

“I don’t know. Figured she was here somewhere.”

Lenny pointed outside with his thumb. “Car’s not here.”

“It’s not? Huh.”

Lenny snorted. “Such an observant boss.”

“Hey. I trust my employees, that’s all.”

“Uh-huh. Taken much painkiller today?”

“Oh, shut up.”

“Something,” Lenny said to Tess, “that we should never say to people.”

I glared at him, and he gave me his innocent look.

“There’s a new calf,” I told Tess. “If you want to see it.”

“Really?” She jumped up and down, grabbing Lenny’s arm. “Can we? Can we?”

“Sure, sugar. Let’s go.” He stopped Tess’ forward progress for a moment as he looked back at me. “You coming?”

I hadn’t seen the new calf yet, so I agreed. Tess ran ahead and was already oohing and aahing over the new heifer by the time I got there. The calf was a pretty little girl, with black circles over each eye, and white stocking feet.

“Does she have a name?” Tess asked.

“Not yet.” I looked at Tess’ eager face. “Want to name her?”

She let out a little shriek. “Yes! Yes, yes, yes!”

Lenny winked at me. “I think she wants to.”

I laughed. “So what’s it gonna be?”

She bit her lip and hopped from one foot to the other as she considered. “Can I think about it?”

“Sure. No rush. You can—”

Lucy’s car pulled into the drive and Tess whipped around. “Mom!” The girl jumped up and ran across the yard to her mother, hugging Lucy’s waist as she held up two bags of groceries. We could hear Tess’ excited yammering from where we stood by the hutches. “Stella’s gonna let me name the new calf, but I don’t know what yet. What’re we having? I’m starved!”

Lucy laughed, catching Lenny’s eye as we walked up. “That’s great about the calf, honey. And we’re having tacos for everybody. I even got a couple of avocados to make that guacamole Stella likes.”

My stomach rumbled, and I wondered how fast supper could be ready.

It was on the table in record time, with everyone helping. Lenny and Tess set out the plates and glasses, and I was put to work chopping tomatoes. When I reminded Lucy of my lack of cooking skills, she assured me that no one had ever died from a badly sliced vegetable.

“So,” I said once the food was ready, grace had been given, and Lucy’s taco was poised underneath her open mouth. “You really thought Bryan was cute?”

Lenny looked at his wife, eyebrows raised. “Don’t like the sound of that.”

She set down her taco and patted his hand. “Don’t worry, darling, he’s not my type.” To me, she said, “Yes, I did. He seemed very sweet, and obviously adores Carla.”

“Oh,” Lenny said. “Carla’s new man?”

Tess clapped. “Carla has a boyfriend?” She thought about this a bit more and stopped clapping, a furrow on her forehead.

“He’s weird,” I said.

Lucy picked up her taco again. “No, he’s not. He’s nice.”

“And you can tell that how? By the way his belt buckle takes up half the room?”

She frowned at me. “He likes Carla, and she likes him. That should be enough for you. No matter what the size of his accessories.”

“But we don’t know anything about him. He could be anybody.”

“And so what? There’s lot of nice ‘anybodys’ out there.” She lifted up her taco, but stopped before taking a bite. “He works at the Home Depot, right? You know that.”

“So he has a job,” Lenny said. “That’s good.”

Lucy nodded. “And he’s taking care of her dog. So he likes animals.”

“Then he
must
be nice,” Tess said.

Lucy smiled. “Try to swallow before you talk, honey.”

I fiddled with my napkin. “I still don’t like it.”

“I know you don’t.” Lucy’s voice was kind. “But
Carla
really likes
him
.”

Tess held up a chunk of tomato. “How come these are in such big pieces?”

Lucy looked to me for an answer, and Bryan was forgotten.

By the time supper was over I was ready to help with the evening milking. I stood up at the end of the meal and made to follow Lucy out the door while Lenny and Tess cleaned up.

Lucy stopped, one hand on her hip. “And where do you think you’re going?”

“To help milk.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Doctor said I could.”

“Uh-huh.”

We stood there for several seconds before Lucy shook her head, rolled her eyes, and continued out the door. The door slammed shut on my crutch, but Lucy didn’t turn around to hold it for me. By the time I got it open and made my way down the side steps she was already in the barn. Stubborn woman.

I finally got into the parlor, where Lucy ignored me. She didn’t say a word, but I soon learned one very important thing: crutches and cow crap don’t work well together.

The third time I fell—also the third time Lucy pretended it hadn’t happened—was enough. I gathered together what was left of my pride and stumbled to my office. Queenie stayed in the parlor, most likely afraid of getting a crutch in her eye or me falling on her head. Can’t say I blamed her.

When I made it to my chair and had gotten my breath back, I called Carla’s house. I wanted to know how it went, moving back home from the hospital.

There was no answer, so I called Grand View. Carla was still in her room.

“How come you’re still there?”

Her frustration was almost visible at my end of the phone. “The doctor didn’t get here till late this afternoon. Said he wanted to keep me overnight yet. Guess he needs to make one more payment on his yacht. Or his villa in Guadalupe.”

“Carla—”

“I know, I know. It’s for my own good.”

“I wasn’t going to say that. I was going to say that if he’s anybody his villa is in Cancun.”

She laughed harshly. “Yeah. Whatever. He said I can go home in the morning, as long as nothing happens overnight.”

“You feeling okay?”

“I’m fine. How’s your foot?”

“Peachy.”

“Sure. Lucy kick you out of the barn yet?”

“Not exactly.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Bryan there?”

BOOK: Different Paths
11.88Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

One Night by Eric Jerome Dickey
Night’s Edge by Barbara Hambly
The Overlanders by Nelson Nye
The Orphan Choir by Hannah, Sophie
Dr. Frank Einstein by Berg, Eric
Death Knocks Three Times by Anthony Gilbert