SummerHill Secrets, Volume 1 (8 page)

Officer Rhodes seemed preoccupied, brushing cat hair off the cushion. “By the way, may we see your cat again, Merry?”

Skip looked puzzled, then he chuckled. “Merry’s got three cats.”

Lissa’s father leaned forward suddenly. “Let’s have a look at them,” he demanded, not in the polite way he’d spoken to me earlier on the phone.

I swallowed hard. They were on to something. Probably the yellow ribbon. Why hadn’t I gotten rid of it before, when I had the chance? “I’ll call the cats,” I said, excusing myself.

Quickly, I ran into the kitchen. It was a good excuse to check up on Lissa’s whereabouts. I hurried to the side window, so the police in the yard couldn’t see. “Here, kitty, kitty,” I called, pretending to search. I kept my eyes peeled for Lissa as I continued calling for the cats.

Way down the lane, I spotted a thin shadow in the moonlight, walking with a slight limp, as demurely as a real Amish girl.

Good! Lissa had made it past the cops!

Two of my cats came bounding across the kitchen floor, sliding on the rug as they came to a stop. I picked up Shadrach and Meshach and nuzzled them against my face.

Where was Abednego? And what could I dream up about that yellow ribbon without telling a lie?

My heart in my throat, I called to my wayward cat. “Abednego, where are you?” Carrying Shadrach and Meshach into the living room, I felt the hairs on the back of my neck prickle.

Officer Rhodes glared first at one cat, then the other. He frowned, obviously puzzled.

“Abednego’s missing again,” I explained, directing my comment to Skip.

“That cat’s
always
missing,” my brother said, getting up to find him.

I wished Skip would sit still. Abednego needed to stay hidden!

Staring down at the golden cats in my lap, I wondered what to do or say next. My heart throbbed.

“Abednego. Isn’t that a biblical name?” said Officer Vyner, obviously trying to sound more cordial.

“Yes, sir. Abednego is the name of one of the three Hebrew children who were thrown into the king’s fiery furnace.” I felt a bit hot myself.

Shadrach broke the silence by coughing up a hairball. I snickered quietly as the two men tried to keep from grossing out.

Soon, Skip came in the room, carrying Abednego by the nape of his yellow-ribboned neck. “Here’s the rascal.”

“Be careful,” I said, reaching out to rescue my pet.

Skip plopped him down on top of the other cats in my lap.

“You’ve heard of three blind mice,” he said, showing off for the police. “Well, here we have three dumb cats.”

I wished there was a way to get rid of that yellow ribbon before…

Instantly, Officer Rhodes stood up. Towering over my lapful of cats, he reached down to touch Abednego.

Pph-ht!
The cat hissed and sprang his claws out in defense. Officer Rhodes jumped back.

“Sorry, sir. He’s real funny about strangers,” I said. But the policeman approached Abednego again and the black cat leaped off my lap, scurrying out of the living room, meowing angrily.

“Why, that little—” Officer Rhodes boomed.

Frightened by the thunderous remark, Shadrach and Meshach jumped off my lap, too, racing after big brother.

“Uh, I’ll be right back,” I said, joining the chase.

Skip ran after me, following a trail of cats into Dad’s study.

“I’ll check upstairs,” I said, running for dear life up the long flight of steps. “Here, kitty, kitty.” I searched everywhere. In the bathroom, even Skip’s room. But Abednego had vanished. My heart pounded. I had to find him before Skip did!

Shouting and hooting came from downstairs. What was going on? I listened again. It sounded like—could it be? Were our visitors actually chasing my cats around the house? It wasn’t funny, but for a microsecond, I couldn’t keep from smiling.

Turning back to the problem at hand, I frantically checked all of Abednego’s favorite hiding places. No cat. While in my room, I opened my dresser drawer and found my own yellow hair ribbon.

I wouldn’t have to lie about the ribbon—if only I could switch it with the one on Abednego’s neck.

“Dear Lord,” I murmured, “this is urgent stuff. I have to be the one to find Abednego. Can you please help me?” It was a desperate plea, one that needed immediate heavenly attention!

I kept searching, hoping Abednego had outsmarted his pursuers. Frustrated and thinking of Lissa, I sat on the edge of my bed. “Where are you, kitty?” I sang softly.

Whish, swish.

I looked down. A long black tail flicked against my ankle. Slowly kneeling beside the bed, I pulled the comforter up and peeked under. “Come here, little boy,” I pleaded.

Cautiously, timidly, Abednego came.

“Good boy,” I whispered, untying the hair ribbon with shaking fingers. Quickly, I replaced it with my own yellow one, an exact match, except for one thing: My initials had been cross-stitched on one end of the ribbon.

Before taking Abednego downstairs for further questioning, I tossed the old ribbon in the fruit leather shoe box in my closet. And pushed the lid down hard.

“Hold him still!” Mr. Vyner commanded.

Gently, but firmly, I held my whining, hissing kitty as Officer Vyner’s fingers carelessly untied the yellow ribbon. I remembered the way Abednego had warmed up to Lissa. He was smart that way. He knew the difference between kind and cruel.

Roughly, Lissa’s father pulled the ribbon off my cat’s neck. A determined scowl swept across his face and stayed there. “It’s hers all right,” he growled, handing over the evidence to his partner. “Where is she, young lady?”

I held my breath, terrified.

“Hold on a minute, Vyner.” Officer Rhodes stared at the ribbon, turning it over. “These aren’t Lissa’s initials. Take another look.”

I sighed a deep, trembly sigh, waiting…

Lissa’s father grabbed the ribbon from Officer Rhodes, then tossed it gruffly onto the coffee table. “We’re wasting our time here,” he grumbled and marched out of the room.

Officer Rhodes stayed behind a few minutes, boring his stern eyes into mine. “We suspect Lissa may try to contact you again, Merry.”

I could read between the lines. It wasn’t so much what he said, but the way he said it.

“Yes, sir,” I managed to say.

Officer Rhodes excused himself, apologizing for taking up so much of our evening. Skip got up and showed him out. When Skip returned, he collapsed in a chair. “Man, this better be the last time. I can’t take all this excitement.”

He can’t? What about me!

As soon as Skip settled down in front of the TV, I hurried into the kitchen and grabbed a handful of cookies. I put them in a sandwich bag for later, still thinking about the police encounter. These guys meant business! And I knew it wouldn’t be long till they were back. In the meantime, they’d probably be watching the place like hawks.

Another thought disturbed me: Mr. Vyner had seemed more angry than anxious over Lissa’s disappearance. Shivers flew up and down my spine.

I waited till the squad cars left before going upstairs. Quickly, I packed my gym bag full of clothes—non-Amish ones—for Lissa. Along with the clothes, I squeezed in a few books. Some poetry, and my Bible. Then I crept downstairs, put on my jacket, and stood in the hallway hoping Skip wouldn’t notice I was leaving.

Suddenly, a news announcer’s voice came on the television, stopping me cold. “We interrupt our regularly scheduled programming for this bulletin: Fourteen-year-old Lissa Vyner of Lancaster county has been reported missing as of this evening,” the news reporter said. “If you or anyone you know has seen or heard from Lissa, please call the number on the screen immediately. Authorities are standing by.”

“Did you hear that, Mer?” Skip yelled from the living room.

I bit my lip, hoping he wouldn’t wander out here. “I heard,” I called back to him. “Sounds real serious.”

“Yeah, you’re not kidding,” he hollered.

I waited a few more minutes to make sure he wasn’t going to continue talking. When I felt it was safe to leave, I slipped out the back door.

Lissa was huddled against a tree deep in the willow grove when I finally got to her. She looked around as if she was still afraid of being seen out in the open. “I thought one of the cops was going to stop me at first,” she whispered. “But I remembered what you said and kept my head down. I guess they thought I really was Amish.”

“Wow, was that ever close!” I glanced around beneath the willow branches.

She tugged on her woolen shawl. “What happened? What did my dad say?”

“You’ll never believe it.” I told her everything, even about switching hair ribbons on the cat.

“You did that?” she asked, her eyes wide.

“Lucky for us I had one the same color, but with my initials stitched on it.”

“Good thinking,” she said, looking positively Amish in the moonlight.

A nervous giggle burst out of me.

“What’s so funny?” she asked, reaching up to touch her bonnet.

“You look like a regular Amish girl, that’s all.”

We approached the picket fence. “You saved my life, Merry Hanson,” she said solemnly. “That’s what you did.”

I helped her climb over the fence in her long dress. “I did my best,” I said, wishing I could say the same about Faithie. I hadn’t done a thing to save her.

Lissa winced as she limped across the meadow. I reached out to steady her, thankful to have been given a second chance. This time I would not fail another human being. I would do whatever it took to protect my friend.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

I glanced at her, feeling the urgency sweep over me. Still a bit unnerved and worried about the police showing up in the neighborhood, I summoned the courage I needed for Lissa’s flight to safety. “To the Grossdawdy Haus.” I pointed to the large addition on the north side of Rachel’s house where her grandparents lived. “We’re all set,” I said as confidently as I could. “Rachel says you can stay with her grandparents till after Curly John’s wedding.”

“By myself?”

“Don’t worry,” I said, offering her a couple of cookies. “You won’t be alone.”

We quickened our pace through the cow pasture, toward the Zooks’ house. “I think you’ll be very safe here, Lissa,” I said, guiding her around through the backyard. Slowly, we approached the sun porch of the grandparents’ addition to the main house. “You shouldn’t have to worry about your dad or Officer Rhodes coming around here.”

“Hope not,” Lissa said in a hushed voice.

I tapped on the door.

“Wilkom, Merry,” Rachel’s grandfather greeted me. He smiled, nodding politely to Lissa as we walked inside.

A gas lamp hung over the kitchen table to the right of the living room. It was set up much like a smaller version of the main house where Rachel and her large family lived. A pair of wrinkled faces smiled as I introduced Lissa to Rachel’s grandparents.

“Let me show you where you will sleep.” The stout Amish grandmother wore a long gray dress with a black apron attached and a white head covering. She led the way through the living room with a large kerosene lantern just like Rachel’s.

The spacious spare bedroom was sparsely furnished with a double bed, a dresser, and a cane-back chair. I noticed a hand mirror on the dresser on top of a white crocheted doily.

“We hope you will be comfortable here,” the white-haired woman said cheerfully. And by that I knew Rachel had filled her grandparents in on our conversation.

“Thank you,” Lissa said. “Thank you
very
much!”

After the woman left, Lissa slipped off the Amish bonnet and looked around cautiously. “You’re sure it’s okay for me to be here?”

“Rachel said so, and she never lies.” I wished I could say the same thing about myself. Up until this situation with Lissa, I’d been a totally honest person.

“They sure don’t have much furniture,” Lissa commented, heading for the bed with its solid maple headboard. Gingerly, she sat down.

I took off my jacket and dropped my gym bag on the floor, sitting beside her. “The Amish live super simple lives. Look at this,” I said, reaching for the thick handmade afghan at the bottom of the bed. I traced the intricate patterns as Lissa commented about the hardwood floor.