get me the note to examine and put on file. As spacey as Victoria Keller was, I repeat, it probably means nothing. Meanwhile, you have my permission to talk to the two women who were watching Victoria, though one of the caretakers just moved out of the area. ’Cause with Victoria’s medical history, far as I’m concerned, this case is closed. But you let me know what you find out. Connor Stark’s not one to be crossed, and I had to come down hard on him not to press charges of negligence against the two women. As it is, he refused to give them their last month’s paychecks.”
Ray-Lynn gave a loud snort. “Our rich/cheap, kind/cruel new mayor,” she muttered.
“Now, Ray-Lynn,” the sheriff scolded, but his voice was gentle. “So here—” he reached for a pen and paper on the corner of the desk “—are the two women’s names and the one’s address I can recall offhand because the other one lives up near Cleveland. They’re both members of other Amish churches—not yours. But you keep things low-key with them, okay?”
“Low-key, ya,” Lydia promised, gripping her hands in her lap so hard her fingers went numb.
But how could something so momentous in her life be “low” anything? As for a key, since she wasn’t exactly sure what he meant, this just might be the key to answering questions about her past—and her future.
6
Even though Lydia stayed later than usual at the furniture store that same day, she lit out in her buggy just before Daad and Gid closed up the place. She hurried home and unhitched her horse, Flower. Relieved Mamm was still taking her nap, Lydia grabbed the precious note from under her bed, snatched a container to protect it and walked down to the road to wait for Ray-Lynn to pick her up.
Their cover story was that Lydia was going with her to Josh’s to help her place an order for manger animals for the Homestead Community Church Christmas tableau. Actually, Lydia was to give her the note so it could be delivered to the sheriff. She also planned to feed the camels while Ray-Lynn and Josh sealed the deal. Like most Amish, Josh never worked with contracts but believed in a handshake and trust, even though he did take careful notes about what animals would be delivered where and when by him and his Englische driver, Hank.
“Here it is,” Lydia told Ray-Lynn as she climbed into her van. “I sealed the note in a Tupperware sandwich box to keep it safe.”
“Good. Just slide it under your seat, and I’ll be sure my man gets it. Speaking of which, you and Josh are pretty good friends, right?”
“Well, we’ve known each other for years,” Lydia said, fumbling for words, realizing she was talking in almost as slow a drawl as Ray-Lynn used. Why didn’t she just spit it out? She cared about him more than he did her. At least the drive to Josh’s was about one minute long, so she didn’t have time to explain—and explain what, she wasn’t even sure.
“Oh, look!” Ray-Lynn cried, pointing. “Wonder who that is. A long-lost friend of Josh’s, for sure.”
Lydia’s gaze followed her friend’s finger. Not by the barn but over on his front porch, Josh was hugging a woman with long auburn hair. And she was sure hugging him back. She wore a short denim skirt, boots and red jacket and, despite the cold wind, looked pretty warm—hot, like worldly folks said. Lydia couldn’t see her face but the rest of her looked pretty good.
Then she realized who it was. Sandra Myerson was here.
“I think that’s an old friend of his from Columbus,” she told Ray-Lynn, trying not to gawk. And here she’d blown up the importance of her and Josh’s hug in the barn last Saturday night. It hadn’t been like that long, hard hug with Sandra at all. It had meant so much to her but to him...
“Quite a flashy car, too,” Ray-Lynn said as she pulled up by the barn and stopped in one of the two parking spots next to the hitching post for buggies.
Lydia darted another glance at Josh. The hug was over, and she’d hardly noticed the low, small red car parked in his driveway. Oh, now he was taking Sandra—if that’s who it was—into his house.
“Well, if he’s preoccupied, I can’t wait around,” Ray-Lynn said, hitting her fist on the steering wheel. “Listen, Lydia, hugs and kissy face are common in the world, so don’t let all that get to you.”
“Get to me? I’m glad she’s here as she knows how to trace family trees, and that’s what I hope to do.”
“Oh, you know her. Ding-dang, you’ve got to forgive me for jumping to conclusions. Jack says it’s my weakness, but I know it’s only one of them. By the way, Josh did wave to acknowledge he saw us, or maybe he recognized my van. Can I drop you back at home or are you staying?”
“I came to take care of the camels,” she told Ray-Lynn with a forced smile. “I’ll just go in the barn and maybe meet her later, as I’ve only heard about her so far.”
“Will you tell Josh for me that the Community Church would like to rent a manger scene? One camel, one donkey and a couple of sheep for Wednesday, December 12, in the evening, like six to nine? We intend to really kick off the Christmas season for the area.”
“Sure, I’ll tell him. That early and the middle of the week, it will probably be fine. I’ll bring you a list of the prices next time I see you. Ray-Lynn, danki and thanks, both!”
As Lydia started to get out of the car, Ray-Lynn grabbed her arm. “If you need to talk to someone who cares, you come see me.”
“I will,” she promised. As she got out of the van, she glimpsed the pale green plastic sandwich box with the note in it sticking out from under the seat. She hated to give the note up but she was getting much in return. The sheriff, maybe thanks to Ray-Lynn, wasn’t angry with her. He had given her the names of Anna Gingerich, who lived about twenty miles away, and Sarah Miller, who lived up near Cleveland. So there was a place to start, a trail to follow, people to question. Now, if only Sandra Myerson could help her out without trying to get Josh back—because, of course, she must have been in love with him.
With a wave at Ray-Lynn, Lydia hurried into and through the barn, greeting animals by name, petting her favorites among the donkeys who pushed against their bars to get their ears scratched and a dried apple to eat from the bin. “Melly, Balty, all of you are expected to be on your best behavior today,” she told the six camels as they swung their curved, shaggy necks over the railings to greet her with fluttery, fat-lipped air kisses.
“Hugs and kissy face!” she told her avid furry listeners. “What do we care about all that in the big, bad world, right?”
Since she had left the donkeys with only one apple apiece, they brayed in protest, and the sheep murmured their baa-baas.
Lydia wrote Ray-Lynn’s requests on a piece of paper on Josh’s barn desk—long oak boards on barrels—then turned toward the camels just as the back door opened and Josh stood there. Hatless, his hair blew free in the wind. Vital and strong, with the crisp blue, winter sky behind him highlighting the color of his eyes, he seemed to fill and warm the large door frame.
“Lydia, glad you’re here. As you may have seen, Sandra’s here from Columbus, wants to stay a day or two—that is, at the Plain and Fancy B and B in town. She’d rather not come out to the animal barn, but can you come in the house? She’s pretty excited to meet you and exchange some genealogical help for info on Amish Christmas, if you’re still willing.”
Oh, ya, Lydia thought, she was still willing, despite the fact Josh’s face looked much more flushed than the winter wind usually made it.
* * *
Up close, Sandra Myerson was very pretty with auburn, arched eyebrows and full lips that smiled easily to display snow-white teeth. Her expressions came quickly and were full of emotion and life. She shook Lydia’s hand, then pressed it between both of hers. Her brown eyes were alert and sharp and warmed when she looked at Josh. Lydia tried not to take that all in and instead managed glances at Josh’s living room.
She