Simple Deceit (The Harmony Series 2) (2 page)

I felt myself bristle at his
little lady
comment. “As a matter of fact, I do,” I retorted. “His name is Patrick Taylor.”

“And have you ever met Sheriff Taylor?” The officer’s voice dropped an octave and his frown intensified.

I don’t know what made me glance at his badge, which was partially hidden by his jacket, but something inside me knew. It was a sinking feeling followed quickly by a wave of nausea. The name on his badge was Taylor, and for the first time I realized he wasn’t with the police. He was with the sheriff’s department. “N–no, I never met him in person. After Abel Mueller called him, the FBI took over the case. I dealt with them directly.”

A grin spread across the man’s face that could only be described as evil.

“Y–you’re Sheriff Taylor, aren’t you?”

The sheriff spat on the ground and slowly put his notepad in
his pocket. “I’m lettin’ you off with a warning, little lady, but you’d better have that light fixed right away. If I see you again and it’s not workin’, even your little Mennonite friends won’t be able to save you.”

I put my hand over my eyes in an attempt to shield them from the sun and gazed up at him. Was he serious? I remembered something someone had said once about Pat Taylor—that he had a bad attitude toward the residents of Harmony. That he thought they were all a bunch of religious zealots.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean, Sheriff. I assure you that I can take care of my own problems. Thank you for the warning. I will make sure the light is fixed as soon as possible.”

Sheriff Taylor glowered at me for a few more moments. From what I could see of his expression, my assurances to take care of my taillight hadn’t endeared me to the ill-tempered law officer one little bit. “Be sure you do,” he said finally. “I’ll be keeping my eye on you. That uncle of yours tried to subvert the law.” He leaned down until his face was just inches from mine. “Blood ties are strong, Miss Temple. Stronger than you could ever imagine. Don’t you forget it.”

With that, he turned on his heels and strode back to his patrol car. I sat there with my mouth hanging open. He was already inside his vehicle by the time I could come up with a response to his outrageous statement. But as his odd comment rolled through my mind, I had the strange feeling that Pat Taylor had known who I was from the first moment he pulled me over. I found the idea unsettling.

I waited a couple of minutes, hoping he would leave first, but his cruiser didn’t move. Finally I put my car into gear and pulled back out onto the highway. The sheriff’s car slid right into line behind mine. I kept my speed low, hoping he would pass me, but he kept a steady distance between us. I had at least thirty miles
to go before I reached the turnoff to Harmony. Surely he wasn’t going to follow me all that way. I slid my favorite Rich Mullins CD into the player. His music always calms me, and I needed that now. I tried to concentrate on the words and forget that I was being tailed by the sheriff from you-know-where.

As Rich began to sing about another hour in the night and a mile farther down the road, I could feel the tension leaving my body. I was so into the song that I forgot all about my new law enforcement buddy. When I finally checked my rearview mirror again, he was gone.

A few minutes later, I spotted the road to Harmony. The sun had set behind the trees, so I could finally see my way clearly. I looked at the clock on my dashboard. Almost six forty-five. I’d planned to be at Sam’s by six thirty for supper. Myrtle Goodrich, his rather persnickety aunt whom everyone called “Sweetie,” had to be fuming. It would take another forty-five minutes at least for me to get there. Unfortunately, I couldn’t blame everything on my impromptu visit with Sheriff Taylor. I’d left town later than I’d meant to.

I slowed down some and fished my cell phone out of my purse. Once I reached Harmony, it was virtually useless. But maybe I could get Sam while I was still a good distance away. I punched in his telephone number and was gratified to hear ringing.

“Hello!’ a voice screeched through my small phone. “Is that you, Gracie Temple? Where in tarnation are you? My meat loaf is gonna dry up and turn to dust if you don’t get here pretty soon.”

“Sweetie, how did you know it was me? What if you’d just yelled at some innocent person?”

“Pshaw. Ain’t no one else missin’ right now. You’re the only one would be callin’ me right at suppertime. No one else in this town, specially someone I’d call a friend, would take a chance on rilin’ me up like that.”

She was probably right. “I’m sorry, but I’m going to be late. It’ll be another hour, maybe a little less, before I get to town. You and Sam go ahead and eat. If there’s anything left, you can warm it up when I get there.”

Sweetie’s voice softened just a little. “Nah, I’ll just spoon some juice over it. Me and Sam would rather wait for you, Gracie. Been kind of lonely here without you.”

“I missed you, too, Sweetie. Is Sam nearby?”

“Sam!” She yelled so loud I almost dropped the phone.

After some odd crackling noises and a thud, I heard Sam’s voice. “Where are you, Grace? I’ve been sitting on the porch watching for your car, and I’m slowly freezing to death.”

I explained my late departure from Wichita and briefly described my meeting with the Morris County sheriff. “I’ll tell you more about it when I get there,” I said. “I don’t like talking on my cell phone while I’m driving.”

Sam’s warm chuckle drifted through the phone. “You’re on the county road leading to Harmony, Grace. Do you see another car anywhere?”

I had to admit that I seemed to be completely alone. “I know, but I just feel uncomfortable when I’m not focused on my driving the way I should be. I guess it’s not such a big deal right now, though.”

He sighed. “Boy, I’ve missed you. I can’t believe it took so long to get everything tied up in Wichita.”

“I know. Between my landlord and Grant, I wondered if I’d ever get out of there. But the lease is settled, and I got my deposit back even though they tried to keep half of it.”

“Half? Why?”

“Because Snickle tore up part of the carpet with his claws.”

“But Snickle is declawed.”

I snorted. “Yeah, that kind of took the wind out of their
argument, and they forked everything over.”

Sam laughed. “Glad that’s behind us. But what about Grant? What if he fires this second guy? Will he expect you to go back and train a third designer?”

My old boss, Grant Hampton at Grantham Design, was having a tough time replacing me. After spending almost a month in Wichita training his first pick, I’d been persuaded to come back and work with the second. Since I really needed the freelancing work he’d promised me, I was kind of between a rock and a hard place.

“He promised I wouldn’t have to teach my job to anyone else. I think we’re safe for a while. Four trips to Wichita in the past six months is more than enough.”

“I can hardly wait for you to get here, Grace. To be home for good.”

Home for good.
Those words were music to my ears. “Hey, I’m working on a project that I can’t wait to tell you about. Believe it or not, I think it will actually help Harmony.”

“That sounds great, but right now all I want to do is put my arms around you and hold on for the rest of our lives.”

I couldn’t respond for a moment. My heart felt like it had lodged in my throat. “Hey, I’m going to hang up now,” I finally croaked out. “I’ll see you in a little while.”

“I love you, Grace.”

“I love you, too, Sam. Bye.”

I clicked off the phone and dropped it into my purse. Then I settled back in my seat and clicked the CD to Rich’s song about Kansas. As he sang about the prairies calling out God’s name and our sunsets resembling a sky set ablaze with fire, I watched the incredible countryside pass by me, perfectly portrayed in his lyrics. I’d always thought of myself as a city girl, but the last few months had shown me that I belonged out here where God’s
creation outshines anything man can possibly fashion. Gratitude for His awesome power and tender provision overwhelmed me, and a tear slid down my cheek. I whispered a prayer of thanks. “You led me to Harmony, Father. And I found my life there. I’m so thankful….”

I wiped my face with my sleeve and checked the mirror to make sure my mascara hadn’t run. I didn’t wear much, but I had no intention of seeing Sam for the first time in months looking like a raccoon.

Rich had just started to sing the first song again and Snickle was beginning to let me know he was ready for freedom when I pulled into Harmony. I slowed down because of slick spots on the road that led through the center of town. A recent ice storm had left its mark. Sam had explained to me that while most small towns had the resources to clear their main streets, there were no funds for that kind of thing here. For the most part, residents just waited until the ice melted. The Bruners, who run the local feed store, donate coarse salt that clears off the wooden boardwalks, but there’s not much they can do about the streets. Snow can be scooped up with plows, but ice is another matter.

The sun had set, and the old-fashioned streetlights had flickered on, lighting up the wooden boardwalks and all the interesting buildings that sat side by side, no two structures alike. Each business had its own personality—and paint color. Harmony was certainly colorful—literally and figuratively. I loved its quaint style and unique presence.

No one was in sight, although I could see cars parked in front of Mary’s Kitchen, the only restaurant in town. I’d heard about small towns that figuratively roll up their sidewalks after dark. Harmony certainly fit the bill. Most of the population consisted of Conservative Mennonite families who spent their evenings at home. Children did not run wild and parents did not carouse.

Family time was sacred, and evenings were spent having dinner, doing homework, and reading the Bible before early bedtimes. A good way to live, in my opinion, even though I actually enjoy staying up late. I love the peaceful quiet of the country and like to spend time sitting out on my front porch at night, watching the sky become christened with God’s flickering jewels. There would be none of that tonight, though, and perhaps the rest of the winter. I had no intention of having someone find me frozen solid to my wooden rocking chair.

I passed the old cemetery where my uncle Benjamin was buried and had just driven past the huge Bethel Mennonite Church building on the edge of town when I noticed something in my rearview mirror. A figure stood near the front door of the church, holding a large object. I pulled over to get a better look. All the inside lights were off in the church except for the pastor’s office. Sure enough, Abel’s dark blue car with its black-painted bumpers sat off to the side of the building. The frigid temperature caused me concern. Was it Emily, Abel’s wife, trying to get inside? Had she been locked out?

I turned the car around while trying to calm Snickle and drove back. I pulled into the circular drive in front of the building. My headlights shone on a figure in a dark cloak, her hood hanging over her face. The woman seemed startled to see my car and froze for several seconds while I drove up closer. Just as I opened my car door, she set her package down and backed slowly down the steps. A strange, plaintive wail rose through the quiet Harmony evening. I ran up next to a large basket and pulled back the thick blanket on top. A tiny baby reached out its little fingers toward me.

“Hey,” I yelled to the woman who watched me from the driveway. “What are you doing? This—this is a baby!”

With that, she spun around and began to run toward the thick grove of trees that lined the edge of the church’s property. Not
knowing what else to do, I pounded on the church door as loudly as I could and then took off after her. Unfortunately, the grass was slick with ice that had melted and refrozen. Although it impeded my progress, it also caused the woman her own problems. A few yards before the tree line, I reached out and grabbed her cloak. She spun toward me as I tried to secure her with my other hand. Suddenly pain exploded in my head and everything went black.

G
racie, can you hear me?”

I slowly opened my eyes. “Please. Get that light out of my face.” My voice sounded far away. “Wow. My head hurts. What happened?”

“You knocked yourself out.” I’d recognized the first voice as Abel’s, but this was someone else. I squinted through the throbbing and discovered John Keystone leaning over me. He flicked a small flashlight back into my eyes and caused an explosion of pain to shoot through my head.

“Would you stop doing that?” I pleaded. “It isn’t helping.” I glanced around the room and realized I was in the pastor’s office.

“I carried you in here,” Abel said gently. “I heard a commotion outside, and when I got to the door, I found…”

“A baby?” I finished.

“Yes, a baby.” He stepped closer and frowned down at me. “What do you have to do with this, Gracie? Did you see who put this child near the door?”

I struggled to sit up over the protestations of both men. “Hey, I just got hit on the head. It’s still attached. I’m all right.” I shook
my head slowly at Abel so as not to cause myself further agony. “I saw a woman put the basket there, but then she ran away. I was trying to catch her when she clobbered me.”

“I don’t think she actually hit you,” Abel said, handing me a glass of water, which I gratefully took. “I think you slipped on the ice and hit your head on the ground.”

I rubbed my offended noggin. “Well, maybe so. I didn’t see her slug me, and we both fell when I grabbed her.” I looked up at Abel with one eye closed. “I don’t suppose you saw her, did you?”

“I’m sorry, Gracie. I didn’t. She was gone by the time I reached you. Did you recognize her?”

“No. She was wearing a long dark cloak, you know, like the one Ida wears. She had the hood pulled over her face.”

John wiped the side of my face with a warm, wet cloth. There was dirt and dried grass on the fabric when he took it away. “I hope you’re not telling us that the baby is Ida’s,” he said with a grin. “She’s in her eighties or nineties, isn’t she?”