A Perfect Square (19 page)

Read A Perfect Square Online

Authors: Vannetta Chapman

BOOK: A Perfect Square
11.06Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
Chapter 24

C
ALLIE LOOKED OUT
over the snow-covered mountain and understood instantly they were in trouble.

She glanced to her right and saw a sign with the familiar black diamond shape. Dread filled her stomach, and her pulse began to jump. She had skied green circle slopes and a few blue squares, but she’d never tried a black diamond, and she hadn’t skied at all since right after college. Once she’d begun working as a pharmaceutical rep, there hadn’t been time for vacations. She’d wondered when she was moving to Indiana if there were any ski resorts in the area. Apparently she’d found one.

But where was she?

This black diamond slope was steep and difficult. She glanced behind her again, trying to remember exactly what mountain she was on, and that was when she saw Deborah, Esther, and Melinda.

They, too, wore snow skis and had on ski jackets. Though they had goggles on to protect their eyes against the glare of the setting western sun, they still wore their prayer
kapps.
Callie wondered if the
kapps
would blow off when they started down the slope, but then she realized they had bigger problems. All three of her friends still wore their long dresses beneath their jackets.

This was going to be impossible.

They had to find a way off the mountain though, and quickly. The sun was beginning to drop, casting shadows from the woods that bordered both the eastern and western edge of the ski run. It would be dark soon. They didn’t want to ski down in the dark.

Looking overhead Callie caught sight of the ski lifts — the last gondola was barely a dot in the distance. She turned and looked back down the trail again. Now the wind was picking up, throwing snow across the trail and into the trees.

Her three friends scooted forward on their skis, using their poles to carefully navigate through the snow. Callie tried to throw out her arms like her mother used to do in the car when she had to stop suddenly. Callie was certain someone was going to topple over the crest of the hill, and then there would be no stopping them. It was a straight shot down.

But how else would they get home?

Movement in the trees caught Callie’s attention. She turned to look at the exact moment a man stepped out. He wasn’t wearing skis or glasses, which is how she recognized Shane Black.

Her temper flared instantly. She could feel the heat of it even in the cold, but she couldn’t remember why she was angry with him.

He motioned them toward the tree line, toward a trail that she could now see snaking off into the woods.

Callie shook her head, refusing to move, and looked back down at the black diamond slope.

Shane was walking toward them now, yelling something and gesturing toward the woods. Callie didn’t want to go even though she knew it was the right choice, and she knew choosing the slope because he angered her was immature, even dangerous.

She examined the course in front of her, saw that the front half of her skis were hanging over the edge, hanging in the air. All she had to do was lean over.

Except she’d never skied a black diamond before.

Suddenly the horizon tilted. Callie was a child again, running in circles to make the world spin, and spin it did, crazily whirling in a blur of images as the abyss below her opened up, and she began to fall.

Shane pulled her back, his hands on her arms, steadying her and dragging her away from the edge.

Callie looked for Deborah, Esther, and Melinda, but they were already in the woods, standing there waiting with all of their children — nine in all. How would they make it back to the lodge with all the children? They couldn’t possibly carry that many.

Then she saw Max. He barked at her, and Callie knew it was the right thing to go on the trail, to go with Shane.

Except his barking was off. As she skied toward the edge of the woods, skied closer to Max — though it seemed to take many long strides and her legs became terribly heavy — she realized his barking sounded more like a ring.

It was so funny that baby Joshua started clapping his hands.

Callie finally reached the group and bent down to scratch Max behind the ears, to assure him everything would be all right. She thought to quiet his ringing bark, but then she was on the edge of the slope again, and this time she was falling forward …

Callie nearly fell out of bed, catching herself with the blankets tangled around her legs and grasping for Max, who was barking at a fever pitch.

“It’s all right, boy.”

She reached for her alarm to shut it off, but tapping the top button repeatedly did not stop the noise. Peering at the numbers, she finally understood why. “Five a.m.? You must be kidding.”

Then she thought of Deborah and Esther and Reuben sitting in the jail. She jerked her cell phone off the nightstand where she set it to charge each night without looking at the display.

“Hello?”

“Morning, gorgeous. We need to talk.”

“Trent. It’s five o’clock. That’s still night. Call me back when the store opens.”

“I have your information — about the cell phone.”

Callie had crawled back under the covers dragging the phone with her, burrowing deep down so that even her head was beneath the quilt. When she heard his words though, she immediately popped back out. “What?”

“Took me longer than I thought it would. Had to ask for the help of some … outside sources.”

Throwing back the covers, Callie reached for her robe. “So tell me. What did you find out?”

“I’ll be there in five minutes.”

Callie had just enough time to grab her robe and house shoes, run a comb through her hair and brush away her night breath — though she didn’t understand why she should care about the last two. She hated to admit it, but she was still off-kilter by the dream, something about skiing and the girls and Shane Black. The whole thing was upsetting, and the idea that a dream could upset her was even more disturbing.

When Trent still wasn’t there, she threw a coat on and hurried Max outside for a quick morning trip to the garden. They were on their way back in when Trent drove up in his old truck.

Callie glowered at him — for making her wait since Saturday, for pulling her out of bed early, for being male. But then he held up a to-go container with two cups of coffee and rattled a paper bag from The Kaffi Shop.

“Margie sent your usual.”

Callie’s glower softened, and she motioned Trent inside.

Callie sat behind the counter and Trent stood. He looked disgustingly fresh for a man who had been up all night, which was obvious from the fact that he hadn’t shaved, his clothes were rumpled,
and he was more hyper than Max on a bird hunt. How much coffee had he had?

“I was able to track the SIM card. The phone was purchased at a drugstore in LaGrange.”

“You’re sure?”

“Sure I’m sure.”

“What else?” Callie sipped the coffee, feeling the first hit of caffeine.

“The message was from a man saying that a job was available. Sounded like he was at a factory. You can hear machinery in the background. I called the number, and it was a cell phone with a computerized message. The person never called me back. When I traced that number, it was another disposable, which makes me think it was another Amish person.”

“Why would you think that?”

“They don’t normally sign up for a monthly plan.”

“That’s not true, Trent. Quite a few Amish people conduct businesses, and the bishop has allowed them use of cell phones. In those cases, I’m sure they do have a monthly plan.”

“All right, but if they’re one of these kids who are sneaking around, then they buy it off the rack and maybe they add some minutes to it.”

Callie bit into her muffin and nodded. Deborah had said the same thing to her. Often kids going through their
rumspringa
would have a cell phone their parents didn’t know about. They’d bring them into town and charge them at their job or maybe at a restaurant or fast-food place while they were eating.

“So you think the other phone might have been a disposable, but you have no proof of that. What else?”

“Like I said, the guy never returned my call, and the disposable number isn’t listed to anyone. All cell phones are listed.”

“Mine’s not. My business number is, but I prefer to have my cell phone number unlisted.”

“It’s not listed to the public, gorgeous. I have a different database.”

She wasn’t awake enough to digest his arrogance, not this early. “Trent, I don’t believe you. That sounds like undercover stuff, and you’re a reporter, not a cop.”

“Believe what you want. We have to have our sources too, or we’d never find out enough to fill a paper. Anyway, the reason I’m telling you this is to explain why I brought in my source.”

Callie pushed away the last half of her muffin, suddenly no longer hungry. “I should have never given you the phone. I still haven’t heard back from Adalyn, but I’m sure we shouldn’t be sharing possible evidence with every newsman in your iPhone.”

“She works at the phone company, and now I owe her dinner in South Bend. Trust me. This information is good.”

“Was dinner with you a reward or are you punishing the poor woman?” He was worse than arrogant when he was tired. He was also egotistical.

“Gorgeous, this one has been calling me for weeks, but let’s try to stay focused on what she told me about the phone.”

“I don’t think I want to hear any more.” Callie turned her back toward him and opened the cash register, checked to see if she would need any more bills or change in the drawer before she opened the shop for the day.

“She happened to be doing random audits last night and guess what she came across?”

“Ones look good. I’m a little low on fives.”

“She came across our mystery phone’s call. She thought it odd, because there’d only been one call made and one call received on the phone since it was purchased — both to the same place.”

“And now I’m counting change.”

“Don’t you want to know where?”

Callie stopped counting and clapped her hands over her ears. Trent picked up a pen and wrote across the top sheet of her sales
flyer in giant letters:
RV factory, north of Shipshe.
Then he turned and walked out of her shop.

Callie stared at the words for thirty seconds, then ran after him, her robe flying behind her like a cape in the predawn light.

“Give it back. You have to give me that phone back.”

Trent was already opening the door of his truck.

“What if someone in that factory can clear Reuben? We have to take it to Gavin or Black or someone.”

“You must be kidding. I’m not done. I can probably crack this case.”

“Stop it! You’re not the detective. You’re the newsman. Now give it back.” She walked around his truck and closed in on him.

Smiling just enough to make him look like something out of a Clint Eastwood movie, Trent reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the phone, but he held it out of her reach.

Instead of grabbing for it, she stomped on his foot.

“Hey!” He jerked his foot up, and his hands came down.

Callie began prying his fingers away from the phone. “I want it back right now — or I’m going to report a theft.”

“Fine.” He dropped it into her hands as he rubbed his foot. “You don’t have to become violent.”

“And you don’t have to be such a jerk.” She turned and stormed back toward her shop. “You don’t have to always put your headlines above our friends. The way we handle this could have an effect on the outcome of Reuben’s trial. You do realize that, right?”

When Trent only shrugged, she shook her head, slipped the phone into the pocket of her robe and turned back toward her shop.

“You forgot to thank me,” he called after her. “By the way, nice jammies.”

But she barely heard him. She was trying to decide who she should call first — Gavin, Black, or her attorney.

Deborah woke the next day feeling tired, but clearer minded about what she needed to do.

She’d been thrown off her mission by that evil mischief-maker:
doubt.
Not to mention the days on the calendar were slipping by. Esther’s wedding was in forty-eight hours. Deborah wanted to give her friend the gift of peace — the gift of knowing her life could go on in a normal fashion. The best way to do that was to prove Reuben’s innocence.

Which meant returning to her list.

Fortunately Joshua seemed better after his rough night. She did stop the twins before they headed off to school. “I want to apologize to you about last night. It’s true I don’t want pigs living outside my backdoor, but I lost my temper a bit, and I’m sorry.”

“That’s all right,
Mamm.
” Jacob tugged on his woolen cap. “We’re going to ask our teacher about it today.”


Ya
. Maybe we can train them back into a pigpen.” Joseph gave her a crooked smile, looking so much like Jonas that it felt as if a hand were pressing on Deborah’s heart. Some of her fear from the night before pushed on the corner of her mind, but she refused to acknowledge it, kissing both the boys instead, and reminding them to wear their jackets. “It’s supposed to grow colder today. You’ll need them.”

Martha and Mary were already out the door and the boys ran to catch up, their lunch boxes banging at their sides.

“Just you and me, kid.” Joshua smacked the cold teething ring she’d given him against the tray of his high chair. His nose was still running, but he seemed to feel better. Well enough that he wouldn’t mind going to town, but first Deborah needed to clean up this kitchen and prepare dinner. She had a long day ahead, and she knew she’d be arriving home at the same time everyone else was hungry.

Before she left, she pulled out the list of possible motives for Reuben’s silence and scanned it one more time.

“One: money.”

“Two: love. Romantic.”

“Three: love. For family or freinden.”

“Four:
Ordnung
.”

Taking her pen, she crossed out the second and third items. According to his mother, Reuben had said he’d find the right girl when it was time. She knew he wouldn’t lie to Abigail. He might not introduce a new love to his family until he was sure the timing was good, but he wouldn’t lie about her. And the girl was definitely not family.

Other books

Bad Boys of Romance - a Biker Anthology by Kasey Millstead, Abigail Lee, Shantel Tessier, Vicki Green, Rebecca Brooke, Nina Levine, Morgan Jane Mitchell, Casey Peeler, Dee Avila
Come Get Me by Michael Hunter
Ask the Right Question by Michael Z. Lewin
Los Angeles by Peter Moore Smith
Sharing Freedom by Harley McRide
The Great Airport Mystery by Franklin W. Dixon