Dark Crossings (15 page)

She nodded. There would be many in Springville who would want
to pay their respects.

Leo started out the door, then turned back again. “I nearly
forgot. I’m making arrangements for Donald McKay, the antiques dealer, to
evaluate items from the house. I’ll let you know when he’s coming, since someone
else should be with him as he’s doing the valuing.”

She nodded again. Perhaps Mr. McKay had repeated his offer of
help to Leo.

“Oh, and Maude Stevens has been agitating about the contents of
the will.” He looked faintly hunted. “If she should come here, don’t let her
have access to the house without me. The historical society will simply have to
wait its turn.” He gave a faint smile. “You’d think historians would be patient
by nature, wouldn’t you? Lock up behind me.”

Smiling at his comment, Sarah snapped the dead bolt. It was far
better that Leo deal with Mrs. Stevens, if necessary.

CHAPTER EIGHT

A
S
SHE
TRIED
TO
GET
BACK
to sorting and
boxing that afternoon, Sarah found that Leo’s comments about the accident had
brought it back to mind a bit too vividly. Those moments when she’d known they
were going to crash, the sensation of flying through the air—that should be what
sent remembered fear shivering down her spine.

But it wasn’t. The vivid, terrifying moments that wouldn’t let
go were those she’d spent frantically searching for Jacob, fearing she would
find him lying on the road, looking the way Mr. Strickland had when she’d found
him.

She tried to shake the feeling off, but couldn’t. Maybe Jacob
had felt the same thing when he’d tried to find her. Maybe… Her thoughts jumped
ahead to the kiss. Perhaps that kiss had just been an expression of relief that
they were both still alive. If so, the best way to handle the situation was to
ignore it.

That explanation should make her happy, but for some reason it
didn’t.

The cuckoo clock on the study wall sounded, reminding her that
it was time to quit for the day. She began stacking the photo albums in a box,
along with the loose photos. The pictures must have been important to Mr.
Strickland. He’d made notes on the backs of many of them, identifying people and
places. Quickly, she stacked them in the box to be looked at later. Her hand
paused on the album she’d seen first, the one with the picnic scene. Surely
someone would want to keep that one, at least. She flipped open the album.

The picture wasn’t there. She stared blankly at a photo of a
school group: children lined up in front of the old elementary school, a teacher
in a long skirt standing at the end of the row. Sarah turned the page, then went
back again. She must be mistaken. The picnic photo had to be in another
album.

She ran her finger along the inside binding, feeling the rough
edges of a page that had been torn out. Her stomach seemed to twist. Maybe this
was
a different album. Maybe the page had been
ripped out years ago. Maybe. But she didn’t think so.

Mamm
would be waiting at Aunt
Mary’s, wondering why she wasn’t there yet. Sarah clutched the album. Was she
really sure this was the same one? But how could anyone get in the house to tear
out the page? And why?

She must be wrong. There was no time to go through all the
albums again, searching for the missing picture. She could do that tomorrow. If
the photo really wasn’t there, Leo would have to be told.

Sarah hurried downstairs and double-checked the locks on the
front and back doors. All was secure, so she scurried out the side door, locking
it with the key.

She’d gone nearly a block before she realized she’d left her
jacket behind, and would need it in the morning. Shaking her head, she turned
back. One of her
grossmamm’
s favorite sayings
slipped into her mind.
If you don’t use your head, you’ll
have to use your feet.
Grossmamm
had been wonderful
gut
at having a saying for every event.

Sarah let herself in the side door quietly. The house was as
she’d left it just moments before, and there was no reason to stop and listen as
she reached for her jacket. No reason, but she did it anyway.

Quiet, of course. Nothing was out of place—

Her thoughts skittered to a halt when something creaked
overhead.

She froze, her hand pressed to her lips to keep any sound from
escaping. One breath, two—and then she heard the creak again and recognized what
it was. Someone had stepped on the old floorboards at the top of the stairs.

She should do something. If she went to the phone, the person
upstairs would hear her. Better to slip quietly back out, run to the
neighbor…

Footsteps sounded openly in the upstairs hall. Sarah’s fear
eased, and she felt suddenly foolish. Surely someone who shouldn’t be in the
house wouldn’t walk around so casually. It must be Leo, of course. He’d said he
would try to come back this afternoon.

Since he was upstairs already, she might as well show him the
album. Once she’d turned that question over to him, she wouldn’t have to fret
about it.

The back stairs leading up from the kitchen were closest. Sarah
opened the door and hurried up, calling Leo’s name as she reached the top and
grasped the doorknob. “Leo? I’m glad I caught you.” She turned the knob, pushing
the door open. “I wanted—”

Something slammed against the door on the other side, forcing
it shut. The movement sent her staggering backward. Unable to stop, she lost her
balance and plunged down the stairs, arms flailing. Helpless, out of control,
she was falling.

Her hand struck the railing and she grabbed it, arm twisting as
it took the full weight of her body. Ignoring the pain, she held on tight,
getting her feet beneath her, while her heart thudded so loudly she couldn’t
hear anything else.

She pressed her palm against her chest. She had to listen, had
to think. Someone had slammed the door shut so she wouldn’t see him or her. Had
the person intended to make her fall?

She tensed in fear. Footsteps were heading quickly toward the
front stairs. Maybe the person intended to slip out that way before Sarah could
see who it was. Or maybe he or she was coming back, expecting to find her
crumpled at the bottom of the staircase.

That possibility galvanized her into action. She had to get out
of the house. Find help, call Leo or the police. And quickly.

Hanging on to the railing, she slithered down the rest of the
steps, paused for a moment and then eased the door open at the bottom of the
stairs. She listened intently, but couldn’t hear anything. Maybe the person was
already out of the house. Or maybe he was around the corner, waiting for
her.

But she couldn’t stay here, afraid to move, waiting for someone
to come after her….

Murmuring a silent prayer, she dashed across the kitchen, down
the hallway and out the house.

* * *

T
HERE
WAS
REALLY
no good reason for Jacob to drive past the
Strickland house on his way back from the hardware store. No reason, but he was
doing it anyway.

Probably Sarah’s mother would have picked her up by now. They’d
be home ahead of him. Still, no reason why he shouldn’t go this way.

He drew even with the house and knew the instinct that had sent
him this way had been accurate. Both Leo Frost’s car and the police car were
drawn up by the side gate.

Heart pounding, he guided Bess to the verge and jumped down,
running toward the side door.

He bolted into the house and followed the sound of voices to
the kitchen. Sarah sat in a chair, with Leo and Chief Byler on either side of
her. They all looked up at him.

He had eyes only for Sarah. “Are you all right? What happened?”
He went to her, kneeling next to the chair. She seemed unhurt, but…

“I’m all right, Jacob. Truly. I…” She glanced at Leo, as if
asking his permission. “I heard someone in the house.”

He could tell by the strain in her face that she wasn’t telling
him everything. “Did he hurt you? Frighten you?”

She shook her head and then bit her lower lip. “
Ja,
frightened, maybe. I took a tumble down a couple
of steps, but I didn’t get hurt.”

“Then why did you wince when I touched your hand?” He put his
fingers lightly on her wrist, afraid to do more. “You should see a doctor.”

“
Ach,
no, I’ve had worse helping
Daad
with the horses.” She smiled, but her eyes
were grave. “My arm twisted, is all. From when I caught myself.”

“Sarah heard someone upstairs and thought it was me.” Leo
seemed to feel that a fuller explanation was needed. “She went up the back
stairs. Apparently the intruder heard her coming. He…or she…slammed the door
shut, causing Sarah to trip down a few steps.” He held up his hand, as if
anticipating Jacob’s reaction. “We wanted her to see a doctor, but she insists
she’s all right.”

“Did you catch him? Do you know who it was?” Jacob appreciated
that Leo would be cautious in making accusations. He was a lawyer, after all.
But it surely must have been a man.

Chief Byler shook his head. “He was gone by the time we got
here. Sarah was very sensible. She ran outside and stopped a passing car. The
motorist called us on his cell phone. But no one seems to have seen the
intruder, whoever it was.”

Sarah stirred in her chair. “I have told you everything.
Mamm
will be worried. I was supposed to meet her at my
aunt’s.”

“Just a few more minutes, Sarah.” Chief Byler picked up a small
notebook from the table in front of him. “Tell me again about the
photograph.”

She nodded, but Jacob could feel her tension mounting.
“Yesterday I looked in the photo albums Mr. Strickland had out in the study.”
She frowned. “He must have gotten them out the afternoon or evening of the day
he died, because they weren’t there when I tidied the room in the morning.
Anyway, the first picture in the album I picked up was of him when he was about
my age, at a picnic with other young people. Remember, Jacob, I told you about
it on the way home?”

He nodded. “I remember. But what—”

“It is missing, that’s what. I realized this afternoon when I
was putting the albums in a box. It looked as if a page had been torn out.”

Chief Byler stood. “Let’s go up and have a quick look at it,
Sarah. Then I promise you can leave.”

They went upstairs, with Jacob following right behind her. He
hoped Chief Byler wouldn’t tell him to leave, because he would hate to argue
with the law. But nothing was said. The police chief seemed to think that what
Sarah knew, Jacob knew, as well.

“This is where I was putting the albums.” Sarah reached for a
box on the desk. “There are some loose photos as well, and—” She stopped,
staring into the box. “The album. It’s gone.”

“You’re sure?” Chief Byler scanned the remaining albums. “These
all look pretty much alike to me.”

Sarah shook her head, lifting them out and setting them on the
desk one by one. “It was the only dark blue one with gold lettering. It’s
missing.”

Leo’s forehead wrinkled. “I don’t understand. What value would
an old photo have to anyone?”

Chief Byler frowned in turn. “You’d think the only person who
might be interested would be a relative.”

“Maude Stevens,” Leo said slowly. “Her late husband was a
distant cousin. And Hank Mitchell, who also claims to be a cousin.”

“Claims?” The chief was on to that in an instant.

Leo’s lips tightened. “I thought Richard was foolish to offer
the young man the garage apartment on nothing more than his word and a letter
from an elderly cousin. But Richard was sure he knew best.”

“I think it’s time I had a talk with Hank Mitchell,” Chief
Byler said. He smiled at Sarah. “Now, as I promised, you can leave. I hope your
mother isn’t fretting too much.”

“Just one thing.” Leo still looked worried. “I don’t think
Sarah should be alone in the house anymore.”

“She won’t be.” Jacob said the words firmly, willing her not to
argue. This was not the time for stubbornness. “I will be with her.”

“Good enough,” Leo said. “I’ll be glad of your help, Jacob. Get
on home now.”

Jacob held Sarah’s arm as they went down the stairs, and she
shook his hand off only when they stepped out onto the porch. “
Mamm’
s coming,” she said, nodding down the street at
her mother’s buggy. “Listen, Jacob—”

“Don’t bother to argue. I’m bringing you tomorrow. And I’m
staying.”

“Not that,” she said quickly. “I’ll be glad enough to have you
there to help me. Just don’t say anything to
Mamm
about what happened, will you? I don’t want her fretting any more than she
already is.”

He hesitated a moment and then nodded. It didn’t matter whether
Sarah’s
mamm
was worrying about her or not. Because
he was doing enough for the both of them.

CHAPTER NINE

S
ARAH
HUGGED
HER
JACKET
around her as
she headed for town the next morning. Mist hung in the valley, but the
battery-operated safety light on Daad’s buggy sent out a reassuring red
glow.

She glanced at Jacob. Did he feel the same edge of tension she
did at driving the buggy on a day that was too reminiscent of the accident?
Usually she could read his every thought, but this morning his stoic expression
defied her. It was almost like looking at a stranger, and that edged her stress
up another notch.

“What…what does Levi King say about your buggy?” Levi, the
local carriage maker, had hauled the remains of Jacob’s vehicle away after the
accident.

“He says I should learn to avoid traffic.” Jacob grinned, and
he was himself again, the Jacob she’d known all her life. “It will have to be
totally rebuilt, for sure. If anyone can do it, Levi can.”

“If you hadn’t been driving me home—” she began.

“
Ach,
don’t talk foolish,” Jacob
said quickly. “What happens is what happens. It is God’s will.”

She nodded, but wasn’t quite convinced. Silence fell between
them again, and it wasn’t the comfortable silence she was used to. It seemed to
vibrate with things unsaid.

Jacob’s hands tightened on the lines, and Bess tossed her head
slightly, as if in protest. He cleared his throat.

He was going to say something—something that might change
things between them forever. Panic set her nerves jangling.

“I wonder if Chief Byler found Hank.” She blurted the words
out—anything to head off whatever Jacob planned to say. “It’s hard to believe he
would take the photo album. Why would he?”

Jacob’s lips firmed for a moment. Then he shrugged. “Why would
anyone? Unless he wanted it for the sake of family memories.”

“But why take it?” They were on safe ground again, and her
voice sounded more normal to her. “He could have asked Leo Frost. I wouldn’t
think he’d mind.”

Jacob frowned. “I don’t know. I just know I won’t be easy in my
mind until you’re finished with this job.”

“It’s only a few more days, I’d guess.” And then what would she
do? She’d been too busy to even think about looking around for another job.
Still, maybe Leo would have some suggestions. “Mr. McKay is coming this
afternoon to put a price on the antiques.”

“Are you supposed to be there to help him?” They were getting
into traffic as they reached the outskirts of town, and Jacob’s gaze was focused
on the road.

“
Ja,
Leo asked me to. He doesn’t
want anyone left alone in the house.”

“I guess we will stay, then.” He drew into the alley that ran
along the Strickland house, bringing the mare to a stop at the gate.

Sarah climbed down a bit more slowly than usual, mindful of the
bruises that had developed after the buggy accident and then that tumble on the
stairs. “I’ll go and check on the boxes for the charity truck while you
unharness,
ja?
The truck should be here early.”

She didn’t wait for Jacob’s agreement, but hurried up the walk.
The sooner they got to work, the better. Maybe then this strangeness between
them would go away.

She went in, taking her jacket off as she did and hanging it on
the hook. She’d check those boxes first and see if there was enough space for
Jacob to move them out to the porch for pickup.

She walked into the sunroom and stopped dead. Hank Mitchell
stood by the table next to Mr. Strickland’s chair. He had an envelope in his
hand.

Maybe her alarm showed in her face, because he gave her a
quick, disarming smile. “Hi, Sarah. Sorry if I startled you.”

“I didn’t expect to see you so early.”
And
how did you get in?

Hank held up the envelope. “I just wanted to pick up something
of mine. I guess I should have waited until you got here, but I have to get
going.”

“Going where?”

He shrugged. “No point in hanging around here, is there? Cousin
Richard was my only connection to this place, and he’s gone.”

“But what about your classes at the college? You have to have a
place to live.”

“Yeah, well, maybe I can get an apartment in Lancaster.” He
shoved the envelope into the pocket of his windbreaker.

“What is that?” She eased back a step. It wasn’t that she was
afraid of Hank. But why didn’t Jacob come?

“It’s just the letter my grandmother wrote to introduce me to
Cousin Richard.” His usually cheerful expression shifted to sorrow. “I don’t
have much from her now, so I wanted to keep the letter.”

“Is that why you took the photo from the album, too?” The words
were out before it occurred to her that it might not be wise to confront
Hank.

For a moment the sorrow lingered on his face, as if he’d
forgotten to change his expression. Then his features hardened, making him look
older. Tougher.

“So you figured that out, did you? I should have known you
would, a smart girl like you. Strickland had a habit of writing on the backs of
photos, unfortunately. He must have been getting suspicious of me, since he went
looking for a photo of my supposed grandmother.”

Her anger flared at the derogatory note in his voice, but she
said nothing. There was no sense in antagonizing Hank even more.

“So you know I wasn’t the person he thought. It doesn’t matter
now. Strickland died before I could get anything out of him.”

“What did you do to him?” The anger boiled over at the memory
of Mr. Strickland lying on the stairs.

“Nothing, nothing.” Hank held up both hands in a gesture of
innocence. “Trust me, he’s no good to me dead. As long as he was alive and
thinking I was his long-lost cousin, I had a chance to cash in on that.
Now—well, now it’s time for me to disappear.” He patted the pocket with the
letter. “It just makes good sense not to leave anything behind to make the
police curious.”

A shiver slid down her spine. Did he mean her?

He grinned, his mobile face once again youthful and harmless.
“Relax, Sarah. I’m a con man, not a killer, if you even know what that means.
I’m just going to walk outside, jump in my car and drive away. If you have a
soft spot for me, you might delay calling the cops until I’m out of town.”

Before she could say a word, he’d darted past her and out the
door. A moment later she heard the roar of his car’s engine.

Footsteps pounded and Jacob rushed in. “Was he in the house?
What’s going on? Are you all right?”

“I’m fine.” She put up her hand at the volley of questions. “I
have to call Chief Byler. I’ll tell both of you at once.”

* * *

J
ACOB
HAD
NO
INTEREST
in sitting in a police
station, even with someone as friendly and understanding as Chief Byler. But
Sarah had to be here, so he was, as well.

The police chief had said he wanted to record her statement
about Hank Mitchell, so that was why they were in his office. Leo Frost had
arrived, looking flustered, and exclaiming over Sarah’s story as she told
it.

Once she’d finished, Chief Byler took the recording to the
secretary in the outer office, and they could hear the murmur of voices from
there. Jacob had hoped that they’d be able to leave once the story was told, but
apparently not. He balanced his hat on his knees and prepared to wait.

At least Sarah seemed calm about this. Oddly enough, he didn’t
think she’d been afraid of Hank, although she was certainly disturbed by what
had happened.

Leo shook his head. “I never thought taking that young man in
was a good idea, but Richard wasn’t one to listen once he’d made up his
mind.”

“I don’t think you could have changed anything.” Sarah’s voice
was filled with sympathy. “Mr. Strickland said to me once that whether he liked
and trusted Hank or not, family was family. He couldn’t turn him away.”

“He didn’t even know that Hank wasn’t related to him.” Leo
drummed his fingers on the edge of the chief’s desk. “I should have investigated
his background myself, even if Richard didn’t want me to.”

“You probably wouldn’t have found anything.” Chief Byler came
back into the room. “Not unless you had access to police files.” He sat at his
desk and pulled the computer keyboard toward him.

“You mean he had a police record?” Leo looked about ready to
explode.

“My office staff started a search for him yesterday, after
Sarah told us about the album disappearing.” He clicked a few keys on the
computer and then turned it so they could see the photo displayed on the
screen.

“That’s Hank Mitchell, all right,” Leo said.

“Hank Mitchell, Jason Davids, James Randall, and probably some
other names, as well. He’s a con artist. His specialty is duping wealthy elderly
people, but he has a somewhat unique method. He uses genealogy files to identify
distant relatives of his mark, and then claims to be a descendant. It’s
surprising how many people took him at his word, only to wake up one morning and
find their valuables gone.”

So Mitchell was a thief. Jacob would like to think that was why
he’d disliked the man, but the truth was he’d been afraid Sarah was noticing him
too much.

“So the letter that Mr. Strickland’s cousin supposedly wrote…”
Sarah said slowly.

“Was a fake,” Chief Byler stated. “The woman in question
actually died many years ago, when she was only twenty.”

Sarah’s blue eyes darkened. “What a wicked thing, to lie to Mr.
Strickland that way. But I don’t understand about the photo. Why did he take it?
That’s what made you suspect him.”

“He was put in an uncomfortable position by Richard
Strickland’s death,” the chief said. “If he disappeared right away, that would
have made us suspicious. He wanted to get rid of anything that might expose him
for what he was. I can’t be sure about the photo, but I had a look at the others
in the album. Strickland was apparently meticulous about recording information
on the backs of pictures. There must have been something written there that
would have given the masquerade away.”

“He had just gotten those photos out,” Sarah murmured.
“Something must have made him think Hank was lying to him. The girl in the photo
was probably the cousin. Hank did say something about Mr. Strickland writing on
the back.”

Leo nodded. “I think you have it right, Sarah. At least now we
know who was to blame for the odd things that have happened at the house.”

Jacob stirred. “What about the accident? Do you think he was
driving the car that hit us?”

“That’s one of the questions we’ll be asking once we catch up
with him. Along with some questions about how Richard Strickland died.” Chief
Byler’s face set in hard lines.

“Surely he didn’t harm Richard,” Leo said. “He had nothing to
gain and everything to lose by his death.”

“Unless Richard realized he was being duped, and threatened to
have Mitchell arrested.” Chief Byler stopped when his phone buzzed. His face
didn’t reveal a thing as he listened. When he hung up, he turned back to them.
“Maybe now we’ll get some answers. The state police picked up Mitchell on
Interstate 80, heading for New Jersey.”

He was gone in a moment, leaving the three of them to stare
silently at each other.

“Well,” Leo said finally. “At least now we don’t have to worry
about your safety, Sarah. But if you want to take the rest of the day off after
all of this, I certainly can’t argue.”

“
Gut
idea,” Jacob began, but Sarah
was already shaking her head.

“Mr. McKay is coming to do the evaluation. I don’t want to make
him change his schedule. I’ll be fine.”

Jacob shifted in his chair, uneasy. Sarah was probably right,
but he still didn’t like it.