Deadly Echoes (2 page)

He took a deep breath and the words tumbled out in a rush. “She was murdered, Sarah. Someone broke in and stabbed her to death.”

“Oh no. Not . . . not again.” As my mind tried to process the information Janet and Paul had given me, a strange unearthly calm filled my body. Before I could sit down, I felt myself drift away into the shadows that surrounded me. The last thing I remembered was Janet's arms reaching out to catch me.

I awoke to someone wiping my face with a damp cloth. Janet stared down at me, a worried look on her face. I sat up, even though she encouraged me to stay still. It took me a few seconds to figure out where I was. As I gazed at the empty schoolroom, I remembered. For just a moment I wondered if I'd had another awful nightmare. Maybe this was nothing more than a bad dream. Then reality hit me, cruelly tearing hope away. Hannah was gone. Janet put her arms around me and let me cry. I had no idea how long we sat like that, but slowly my sobs began to decrease in intensity. Little by little my mind cleared until I felt I could think again. When I let go of Janet, I realized Paul was still in the room. The look of compassion on his face chased away my initial embarrassment at breaking down in front of him.

“Let's get you home,” Janet said gently.

I nodded and tried to get to my feet, but my body felt limp—almost devoid of strength.

“Here,” Paul said, reaching down and helping me up. “Just lean on me.”

The three of us left the school, and Paul held on to me while I got into his car. Though Janet's house was only two blocks away, I was too weak to walk. When we reached our destination, Paul's strong arms supported me while we went up the steps and into Janet's house. As I leaned in to him, I could smell his shaving lotion. Masculine but gentle. After helping me up the stairs and into the old room where I'd lived before moving to my apartment at the school, he quietly left the room. Janet got me settled, making me lie down on the bed. Then she went downstairs to get me a glass of water.

“Is Paul still here?” I asked when she came back.

She nodded. “He's downstairs. I told him he could leave, but he didn't want to go until he was certain you were okay.”

“That's very kind.” A thought suddenly struck me. I felt ashamed that it only occurred to me now. “Cicely. Where is Cicely?”

“That's something we need to talk about, Sarah. You're her closest relative.”

I sat up straighter in the bed. “I'm her only relative. Her father isn't part of her life. I've got to get her. She'll have to come here, Janet.”

She nodded. “We probably need to contact the police department in Kansas City and let them know that.”

“You're right.” I tried to get up but immediately felt dizzy and fell back.

“Let me do some checking,” Janet said. “I'll find out who you need to talk to.”

“And ask where she is now. She's only ten years old. I don't want her to be afraid. I need to speak to her. Let her know I'm coming.”

“I'll take care of it, honey.” She frowned. “I know Hannah's
foster father died several years ago, but didn't you say her foster mother was still alive?”

“She's in a nursing home. In the last stages of Alzheimer's.” I shook my head. “She doesn't even remember Hannah. There's no reason to call her.”

I pushed the quilt off and swung my legs over the side of the bed. Although I felt another wave of dizziness, it dissipated quickly. My shoes sat on the floor so I slipped my feet into them. “I'd like to talk to Paul.”

Janet took my hand. “Are you sure? Shouldn't you lie down a bit longer?”

I grabbed her hand. “I've got to keep myself together for Cicely. I'm so thankful Hannah and I found each other again after all these years. If we hadn't, I probably wouldn't know about her death, and Cicely would be all alone.”

Janet hugged me. “She is blessed to have you for an aunt. There isn't anyone else in the world who could take care of her the way you will.” She stroked my hair. “I think it would be best if you moved back to my house, Sarah. Right away. Your apartment is too small for two people, and I have an extra room for Cicely. Besides, I can help. Be a support for both of you.”

I wiped away tears of gratitude. “I don't know what I would do without you. You're the best friend I've ever had, and I know Cicely will love you too.”

“We'll all be okay,” she said quietly. “God will walk us through this.”

I finally got to my feet. “He'll have to. I know I can't do this under my own power.”

Janet slid her arm through mine. “I'll make you something to eat while you talk to Paul.”

“I'm not hungry.”

“I understand, honey, but you need to keep your strength up. Just trust me. Okay?”

I gave her a small smile. “Whatever you say.”

She returned my smile, though her eyes held the pain of the past few hours. “Now, that's what I like to hear.”

She helped me downstairs. I found Paul sitting on the couch in the living room. When I came into the room, he stood up.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, his eyes wide with concern.

“Better, thank you. I'm sorry I fainted.”

He shook his head. “Please don't apologize. I'm so sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you.” I sank down into the chair next to the couch.

“If you'll excuse me,” Janet said, “I want to make Sarah some lunch. Will you stay and eat with us, Paul?”

“I'd like to, but I've got to get back to the station. They're probably wondering where I am. After you called me, I told them I would help you deliver the news about Sarah's sister and then report right back.”

“I called Paul after I talked to Hannah's neighbor,” Janet explained. “I wanted to make sure what she told me was true. Paul contacted the police in Kansas City to confirm the details.”

“Thank you, Paul,” I said. “I appreciate all your help.”

“I want to thank you too,” Janet said. “Not only for your assistance with the police, but for helping me get Sarah home.” She patted my shoulder and left the room.

“I'm so embarrassed,” I said to Paul. “I can remember fainting only one other time in my entire life.”

“You were told some incredibly shocking news. Fainting is a natural reaction.”

“You're very kind.”

He nodded and stared down at the floor for a moment. When
he looked up again, his expression was somber. “When you got the news about your sister, you said, ‘Not again.' I hope you won't think I'm sticking my nose in where it doesn't belong, but I couldn't help but wonder what you meant.”

I cleared my throat. Sharing my past was something I didn't often do. Only a few people in Sanctuary knew my history. With Hannah's death, the past had suddenly come roaring back.

“When I was six and my sister was twelve, we lived in Raytown, Missouri, a suburb of Kansas City. One night my parents were murdered. Hannah and I were both in the house when it happened. Hannah hid us in a small storage area under the stairs. If she hadn't, we probably would have been killed as well. Some things were taken from our house, so the police ruled the killings the result of a burglary gone wrong.”

Paul looked stunned. “That's terrible. I'm so sorry.”

“Paul, did I hear Janet right? Did Cicely find Hannah?”

He nodded.

I covered my face with my hands, trying to compose myself. When I finally brought them down, I took a deep, shaky breath. “When my parents were murdered, our next-door neighbor called the police. I guess he saw the killers leave and thought it looked suspicious. Unfortunately, he couldn't identify them. It was night. Too dark to see anything clearly. Hannah and I stayed in that closet until the police came, but as they removed us from our home, we saw our parents' bodies.”

“I can't imagine how traumatic that was.”

I nodded. “Hannah saw more than I did. I was so young all I can remember is blood . . . and white orchids. I guess my mother had them in a vase. In the struggle they fell on the floor next to her.”

“I'm so sorry, Sarah.” He paused for a moment. “I understand
you and Hannah only recently reconnected. Did you get separated after you lost your parents?”

I nodded. “It's a rather complicated story.”

“I'd like to hear it sometime. If you want to tell me, that is.”

I stared at him in surprise. “I'm not sure you'd find it very interesting.” I was startled to see him blush.

“Actually, I'm very interested in you.” He coughed lightly. “In your story, I mean.”

Not knowing what to say, all I could come up with was “Thanks.” I shook my head. “I . . . I'm sorry. It's hard for me to think right now.”

“I understand. I wish I could do something more to help you.”

“You've done enough,” I said, trying to smile at him. “I'm very grateful you were here.”

He stood up slowly. I sensed his concern for me, and I fought back the tears that threatened to overtake me again. He'd seen me cry enough for one day.

Paul's eyes were locked on mine as he ran his hand through his thick, dark hair. “Someone from Kansas City will contact you soon. Again, please feel free to call me if I can do anything. Anything at all.”

“If you learn any details about the investigation, will you share them with me?”

He put his hat on his head. “Certainly. But I'm not really involved with Kansas City. I do have a friend who works for the department there. If you want, I can call him and ask him to keep me updated. I really doubt he'll be able to tell me anything different from what the police will tell you.”

“I'd really appreciate it, Paul. Whoever killed our parents was never caught. I really don't want to see that happen again.”

“Give the police a chance, Sarah. Don't give up on them before
the process even begins. Just because law enforcement let you down once doesn't mean the same thing will happen this time.”

I sighed. “I'm sure you're right. It's just that I've lived without closure for all these years. I don't want that for Cicely.”

“I understand. I'll give my friend a call. For now, you take care of yourself and your niece.”

“Thank you so much. Cicely will need a lot of help. Believe me, I know what it's like to feel all alone in the world.”

“I'm sure you do. Cicely is blessed to have you to turn to.” He walked over to the front door. “I'm going back to the station. You know how to reach me?”

“I do. Thank you.”

He paused with his hand on the doorknob. “Again, I'm really very sorry, Sarah.”

“I know you are. Thanks.”

I watched him leave, hoping he would follow through on his promise to call his contact in Kansas City. I really wanted the person who killed my sister brought to justice. Not knowing who had killed my parents was like having an open wound in my soul that had never healed. I'd lived my life in the shadow of their murders. How could I be in the same situation again? I struggled to push the thought out of my mind. For now, I needed to concentrate on bringing Cicely home. Even more than seeing Hannah's murderer brought to justice, I was certain my sister would want to know that her daughter was safe and loved. I was determined to do everything in my power to make that happen.

I spent the rest of the afternoon sitting at the desk in my old bedroom, talking to the police department in Kansas City. Janet had given me some numbers to call, but it still took a while to find the right person. After being transferred more than once, I was finally connected to a very kind woman who worked with the Department of Children and Families. She informed me that Cicely had been placed in emergency foster care. When she said the words
foster
care
, a chill ran through me. But the woman assured me this was one of their best homes and that Cicely was doing as well as could be expected. After telling her who I was, she promised they would work with me. Although she couldn't give me Cicely's number, she told me she'd arrange to have someone call me. About an hour later, the phone rang. It was the woman who had provided Cicely emergency shelter. She introduced herself as Cora Anderson.

“She's in shock,” Cora said. “I'm doing my best to comfort her. Tomorrow morning she'll see a counselor. He'll assess her emotional condition.” She sighed. “She may need some
follow-up help after she leaves here. She discovered her mother's body, you know. I can't imagine how that feels.”

A picture of blood and orchids flashed through my mind, and my stomach turned over.

“I appreciate everything you're doing to help her,” I said. “I'm working with the Department of Children and Families to clear the way for me to bring her home.”

“I hope you won't have any trouble,” Cora said slowly. “It would help to have something that mentions Hannah's wishes.”

“She asked me to be responsible for Cicely if something ever happened to her, but I don't have anything in writing.”

“Can you prove you're Cicely's aunt?”

“I suppose our birth certificates would prove Hannah and I are sisters. And Cicely knows me. Shouldn't that count for something?”

“Of course. But you'll have to work through DCF. There's nothing I can do to help you. I'm sorry.”

“I just want to get her home so I can take care of her.”

“I know,” Cora said. “Hopefully it won't take long. Here she is now.”

I heard Cora talking softly, and then Cicely got on the phone.

“Aunt Sarah?”

The pain in her voice made my heart drop. “Yes, honey. I'm here.”

“Are you coming to get me?”

“Yes, I am. There are some things I have to do first, but I'll get them taken care of as quickly as I can. The people in Kansas City want to be certain you'll be safe with me.”

“Try not to take too long, okay? Cora is very nice, but I don't know these people.”

“I understand, sweetheart. You just hold on. I'm sure it won't be long.”

“Am I going to live with you?”

“Actually, my friend Janet has asked us to live with her. Do you remember her big house? You'll have your own room. There's lots of space here.”

“I like Janet,” she said slowly. “And Murphy too. My mom wanted us to have a dog, but we couldn't because she wasn't home enough.”

I found myself nodding like an idiot. As if Cicely could see me. “Murphy will be very happy to see you. He's crazy about you.” At that moment I wanted to hug Murphy's neck—along with all the other dogs and cats that had the ability to fill a void in a child's life like nothing else could. Animals were one of God's miracles. Unlimited love and understanding all wrapped up in a furry body.

“Someone killed my mother,” Cicely said suddenly, as if she'd just realized it.

“I know. I'm so sorry. But you're not alone, Cicely. I'm here, and I'll take care of you. I promise. Okay?”

There was a long silence on the other end before she whispered, “Okay.”

I so badly wanted to be with her right at that moment, but all I could do was work through the process the state had set in place to protect children. It was a blessing as well as a curse, but it was necessary.

I told Cicely to give the phone back to Cora. Then I asked Cora to allow Cicely to call me whenever she wanted to.

“Of course,” she said. “And I'll phone you after her appointment in the morning. Do you have any idea when you'll get here?”

“Not yet. I want to make sure I have everything I need before
I arrive. Shouldn't be too long though. I want to bring Cicely home as soon as possible.”

“I understand. Please don't worry. I'll take good care of her.”

“Thank you, Cora. Good foster parents are worth their weight in gold. I know that from firsthand experience.”

“You were in the system?”

“Yes. Some of it was good, but a lot of it was awful.”

She sighed. “I'm sorry. We're working hard to make it better for all the children, but bad parents slip in sometimes because the need is so great.”

I thanked her again, and we said good-bye. I breathed a prayer of gratitude to God that He'd sent Cicely to Cora. Now I needed to get all the paper work together that DCF needed, talk to the police, and plan Hannah's funeral. I was trying to figure out how I could possibly get everything done when I heard the doorbell ring downstairs. A couple of minutes later, Janet knocked on the bedroom door and then opened it.

“It's Jonathon,” she said. “He's come to check on you.”

Jonathon Wiese was the pastor of my church, Agape Fellowship. Although I didn't really feel like seeing anyone right then, I knew talking to Jonathon would probably help me. He seemed to always know what to say in certain situations. Since he'd come to Sanctuary a few years earlier and become our pastor, his ministry had blessed me many times. Next to Janet, he knew me better than anyone else, and he was aware of my history.

“Okay.” I stood up but swayed a little. Janet ran over and grabbed my arm.

“You poor thing. You need some rest,” she said. “You're so busy worrying about Cicely, you're not getting the time you need to deal with this yourself.”

“I'll be fine. To be honest, having Cicely to think about is a big help. It makes me focus on her instead of Hannah.”

“I understand that. But you still have to take care of yourself, Sarah. If you won't do it for yourself, then do it for Cicely. She needs you to be strong.”

I nodded. “Okay. Thanks.”

“Let's get you downstairs. I'll fix you a cup of tea.”

“That sounds wonderful.”

She followed me down the stairs, probably afraid I was too shaky to make it down alone. I had to admit that I felt a little weak. Grief over Hannah's death had left me numb except for a queasy feeling in the pit of my stomach. I couldn't shake the idea that if I could throw up I'd feel better. It didn't make any sense, but the thought wouldn't go away.

When I walked into the living room, I found Jonathon sitting on the couch. He stood up when he saw me.

“Thank you for coming, Pastor,” I said.

He came over and took my hands in his. “Of course,” he said. “I'm so sorry, Sarah. What can I do to help?”

Jonathon was in his early thirties and unmarried. Although an unmarried pastor wouldn't be accepted at Sanctuary Mennonite Church, his election as pastor had been unopposed at Agape. He'd been the assistant pastor until our head pastor, Pastor Barker, moved away. Jonathon's sincerity and knowledge of the Bible made him the only logical choice. He was very careful around the single women in our church and avoided dating. That wasn't to say there weren't quite a few young ladies in Sanctuary who were interested. Jonathon was very handsome, with dark hair and intense blue eyes.

“I'm making Sarah a cup of tea, Pastor,” Janet said. “Can I get you anything? Tea? Coffee?”

“A cup of coffee would be great. If it's not too much trouble.”

She smiled at him. “Not at all. I'll be right back.”

I pointed to the couch. “Please, Pastor. Sit down.” I took a seat in a nearby chair. “I don't know that you can do anything except keep us in prayer. Right now I'm trying to make arrangements to bring my niece to Sanctuary.”

“I remember meeting Cicely a few months ago when she and her mother were in town,” Jonathon said. “I can't imagine what she's going through.” He clasped his hands together and leaned forward. “But I guess you can, can't you?”

Tears sprang to my eyes, and I tried unsuccessfully to blink them away. “Some of it, yes. I was younger than Cicely when my parents were killed, so I don't remember much. Cicely is ten. She'll probably have more to deal with than I did. Finding her mother like that . . .” My voice trailed off. I couldn't say anything else. It was too horrific to think about. I dabbed at the tears that fell down my cheeks.

“She'll need a lot of understanding, Sarah. If I can do anything to help her, I'm more than willing. I'm here for both of you. Please call me anytime. Talking things out can make a difference. Many people make the mistake of thinking they can just ignore the pain and ‘get over it.' But grief doesn't work like that. You have to acknowledge it.”

“I'm afraid there's not much time to grieve, Pastor. Maybe after I get Cicely home . . .”

Jonathon shook his head. “Sarah, have you ever heard the expression, ‘Feelings buried alive never die'?”

“No, I don't think so.”

“It means we have to find a way to deal with our feelings, because they don't just go away. Burying them will only cause problems in other areas.”

“That makes a lot of sense. I'll work on that.”

He smiled at me. “Don't turn it into work, Sarah. Just allow yourself to grieve. And if you need a shoulder to cry on, I'm here.”

“Thank you.”

He sighed and leaned back. “Forgiving the person who did this will be one of the hardest things you'll ever do.”

I could almost feel my heart harden inside my chest. “Right now that's not even on my mind. I'm concentrating on Cicely. Maybe I'll never know who killed my parents, but I want this animal arrested. If not for me, for Cicely. She shouldn't have to spend the rest of her life wondering what happened. Wondering why.”

Jonathon was quiet for a moment. Frankly, I was surprised at the sudden rush of emotion I felt. I'd tried so hard to put my parents' murders behind me. Hannah's face suddenly floated into my mind.

“I
may have uncovered something about the people who killed Mom
and Dad, Sarah,”
she'd said during her last visit.
“It's possible I'm close to finding out
what really happened.”

I'd listened politely to everything she told me, but I couldn't allow myself to go down that road again. I had no desire to revisit the confusion and hurt that had followed me for years. Besides, how could Hannah solve murders that the police in Kansas City couldn't crack? It didn't make sense. Nor did the information she'd collected. A bunch of loose facts that didn't fit together. No solid evidence. Even Hannah admitted she didn't understand it all. Sensing my lack of interest, she'd changed the subject, but I could tell she was hurt that I hadn't been receptive.

“The Bible tells us that God will fight for us,” Jonathon said gently, bringing me back to the present. “Let Him take care of whoever did this.”

“I don't have much of a choice, Pastor.”

At that moment Janet came back into the room with coffee for Jonathon and a cup of hot tea for me. We thanked her, and I quickly picked up my cup. For some reason having something to hold on to made me feel better. After casting a concerned look my way, Janet left the room.

Jonathon took a sip of coffee and put his cup down on the coffee table. “You may have some unresolved feelings about what's happened. If you do, it's perfectly normal. Please don't suppress it. God can handle your anger. He's not upset with you. He wants you to be free, because He loves you.”

“I'm trying to stay calm. I keep reminding myself that just because the police didn't catch the man who murdered my parents doesn't mean they won't find the killer this time. In fact, maybe they already have that person in custody.” I sighed. “Thinking that way helps me some. I really do want to see the murderer punished, Pastor. I can't help it. Being raised Mennonite, you probably find the idea of retribution offensive.”

He smiled. “Mennonites believe in justice, Sarah. They just don't believe in vengeance meted out from the hands of men.”

“I wish I could be like that, but I guess I'm just not as perfect as you.” My comment sounded rude, but I hadn't meant it that way.

Jonathon raised his eyebrows in surprise. “I'm not perfect.” He stared down at the floor for a moment. “I'm going to tell you something I've never told anyone in Sanctuary except the elders in our church. I shared it with them because I felt they had the right to know.” He took a long, deep breath. “I almost shot a man once. Thankfully, I didn't have to. But I was ready to do it.”