The Search (15 page)

Chapter 19

“Perry used to say it wasn't a crime to want something different. I agreed with him for a time.”

L
YDIA
P
LANK

T
he tension in the room was terrible. Beth backed away from Luke and Frannie, sensing that more was going on between them than either wanted to let on. Yet again, she wished that she could close her eyes and make the past few days disappear.

Until she'd come to the Yellow Bird Inn, Beth had been happy, almost content with her life. She'd found great joy in being around children. And she'd always felt well appreciated and respected by the mothers of the children she cared for.

If, by chance, she sometimes wished for a life of more excitement, she brushed it off quickly. When her mother reminded her that she'd made no time for courting or sweethearts, or even the opportunity to meet men, she'd made excuses.

But then she met Chris. With one look . . . that man, so different from her, had ignited every nerve. With one smile . . . she'd begun to think that maybe she was more than who she'd thought.

And now he was gone—in company of men she didn't trust.

What if he never returned? She would always feel guilty that she hadn't done more to help him.

As the silence continued and Frannie and Luke eyed each other warily, Beth knew she would go out of her mind if she didn't say anything.

And so she did. “Would you two like some coffee or tea?”

Both looked at her blankly. Like she'd just offered them funnel cakes, or some other strange food.

Luke was about to answer when he turned abruptly and strode toward the window. “A black Suburban just pulled up. Does this look like the same vehicle, Beth?”

She scurried to the window. Feeling like she was a spy, or worse, Beth peeked around him. Though she couldn't be absolutely sure, it definitely looked enough like the vehicle she'd seen Chris leave in the evening before for her to nod.

Her breath caught as one of the doors opened. Then she saw a boot, a jean-covered leg. And finally Chris himself.

He wore sunglasses and walked with an easy stride toward the inn's front door. He didn't look back toward the car behind him. Not even when it slowly moved forward, gathered speed, then drove out of sight.

She was just wondering why he'd never looked back when the door handle turned.

Darting around Luke, she raced to the door.

“No. Stay quiet, Beth,” Luke warned.

“But—”

“I mean it.”

“Please listen to him,” Frannie pleaded. “He could be dangerous.”

Only for Frannie did she keep silent as Chris entered the room. The moment the door closed behind him, his whole posture changed. Almost as if he was pulling off a costume, he looked less cocky and sure. More exhausted.

No, completely exhausted. And maybe in pain, too?

When he saw them standing in a line, all staring at him, he stopped abruptly and scowled. “What's going on?”

“I want to know who you are,” Luke said.

Still wearing his sunglasses, Beth felt rather than saw his gaze move from Luke's to hers to Frannie. “Name's Chris Ellis.”

“Who do you work for?” Luke's voice was clipped and full of authority, and it was evident to Beth that Chris didn't care for that tone one bit.

His chin rose. “Who I work for is none of your business.”

“Actually, it is. I'm with the police.”

“You're with the Cincinnati Police,” Chris pointed out as he crossed his arms across his chest. “We're here in Kentucky. And unless you say I've done something wrong in Cincinnati, I don't owe you anything.”

To her amazement, Luke backed off. If he was surprised that Chris knew who he was and where he was from, he didn't let on. But his body seemed to change, too.

Before her eyes, his shoulders relaxed, as did the muscle jumping in his jaw. Little by little, he became less territorial and abrasive and more friendly. Almost easygoing. “You're right,” he said. “You don't owe me a thing. But I'd appreciate some candor. Professionally speaking.”

Chris sighed. “Fine, but not here. Not in front of the women.”

“No, I think we should be able to hear,” Beth said. Surprising even herself.

Everyone in the room turned her way.

“And why is that?” Chris asked.

Now she felt a little embarrassed about her gumption. But not enough to backtrack. “I want to hear what you have to say. Because . . . because I saw the gun in your room. And because I'm involved now, too.”

All at once, Frannie gasped, Luke rested his head against the wall in frustration, and Chris pulled off his sunglasses and glared at her. “You searched my room?” he nearly shouted.

But she didn't care about what tone of voice he used. She wasn't afraid of him. Because all she could do was stare at his face. His once smooth, tan skin . . . was now cut and bruised.

One of his eyes was swollen shut.

Without thinking, she rushed to him and pressed her palm lightly on his cheek. “Oh my heavens, Chris! Someone has hurt you.”

“I'm okay,” he murmured. “Right now, I'm okay.” As he reached up and lightly pressed his fingers on top of hers. Just as if her touch was the very thing he needed.

For a moment, right then and there . . . Beth was sure there wasn't another person in the room.

Not one who mattered, anyway.

F
unny how life was like a bramble bush, Deborah Borntrager thought. Their lives were all so muddled together, linked and pulled, that one person's decision affected so many other people's.

When Frannie Eicher got hurt and had to go to the hospital, Beth Bylar made the choice to step in and help run the Yellow Bird Inn.

And when Beth made the choice to do Frannie's job, that meant that she couldn't watch the children she usually did. Which was how Deborah had come to be holding a baby.

The sweet baby was an angel for sure. Only four months old, she reminded Deborah of a doll, she was so tiny and perfect. She was a good baby, too. During the four hours she'd watched her, all little Pippa had wanted to do was be held and rocked.

Deborah figured she could do that all day long.

“Ah, Pippa,” she whispered when the baby squirmed a bit and shifted closer to her chest. “You are a miracle, now, aren't you?”

Baby Pippa responded by kicking her feet a little, then curling back toward Deborah, claiming her heart.

“You better be careful, Deborah,” her mother teased from the door. “You've got such a look of love and affection on your face, you're going to change your mind about children.”

“That's not likely. Pippa is definitely not like most babies in the world.”

One afternoon when Deborah was seven, after sitting through hours of church in a muggy barn, next to two squirming three-year-olds, Deborah had claimed that she would never have children.

Though, of course, she'd said that as a child, privately Deborah had never felt her mind would change. She'd never been one to ache for motherhood like so many of the other women in their community.

Maybe she'd feel differently when she was married and had her own house. She hoped so. But for now, she was thankful to only be watching another woman's baby for a short amount of time.

With a dreamy expression on her face, her mother spoke. “I think little Pippa here is like most babies. She reminds me of you, as a matter of fact. You were a wonderful-
gut
baby.”

Deborah chuckled. “That's not what you used to say about Perry!” she teased. “You said he was a real handful.”

“That's different. Perry was a boy. Besides, he was always stubborn and restless. Even before—” Her voice quavered, then with a jerk, she turned and rushed away.

Deborah sighed.

Living with Perry's memory and all of the assorted mixed-up emotions that came with it was becoming harder and harder to do. Never did her parents want to hear even the slightest criticism of his character.

Not even, it seemed, when he was a baby.

As Pippa squirmed in her arms again, Deborah found herself praying that Sheriff Kramer and his city detective friend would never uncover the truth about Perry's death.

If it simply remained a mystery, she could pretend that she didn't know more than she did. And that would be a very good thing.

Chapter 20

“Finding Perry Borntrager's body wasn't the worst thing to happen to me. Dreaming about it every single night is.”

A
BBY
A
NDERSON

W
hen Frannie spied the pain etched in Chris Ellis's face, she rushed to his side to be of help. “Come sit down, Chris,” she said gently. “I'll bring you a glass of water and a cold compress for your eye.”

“He needs a steak or something for that shiner,” Luke said. “But I'll take care of that in a little bit.” As his gaze rested on her, he frowned. “Frannie, you should sit down, too.”

There was no way she was going to have other people wait on her in her own home. “I'm perfectly fine. Beth's been waiting on me hand and foot from the moment I got home.”

“No, I've been
trying
to do that,” Beth corrected. “And you still aren't taking it easy. If you're not careful, I'm going to tell the doctor that you should've stayed in the hospital longer.”

Ignoring Beth's jibe and Luke's watchful eye, she walked toward the kitchen. “I'll be right back with that water, Chris.”

Just as she was at the sink, filling a mason jar with ice and water, she heard Luke begin his questioning.

“I'd guess you got that black eye recently?” Luke asked.

“No wonder you're a big city detective,” Chris replied sarcastically. “You obviously don't miss a thing.”

“Watch your mouth,” Luke warned. “Just tell me what happened.”

“I don't answer to you, Reynolds.” A chair scraped the wood floor.

“Chris, have a care, now. Don't stand up!” Beth called out.

“Beth, I'm fine.”

“Yeah, right,” Luke scoffed.

Frannie grimaced. Uh-oh. It was becoming obvious that the conversation wasn't going to get much smoother. Putting aside her intention to wrap up some ice in a dishtowel for Chris's face, Frannie hurried back and attempted to ease the tension in the room.

“Luke, perhaps you could wait a bit to ask your questions? He is hurt, you know.”

“I don't think so.”

Fixing a glare on Luke, she took her guest's arm and guided him across the room. Of course he didn't need any help, but his expression looked so guarded, she didn't want him to think he was all alone. “Here, Chris. Please sit, wouldja?”

But to her surprise, he glanced at Beth. For the first time, his eyes turned tender.

“Please,” she whispered.

“Fine.” Chris sat down gingerly.

Worried, Frannie turned Beth's way. Had Chris been injured in all sorts of other places besides his face? “Do you need to go see the doctor? We could take you. I mean, Luke could.”

“I don't need the doctor.”

“Chris, what happened?” Luke asked, this time obviously tempering his voice.

As Chris sipped the water, Frannie felt the tension in the room rise. All of them wanted to know the truth, but it didn't seem as if Chris felt his pains were any of their business.

After draining almost half the glass, he set it down carefully on one of the coasters and then straightened up with a sigh. “I guess I'm not going to get out of telling you all my story, am I?”

“Nope,” said Luke.

“We are only trying to help you, Chris,” Beth added.

Chris's jaw tightened. “All right. Here's the deal. I work for the DEA.”

That meant nothing to Frannie. She'd heard Luke explain the letters, but she'd already forgotten what they stood for. Warily, she met Beth's eye. Beth shrugged, too. Only Luke seemed to find the statement interesting.

“Do you have any identification?”

“It's up in my room. You're welcome to go through my papers. But do you really think I'd make that up?”

“Probably not.”

“I'm sorry, but I don't remember what a DEA is,” Frannie said.

“Drug Enforcement Agency,” Chris explained. “I was asked to go undercover here in Crittenden County.”

“You came here, looking for drugs?”

“For drug dealers.” Chris exhaled. “There's a lot that's going on, but suffice it to say that Perry Borntrager's death has caused quite a disturbance in a lot of circles. We've got some informants who say he was the middleman between St. Louis and this area. When he died, the people above him on the food chain got desperate.”

“So that's where you come in?” Luke prodded.

Chris nodded. “We were hoping his suppliers would be so desperate that they'd accept me fairly easily.” Fingering the sunglasses in his hands, Chris added, “I even said the reason sales were slow was because there were more police in the area than usual.”

Luke grimaced. “So let me guess—they picked you up to show you just how unhappy they were with you.”

Chris nodded as he shifted, then winced. “Pretty much.”

Gesturing around the cozy living room with the overstuffed floral couch, Luke said, “I don't understand why you would stay here and not someplace more private.”

“I thought it might be a good place to start out. Everyone knows that the Yellow Bird Inn doesn't get a lot of customers. I thought I could pretty much come and go as I wanted, unobserved.” With a sardonic direction Beth's way, he said, “I thought I was pretty much under the radar, too . . . until Beth here showed up.”

Across from Frannie, Beth gulped. “Me?”

Chris smiled wryly. “Yep. You asked more questions about my business than Frannie did.”

“I don't know whether I should be embarrassed about that or not,” Frannie said. “After Luke said I was too nosy, I decided to give my guests more privacy.”

“I shouldn't have been so rude,” Luke murmured. “You were fine.”

Frannie gazed at Luke and felt her heart skip a beat. It seemed to her like there was much more meaning in his words than what he was saying out loud.

Oblivious to the new tension rising between her and Luke, Beth spoke again. “Now I'm embarrassed. Oh, Chris. My questioning didn't cause the men to come find you, did they?”

Right before their eyes, Chris's gaze softened. “Not at all. You reached out to me when I needed a friend. I'm grateful for that.”

Frannie looked from Chris to Beth to Chris again. Beth looked like it was taking everything she had not to jump from her chair and perch at Chris's side. And Chris? Well, he truly looked ready to shield her from the worst news about his abduction.

With a heap of satisfaction, Frannie realized that her earlier suspicions had definitely been on the mark. A connection had sprung up between these two while she'd been sitting in her beige room at the hospital.

Luke looked even more alert. “What are your plans now?”

“Now that I've been beaten up?” he asked wryly. “Now I need to check out of here and report in to my supervisors in Chicago. We'll wait a few days to see if I can continue what I'm doing, or if I need to head out.” He stood up with a wince. “But first I better go lie down.”

Just as Frannie was about to volunteer Luke to take him to the doctor or offer some more bags of ice, Beth rushed forward. “I'll help you up the stairs.”

“Thanks.”

Luke stood up, too. “I'll leave my card with Frannie. I'd love to talk more with you. Maybe some of your leads could be the break in my case.”

“Will do,” Chris said, then turned and walked slowly upstairs with Beth by his side.

When the two of them were out of sight, Frannie turned to Luke. “Wonders never cease! Never would I have imagined I would be housing such a man. I feel like I'm in the middle of a spy novel.”

Luke ran a hand through his hair. “You shouldn't be more shocked than me. I thought I knew a lot about Perry's case but Chris just showed me I know next to nothing. I'm going to have to talk to Mose again. I thought he was keeping me informed about everything, but that obviously isn't the case.”

“Maybe he didn't know about Chris and his DEA job, either?”

Staring at the empty stairway, Luke's expression darkened. “Mose knew. He must have. He knew and he decided not to tell me.”

“Try not to be so upset. Maybe there's a good reason?”

Turning to her, his posture relaxed. “Yet again, I'm finding that there's more going on under the surface of Crittenden County than appears at first glance.”

The small smile he sent her way made the rest of the day's aches and pains fade away to something manageable. She felt her heartbeat quicken as a new awareness passed between them.

Nothing about her and Luke made sense. But perhaps there was a reason they'd been thrown together for such a dark time?

As the silence between them grew heavy, Frannie gathered her courage and touched his hand again. “So, Luke, did you come over to make sure I was resting? ”

He blinked, looking taken off guard by her question. For a moment, she felt sure he was going to turn his hand and enfold hers in his own.

But then, with a small shake of his head, he replied. “No. Actually, I came over here to speak to you.”

“Oh?” Perhaps he, too, had realized that there was something special between them! If he took a chance and told her his feelings, Frannie felt sure that she could gain the courage to share her feelings, too. “Did you want to speak about anything special? We're alone now, so we have some privacy.”

“Frannie, I . . . I feel a lot of the same things you do. I do care for you. But now isn't the time to talk about that.”

“It can be.” Oh, she couldn't believe she was being so bold!

With a look of real regret, he shook his head. “Frannie, I want to know about the sunglasses.”

Once again, his voice was hard and cool. All business.

Frannie was struck dumb. She had completely misread the signals and let her dreamy nature get the best of her.

In spite of his handsomeness and the way he'd seemed to care for her in the hospital, he really was
Detective Luke Reynolds
. The police officer visiting with only one goal in mind—to catch Perry's killer.

Attempting to cover up her disappointment, she tried to play dumb. “Sunglasses?”

“The ones in the field. The sunglasses that Perry wore. The ones that have your fingerprints on them.” With his voice cold and clipped, he said, “Frannie, I cannot even believe you've been keeping those sunglasses a secret.”

He couldn't believe
?
Her temper flared. “You make it sound like I didn't tell you about them on purpose. As if I was trying to stop you from solving Perry's murder. But it wasn't like that at all.”

“Then how was it?”

“I didn't mention them because I didn't think they were important.” But of course that wasn't the whole truth. She hadn't told him because she'd feared they had meant something important to the investigation.

“You were wrong.”

She bit her bottom lip. Didn't know what to say. Because, well, there really wasn't anything to say.

“You shouldn't have kept information from me, Frannie. It really was a mistake to do that.” His look was solemn, his words laced with disappointment.

Her mouth went dry. And that was when she realized that nothing she imagined was ever going to happen between her and Luke.

Because no matter how hard she tried, everything in her life always came back to Perry.

G
lad to be of help, Beth wrapped an arm around Chris's waist and helped him walk up the stairs to his room.

“You don't have to do this,” he said.

“Nonsense. I'm stronger than I look. Now, come take a few more steps, if you will.”

Looking weak and sore, and like he was hiding a hundred hurts, he continued. With each step he climbed, his pace had become slower and more hesitant.

After another six or seven steps, he stopped to catch his breath. “Beth, this probably isn't a good idea . . .”

“Don't make this into something it isn't. All I'm doing is helping you to your room.”

He frowned at her logic, but didn't say another word. Instead, he continued his journey, taking a full five minutes to do something that usually only took a minute or two.

By the time he unlocked his door and reached his bed, the skin around his mouth had whitened with the strain. So much so, he hardly did more than bat a hand at her when she knelt down and unlaced his boots, then pulled them off.

Yet again, he tried to push her away. “I'm fine.”

“Shush. Now sit still and let me help you with your boots.”

As she placed her hands on his boot and pulled hard, he almost smiled. “Careful. These boots are smelly. Feet are, too.”

“I imagine I'll survive.” She tugged off one, then with a grunt, tugged off the other steel-toed Timberland.

He gave a noise that sounded like a half-grimace, half-chuckle. “Looks like you have plenty of experience pulling off boots.”

“You have no idea how squirrely four-year-olds are in the winter,” she said as she carefully placed his boots in the corner of his room. “I've helped put on and take off more boots than you can ever imagine.”

“That's to my benefit.” He lay down with a sigh.

He looked so pained, she stepped to his side.

“Don't worry.” He turned his cheek to the down pillow. “You need to get out of here, Beth. It's not right for you to be alone in here with me.”

Though she'd been aware of that, she flushed, not liking his tone. It sounded as if he was talking to a silly teenager. She was definitely not that. “I'm not some innocent young girl, Chris. Just because I'm Amish, it don't mean I'm skittish.”

His ice blue eyes warmed on her before flickering away. “No one would ever accuse you of being skittish. You're a brave woman.”

At the moment, she felt as far away from being brave as she did from the moon. “Don't tease.”

“I'm not teasing. Actually, I'm pretty darn impressed with your breaking and entering abilities. If you weren't a sweet Amish girl, why, there's no telling what kind of cop you could make.”