The Search (6 page)

Now that she was fully awake, she noticed the beige walls and the beige shade covering the window. The television continued to hum next to her, as did the woman's one-sided conversation on her cell phone.

“You, scared?” She smiled weakly. “You're not scared of anything.”

The nurse hurried in and injected something into her IV. She gave Frannie a friendly smile and bustled right back out.

Within seconds, the pain in Frannie's face started to ebb.

“As much as I appreciate you thinking so, when I heard about all that blood . . .”

Before she could apologize for scaring him, he added, “But that's in the past. You're going to be fine. Just need a few days' rest. You'll be good as new and making horrible pies before you know it.”

“Oh, how you flatter,” she said, yawning. “Do you think I can go home today?”

“I hope so. If not today, then early tomorrow. Though, if I were you, I'd try to stay as long as possible. You have guests staying at your inn. So no rest there.”

“But that's my job, Detective. I can't keep depending on Beth to take care of them.”

“Now, now, no you don't. I was ‘Luke' just moments ago. I'm Luke now, too.”

She smiled weakly. Enjoying their shared moment. Enjoying the way that they weren't arguing, weren't talking about Perry's death.

They were having a conversation—well, as good as they could have when it was obvious that he was being on his best behavior.

“You are a
gut
man, Luke. Some of the time.”

“I know,” he said with a smile. “And maybe I can be your friend, too?”

“I would like that,” she said after a moment's pause. She wasn't too familiar with the concept of having a man as a friend, but they'd come too far to pretend they weren't bound to be close.

She was enjoying the quiet between them, the knowledge that they had formed some sort of truce, when she heard the door to the room creak open.

“Frannie? Frannie?”

Her father.

“Excuse me,” her roommate called out. “I'm on the phone.”

“I am not,” her father said crisply. “I am looking for my daughter.”

“Daed, I'm here. On the other side of the curtain.”

Frannie's mood lifted at her father's terse tone. He was introverted but not timid. Never had been.

She was sharing a smile with Luke when the curtains parted.

Seeing him in his usual blue shirt, black pants, and wary expression made her smile broaden. “Daed, it is so good to see you.”

“I wish I could say it was
gut
to see you, but it ain't. You look terrible.”

“Danke.”

He paused, then smiled. “Sorry, but it's true, you know.” He was walking with a limp, as was his way, since he'd gotten on the wrong end of a cow decades ago and was too stubborn to get his injury checked out.

“You didn't have to come to the hospital,” she said.

“Why would you think I wouldn't want to be here? You're my daughter. My only one here in town. Why wouldn't I want to see how you are faring?”

Now she was embarrassed. “No reason.” She'd gotten so used to not asking for much from him, she supposed she had forgotten that he still loved her. Even if he had no desire to help out at her inn.

As she watched him silently, Luke stood up. “Here you go, sir. Take my chair.”

Her father took it with a grateful sigh. “
Danke.
This leg of mine don't seem to want to give me a moment's peace.”

Luke patted his brace with a smile. “I know the feeling.”

Her
daed
looked at Luke with a bit more interest, now that they had something in common. “Now, who might you be?”

“Luke Reynolds, sir.”

“You are English?”

“Yes.”

When it was becoming obvious that her father was trying to piece together the information, Frannie hastened to explain. “He's a detective from Cincinnati, Daed.”

Her father frowned. “Why are you here?”

“We met because of Perry.”

He shook his head. “No, I'm not wondering about why you are here in Crittenden County. I'm curious as to why you are here in my daughter's hospital room?”

“I didn't want Frannie to be alone.”

“And you think she wants your company?” Her father's voice was full of indignation and concern. “I would think even the best of detectives would understand that she is in no condition to be questioned.”

“He's not questioning me, Daed.”

“Then?”

Luke supplied that answer. “We're friends. When I heard she had been injured, I was worried about her.”

But that explanation only seemed to confuse her father more. And made Frannie realize that she'd made a mistake when she'd decided to keep most of the investigation out of her father's hearing.

“I thought she might need someone.” When her father's gaze sharpened, Luke continued back-pedaling. “I mean . . . the surgeries and doctors can be tough to handle by yourself. Especially if you're not used to hospitals and everything.”

“And you are used to them?”

“I've had my share of days in one.” He touched his leg. “I've been recovering from a gunshot wound.”

Frannie coughed loudly, letting Luke know that he had just made a fatal error in the “trust me, I'm basically harmless” department.

“Is she in trouble?” her father asked. “Is that why you're sticking to her like glue?”

“Trouble? Oh no. I just thought . . . well . . . it's not like I have a lot of other commitments right now. I simply thought I'd stay here a while. You know, so Frannie wouldn't be alone.”

“Is that what you want, Frannie?”

As she pondered his question, she looked at Luke. He seemed like someone she could count on. Their friendship was based on the short time he'd spent at her inn, and the questioning he did relating to Perry's death. Though she knew deep down that she felt the beginnings of a real attraction for him, she was enough of a realist to know that they had no future.

But instead of that making her suspicious of him, it only made her trust him more.

Luke was her perfect companion. “Yes, it is what I want,” she said quietly. Then she closed her one good eye so she wouldn't have to see what everyone thought of that.

The nurse cleared her throat. “You all really do need to leave now.”

The two of them filed out past the curtain, leaving Frannie alone with the nurse.

And very curious about what Luke and her father would say to each other next.

Chapter 7

“Perry Borntrager was the type of boy to race buggies in the middle of the night. Though I've done my share of foolish things, I ain't never done anything so foolhardy. I told him that, too.”

J
OHN
P
AUL
E
ICHER

D
etective, maybe now you could tell me the truth about you and my daughter,” Mr. Eicher announced once the two of them were standing out in the hall. The look he sent Luke's way reminded him of picking up his prom date back in high school and meeting her father for the first time.

And just like those days, he began to feel self-conscious. What was it about dads and daughters that never failed to change?

“Mr. Eicher, I promise, Frannie and I are just friends.”

“Friends?” One graying eyebrow rose so high it was removed from view under the brim of his black felt hat. “My daughter has a great many friends. And those are girlfriends. You are not like them.”

“Ah—”

“Now, she also has Micah.”

Almost against his will, Luke snapped to attention. “Micah?”

Bushy eyebrows furrowed together. “You've never heard Frannie speak of him?”

“If she has, I don't remember.” Which was a lie, of a sort. If Frannie had spoken of a man in her life, he would have paid close attention. “Are they courting?”

This time, Mr. Eicher looked a little uncomfortable. “Sometimes they are . . . sometimes not.” When Luke stared at him, waiting for more of an explanation, he said, “Micah has been around Frannie for most of her life. He's always had a sweet spot for her. Nothing would make him happier than for them to marry.”

Luke noticed Mr. Eicher didn't say that it would make Frannie happier. Or him, for that matter.

“Do you think they will marry?”

“I don't know. Perhaps they will get more serious now that Perry is gone.” He winced. “I'm sorry, that don't sound right, does it? I just meant that Frannie had been caught in a whirlwind by Perry.”

“You don't owe me an explanation,” he said, though he filed away the information about Perry to revisit later.

“That is true,” Mr. Eicher said smartly. “However, you still owe me one. Is there something special between you and my daughter?”

“No.” That was another lie, of course. He had become very fond of Frannie. There was something about her that was special to him—and he had a feeling that Frannie felt the same way about him. Even if neither of them had spoken a word about it.

“There can be nothing between you two, you know. You are English. You live far away, in Cincinnati. And, of course, you are a police officer.”

Mr. Eicher said “police officer” the way most people would say “child molester.”

“I realize that.” Because, after all, what else could he say? He was also starting to bristle. He knew the man was probably worried about his daughter and lashing out at him because he was a stranger, but he didn't have to be so gruff.

“We are just friends. I used to rent a room from her. Nothing more, nothing less.”

Someone guffawed. Luke glanced down the hallway and wasn't the least surprised to see that it was Mose. He'd texted that he was bringing Frannie's father to the hospital. This soap opera of a visit was going to be ammunition for Mose's jokes for years to come.

Luke couldn't believe the situation he was in. He was almost thirty years old. He'd dated his share of women. Never before had he been treated to the steely-eyed intense glare of a concerned Amish father.

Before Mr. Eicher could think up more questions to ask, Luke decided to ask some questions of his own. “Are you uncomfortable with me being here at the hospital? If so, I could leave.”

Immediately, the man's expression eased.
“Gut.”

Ready to make good on his promise, he paused. “If I leave, are you planning to sit with her the rest of the day? Because I think we both know that she shouldn't be alone.”

The older man averted his eyes. “I'm afraid I canna do that. I have to get back to my animals.”

“So you'd rather she sit by herself than with me?” He looked around. “Or is this Micah here? I would have thought you'd want the man who intends to marry your daughter to be a little more concerned.”

“I do not know what else he had planned for his day. I couldn't begin to imagine.” But a healthy sheen of red floated up through his cheeks.

Now that he'd been able to make his point, Luke retreated a bit. Softening his voice, he said, “Mr. Eicher, listen. All I'm trying to do is help Frannie in any way I can. And right now, that's not leaving her alone. Hospitals can be very lonely places.”

“You aren't intending to court my Frannie? Because if you are, I'd like to know. I'd rather hear bad news instead of lies. I don't care for liars.”

As prickly as Frannie's father was, Luke was discovering that the more they talked, the better he liked him. “I don't care for liars, either.”

“Then?”

All of a sudden, Luke felt tongue-tied. But then he remembered just how unsuitable they were for each other. And he couldn't afford to let any romantic feelings color the investigation.

In addition, as her father had pointed out, she was Amish. Granted, she was new order Amish, and allowed a lot of modern conveniences that the more conservative sects did not.

But even so, a life with a Cincinnati detective who made his living investigating crimes and murders in the most violent neighborhoods of the city was not the right type of man for a woman whose teachings and beliefs were centered on peace and nonviolence.

“I don't plan to court Frannie.”

Pale blue-gray eyes the same color as Frannie's regarded him intently before he nodded, and then, without another word, started walking toward Mose.

As Luke watched him walk away, he felt slightly guilty. He hadn't promised that he would
never
court her. Just that he didn't
plan
to. He'd chosen his words with care. Hmm. Who was he trying to fool now?

Mr. Eicher's voice rang through the hall. “Mose, are you ready now? Because it's close to feeding time and no one will do the work if I don't.”

“I'm ready. But give me a second, John Paul,” Mose replied. “I need to speak with Luke for a moment.”

“Can't it wait? I just spoke with him.”

“It won't take long. It's about police business,” Mose said easily.

With a grumble, Mr. Eicher said, “I'll go downstairs, then. Where I'll be waiting.”

After they watched Frannie's father deliberately ignore the elevator and walk down the steps, Mose grinned. “He's a piece of work, isn't he?”

“He's something. Is he always so taciturn?”

“Pretty much. If you want to know the truth, this is a good day for John Paul. Usually he substitutes conversation with glares and sighs.”

“He was getting on my last nerve.”

“Oh, he does that with most all of us,” Mose said dryly. “He's never been one for conversation.”

“Or smiles.”

Mose laughed with his usual ease. “That, too. Most folks think Frannie's bed-and-breakfast would do a far sight worse if her father took a mind to spend more time there. He could run off a bull with a cold, he's so ornery.”

“I bet.” Luke figured the bull-with-a-cold comment meant something in Mose's mind, but he was too tired to figure it out. “Well, good luck getting him home.”

“I'll take that luck,” Mose said with a slight grin. “Now, you ready for some news?”

He'd been so rattled by the grilling, he'd almost forgotten that Mose said he had information for him. “I am.”

“Jacob Schrock is back in town. So is Deborah Borntrager.”

Immediately, all thoughts of overprotective fathers fled. “It's about time.” Both he and Mose had interviewed the Schrocks, the owners of the general store where Perry had worked, several times.

Their son, who was about Perry's age, had been mysteriously absent. Deborah, Perry's sister, had also been out of town. For them both to be called out of town right when Perry's body had been found seemed a little too coincidental. But, of course, neither Luke nor Mose had had any cause to be suspicious of them.

But everything in his experience told him that there was more to the coincidence. “Have you questioned them?” he asked in a rush. “What did they say?”

“I haven't spoken with either of them.”

“Why not?”

“Because I thought you might like to do the honors tomorrow, that's why.”

“But the questioning should be done today. While the news is still fresh.”

“Ach, Luke. We both know none of the news about Perry's death is still fresh! It's all old, and interwoven with suppositions and secrets.”

“But what if they start talking to their families?” Luke felt bad about even mentioning it. After all, Mose wasn't a green rookie cop; he'd been on the job as long as Luke had.

But of course, he hadn't been investigating murders in Cincinnati like Luke had. Most of Mose's detective work had concerned domestic disputes and a few petty thefts.

“Settle down, Luke. Deborah and Jacob will still be in town tomorrow. I checked on that. You stay here at the hospital with Frannie. She seems happy to share your company.”

Sitting with her made him feel good, too. But Luke didn't like putting off the investigation for personal reasons. “Mose—”

His buddy held up a hand. “We've waited this long, we can wait a little longer.”

“Look, you need to know that just because I'm here with Frannie, it doesn't mean I've gotten sidetracked.” But even as he said the words, he started to worry. Since when had he ever worked on an investigation where his complete focus wasn't on the case twenty-four-seven?

Mose chuckled. “Oh, Luke, I know you haven't gotten sidetracked! All that's happened is you're getting settled into Crittenden County.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“It means that you're starting to learn how we do things. We take things slow and steady, and think them through. And,” he added with a smile, “we remember that there's a whole lot more to life than solving somebody's death. Now, I'd best get on downstairs before John Paul starts calling for me. And he will!”

While Mose trotted downstairs, Luke pressed the button on the elevator and went up to the third floor to where the small snack bar and coffee shop was located.

“What can I get you?” a Mennonite woman in a flowered dress at the counter asked.

“Coffee fresh?”

“Yep. And so are the Danishes. We've got cherry and lemon today. You should try one, they're worth the calories, I promise.”

He laughed. “If they're that good, I know I won't want to pass them up. I'll take a cup of coffee and a cherry Danish.”

“Room for cream?”

“Nope.”

After he paid, she noticed his brace. “You go take a seat. I'll bring both out to you.”

With a grateful smile, Luke followed her directions and took a chair at one of the five tables. Just minutes later, the woman brought him his Danish and coffee.

Both were outstanding. Hit the spot.

And that's when he started thinking that maybe Mose was right. He was starting to get used to things here. When someone offered to do him a favor, he didn't think it was a sign of weakness to accept.

He was even coming to expect that the food and coffee offered at the hospital would be delicious.

And though he was still having trouble coming to terms with the fact that he was putting off the interviews until another day, he had to admit that what Mose said was true.

It wouldn't make much of a difference to talk to the two new suspects tomorrow.

He really was changing in spite of himself.

“Mister, how about a refill? Free of charge.”

“I'd love one, thanks.” And instead of standing up, he merely gave the woman a grateful smile when she approached.

Yep, he was definitely getting used to things here. So used to things, it made him wonder how he was going to handle things back in Cincinnati. Back in his real world.