A Secret Identity (31 page)

“Sure.” She picked up the book and carried it to a copy machine at the foot of the stairs. Soon I had five copies in my hand, and Annabelle was carrying the Trust Book back to the locked room where she’d gotten it.

By the time I got back to the farm, I was desperate for someone to talk to about my discovery. I was so delighted to see Jake and Rose that I almost ran from the car to them. Rose sat on the second step of the front porch and Jake was in his chair beside her.

“Look!” I said, thrusting my papers under their noses. “I found it.”

Then it dawned on me that they had been having a serious discussion, and I had interrupted.

“I’m sorry,” I said, pulling the papers back just as each put a hand out for them. “You were probably discussing Mary.”

“We weren’t,” Jake said. “But I think it’s a good time to be interrupted.” He gave Rose a look that was half challenge, half tease.

She nodded agreement and looked calmly at me. “So, Cara, what were you trying to show us?”

Grinning, I held out the papers again. “Pop’s adoption papers!”

“I thought you already had them,” Jake said as he bent for a look.

“I have a set given to my great-grandparents, but these are different. These are the court documents that have everyone’s name in them—even Pop’s mother. This is the absolute proof that Pop was born to Madeleine Biemsderfer.”

“And?” Jake said.

“And now we know where he came from. Now we have family.”

“And you didn’t before?”

I looked at him, exasperated. “A genetic family. DNA and all that.”

“Ignore him, Cara,” Rose said with a smile. “He likes to play devil’s advocate.”

Jake looked at her in surprise. “I do?”

Rose rolled her eyes. “Have you ever listened to yourself? You’re the one who challenges everything, including my care of your mother.”

“Well, it’s just that I’ve been around hospitals a lot.”

“Um. And you’re an expert now.”

Jake scowled. “I’ve learned how important it is to ask questions.”

Rose scowled back. “Tell me about it.” But her mouth quirked up and ruined the scowl. She turned to me. “So what will you do now that you have this information?”

“I can prove to a major skeptic that the relationship is real. That will be a satisfying experience.”

“Have the family members you’ve met been nice?” Rose asked.

“Most have. The skeptic hasn’t.”

“Is he responsible for the slashed tires and the dead hens?” Jake asked.

I frowned. “I don’t know. But I find it hard to believe an adult would do things that are so juvenile.”

“So who are the juveniles?” Rose asked.

I stared at her. This was one logical lady. “There’s Morgan who looks just like me. And there are two boys, Mick and Pip.”

Jake leaned back in his chair, elbows on the arms, hands clasped chest level. “So which one?”

“Mick wasn’t very pleasant to me the one time I met him. In fact he was cold and threatening.” I thought of his hand on my arm and could almost feel the pressure.

“See?” Jake said. “A suspect already.”

Rose stood. “I’ve got to get going. I have a couple of more stops before my day’s finished. But Jake, I still say that you can’t claim Jesus was a nice man.” And she left.

“You can’t say Jesus was a nice man?” I stared after Rose. “Of course He was nice.”

Jake gave a huff that was as close to a laugh as he got. “You’ve come in on the middle of our conversation. Somehow we got talking about what we believe. She believes Jesus is the Savior of the world.”

“Me too,” I said.

He nodded. “Them too.” And he waved toward the house. “But I’m not certain. I said maybe He was just a nice man. Rose says He can’t be. Did you know that she’s a very opinionated woman?”

“Rose?” I thought of her sweet demeanor and gentle care of Mary.

He snorted. “See? She’s fooled you too. She says that if Jesus wasn’t God, then He was a maniac or a liar. He made too many claims about Himself to be normal.”

I nodded. “I agree.”

He scowled, but I refused to let his bad mood affect me. I smiled brightly and watched his scowl deepen in response. “Careful,” I muttered. “Your face’ll freeze that way.”

“Cute,” he snarled, but I saw a bit of a smile tug at his mouth.

“Have you always believed differently than your family?” I asked.

“I don’t remember a time when I didn’t question all the rules and the hairsplitting and the separation from all that’s ‘worldly.’ I decided that if I had to follow the
Ordnung
to be a Christian, then I wouldn’t be one.”

“Who says you have to follow the
Ordnung
to be a Christian?”

“All my DNA relatives.” He looked at me in challenge. “I’ve known my blood family all my life, Cara, but I’ve never fit in. I’ve never really belonged. DNA doesn’t guarantee anything. I don’t know if Rose is right about Jesus, but I know I’m right about DNA. Don’t hold your breath over your new relatives. Blood isn’t necessarily thicker than water.” He wheeled around and rolled to his apartment. Hawk came running from the field behind the house to join him.

I sat on the steps for several minutes, thinking about Jake and his heritage. I knew he had broken free of the belief system his family held dear, but he hadn’t left family. Was that because his disability forced him to stay dependent? Or was it because he loved them in spite of their disagreements? I knew how his mother felt. She loved him dearly even as he broke her heart.

If Jake could leave, would he? Certainly he’d have his own home, but would he break the emotional ties? Somehow I didn’t think so. I’d seen the respect he had for his parents and his camaraderie with Elam.

I looked up at the sound of a motor and watched a FedEx truck pull into the drive.

The driver got out and walked toward me.

“Is there a Cara Bentley here?” he asked.

“That’s me.” I met him halfway up the walk. I loved getting packages. Before technology made it possible to send everything electronically, a large part of my business was transacted through the mail. I got packages containing page proofs or new covers or reviews. I missed the fun of opening something unknown. I looked at the envelope with anticipation as the FedEx guy drove down the road. Maybe this was the new contract?

I rushed to my room and grabbed scissors from the pencil caddy on my desk. I slit the envelope and slid out the contents…and felt my heart contract with horror.

Lying on my desk were mutilated pages of
As the Deer
.

Chapter 14

I
stared at the carnage in front of me. All the pages of
As the Deer
had been ripped from the binding. Some had been further torn in two, some crumpled into tight balls, some torn into confetti. Some of the tiny pieces floated to the floor, and Rainbow came running, thinking we were going to play a new game. She was quickly disappointed as I could do nothing but stare in shock.

Even the cover had been defaced. The back cover had been cut into tiny pieces the size of my fingernail. The letters on the front cover had been scrawled over with a permanent black marker, obliterating the title. The beautiful forest scene in soft greens and golds had ugly, drooling monsters with lolling tongues, nasty eyes, and spiky horns added to it. And from each letter of my name dripped red drops of blood, forming a large puddle at the bottom of the page. At the edge of the puddle lay two dead chickens.

I don’t know how long I stared at the destroyed book. Even if the mailbox hadn’t been blown up, my tires slashed, the hens killed, and the note delivered, I’d have felt threatened and incredibly vulnerable by the sheer nastiness of this attack. The cumulative effect of the hate evidenced in the five occurrences was overwhelming. I didn’t know what to do, what to think. The spite made my mouth go dry and my insides clench.

Finally I became aware of coherent thought and realized I had another reason to be convinced that Amos had not done any of these things. The sheer amount of time required to accomplish this literary mutilation as well as the other attacks precluded his involvement. He was a man with things to do and places to go. He didn’t have hours to sit around and plot and destroy.

Which left the kids. Angry Mick. Talkative Pip. Lovely Morgan.

With shaking hands I gathered all the pieces into the FedEx envelope. I knew what I had to do. Much as I disliked the idea, I had to go talk with Amos and Jessica. And I had to go this evening. Whoever was committing this petty crime wave had to be stopped before it accelerated into actions that were truly dangerous.

I also wanted the flurry of nastiness to stop for the sake of John and Mary. I disliked intensely having ugliness strike their farm because of me. It wasn’t fair. They had enough to deal with due to Mary’s fall. They didn’t need a vandal with a vendetta against me.

By the time Todd arrived at 5:30, I had calmed down quite a bit. In fact, I felt almost normal, whatever that is. Still I didn’t doubt for a moment that my feeling of security was due to his general presence in my life and specific presence here at the farm.

He was truly a gift from God.
Thank You
.

I ran down the stairs with Pop’s paper in one hand and the FedEx envelope in the other. I needed to tell Todd about both, but which did I tell him about first?

When I got outside, I stopped abruptly, my eyes drawn to the sky. It had that roiling, boiling look that presaged a monumental storm. To the west the sun was already hidden behind banks of writhing steel gray clouds, and they were moving rapidly in our direction.

Todd looked up too. “Big storm coming.” A roll of thunder punctuated his comment. He gave me a quick kiss. “Let’s go grab something to eat. I’ve got to be back at the office by seven. I’m seeing clients all evening.”

Disappointed at the brevity of his visit, I decided to hold the slaughtered book until dinner was over. It would undoubtedly be better for our digestion that way. We ate at the Bird-in-Hand Restaurant, and over turkey and filling, I described in great detail my trip to the Archives. Between bites of cranberry sauce, I passed him the copy of Pop’s court record, which he read thoroughly.

“And I owe it all to you,” I said. “If you hadn’t thought of the prothonotary, I wouldn’t have said proof that even said Amos can’t contest.”

He looked up from the document grinning. “They do get a bit carried away by the saids, don’t they?”

“
Ad nauseum
. It’s a good thing legal documents are so much easier to understand today.” I even managed to say it with a straight face.

“Ouch,” he said. “It’s just that some things are
pro forma
.”

“If scientists accepted that things are just the way they are, there wouldn’t be any new discoveries.”

“I liked it better when you were grateful for my help.”

“Thank you, Todd,” I said obediently. “The prothonotary was a brilliant idea.”

“Then I can count on your vote for Lawyer of the Year?”

“I’ll stuff the ballot box.” I ate my shoofly pie with joy. There was something so wonderful about being with this man.

When we left the restaurant, the black clouds had taken up residence overhead, and the wind was whipping like a malevolent fury. It wasn’t raining—yet. Gravel, left from cindering the roads in winter, stung as it flew through the air. Gusts buffeted the car as we drove to the farm. When we saw an Amish buggy approaching, horse trotting urgently, I was glad for the sturdiness of our vehicle. A flash of lightning lit the dimness and a crack of thunder sounded as if it were in our backseat. The horse, eyes wide and nostrils flared with fear, shied and tossed his head. The woman driver fought for control, and I was relieved to look back over my shoulder and see her pull into a farm lane.

When we parked in the drive at Zooks’, I pulled out the FedEx envelope. “I had another interesting experience today.”

“Saving the best to last?”

“Hardly.” I held out the envelope. “Someone sent this to me.”

He peered inside. “What in the world?”

He dumped the contents in my lap. The pages, half pages, crumpled pages, and confetti looked just as obscene against my tan skirt as they had on my desk.

“Cara! Your book!”

“Someone knows how to stick a knife in a writer’s heart without actually committing the crime.” I think it was the tremor in my voice that made my attempt at humor miss its mark.

“Oh, honey.” He laid his hand against my cheek. “I’m so sorry.”

I nodded, his sympathy making tears spring to my eyes.

“You know Amos didn’t do this, right?” he said.

“I think it was one of his kids.”

“Probably. But which one and how do we prove it?”

“I don’t really care which one.” And I didn’t at this point. I just wanted it all to stop. “I thought I’d go to The Paddock this evening and talk to Amos. I’ve got my indisputable proof of relationship.” I patted my purse which held Pop’s records. “And I’ve got the threatening note and what’s left of my book.” I began slipping the wreckage back in the envelope.

Todd put his hand over mine. “Don’t go over there tonight.”

“I want to. I want this settled.”

“But I can’t go with you. I’ve got clients coming.”

“I know and I feel badly about that. I’d like you with me.” I pulled my hand free and returned to putting
As the Deer
in the envelope. “But I’ve managed on my own for thirty years. I guess I can manage for one more night.” I was able to sound confident in spite of my thudding heart. I gave him what I hoped was a convincing smile.

“Don’t go, Cara.” He leaned toward me, his face intent. “Amos isn’t the nicest person in the best of times. Tonight he’ll be even more unhappy than usual when he sees your papers.”

I gave him a weak smile. “He’d probably be unhappier if you were along.”

He blinked.

“You’re a threat to him,” I explained. “You’re an up-and-coming lawyer whom judges congratulate on your work. People respect and like you. I saw that the other night. You’re also honest and extremely capable. In other words, you’re a threat.”