Rising Darkness (16 page)

I turned my attention back to the crowd. Not one man looked like Terrance Chase. At that moment, it occurred to me that I really didn't have a backup plan if I didn't find him. I'd left St. Louis hoping he was here and planning to track him if he wasn't. Going back to the paper without my big story hadn't crossed my mind.

I noticed a man walk into the room wearing a sheriff's department uniform, Sarah Miller's arm linked through his. This had to be Paul Gleason. They walked over to the table behind mine. I realized Esther and Janet were at the same table. Although I wanted to say hello to Esther, I wasn't thrilled
about meeting Paul. I could only hope Esther or Jonathon wouldn't decide to tell him why I was in Sanctuary.

At six o'clock, Jonathon walked to the middle of the room and asked for everyone's attention. After welcoming those attending, especially members of Sanctuary Mennonite Church, he led a brief prayer and then pointed at each table around the room, giving them numbers and asking people to get their food one table at a time to avoid congestion.

“And if you need help, please raise your hand. We have volunteers who will find out what you want and fill a plate for you.” His gaze swept the crowd. “Table number one, you can get started.”

I watched for hands going up and helped Nate and a few other volunteers fetch plates for those guests. I saw Esther raise her hand, but I turned the other way and assisted an elderly Mennonite man instead.

Once it seemed everyone had been served, I went through the food line myself. There was so much food, it was ridiculous. I finally picked some smoked turkey, a couple spoonfuls of corn relish, and some marinated cucumbers, red onions, and tomatoes. When I got back to my table, I found it occupied with other volunteers. I was happy to see Mary and Rosey, so I sat next to Mary. We talked a bit, and then Nate joined us.

“Wow, I'm beat,” he said, plopping down into the chair on the other side of me. “I may be too tired to even open my mouth.”

Mary laughed. “You filled your plate pretty full for someone who can't eat.”

Nate picked up his fork. “I'm just trying to keep up my strength.”

“Well, that should do it,” Rosey said, grinning.

“I take it you've all met?” I asked.

Mary nodded. “Pastor Jonathon brought Nate to the restaurant yesterday. That's the fastest way to get to know new people in Sanctuary. Since we don't get that many newcomers, they kind of stick out like sore thumbs.”

Nate leaned over toward me. “She's calling me a sore thumb. Not the way a newcomer wants to be described.”

Mary chuckled. “I could have described the pain you cause in another part of the body, but I believe I exhibited great restraint.”

Everyone laughed, and for the first time since coming into the church, I started to relax. Although I hadn't spotted anyone who looked like Chase, I continued to scan the crowd. When Nate and Rosey stood to get seconds, I leaned close to Mary.

“Mary, do you see Ben Johnson or Martin Hatcher? Jonathon mentioned them, and I wanted to put faces with the names.”

She began to look around at the crowd. “There's Ben, sitting with Abner Ingalls.” She indicated a table on the other side of the room. “Ben's bald and has a beard.”

I spotted the man she pointed out, but he was too far away for me to see him clearly.

“Martin won't be here. He never comes to social functions. Since he's single, he eats at the restaurant quite a bit, but he's not big on church gatherings.”

I remembered Jonathon telling me that Martin had red
hair. He seemed to be the person most likely to be Terrance Chase.

A few minutes later, Nate and Rosey returned.

“Mom, you've got to try Ethel Brucker's chocolate bread pudding.” Rosey held a plate near her mother's face. “We need to get this in the restaurant. It's awesome.”

Mary smiled. “I've asked Ethel for her recipe many times. All she says is, ‘
Ach,
Mary. Family recipes must stay in the family
, ja?
'”

Mary's impression of Ethel must have been right on the mark because Rosey laughed so hard she almost choked on her food. Mary slapped her on the back and handed her a glass of water. “Sorry, honey.”

Rosey croaked out, “Don't you ever let Ethel hear you do that. She would be . . . mortified.”

“I won't. I wouldn't do anything to hurt her feelings.”

Rosey reached over and patted her mother's arm. “I know that, Mom.”

“Hello, everyone.”

I turned in my chair to see a young man and woman standing behind me. He was very good-looking, with sandy hair and a friendly face. The woman was striking, too. Blond hair and deep green eyes.

Mary smiled. “Hi, Wynter. Haven't seen you much lately.”

“Sorry,” the woman said. “I've been holed up trying to write the next great American novel.” She sighed. “It's a lot harder than I thought it would be.”

“I'll bet it's wonderful,” Rosey said.

Wynter laughed. “I'm not sure about that.”

“But I am,” the man said, wrapping his arm around Wyn
ter. “She's allowed me to read some of it, and I think it's great.”

“But what does he know?” Wynter quipped. “He writes how-to manuals about tractors.”

Everyone laughed.

Mary introduced me. “Wynter, this is Emily McClure. She's staying with Esther.”

Wynter turned her incredible eyes on me. “So you're the other Emily.”

I smiled at her. “I guess I am. But everyone calls you Wynter?”

She nodded. “It's confusing, I know. My real name is Emily. I used to work for a TV station in St. Louis, and my professional name was Wynter. I've used it so long, it seems to have stuck.”

“Well, I like it. It's nice to meet you.”

“Thank you. And this is my husband, Reuben.”

So this was Reuben King. I shook the hand he extended.

“Happy to meet you, Emily. Esther has wonderful things to say about you.”

I was surprised and touched. “She's very kind.”

Wynter smiled. “Yes, she is. And she's a very good judge of character.”

Although I appreciated her comment, I certainly didn't feel I deserved Esther's positive opinion.

“Any news about the reclamation?” Mary asked

“We have an abandoned mine outside of town that's caused some trouble,” Rosey explained to me. “Reuben is working with the Missouri Department of Natural Resources to get the mine filled and reclaim the land.”

“Really?” I knew something about the program from stories at the paper. Missouri was rife with abandoned mines. A lot of them had been coal mines, but there were also quite a few lead mines. Although some were still in operation, most of them had been forsaken when their resources played out.

“It's a rather long process,” Reuben said. “The government is very careful to keep anything toxic or dangerous from affecting the surrounding land. The goal is to fill the mine and then treat the land. Bring back the grass and trees.”

“Sounds like a great program,” I said.

“It is,” Reuben agreed.

“So now what?” Rosey asked.

“They intend to fill the space and seal the entrance Monday morning. After that, they'll begin to restore the land.”

“I'll be so glad when it's completed,” Mary said.

Wynter nodded. “All of us will breathe a sigh of relief. That mine has been nothing but trouble. Especially for Sarah and Cicely.”

Reuben looked at his wife. “Well, we'd better get back to Esther. Nice to see you all. And very nice to meet you, Emily.”

“Thank you.”

I envied Wynter. She seemed so close to the elderly Mennonite woman. Once I had my story, I'd leave this place behind. I had no plans to come back, but I had to admit I'd miss Esther.

“Oh, Emily. I almost forgot.” They started to walk away, but then Reuben stopped and came back to our table. He dug in his jeans pocket and pulled out a folded envelope. “One of the women in the kitchen found this on the counter. You're the only Emily volunteering.”

He handed me an envelope with
Emily
written on the out
side. I stared at it for a few seconds, before excusing myself from the table. There was a side exit not far from where we sat, so I opened the door and stepped into the dusk. The sun was almost down, but there was a light over the exit. I opened the envelope and pulled out a piece of paper. With trembling fingers, I opened it.

Go home, Sophie. Before it's too late.

I dropped the note as if it were on fire.

“Is everything all right?”

A small scream escaped my lips. I hadn't heard Nate follow me out the door. Before I could move, he bent down and picked up the piece of paper. He frowned after he read it. “What does this mean?” he asked. “And who is Sophie?”

Unable to come up with an explanation, I grabbed the note from his hand and shoved it back into the envelope. “I—I don't want to talk about this, Nate.”

I turned toward the door, wanting nothing more than to escape back into the crowded room where I felt safe. Nate stepped in front of me, blocking my way.

“Emily, it sounds like a warning. A serious warning. You need to explain what's going on.”

“I can't. I appreciate your concern, but you've got to trust me. This is something I can't talk about.”

Instead of moving, he stayed right where he was. “If you're in trouble, Jonathon's friend Paul is right inside. You can talk to him.”

“No.” I stared up into Nate's green eyes, full of concern for me. “I can't do that. Please, just let this go.”

“I'm sorry, but I can't.” He took a deep breath. “Look, Emily, not long ago I lost someone. He got himself into a bad situation. I should have done something. Should have stepped in. But I didn't. I decided it was his business, and I was wrong.”

“I—I'm sorry. But this isn't the same thing. Honestly.”

“Then you're going to have to explain it to me. The truth. When you're finished, I'll decide whether or not I think we need to talk to Paul.”

I could tell by the look on his face that he was serious. That he had no intention of changing his mind. “All right. But not here. It's cold and dark. I'm . . . afraid.”

At first, he looked confused. “Of me? Do you think I wrote this?”

“I don't know you, and I have no reason to trust you.”

He was quiet for a moment. “Fair enough. Let's go to one of the classrooms. One close to the main hall, if that makes you feel better.”

I nodded. “It does.”

He stepped away from the door and opened it. I went back inside, glad to be around people again. Although I was confident Nate hadn't written the note since he couldn't possibly be Chase, standing outside had made me feel . . . vulnerable. And that was something I hated more than anything else. Feeling as if I was at someone's mercy.

“Follow me,” Nate said once the door closed behind us.

He headed toward the foyer where I'd first come in. I noticed Jonathon talking to a group of kids. He was concentrat
ing on them and didn't see us walk by him. Once we were outside the community room, Nate pointed to a door on the other side of the stairs.

“Let's go in here. Most of the other classrooms are upstairs, but I think you'd feel better if we stayed down here.”

I didn't confirm his suspicions, but he was right. I wasn't really afraid of Nate, but the note made me nervous. Who was writing these things? And why?

We went into the empty classroom, and Nate closed the door. Chairs were arranged in a circle in the middle of the room. I slumped down into one of them, and Nate sat down on the other side of the circle, facing me.

“Okay, now tell me what's going on. Why would someone care if you're trying to uncover your family history? Was your family involved in something . . . dangerous?”

“No, it has nothing to do with my family.” I stared at him, trying to figure out what to say and what to keep to myself.

“Tell me the truth, Emily. If you don't . . .”

“I know, I know. You'll pull Paul Gleason into this, and I'm just not ready for that.” I took a deep breath and let it out slowly while I considered my options. In the end, I decided on partial truth. “Here's the deal. I'm actually a reporter trying to find a criminal I think might be hiding out in Sanctuary. I'm not sure he's here, but if he is, it would be one of the biggest stories of the year. It would make my career. I have no idea who sent this note, but they're not going to hurt me. They just want to . . . derail my story.” I crossed my arms. “And that's all there is to it.”

He frowned. “So your name really is . . . Sophie?”

“Yeah. Sophie Bauer. I'm with the
St. Louis Times
.”

He shook his head. “Just when I think I understand this place, something weird happens. Who else knows who you are?”

“Jonathon and Esther Lapp. They both know the truth, and neither one of them plans to tell Paul Gleason anything . . . yet. I need you to do the same. If Paul found out Terrance Chase might be hiding out in Sanctuary, he'd go after him, and my story would be ruined. I need to have some solid evidence before I contact him, and I don't yet. In fact, Chase might not be here at all.” Although I said it, I didn't believe it. I hoped Nate would.

Nate's eyebrows shot up. “Terrance Chase? The guy who robbed the armored car company?”

“Yes. How do you know about him?”

“I'm from Missouri. It was a big story when it happened, but I also saw a special on TV a while back. The police looked everywhere for him and . . . some other guy. I can't remember his name. But aren't both of the robbers dead?”

“Well, almost everyone thinks so.”

“But you think he's here? In Sanctuary?”

I shrugged. “I'm not sure, but I have to find out. I know he was headed here at one time. It's possible he never made it, but I'm trying to uncover the truth.” I tried to sound nonchalant, but the note had frightened me. Someone knew who I was. This time they'd used my real name. I knew it wasn't written by Esther or Jonathon. The printing matched the first note—block letters with nothing unusual that could point to the writer. Plain white paper without any kind of watermark or design. Whoever penned these warnings was making sure there wasn't anything about them I could use to track their origin.

“That doesn't make sense,” he said. “Why would someone who took that much money hang out in Sanctuary? I'd be long gone. Might even go to another country.”

“It might be a little hard to get out of the country with so many people looking for you. Look, I'm not sure if he's here or not, but I have to find out. If you bring Paul into this, he'll handle it like any official investigation. If Chase
is
in Sanctuary, it will scare him off, and we may lose him forever. And if Chase doesn't get away, and is arrested, the story isn't mine anymore. Trust me, if I find him, the first thing I'll do is call Paul. Then, before anyone else gets it, I'll write my story and turn it in.”

“But how do you intend to find him? Do you know what he looks like?”

I rattled off a quick description of Chase. Coloring, height, even the cleft in his chin. “I've seen photos. If I can get close enough to look at the men who
might
be Chase, it's possible I'll be able to end the mystery of what happened to him after the robbery.”

“Okay, I understand what you're saying.” He pointed to the envelope in my hand. “But what about this? Who do you think wrote it?”

“I don't know. Look, whatever it means, I'll be fine. Jonathon is keeping a close watch on me. I'm not in any danger.”

Nate studied me a moment. “Is this the only warning you've gotten?”

“Yes,” I lied. “Please, you've got to keep this to yourself, Nate. I'm serious. The only way for me to figure out who sent it is to keep the upper hand. Keep the lid on my
investigation. If the truth gets out, things will spiral out of control fast.”

He was quiet for a moment, but finally he nodded. “Okay, I'll keep your secret. For now. But on one condition.”

I raised my eyebrows and stared at him. “And what's that?”

“You keep me updated on . . . everything. I want to know where you're going, what you've found out . . . and if you're threatened again.” He raised his hand toward me when I started to protest. “No. That's it, Emily . . . I mean, Sophie. That's my arrangement. If you don't agree, I go straight to Paul. Immediately. I'm not going to stand by and see you get yourself hurt. The only reason I'm not doing that now is because Jonathon knows what's going on. He doesn't seem like the kind of person who would allow you to get yourself into a dangerous situation.”

There was nothing I could do but nod. One more person who knew the truth. Things were unraveling fast. I needed to find Chase before it became impossible, before my cover was completely blown. I wondered if other investigative reporters went through situations like this. If so, I had even more respect for them.

“What are your plans after the dinner?” Nate asked.

“Jonathon and I are going to the church. I need to get some names from the church records they keep in the basement. I—I'm trying to complete my list of possible suspects.”

“So Jonathon will be with you the entire time?”

“Yes, the entire time.”

“I'm going to keep my eye on you,” he said in a serious tone. “I don't want you to venture out alone, okay?”

Two people in one day who'd promised to watch over me.
Great.“Really, Nate. I don't even know you, and you've appointed yourself my personal bodyguard. Don't you think that's a little weird?”

He looked down at the floor. “Maybe,” he said finally, “but if I'd been more watchful over my . . . friend, he would still be alive.”

I leaned back in my chair. “You forced me to tell you my secret. Now you're going to have to tell me yours. Who was this guy?”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “Just someone I knew. Someone I cared about.” His gaze strayed to the ceiling. “Sorry, but I can't talk about it.”

His voice cracked, and I realized he was still traumatized by whatever had happened. “I'm sorry,” I replied quickly. “You don't have to tell me. But if you want to talk, I'm here. You'd be surprised how much I understand about loss.”

“All right. Thanks.” Nate stood up. “Let's get you back to the community room before someone thinks I kidnapped you.”

I stood up and started for the door, but before I opened it, I turned back to look at him. “Thank you for keeping my secret. Finding this man is more important than I can say. And not just because it will make me famous. He's a very bad man.”

Nate looked at me strangely. “I was beginning to wonder if that meant anything to you. If the guards who died were important . . .”

I nodded. “They are. I know sometimes I get focused on what catching this guy will do for my career, but I realize finding him is even more important to the families of the guards.”

“I'm glad to hear you say that. You're obviously a good person, Sophie.”

“Not many people would agree with you about that. And please don't call me Sophie in public, okay?”

“Okay.”

I walked out of the room with Nate following behind me. As we made our way toward the community room, someone called my name. We stopped and turned around. Jonathon was walking toward us, and he didn't look happy.

“I've been looking for you two everywhere,” he said. “Where did you go?”

“We . . . we needed to get away from the noise,” I said quickly. “Just taking a break.”

Jonathon came up to us and looked back and forth between Nate and me. He seemed upset, and I assumed it was because he hadn't known where I was.

“Did something happen?” I asked. “I thought everyone had been helped.”

“No, everything's fine.” Without saying another word, he walked away.

“That was odd,” I said softly.

Nate laughed. “It's not that odd. He obviously likes you.”

I didn't respond to his comment. “Let's get back. Maybe we can help serve dessert.”

“My feet are starting to hurt,” Nate grumbled. “I don't think I'll ever be a waiter.”

“Believe it or not, I used to work as a waitress. Obviously, I've gotten out of shape.”

We went back to the community room and spent the next two hours fetching drinks, desserts, and picking up dishes.
By the time everyone left, my legs were stiff and sore. I sat down in one chair and put my feet up on another. Nate came over and slumped down next to me.

“I think I know how I'm going to feel when I'm eighty,” he said. “And it isn't good.”

I shook my head. “Not good at all.”

Jonathon walked up to us. “You two look beat. Can't keep up?” His good mood seemed restored, and I was relieved. I hadn't meant to upset him.

“Hey, don't hassle the help,” Nate said. “We almost ran our feet off.”

Jonathon smiled. “You'd better start heading home,” he said to Nate. “You've got a long way to go.”

Nate turned to me. “He thinks he's funny. I'm staying in a room downstairs.”

“To be honest, even that sounds too far away right now.”

Nate stood up slowly. “You're right about that. Might as well get it over with. If I don't show up in the morning, you might send someone to see if I'm still alive.”