SummerHill Secrets, Volume 1 (7 page)

I began to run. Faster…faster. If I could keep up this pace, I might make it home without being seen. My leg muscles ached.
I can’t slow down,
I told myself.

Sucking in short breaths of air, I pushed forward, harder and faster. The edge of our front yard was within reach. I forced my legs to keep moving, ignoring the throbbing pain in my thighs.

The singing was clear and strong now. My feet pounded the dirt road. No willows to hide me now.

The songs grew louder as the clip-clop of horses and the rattle of the hay wagon rang in my ears. Glancing over my shoulder, I judged the distance without stopping. Then my eyes caught something across the street. Someone—a dark, menacing shadow—crouched behind the bushes!

My heart pounded. Fear stuck in my throat. But a surge of energy propelled me across the side yard toward the gazebo behind our house. I made a dive under it, hiding there till the laughter and the songs slowly died away.

Meow!

I jumped as Abednego nuzzled my face in the dark space under the gazebo. “Oh, it’s you, little boy,” I said, still panting hard. I crawled out quickly and brushed the dirt off my jeans. Relieved but out of breath, I fished for the house key in my pocket.

Suddenly, I heard footsteps coming up the side yard toward me. My hand went stiff in my jeans pocket. I tried to pull the key out, but my fingers stuck clumsily in the fabric. Gasping for air, I panicked, only a few yards from the safety of my home.

“Help!” I shouted.

“Mistress Merry, you’ll wake the dead!”

I spun around. “Jonathan Klein, you scared me silly!” I almost hugged him, I was so relieved. “Where’d
you
come from? Why’d you hide in the bushes like that?”

He shoved his hands into the pockets of his blue winter jacket, looking confused. “Questions, questions,” he said. “What are you doing out here?”

I ignored his question. “Are you saying you weren’t hiding out front just now?”

“You know me better than that.”

“But I saw someone hiding…I thought it was you!”

“I would never try to scare you like that, Merry. I saw you running toward your house, that’s all—just jumped off to say hi.”

I looked around him, worried about whoever—whatever—it was I’d seen out front. “He’s probably still out there.”

“Who’s out
where
?”

I pulled the house key out of my pocket. “Quick, we have to get inside! Someone’s out front, hiding in the bushes.”

“You’re not making sense, Merry,” he said. “I didn’t see anyone.”

“C’mon.” I unlocked the back door. “I’ll prove it to you.” Without another word, I dashed to the dark living room and peered through the window curtains. I scanned the bushes with my eyes. Nothing!

“He was just there,” I said, pointing.

Jon crept up behind me. “Are you sure it wasn’t a moon shadow or something?”

“You don’t believe me?” I shot back. “I know I saw someone over there.”

“Sure, show me the shady, shaggy stranger,” he said, starting up his alliteration routine.

“It’s not funny,” I retorted.

“Say that with all
f
’s.”

“I’m not playing your game, Jon. I mean it.”

Slowly, he turned and headed for the kitchen. I followed him and flicked on the tiny stove light. “I’m glad you’re here.” I felt Rachel’s clothes still hidden inside my jacket.

“I can’t stay,” he reminded me. “I have to catch up with the hayride. The group was going to stop down the lane for a quick hike.” He stopped talking and smiled like some terrific idea had struck. “Hey, why don’t you come along?”

“I would, but—” I couldn’t leave Lissa with some stranger lurking around.

Jon leaned closer. “But what?” I smelled a slight hint of his peppermint gum.

“Please stay here till Skip gets back.”

“I’ll have to walk all the way into town if I don’t catch up with the group,” he insisted, heading for the back door.

“I’ll get Skip to drive you,” I offered.

He suddenly seemed shy. “I shouldn’t be here anyway.”

“Skip’ll understand when he comes home. I’ll tell him what I saw.”

“Really, Merry, I think you’ll be fine. Just keep the doors locked.” He smiled, running his long fingers though his hair. “Guess I’ll see you later.”

It was no use. Jonathan didn’t understand. And I couldn’t explain my real fear—that maybe the tall shadow out there was Lissa’s father. With a quick wave good-bye, Jon opened the back door and left.

Alone again, I groped my way through the dark hallway to the front door, shivering with fright. I didn’t dare turn on the lights.

I remembered what Rachel said about the Amish always keeping their doors open as I gripped the lock, double checking it. Satisfied it was secure, I peeked out once again. Maybe Jon was right. Maybe the moon had played a trick on me.

Feeling better, I headed upstairs, pulling Rachel’s Amish clothes out of my jacket. I found Lissa staring at one of the pictures on my wall gallery. When I came in the room, she turned away, reacting as though she’d been caught. “I…uh, didn’t mean to—”

“Go ahead, it’s okay,” I said.

She moved back to look at the photo of the flower-strewn gravestone. Leaning closer, she read the words, “ ‘Faith Hanson, precious daughter and dear sister, in heaven with our Lord.’ ” Lissa stood silent for a moment. “Was your sister sick long?”

“Not long.” I kept the Amish clothes hidden behind my back.

She turned away from the wall to look at me. “How’d you handle it when you knew your twin was dying?”

A lump grew in my throat, but I forced it down. “It was hard for all of us. Really hard.”

“Did you cry a lot?” Her gaze penetrated me.

Uncomfortable, I looked away. “Mother cried enough for all of us,” I said, avoiding the question. The truth was I’d never let myself cry about Faithie.

Lissa limped past the picture of the gravestone to more of my photography—Amish windmills, water pumps, and landscapes. There was even a picture of the playground at the Amish school, without the children. I’d always respected their wishes by not photographing the Amish, unlike some tourists who had been known to stalk young Plain children, bribing them for a snapshot.

I was relieved that Lissa didn’t say anything more about crying for Faithie. Glancing out my window, I peeked through the side of the curtain. Slowly, I surveyed the area below. That’s when I saw the tall gray shadow emerge from the bushes. It was a policeman, and he was motioning to someone.

Quickly, another policeman appeared, coming around the corner and across Strawberry Lane toward the house.

“Lissa!” I called.

Startled, she jerked her head. “What?”

“Quick! Kill the lights.” I waved her to the window. “Two policemen!”

Terror filled her eyes as she scrambled to the lamp beside my bed. In the darkened room, we stared through the curtains, scarcely breathing.

Lissa gasped. “That’s my dad! I know it is…and his partner, Officer Rhodes, he’s the other one…the big guy.”

I could hardly breathe, let alone think. “That’s the cop who questioned me this afternoon,” I muttered. “Why’s he back?”

Then I remembered the strange way he’d looked at Lissa’s yellow ribbon on Abednego’s neck. What if Mr. Vyner had described what he’d last seen his daughter wearing?

Lissa grabbed my arm. “What’ll we do? They’re going to take me back home!”

I pulled her into the closet, the Amish clothes still draped over my arm. “I’m going to help you escape.” I flicked on the light. “See this?” I held up the green dress and long black apron. “It’s your way out of here.”

She reached to touch the dress, then her hand sprang back. “Ee-ew! It’s disgusting.”

I began to unfasten the Velcro on the front. “You’ll get used to it.”

She shot a weak smile through her tears. Then the doorbell rang. Lissa grabbed the dress. “I’ll wear it, disgusting or not.” And she began to undress.

Br-ring!

I opened the closet door to answer the phone, but Lissa pulled me back. “You can’t!”

“It could be my parents,” I said. “They’ll worry if no one answers.”

“And it could be a trick.” Lissa’s white, fearful face said it all.

The phone rang a second time. Lissa struggled with the Velcro on the dress as I counted the rings under my breath. Finally, I couldn’t take it any longer. “What if Skip’s calling?”

“Let it ring,” Lissa insisted. She held up the black apron. “Which way does this thing go?”

“Here,” I said, positioning it against her as she slipped her arms through the openings. My fingers trembled as I attached the apron with pins. “You’re almost ready. I’ll fix your hair.” I hurried to my dresser in the darkness.

“It doesn’t matter what my hair looks like,” she wailed.

Back inside the closet, I parted Lissa’s hair down the middle and pushed it into a quick bun, securing it with three hair clips. “Now you’re Plain.”

The phone kept ringing.

I was dying to answer it. “How do we know it’s the police?” I said. “Besides, if it’s my parents, they could help us!”

Lissa’s mouth pinched up like she was disgusted. “You couldn’t say anything on the phone anyway. The phone lines might already be tapped.”

Maybe she was right. But right or not, the ringing phone made me feel uneasy. And very homesick to talk to my parents!

Suddenly, I heard Skip’s voice. “Merry! Are you home?”

I flung open the closet door and ran across the bedroom to the locked outer door. “I’m up here,” I called down the steps, never so delighted to hear his voice.

“Will you
please
answer the phone?” he asked. “We’ve got company again.”

I knew he meant he was talking to the cops. Scurrying to the hall phone, I picked it up. “Hello?”

“Hello, Merry. I thought you’d never answer.” It was Miss Spindler.

“Uh, we’re sort of busy right now,” I said. Miss Spindler’s nickname was Old Hawk Eyes. She made it her duty to keep close tabs on things in the neighborhood. Seemed to me she had it down to a near science!

I could hear Officer Rhodes’ voice downstairs. There was another voice, too. I clenched my teeth, remembering the voice from the phone call this afternoon. Lissa’s father! He was right here—inside my house!

Old Hawk Eyes’ scratchy voice continued, “I see police cars parked around the side of your house, Merry.”

“You do?”

“Oh dear, it looks like—”

“What?” I interrupted. “What do you see?”

“More police,” she moaned. “Oh, horse feathers! They’re surrounding your house!”

“How many?”

“Well…” She hesitated, as though counting. “I saw at least two at your front door a while ago, but now there are two more behind your house. What in this wide world is going on?”

“Thanks for calling, Miss Spindler,” I said abruptly. “Thank you
very
much.”

“But, Merry—”

“I’m sorry, Miss Spindler, I have to go now.” I hung up. Thank the Lord for nosy neighbors!

There was no time to waste.

Downstairs, the muffled voices grew louder. Then, unexpectedly, I heard my name mentioned. If a search warrant was involved, the police would be checking the upstairs room any second!

I flew down the hall to the bedroom and tore into the closet. Cramming the black Amish bonnet down on Lissa’s head, I noticed with relief that her bottom lip was nearly back to normal. “Follow me and don’t make a sound,” I whispered.

Lissa’s lips quivered as she nodded.

“You’ll need this heavy wool shawl.” I snatched it up as we left the room.

“Where are you taking me?”

I pressed my finger to my lips as a wide-eyed Lissa tiptoed slowly behind me toward the back steps.

“Merry!” It was Skip again. “Get down here.”

I cast a silent warning signal to Lissa as we descended the back stairs leading to the dark kitchen. With my hand gripping her tiny wrist, I peered through the window in the back door.

Two policemen were standing across the yard near the gazebo, probably waiting in case Lissa came running out.

One glance at my friend’s tear-filled eyes gave me the courage I needed.

“Here’s what you do,” I whispered. “Head for the Zooks’ farm. Walk slowly—try not to limp, and no matter what, keep your bonnet on. If anyone questions you, look down, act shy.” I hugged her quickly.

She clung to me. “Aren’t you coming?”

“Wait for me in the willow grove. You can’t miss it,” I said. “You’ll be well hidden there.”

She clasped her hands tightly. “Merry, I’m scared to death.”

“Remember what I said.” I felt the tension, the stubbornness in my jaw. I was determined to take care of her, to rescue her from the abuse. If I could just get her to the safety of my Amish neighbors until my parents returned!

I took a deep breath and casually opened the back door. “See you tomorrow!” I called, pretending she was Rachel Zook.

Lissa waved back, cooperating with my little scheme.

Slowly, I closed the door, silently praying for her safety. And for forgiveness, too, for this deceitful play-acting.

I heard voices down the hall. My heart pounded as I hurried to the living room.

“What took so long, Mer?” Skip asked when I came in.

I sat beside him. “Miss Spindler’s worried silly about us. She saw the squad cars. That’s why she called.” I looked at the policemen sitting on the love seat.

Officer Rhodes studied me with his piercing gray eyes. “Heard anything more from Lissa?”

“She hasn’t called here,” I said without lying.

I noticed the other policeman, Lissa’s father. His face looked grim, though his lips were framed by a bushy mustache. His bloodshot eyes, small and pouched, reminded me of a sick bullfrog’s. I saw a ripple in his nose. How had it been busted? In a drunken brawl?

Officer Rhodes introduced him, but instead of offering to shake hands like a gentleman, Lissa’s father rubbed his thick hands together. If I hadn’t known better, I’d have thought
he
was the one on trial here.

“I believe we’ve met,” he said, nodding his froggy head. He squeezed his sausage fingers into tight fists, like he was itching to get them on his daughter. No telling what he’d do if he found her!