Chapter
Three

I spent the rest of the afternoon sitting at the desk in my old bedroom, talking to the police department in Kansas City. Janet had given me some numbers to call, but it still took a while to find the right person. After being transferred more than once, I was finally connected to a very kind woman who worked with the Department of Children and Families. She informed me that Cicely had been placed in emergency foster care. When she said the words foster care, a chill ran through me. But the woman assured me this was one of their best homes and that Cicely was doing as well as could be expected. After telling her who I was, she promised they would work with me. Although she couldn’t give me Cicely’s number, she told me she’d arrange to have someone call me. About an hour later, the phone rang. It was the woman who had provided Cicely emergency shelter. She introduced herself as Cora Anderson.

“She’s in shock,” Cora said. “I’m doing my best to comfort her. Tomorrow morning she’ll see a counselor. He’ll assess her emotional condition.” She sighed. “She may need some follow-up help after she leaves here. She discovered her mother’s body, you know. I can’t imagine how that feels.”

A picture of blood and orchids flashed through my mind, and my stomach turned over.

“I appreciate everything you’re doing to help her,” I said. “I’m working with the Department of Children and Families to clear the way for me to bring her home.”

“I hope you won’t have any trouble,” Cora said slowly. “It would help to have something that mentions Hannah’s wishes.”

“She asked me to be responsible for Cicely if something ever happened to her, but I don’t have anything in writing.”

“Can you prove you’re Cicely’s aunt?”

“I suppose our birth certificates would prove Hannah and I are sisters. And Cicely knows me. Shouldn’t that count for something?”

“Of course. But you’ll have to work through DCF. There’s nothing I can do to help you. I’m sorry.”

“I just want to get her home so I can take care of her.”

“I know,” Cora said. “Hopefully it won’t take long. Here she is now.”

I heard Cora talking softly, and then Cicely got on the phone.

“Aunt Sarah?”

The pain in her voice made my heart drop. “Yes, honey. I’m here.”

“Are you coming to get me?”

“Yes, I am. There are some things I have to do first, but I’ll get them taken care of as quickly as I can. The people in Kansas City want to be certain you’ll be safe with me.”

“Try not to take too long, okay? Cora is very nice, but I don’t know these people.”

“I understand, sweetheart. You just hold on. I’m sure it won’t be long.”

“Am I going to live with you?”

“Actually, my friend Janet has asked us to live with her. Do you remember her big house? You’ll have your own room. There’s lots of space here.”

“I like Janet,” she said slowly. “And Murphy too. My mom wanted us to have a dog, but we couldn’t because she wasn’t home enough.”

I found myself nodding like an idiot. As if Cicely could see me. “Murphy will be very happy to see you. He’s crazy about you.” At that moment I wanted to hug Murphy’s neck—along with all the other dogs and cats that had the ability to fill a void in a child’s life like nothing else could. Animals were one of God’s miracles. Unlimited love and understanding all wrapped up in a furry body.

“Someone killed my mother,” Cicely said suddenly, as if she’d just realized it.

“I know. I’m so sorry. But you’re not alone, Cicely. I’m here, and I’ll take care of you. I promise. Okay?”

There was a long silence on the other end before she whispered, “Okay.”

I so badly wanted to be with her right at that moment, but all I could do was work through the process the state had set in place to protect children. It was a blessing as well as a curse, but it was necessary.

I told Cicely to give the phone back to Cora. Then I asked Cora to allow Cicely to call me whenever she wanted to.

“Of course,” she said. “And I’ll phone you after her appointment in the morning. Do you have any idea when you’ll get here?”

“Not yet. I want to make sure I have everything I need before I arrive. Shouldn’t be too long though. I want to bring Cicely home as soon as possible.”

“I understand. Please don’t worry. I’ll take good care of her.”

“Thank you, Cora. Good foster parents are worth their weight in gold. I know that from firsthand experience.”

“You were in the system?”

“Yes. Some of it was good, but a lot of it was awful.”

She sighed. “I’m sorry. We’re working hard to make it better for all the children, but bad parents slip in sometimes because the need is so great.”

I thanked her again, and we said good-bye. I breathed a prayer of gratitude to God that He’d sent Cicely to Cora. Now I needed to get all the paper work together that DCF needed, talk to the police, and plan Hannah’s funeral. I was trying to figure out how I could possibly get everything done when I heard the doorbell ring downstairs. A couple of minutes later, Janet knocked on the bedroom door and then opened it.

“It’s Jonathon,” she said. “He’s come to check on you.”

Jonathon Wiese was the pastor of my church, Agape Fellowship. Although I didn’t really feel like seeing anyone right then, I knew talking to Jonathon would probably help me. He seemed to always know what to say in certain situations. Since he’d come to Sanctuary a few years earlier and become our pastor, his ministry had blessed me many times. Next to Janet, he knew me better than anyone else, and he was aware of my history.

“Okay.” I stood up but swayed a little. Janet ran over and grabbed my arm.

“You poor thing. You need some rest,” she said. “You’re so busy worrying about Cicely, you’re not getting the time you need to deal with this yourself.”

“I’ll be fine. To be honest, having Cicely to think about is a big help. It makes me focus on her instead of Hannah.”

“I understand that. But you still have to take care of yourself, Sarah. If you won’t do it for yourself, then do it for Cicely. She needs you to be strong.”

I nodded. “Okay. Thanks.”

“Let’s get you downstairs. I’ll fix you a cup of tea.”

“That sounds wonderful.”

She followed me down the stairs, probably afraid I was too shaky to make it down alone. I had to admit that I felt a little weak. Grief over Hannah’s death had left me numb except for a queasy feeling in the pit of my stomach. I couldn’t shake the idea that if I could throw up I’d feel better. It didn’t make any sense, but the thought wouldn’t go away.

When I walked into the living room, I found Jonathon sitting on the couch. He stood up when he saw me.

“Thank you for coming, Pastor,” I said.

He came over and took my hands in his. “Of course,” he said. “I’m so sorry, Sarah. What can I do to help?”

Jonathon was in his early thirties and unmarried. Although an unmarried pastor wouldn’t be accepted at Sanctuary Mennonite Church, his election as pastor had been unopposed at Agape. He’d been the assistant pastor until our head pastor, Pastor Barker, moved away. Jonathon’s sincerity and knowledge of the Bible made him the only logical choice. He was very careful around the single women in our church and avoided dating. That wasn’t to say there weren’t quite a few young ladies in Sanctuary who were interested. Jonathon was very handsome, with dark hair and intense blue eyes.

“I’m making Sarah a cup of tea, Pastor,” Janet said. “Can I get you anything? Tea? Coffee?”

“A cup of coffee would be great. If it’s not too much trouble.”

She smiled at him. “Not at all. I’ll be right back.”

I pointed to the couch. “Please, Pastor. Sit down.” I took a seat in a nearby chair. “I don’t know that you can do anything except keep us in prayer. Right now I’m trying to make arrangements to bring my niece to Sanctuary.”

“I remember meeting Cicely a few months ago when she and her mother were in town,” Jonathon said. “I can’t imagine what she’s going through.” He clasped his hands together and leaned forward. “But I guess you can, can’t you?”

Tears sprang to my eyes, and I tried unsuccessfully to blink them away. “Some of it, yes. I was younger than Cicely when my parents were killed, so I don’t remember much. Cicely is ten. She’ll probably have more to deal with than I did. Finding her mother like that . . .” My voice trailed off. I couldn’t say anything else. It was too horrific to think about. I dabbed at the tears that fell down my cheeks.

“She’ll need a lot of understanding, Sarah. If I can do anything to help her, I’m more than willing. I’m here for both of you. Please call me anytime. Talking things out can make a difference. Many people make the mistake of thinking they can just ignore the pain and ‘get over it.’ But grief doesn’t work like that. You have to acknowledge it.”

“I’m afraid there’s not much time to grieve, Pastor. Maybe after I get Cicely home . . .”

Jonathon shook his head. “Sarah, have you ever heard the expression, ‘Feelings buried alive never die’?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

“It means we have to find a way to deal with our feelings, because they don’t just go away. Burying them will only cause problems in other areas.”

“That makes a lot of sense. I’ll work on that.”

He smiled at me. “Don’t turn it into work, Sarah. Just allow yourself to grieve. And if you need a shoulder to cry on, I’m here.”

“Thank you.”

He sighed and leaned back. “Forgiving the person who did this will be one of the hardest things you’ll ever do.”

I could almost feel my heart harden inside my chest. “Right now that’s not even on my mind. I’m concentrating on Cicely. Maybe I’ll never know who killed my parents, but I want this animal arrested. If not for me, for Cicely. She shouldn’t have to spend the rest of her life wondering what happened. Wondering why.”

Jonathon was quiet for a moment. Frankly, I was surprised at the sudden rush of emotion I felt. I’d tried so hard to put my parents’ murders behind me. Hannah’s face suddenly floated into my mind.

“I may have uncovered something about the people who killed Mom and Dad, Sarah,” she’d said during her last visit. “It’s possible I’m close to finding out what really happened.”

I’d listened politely to everything she told me, but I couldn’t allow myself to go down that road again. I had no desire to revisit the confusion and hurt that had followed me for years. Besides, how could Hannah solve murders that the police in Kansas City couldn’t crack? It didn’t make sense. Nor did the information she’d collected. A bunch of loose facts that didn’t fit together. No solid evidence. Even Hannah admitted she didn’t understand it all. Sensing my lack of interest, she’d changed the subject, but I could tell she was hurt that I hadn’t been receptive.

“The Bible tells us that God will fight for us,” Jonathon said gently, bringing me back to the present. “Let Him take care of whoever did this.”

“I don’t have much of a choice, Pastor.”

At that moment Janet came back into the room with coffee for Jonathon and a cup of hot tea for me. We thanked her, and I quickly picked up my cup. For some reason having something to hold on to made me feel better. After casting a concerned look my way, Janet left the room.

Jonathon took a sip of coffee and put his cup down on the coffee table. “You may have some unresolved feelings about what’s happened. If you do, it’s perfectly normal. Please don’t suppress it. God can handle your anger. He’s not upset with you. He wants you to be free, because He loves you.”

“I’m trying to stay calm. I keep reminding myself that just because the police didn’t catch the man who murdered my parents doesn’t mean they won’t find the killer this time. In fact, maybe they already have that person in custody.” I sighed. “Thinking that way helps me some. I really do want to see the murderer punished, Pastor. I can’t help it. Being raised Mennonite, you probably find the idea of retribution offensive.”

He smiled. “Mennonites believe in justice, Sarah. They just don’t believe in vengeance meted out from the hands of men.”

“I wish I could be like that, but I guess I’m just not as perfect as you.” My comment sounded rude, but I hadn’t meant it that way.

Jonathon raised his eyebrows in surprise. “I’m not perfect.” He stared down at the floor for a moment. “I’m going to tell you something I’ve never told anyone in Sanctuary except the elders in our church. I shared it with them because I felt they had the right to know.” He took a long, deep breath. “I almost shot a man once. Thankfully, I didn’t have to. But I was ready to do it.”

To say I was shocked was an understatement. This friendly, quiet, unassuming man had pointed a gun at someone? “But you lived as a Conservative Mennonite before you came here.”

“Well, I looked like a Mennonite, and I went to a conservative church, but obviously I wasn’t living by all the principles.”

“Can I ask why you wanted to shoot that man?”

“Yes, you may. I was afraid he was going to kill the woman I loved. I raised my gun to protect her.”

“Did she live?”

“Yes. Someone else took the shot before I did.”

“So someone else saved her life?”

He nodded.

“Are you grateful to that person for protecting her?”

“I’m grateful she lived, but I’m also glad her attacker survived. If I’d shot him, I believe I would have killed him.” He sighed. “Believe me, when I was caught up in that moment, wounding him was not my intention. I still have to face that every day. Don’t get me wrong. I know I’m forgiven. I don’t feel guilty anymore, but that incident showed me what I’m capable of. It forced me to take a hard look at myself. In the end, I decided I had to start trusting God to protect me and those I love.”

“You said you loved that woman, yet you’re still single.”

He nodded again. “Yes. She married someone else.”

“But . . . but you were willing to kill to protect her. Why isn’t she with you?” I suddenly realized how personal my question was. “I’m sorry, Pastor,” I said quickly. “That’s none of my business.”

He smiled. “It’s all right, Sarah. I don’t mind. She married a man who would have died before going against what he believed. I wasn’t as strong as he was . . . then. But I believe I am now.”

“What does your story have to do with me?”

“It has to do with making wrong choices for the right reasons. In the next few weeks, you might begin to feel incredible rage toward the person who killed your sister. With your past, there could still be unresolved feelings about your parents. I hope you’ll deal with those feelings honestly and not keep them locked inside. You and Cicely will need to heal. Just remember, exposing a wound to the air brings healing faster than covering it up.” He stood up. “Look, I’ve taken enough of your time. But please consider what I’ve said. Let God bring justice. You work on restoration—and forgiveness. It will be very important in the upcoming days.”

“I’ll think about it, Pastor,” I said softly. “Maybe there is some unresolved anger inside me because I’ve lost so much.”

Jonathon came over and put his hand on my shoulder. “God’s in the healing business, Sarah. Just rest your burden on His shoulders. He’s willing to carry it.”

“I’ll try. Thank you.”

Jonathon smiled. “I believe some of the women in town will be bringing food by. Both churches are getting together to help.”

Fresh tears stung my eyes. “That’s so nice.”

“People want to let you know you’re loved. They truly care about you.”

As if someone were listening to our conversation, the doorbell rang.

“I’ll walk you to the door,” Jonathon said. “I need to get back to the church.”

I nodded and we both headed toward the door as the bell rang again. Janet came into the room from the kitchen.

“It’s okay,” I told her. “I’m already on the way.”

I swung the door open and found Jeremiah standing there, his eyes wide. He looked back and forth between Jonathon and me.

“I . . . I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bother you,” he said, staring at me. “I . . . I just wanted to tell you . . . I mean, I’m sorry about your sister. My mother is bringing a casserole by later.”

Jonathon greeted Jeremiah and then said good-bye to both of us. I waited until he’d walked down the steps before addressing Jeremiah.

“That’s so considerate of your mother,” I said. “Please tell her how much I appreciate it.” I pointed toward the living room. “Would you like to come in?”

He shook his head. “No. Mama said not to keep you. We were over at the post office, and Mr. Bakker said you had mail. He let me bring it to you so you wouldn’t have to go over and pick it up.”

He handed me the stack of mail in his hand, and I thanked him. Before I could say anything else, he turned and almost ran down the steps.

I closed the door and leaned against it, praying that no one else would visit today. I needed some time to myself. For some reason my legs felt like rubber.

Janet came into the room and saw me. “Sarah, you’re exhausted. Come here and sit down on the couch. I’ll make you another cup of tea.”

“Thank you.” I managed a small smile. “You’d better start clearing out space in the refrigerator and freezer. I understand the women of Sanctuary have taken to their stoves.”

“Oh, for land’s sake,” Janet said. “We’re going to be drowning in fried chicken and strudel.”

As she hurried off to prepare her kitchen for the onslaught, I plopped down on the couch. Immediately Murphy jumped up next to me. I stroked the golden retriever’s soft fur and then began to riffle through the mail. When I read the return address on one of the envelopes, disbelief flooded my body like an electric shock, and I cried out for Janet. She came running in from the kitchen, her eyes round with alarm.

“What in the world?” she said when she saw me. “You’re as white as a ghost.”

I held out the envelope. “It . . . it’s a letter. From Hannah.”

“What?” Janet took the envelope from me and stared at the postmark. “It was sent Priority Mail yesterday. Oh my goodness.” She started to hand it back to me, but I waved it away.

“No. Will you read it? Please? I . . . I can’t—” A sob cut off the rest of my sentence.

Janet sat down and slowly opened the envelope. Then she pulled out the folded paper inside. “Honey, are you sure you want me to read this?” she asked.

I could only nod.

She put the envelope down on the coffee table and opened the letter. Then she took a deep breath and began to read:

“Dearest Sarah,

This past year has been the best year of my life. Finding you again was the fulfillment of a long-held dream. Reuniting with my sister is one of the greatest blessings I’ve ever had. No matter what happens in the future, I want you to know that I always loved you. And I always believed God would bring us together again.

I had to make sure you knew this because of what I’m preparing to do. Cicely and I are going away. Right now I’m not sure if I’ll ever see you again. I’ll try to contact you, but if I don’t, it’s only because I don’t want to put you in harm’s way. Please don’t worry about us. I’m taking us someplace safe. Someplace where no one will find us.

Our past has always haunted me, Sarah. Knowing that the people who killed our parents got away with it has never left me. I know you don’t really want to hear this, but I have to explain so you won’t think my leaving means I don’t love you. My search for the truth made me stick my nose in places I shouldn’t have. And now it’s blown up in my face. Random thieves didn’t murder Mom and Dad, Sarah. It was something else. Someone else. I know who it was, but I can’t tell you. You might make the same mistake I did. It’s just too dangerous. The conspiracy is huge. Much bigger than I realized. Too big for either one of us to handle.

Don’t look for us, Sarah. I mean it. You will be putting all of us in terrible danger if you do. Leave it alone. Please. Just pray for Cicely and me.

Sarah, I need you to promise me something else. Never search for Cicely’s father or look too closely at my past. I can’t stress enough how important this is. Don’t take this warning lightly. If you love me, if you love Cicely, you’ll do as I ask.

I think I can get us out of here safely, but if anything goes wrong, if something happens to me, please take care of my daughter. As I already told you, you’re the only person I trust to raise her the right way. We may have had tough childhoods, but somehow through it all, you retained your goodness and your sweet spirit. I know you’ll pass that on to Cicely and you’ll help her to become all God has created her to be. I’m counting on you, Sarah. I know you won’t let me down. I’ve made out a will stating that you are to be Cicely’s guardian. My attorney, David Rose, has a copy. His office is on 2nd Street in downtown Kansas City. His number is in the phone book. He doesn’t know anything about my plans to leave Kansas City, so asking him where I am would be pointless.

After you read this, please destroy this note. No one else is to ever see it. Especially Cicely. Raise her up with joy and love, the way Mom and Dad raised us. They were such good people, Sarah. I want you to always remember that what happened to them wasn’t their fault.

I really love you, Sarah. Please don’t be sad. We’ve been apart before, but we will never lose each other. We’ll be together again, either in this life or in the next. And someday we’ll be reunited with Mom and Dad. What a great reunion we will have!

I will love you forever.

Remember me,
Hannah”

Janet dropped the letter as if it were hot. “Oh, Sarah. What are we going to do?”

All I could do was shake my head and cry.