“Contacting the police is a big step,” Reuben said.
I’d called him first thing after I got up. He came over and had breakfast with Esther and me. Now we sat out on the front porch in Esther’s white rocking chairs, drinking coffee.
“Someone put that fudge in my room,” I said in a low voice. “Someone besides Esther. I gave it to Zac, and he got really sick.”
“But it could have been the stromboli.”
“Yes, that’s true. But where did the fudge come from? And why would someone take the box?”
He took a sip of coffee. I could tell he was turning the situation over in his mind. “You’ve got to ask Zac about it.”
“I did, but he was still groggy. He doesn’t remember eating the fudge. In fact, he doesn’t remember much at all about last night.”
“Maybe you should ask him again when he’s feeling better.”
“I will. So what do I do now?”
He shook his head. “I honestly don’t know. All we have are suspicions, coincidences, and innuendos. Nothing solid. Nothing we could turn over to anyone in an official capacity.”
“I know. I’d mark all of this down as my overactive imagination if it wasn’t for the box of fudge. That box didn’t grow legs and walk out of Zac’s room.”
“Maybe Esther forgot she gave them to you. She’s getting older. Elderly people forget things.”
I snorted. “I’m sorry. You’ve met Esther. I wish I was that sharp.”
Reuben sighed. “You’re right. I’m just trying to make sense of all this. I’m having trouble believing someone snuck into Esther’s and left poisoned fudge in your room. They’d be taking a huge chance of getting caught. How could they be sure you’d eat it? And to be honest, I can’t think of one single person in Sanctuary capable of such an act.”
“People aren’t always who they seem to be, you know. I’ve interviewed a lot of people who were sure their friend could never murder anyone or their employee wouldn’t steal from them. People hide behind masks.”
“I know that. But Sanctuary is . . . different.”
I wasn’t going to argue with him. Frankly, I understood how he felt. But towns were made up of human beings, and I knew from experience that most human beings have secrets.
“I called Randi this morning,” Reuben said. “August is gone.”
I frowned at him. “What do you mean . . . gone?”
“Gone. Randi checked out his apartment. His clothes are missing. He packed up and left.”
“Does he have a car?”
“He used to have a truck, but I think he got rid of it. The Greyhound bus stops in Barnes. All he had to do was find a way to get there. He could be anywhere by now.”
I stood up. “This gets crazier all the time.”
“You think August put that fudge in your room, don’t you?”
“It’s the only thing that makes sense. I’m pretty sure he sent me those articles, and it’s possible he also wrote the threatening note Zac found the first night we arrived. His behavior toward me has been strange ever since I got here.”
“He would have had to sneak into Esther’s, find your room, and leave the fudge without being seen. How would he know which room was yours?”
I shrugged. “It wouldn’t be hard to figure out. A quick look around would make it clear which room was mine.”
“Still, it’s just so risky.”
“I know. You said that earlier. But you people don’t believe in locked doors. He could have easily done it while we were gone yesterday. And even if Esther was home, she doesn’t hear very well. She could have been taking a nap.”
“That’s true.” He got up from his rocker and stood next to me. “But I have to wonder why he’d do that, Wynter. Why would he send you those articles, wanting you to investigate the kidnappings, and then try to harm you? And even if he did leave the fudge, for some reason I can’t fathom, why skip town before he knows if his plan worked? It doesn’t make sense. I don’t think August is responsible for this. He might have sent the clippings, but that’s it.”
“Maybe he wanted me to check into the kidnappings from St. Louis, not here. Perhaps the fudge was supposed to make me sick so I’d go home.”
“I don’t know. Still doesn’t sound right. Besides, it appears that he left early yesterday. You found the box last night.”
“He could have put the fudge in my room while we were in church.”
“You went back to Esther’s to change clothes after the service. Did you notice the box then?”
“No, but it could have been there. Maybe I missed it. I was in a hurry.”
“Maybe.” He drained the rest of the coffee. “Look, why don’t you put off talking to people this morning about your story? You can easily do it later today or tomorrow. Zac’s going to be out of action for at least a couple of days. Why don’t we drive over to Samuel’s farm and see if the Fishers are there?”
“You can’t call them?”
“I thought about it, but I couldn’t come up with a reason that wouldn’t spook them. The last thing we want is for them to leave. For now, I think it would be best if we just drove out there. They probably won’t like us showing up unannounced, but we need to find out if Nathan and his family are there without tipping them off.”
“What excuse are you going to give them for our visit? I mean, if the Fishers aren’t there?”
Reuben shrugged. “I have no idea. Maybe I’ll tell them the truth.”
“But wouldn’t they contact Nathan and tell him? We might lose them for good.”
Reuben shook his head. “We’re going to have to wing it, Wynter. I guess if I have to, I can tell them we had car trouble and need to use their phone.”
“Okay, but let me see how Zac’s doing first. And I need to call my boss. I’m hoping I can get us more time without tipping him off as to where we are.”
Reuben held out his hand. “Hand me your cup. I’ll give it to Esther while you take care of these other things.”
I’d just given him my coffee cup when I noticed a familiar car coming down the street. It took a moment for me to accept what I was seeing. My father drove up in front of Esther’s house and parked.
“Do you know this guy?” Reuben asked.
“It’s my father. I can’t imagine what he’s doing here.”
We stared at each other through his windshield as if we were locked in some kind of weird battle of wills. Finally Dad opened his car door and stepped out.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
As he came up to the porch, I was shocked by the pallor of his skin and the circles under his eyes. He looked almost exactly the way Zac had last night.
“I’ve got to talk to you, Emily.” He looked at Reuben and frowned. “Alone. And right now.”
“I don’t understand. Why—?”
“I’m not going to stand outside and discuss this,” he retorted. “Where can we go so we can be alone?”
“Is Mom okay?” As soon as the words left my mouth, I realized my father wouldn’t have any idea about my mother’s welfare. It was just a knee-jerk reaction. “What’s this about, Dad?”
For a moment, my father seemed to sway as if he were on the verge of fainting. His appearance and attitude caused my chest to tighten with fear. Could it have something to do with Ryan? Had he been found? Was he dead?
“You and your father talk inside,” Reuben said. “I’ll wait for you at the café. We’ll leave when you’re done.”
“I don’t know . . .”
Reuben took my arm. “This seems important, Wynter.”
“Okay, but I want you to stay.”
“No,” my dad said with force. “This is family business. Between you and me.”
Anger rose inside me. “You have family business, Dad? I find that funny, since family doesn’t seem to mean much to you.”
“Please, Emily . . .”
“No. Reuben is my friend. He knows all about Ryan, and I want him with me. I feel closer to him than I do to you.”
“If it makes any difference, sir,” Reuben said, “nothing you say will be repeated to anyone else. Nor will I interfere in any way with your discussion.”
My father looked as if he wanted to argue, but suddenly the fight seemed to go out of him. “Whatever. I don’t care anymore.”
“Why don’t we go inside?” Reuben said, holding open the front door.
My father walked slowly up the porch stairs and followed Reuben into Esther’s living room. She came out of the kitchen and looked surprised to see someone else with us.
I quickly introduced her to my father and then asked if we could have some time alone.
“Of course, dear,” she said. “I was on my way up to see how Zac’s feeling today. You take your time. I’ll stay upstairs until you’re finished.” She offered us a sweet smile. “Can I get anyone something to drink or eat?”
“Thanks, Esther. If we need anything, we’ll get it,” Reuben said.
She nodded. “Coffee’s still on. Just took some turnovers out of the oven. You all help yourself.”
I noticed my father staring at her, taking in her simple clothing. As far as I knew, he’d never known any Amish or Mennonite people.
“Thank you, Mrs. Lapp,” he said. “I’m sorry to put you out.”
“No trouble at all. Wynter is such a blessing to me. And please, call me Esther.”
My dad’s charm was still intact, but he’d toned it down. I was grateful. His phony persona would have been especially embarrassing in front of the elderly Mennonite woman.
We waited until Esther disappeared up the stairs. Then I sat down on the couch with Reuben. Dad sat in the rocking chair next to us. He looked as if he’d aged ten years in the last twenty-four hours. I’d had so much hope that I’d finally found Ryan. If Dad was here to tell me they’d discovered his body, it would crush me. I was grateful Reuben was by my side.
“What’s wrong with Zac?” Dad asked.
I explained that he was ill and it was probably food poisoning.
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“I don’t think you’re here to talk about Zac.”
“You’re right.” He took a deep breath. “This . . . this is very difficult for me to say.”
“Does it have something to do with Ryan?” My voice shook, but I didn’t care.
He shrugged. “I don’t know. That’s the problem. All these years, I’ve been certain that what happened to your brother had nothing to do with what I did. But now . . .” He stared at me with tears in his eyes. “Where is this boy who looks so much like my son?”
“We’re not sure. Reuben and I were on our way to find him when you got here. His family suddenly left town.”
Dad ran his hand through his hair. “You . . . you can’t let them get away. It’s possible this young man could be your brother.”
“But you always said he was dead.”
“And I was convinced of that. Until last night.”
“What are you talking about?”
My father stood up and paced back and forth in front of me. Reuben and I waited in silence until he sat down again.
“I had no plans to ever tell you this, and I certainly never wanted your mother to know. But the picture of that boy—”
“Dad, you’re scaring me. What’s going on?”
He stared down at the floor for several seconds, and then took a deep breath. When he finally looked up, I was shocked by his expression. My father was afraid. Reuben reached over and took my hand, as if he knew something awful was coming. I felt it too.
“As you know, the night you were born, your mother and I couldn’t make it to the hospital in St. Louis because of a major winter storm. We only got as far as a small rural hospital about two miles from our house.”
“I don’t understand. What does this have to do with Ryan?”
“Please, Emily. Don’t interrupt me. This is hard enough.” His eyes darted toward the front door, and for a moment, I wondered if he planned to suddenly run out like he had at the restaurant.
“When we got to the hospital, there were only a few people there. Just one nurse in obstetrics. The storm had closed roads all around, and no one could make it through.” He took another deep breath and blew it out slowly. “We were worried at first, but the nurse assured us that she could deliver our baby without any problem. There was another expectant mother there. She and her boyfriend had made it to the hospital minutes before the storm hit.”
I turned to stare at Reuben. Had my father lost his mind? Why were we talking about something that happened years before Ryan was even born?
“Your mother had a terrible time, Emily. It wasn’t the nurse’s fault. She did everything she could. When our baby was born, she was blue and not breathing. The nurse rushed her into another room to try to help her breathe.”
“What do you mean?” My voice came out in a whisper, but I couldn’t seem to speak any louder. I wasn’t certain anyone could hear me.
“Our baby died, Emily. But the other baby, also a little girl, was born healthy. The nurse told me the parents didn’t plan to keep her. They were going to put her up for adoption. That’s when we . . . we came up with a plan. At the time it seemed so right. So perfect. We would take the healthy baby, and your mother would never know the truth. She wasn’t emotionally strong, you know. There had been . . . problems. I was afraid of what would happen to her if she knew her baby had died.” He turned to look at me, his face void of emotion. “We were doing well financially. My company was growing. So I talked to the parents, offered them fifty thousand dollars for their child, which they snapped up. I also gave the nurse a large sum of money, although she didn’t ask for it. We took the other baby to your mother’s room and told her she was doing just fine. When the doctor finally arrived, the nurse told him about the baby who died and presented the living baby as ours. The doctor didn’t question it.”
I would have stood up, but I couldn’t actually feel my legs. “Are you telling me . . . ? Are you saying . . . ?”
“You’re not our biological child, Emily.” Tears ran down his face. “It never mattered one bit, you know. You’re my daughter. You were mine from the moment I held you in my arms.”
“I can’t . . . I can’t believe it.”
“I know this is hard, but you’ve got to let me finish. I need to tell you why this might have something to do with Ryan’s disappearance.” He clasped his hands together as if preparing to pray. “Everything seemed fine. Everyone was happy. Even though my heart was broken by the loss of our little girl, we had you. You were everything any parent could ever want. Eventually, I began to feel as if my baby hadn’t really died, and the feelings of grief lessened. Your mother’s mental health improved, and over the years, I lost any regrets about my decision that night. Our lives went on, and six years later we had Ryan. He was perfectly healthy. We had a happy family.”
“What about my birth mother and father?” I asked. “Did they ever contact you? Didn’t they want to see me?” I felt such a deep wound in my soul, yet these were people I’d never met. Never known.
“No, I’m sorry. I did keep track of them though. They were both killed in a motorcycle accident when you were five.”
I nodded, feeling numb and stupid, as if I couldn’t completely understand what my father was saying. My mind grasped the words, but somewhere inside, they didn’t make sense. I couldn’t seem to process them.
“When you were ten and Ryan was almost four, I got a call. It was a man who called himself Mac. He told me he knew the nurse who’d helped us. She’d recently died of cancer. But on her deathbed, she admitted to him what happened that night. She felt guilty about hiding the truth, even though she still believed she’d done the right thing. This man began to blackmail me. Threatened to call the authorities and tell them what we did. The results could have been devastating. You could have been taken away from us, and your mother . . . well, I knew she couldn’t stand the strain. It would have destroyed her. So I paid. About a year later, he called again. And I paid again. For the first time, I began to wonder if what we did was wrong. Then I’d look at you—you were so beautiful and so special—and I’d know, down deep inside, that you were always supposed to be ours.”
“Then you could have adopted me, Dad. Legally. None of this had to happen.”
“You’re wrong,” he said sadly. “Before you were born, your mother was hospitalized for a while due to severe depression. Thankfully, after you were born, she started getting better. But any attempt at adoption would have revealed the past, and we would have been denied.”
“So you kept paying this man? For how long?”
“Until I couldn’t pay him anymore. Until there wasn’t any more money. Basically, I’d given him everything I had. Even though I didn’t want to do it, I finally told him it was over. If he wanted to go the police, he’d just have to do it. But I warned him that they’d probably charge him with blackmail. The problem was, I had no idea who he was or how to find him. The only information I had was that he’d known the nurse who’d delivered you. Not much to go on.” He shook his head. “No matter what the consequences, I simply couldn’t take the strain anymore financially or emotionally. I’d started drinking, just trying to get through the day. Every morning I woke up with the fear that this might be the day I lost you—and your mother.” He rubbed his eyes. “I know there’s a hell, because I lived in it during those years.”
“That’s why you changed,” I said, more to myself than to anyone else.
“Yes, I was so stressed, I couldn’t keep it together. My drinking was supposed to numb the panic I faced every day, but it only made everything worse. In trying to protect my family, I failed you. The hurt I wanted to protect you from came anyway, and I was the instigator of it.” He met my gaze. “I’m sorry, Emily. Truly sorry.”
At that moment, I couldn’t deal with his apology. Nor could I sort through his story. I was bombarded with emotions, feelings, and thoughts that were too overwhelming to sort through. I struggled to find the one thing that mattered most. “What does this have to do with Ryan?”
He wiped his face on his sleeve. “After I refused to make any more payments, the phone calls stopped. He went away. Even though I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, it didn’t. I came to the conclusion that my threat had worked. Bringing my sins to light would also illuminate his. He was afraid and that fear had driven him away. I’d just started to believe my nightmare was over when Ryan was abducted.”
“Could this man have been behind Ryan’s disappearance? Could this be revenge for refusing to pay him?”
“That certainly crossed my mind. I’d decided to tell the police everything and let the chips fall where they may when they told me about Harland Burroughs. They were convinced he’d taken Ryan. Their evidence was so compelling, I believed them. In the end, I decided not to say anything about the blackmailer. Your mother was distraught. Her doctor told me she was close to having a complete mental breakdown. Since it seemed the man who blackmailed me had nothing to do with your brother’s kidnapping, I couldn’t add to her emotional instability.”
“But there were all kinds of discrepancies between the other children Burroughs took and Ryan. What if you were wrong?”
“Going through that, it was like my mind was frozen. I had some questions, things that didn’t make sense, but the police explained every one of them away. I went along with them because I couldn’t think. Couldn’t process what had happened. I was trying to take care of you and your mother, and that took all my energy.”
“If you cared so much about us,” I retorted, “why did you leave us? And why did you sell our home out from under us?”
The tortured look in his eyes almost took my breath away. “I sold the house because we couldn’t afford to keep it, Emily. Our money was gone, and I’d spent so much time away from my company, I lost it.”
“I thought you sold it and made a lot of money.”
He shook his head. “I didn’t make a penny. In fact, the company was in debt. I turned it over to my vice-president before we were completely ruined. He was able to turn things around and save it. I didn’t have the energy or the will to do it. Losing Ryan took every spark of ambition out of me. I went into insurance just to keep food on the table. I make enough to get by, but I don’t have the kind of money we used to have.” He ran his hand over his face. I could see the weariness in his expression.
“And I didn’t leave you, Emily. Your mother is the one who filed for divorce. It wasn’t my idea. I tried to change her mind, but she wouldn’t listen. I finally left because she told me she couldn’t stand to look at me anymore. I reminded her of Ryan. She blamed me for his kidnapping.”
I was stunned. “I don’t understand. Why would she blame you?”
A tear snaked down the side of his face. “That morning . . . that awful morning, I yelled at your brother about something so . . . so trivial. I tripped over his bike when I went out to get the paper. I’d told him time and again to put his bike up in the garage at night. But he’d forget and leave it out.” He shook his head. “I was under so much pressure. Stressed out about how I was going to keep us all afloat. I said something terrible to him. I didn’t mean it the way it came out, but the look on his face—”
“What did you say?”
“I said my life would be a lot easier if I didn’t have kids.” He covered his face with his hands, as if trying to hide from Reuben and me. When he took them down, I saw the guilt etched sharply into his features. “I know how that sounds. I’d just gotten off the phone with a client, and we’d been talking about the differences in our lives. He didn’t have children. My remark was in reference to him and said out of frustration. But after Ryan walked out the door, I realized how awful it was. Like—”
“You didn’t want him.”
“Yes. I planned to apologize when he got back. But he . . .”
He didn’t need to finish the sentence. Ryan never came home.
“But Ryan wasn’t taken because of something you said, D-Dad.” Suddenly, the word Dad felt foreign in my mouth. Like a word I didn’t understand and didn’t have the right to use.
“I know that, but your mother blamed me. She believed Ryan was gone because he thought we didn’t want him.”
“That’s crazy.”
“It might not be true, Emily, but it felt true. It still feels true. Those words echo in my mind every day. They’ve never left me. They probably never will.”
“Surely she realizes now that it wasn’t your fault.”
“I think she does. But we don’t talk anymore. I have no idea if she still blames me.”
The daughter inside me wanted to reassure him. Comfort him. But another part of me—the confused and hurt part—couldn’t do it. Couldn’t reach out. I looked sideways at Reuben, who had remained silent throughout my dad’s revelation. I could see the compassion in his eyes, but he didn’t say anything.
I swung my attention back to my dad. “Why are you telling me this now?”
“After talking to you yesterday, I began to wonder if Ryan might actually be alive. Maybe this boy really is Ryan.”
“What changed your mind? The picture I showed you?”
“The picture and . . . this. It was sent over a week ago, but I was out of town. I just opened it last night.”
He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out an envelope. He handed it to me, and I took out the folded piece of yellow, lined, notepad paper inside. I unfolded it. In rather awkward handwriting were the words: Your son is alive and your daughter is in terrible danger. There’s no time to lose.