Chapter
Twenty-Three

ch-fig

“Wynter? Are you awake?”

It took effort to open my eyes. My body screamed that it needed more sleep. I rolled on my side to see the clock by my bed. Eight o’clock.

A knock on the door. “Wynter, can I come in?”

I recognized Zac’s voice. “Wait a minute,” I called out. I got out of bed, found my robe, and went to the door. He was standing on the other side, dressed and looking concerned.

“Sorry, I was starting to worry.”

“It’s only a little after eight, Zac.”

“I know, but when I got up to go to the bathroom last night, I heard voices downstairs. It was after midnight. What’s going on?”

I swung the door open and motioned him inside. “Why didn’t you come down?”

“I heard your dad. Figured maybe it was family stuff. Didn’t want to horn in.”

“You wouldn’t be horning in. I don’t have any secrets from you anymore.”

He laughed. “You’re just feeling guilty because I may have been poisoned for your sake.”

“You’re probably right. And I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

“Thanks. So now what, Sherlock?”

“How about you go away and let me take a shower? I’ll meet you downstairs in about thirty minutes and bring you up to date.”

“Don’t you have an appointment to keep this morning?”

“So that’s why you woke me up.”

“I didn’t want to see you hauled out of here in handcuffs. Would upset my digestion, and there’s been enough of that.”

“Actually, our deputy friend is coming here at nine, but not to drag me off to the slammer. He’s going to help us find out where Elijah and his family have gone.”

Zac’s eyebrows shot up. “Are you serious? And how did this magical transformation take place?”

“All in good time, my friend. Now scoot.”

“Okay, okay. Hope Esther’s making some of those melt-in-your-mouth biscuits. I could eat them every day. Not sure what I’m going to do after we go home.”

“You had your chance. She was willing to share her culinary secrets.”

He laughed, got up from the bed, and left. I hurried around, took a quick shower, and was downstairs about forty minutes later.

After saying good morning to Esther, I joined Zac in the living room, where he was sipping coffee and waiting for me. First I told him about our visit with Samuel and Naomi, then filled him in on last night’s events.

“Wow,” he said when I’d finished, “a guy gets a little sleep and misses out on all this? I may never sleep again.”

“Don’t say that,” I said with a yawn. “I’m beat.”

“So now what?”

“I get a cup of coffee.”

Zac made an impatient noise. “I mean, what do we do today?”

“Well, Reuben, Deputy Gleason, and my dad are going to check with some people in town who know the Fishers. See if they can figure out where they are. If they don’t turn up something solid, Paul’s going to drive to Samuel Fisher’s farm and rattle his cage a bit.”

One of Zac’s eyebrows shot up. “And just how does he intend to do that?”

I shrugged. “Maybe Paul can bring up things like impeding an investigation or aiding a kidnapper. I don’t know, but he seems like the kind of guy who won’t take no for an answer. I suspect Samuel won’t last long under real pressure.”

“I hate to bring this up, but what about the station? How long are we going to be able to keep Ed on ice?”

“I don’t know, Zac. Right now, I just don’t care. We’re so close.”

“I know.”

“You should go back.”

Zac’s eyebrows shot up. “Without you? No way.”

“Look, there’s no sense in your losing your job because of me. I’m running out of excuses for Ed. I’ve been thinking about telling him the truth. Let the chips fall where they may.” I smiled at Zac. “You’ve been such a good friend, but it’s time I started thinking about what’s best for you. I’m going to take the blame for all of this. I want you to call Ed and tell him you’re coming back today.”

Zac was quiet for a moment. Then he shook his head. “No. I won’t do it. Coming here—being with you—has given me much more than any job ever will. I’ve not only made a good friend, but I think I’ve rediscovered something else I never thought I would—my faith.” He gave me a tremulous smile. “So you see, no matter what happens, I’m ahead. A job’s a job. I got hired at KDSM, and I can get hired somewhere else. I’m not leaving. I’m seeing this through to the end.”

“Oh, Zac. Are you sure?”

He nodded. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. I want to be here when you find your brother.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Then I want to be here to help you through that. Either way, I’m not leaving.”

“Here I’ve tried to keep myself from making emotional attachments, and suddenly I find myself with a new friend. How weird is that?”

“Hey, my new friend turned out to be a reporter—and a woman. No one is more surprised than I am.”

We both laughed, and I let go of his hand. Then I dug around in my pocket for my phone. “Well, guess I might as well get it over with. This should be interesting.”

“Good luck.”

I took my cell phone outside. Not wanting to be disturbed in case Reuben and Paul showed up while I was talking, I walked around the side of the house. Thankfully, I had enough bars to make the call. As my phone dialed the number of the station, I noticed something odd in the grass. I quickly hung up before the call went through and looked closer. A narrow patch alongside the house had been planted with something. Bricks formed a border around the small garden. The scent coming off the plants made it clear Esther was growing mint. But the plants right under the window were crushed, and some of the bricks used to create the border had been moved and stacked on top of one another. Someone had been looking in the window. I stood on my tiptoes and stared inside. I could clearly see the living room and Zac sitting in a chair, waiting for me.

I stepped back and stared at the bricks. Who had been watching us? And why? I started to put the bricks back where they were supposed to be but then thought better of it. Maybe leaving them where they were would be smarter. When Paul and Reuben arrived, I’d tell them about it. With any luck, perhaps our peeper would come back and we could catch him.

I walked quickly back toward the front of the house, hoping the person who’d been spying on us wasn’t watching. I didn’t want him to know I’d discovered his makeshift perch.

I sat on the edge of the porch and redialed the station number. The receptionist put me through to Ed. When he answered, I said a quick prayer, took a deep breath, and let the truth tumble out unfettered. All I could do was hope it made sense and Ed would understand.

I’d just hung up when I saw Reuben’s truck coming down the street. I jumped up and hurried inside.

“They’re here,” I told Zac.

“Did you get Ed?” he asked.

“I wish I could give you better news. He wasn’t happy. We’ve got until the end of the week to finish the story and get back. Then he wants to meet with both of us.” I shook my head. “I’m sorry, Zac. I may have lost us both our jobs.”

Zac shrugged. “There are other jobs. I’m not worried. But I’m sorry for you. I know you were counting on that anchor spot.”

I smiled at him. “As strange as it sounds, it doesn’t seem very important anymore.”

“What if we don’t find Ryan by Friday?”

“Then you’ll go back, and I’ll take whatever punishment Ed thinks is right.”

“You know I’m not going anywhere, right? I’ve come too far with this thing to bail out now.”

“He’ll probably fire you.”

“Then he fires me. I’m not leaving.”

At that moment the door opened and Reuben walked in, my dad on his heels. “Paul’s not here yet?”

“Not yet.”

Esther came into the room and greeted Reuben and Dad. “How about some breakfast?” she asked.

Zac jumped to his feet. “Sounds good to me.”

I laughed. “Food always sounds good to you.”

He gave me a quick wink. “As long as it’s not Italian or anything chocolate.”

My dad looked confused, and I shot Zac a warning look. Since we really didn’t know if there was something wrong with the fudge, I couldn’t see bringing it up to Dad. If he thought someone had tried to poison me, he might decide I needed protection. And right now, I didn’t want to deal with an overprotective father.

“No Italian food or chocolate on the menu,” Esther said with a smile, “but I have some nice biscuits with sausage gravy.”

Zac patted his flat stomach. “Just what the doctor ordered.”

We followed Esther into the dining room and sat down at the table. Esther nodded at my father. “Would you lead us in prayer, Lyndon?”

I expected my father to refuse, but to my surprise he bowed his head. “Father, we thank you for this food and for the warm hospitality of this house. We pray blessings back on this gracious lady, and we ask for your help in finding the truth about my son. Please forgive us for our past weaknesses and mistakes and restore that which was lost. Thank you for second chances. In the name of Jesus we pray. Amen.”

I had to blink away tears. I’d forgotten that my father used to pray every night at dinner before Ryan went missing. Hearing him again brought back a flood of memories. Good ones. Memories I’d pushed into the recesses of my mind.

“Thank you, Lyndon,” Esther said. “That was lovely.”

“Yes. Yes, it was,” I said softly.

Dad’s small smile told me he was pleased that his prayer had touched me.

“Zac tells me your deputy sheriff friend is coming over this morning,” Esther said to Reuben. “Does it have anything to do with August’s death?”

“Not really,” I said. “Remember when I first came here and you asked me if I was missing anyone?”

Esther nodded. “Yes, you mentioned your brother. I’ve been praying you would find him again. Does your friend know where he is?”

“It’s possible. He’s following a lead. I hope you’ll keep praying for us.”

Esther smiled. “I certainly will. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if you found your brother after all these years?”

“Yes. Yes, it would.”

Reuben glanced at his watch. “Paul should have been here by now.”

“Maybe he’s doing some investigating on his own,” I said.

Reuben frowned. “Maybe, but he’s always been pretty prompt. I hope nothing’s wrong.”

I wanted to tell Reuben, my dad, and Zac what I’d found during my time on the computer last night, but with Esther in the room, I wasn’t sure I could. We’d only been eating a few minutes when she got to her feet.

“Please forgive me,” she said, “but I need to get a couple of pies in the oven for tonight. If I don’t do it now, they won’t be set by supper.”

I nodded at her. “What about your breakfast?”

She pointed at her almost empty plate. “I must confess the truth, I suppose. I had two biscuits before you came downstairs.” She wrinkled her nose, tickled by her admission. “I couldn’t possibly eat another bite.”

Zac chuckled. “If I’d been in the kitchen with you, there wouldn’t have been a bite left to serve.”

“Please, Esther,” I said, “do whatever you need to do. We can manage by ourselves. We’ll take the dishes into the kitchen when we’re done.”

“Thank you, Wynter. I appreciate that.” She left the table and went into the kitchen.

Grateful for the chance to share my findings but aware Paul could arrive any minute, I quickly explained about my research into Marian Belker. “I found something very interesting,” I said, keeping my voice down. “Dad, you said Mac told you he was with Marian when she died?”

He nodded. “Yes.”

“Well, that’s interesting because I used the station’s account and searched through Social Security records. There’s no documentation that shows a Marian Belker dying in Missouri around the time Mac first contacted you.”

Dad frowned. “Maybe they weren’t living in Missouri.”

I shook my head. “You said her middle name was Rose, right?”

“Yes. I remember that specifically because she first introduced herself as Rose. But when I wrote her the check, she asked me to make it out to Marian, since that was her first name and Rose was her middle name.”

“There’s no record of any Marian Rose Belker dying during the years in question.”

“I don’t understand,” Dad said slowly. “Mac said—”

“Mac lied, Dad,” I said. “I have no idea why. Maybe Marian told him what happened, and he used it against you without her knowledge.”

“Or maybe Mac was working with her,” Reuben said. “Perhaps the person really behind the blackmailing scheme was Marian.”

My father shook his head. “Call me naïve, but it just doesn’t fit with the woman I met that night in the hospital. At first she didn’t even want the money. I had to talk her into it. I would swear she was more concerned with giving you a good home, Emily.”

“People change, Dad. Maybe she decided the money was important after all.”

I could see Dad turning this idea over in his head, but he wasn’t having an easy time of it.

“Well, here’s something else,” I said. “While I was looking up information on Marian, I ran across a Joseph Edgar Belker who died three years ago. His widow was Marian Rose Belker.”

“So Rose was married?” Dad said.

“Sounds like it. I tried to do some checking on her after that, but it’s like she dropped off the edge of the world. No records of addresses or anything else.”

“Could her husband have been Mac?” Reuben asked.

“I think it’s possible. But why would he say she’d died?”

“Because if I thought she was alive and contacted the police, they’d be able to find him,” Dad said. “For some stupid reason, I accepted what he told me. Mostly because I couldn’t believe Marian would have anything to do with blackmailing me.”

I shrugged. “I’m not sure what happened or what this information means. It’s just another part of our very confusing puzzle. But it certainly provides a twist to the situation.”

“So Marian . . . or Rose, is alive,” Zac said. “But she might not have anything to do with Ryan’s kidnapping.”

“If Marian’s husband was Mac, then August certainly wasn’t. So why did he have information about my brother hidden in his apartment? And why did he send me the clippings and mail that note to you, Dad?”

“We’re still keeping this information from Paul?” Reuben asked.

“For now,” I answered. “Until we see a solid connection. Since we know for certain he wasn’t Mac, we have no reason to tell Paul the details of my birth.”

“But as I said, if at any point there seems to be a need,” my father said firmly, “I’ll tell him everything.”

“Could you get in trouble?” Reuben asked.

Dad shook his head. “I don’t know, but Ryan comes first.”

I looked around the table. “You’re all okay with keeping my secret? For now anyway?”

Everyone nodded except Reuben.

“What are you thinking?” I asked.

“What if Joseph Belker really was Mac?” he asked, his forehead wrinkled with concern. “Doesn’t that bring up a lot of new possibilities?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “There are still so many unanswered questions. Let’s concentrate on finding Ryan. Maybe he can tell us who Mac is—or was.”

Reuben nodded. “I hope he can, but we should probably keep trying to find out everything we can on our end.”

Someone knocked on the front door, and Zac jumped up. “I’ll get it.”

I grabbed my cup and downed the rest of my coffee. Then I took the carafe and refilled my cup. Making it on so little sleep was going to take lots of caffeine.

“Good morning,” Paul said as he came into the dining room.

“Good morning,” Reuben answered. “How about some breakfast?”

“Thanks. I already ate. Some coffee would be nice though.”

I pointed to the extra table setting. “Esther set a place for you in case you were hungry. Your cup is right there. We thought you’d be here before now.”

Paul walked around the table and sat down, picking up the empty cup and filling it with coffee. After a little cream and sugar, he took a big gulp. “We stayed up too late last night. I can barely keep my eyes open.”

“So what’s up this morning?” Dad asked.

I held my hand up. “Before we start on that, I have something I want to tell you.” I told Paul about the bricks outside the living room window.

“Why didn’t you mention that earlier?” Reuben asked.

I rolled my eyes. “We were busy talking about other things. Didn’t get a chance.”

“Did you see any footprints?” Paul asked.

“I didn’t think to look,” I said. “But I can tell you there are some now. Mine.” I sighed. “Sorry. I was so busy trying to figure out what our Peeping Tom could see through that window, I wasn’t thinking about footprints.”

“Would that really have helped?” Dad said.

Paul shrugged. “Not unless the person who stood there had unusual shoes or an odd foot size. Then it might help to narrow the field.”

“Maybe I didn’t completely ruin everything,” I said. “Why don’t you take a look before you leave and see if there’s anything that might help us discover who is so interested in what we’re doing?”

Paul took a sip of coffee and nodded. “I will. But before I do that, there are a couple of things you need to know. First of all, as near as we can tell, the handwriting on Lyndon’s note matches August’s perfectly. I haven’t had time to get a handwriting expert to look at it, but there’s no doubt in my mind that August wrote that note.”

“We were pretty sure he did,” I said. “So that’s settled. What’s the other thing you wanted to tell us?”

Paul smiled. “The reason I was late. I was following up on something.”

“And what was that?” Reuben asked.

Paul shrugged. “Oh, nothing too important. I found Elijah.”