Her Forgotten Amish Past Page 9

  “That sounds gut.”

  Zeke started for the door and then hesitated. “Do many Amish people work at the studio?”

  “A few men have jobs in the carpentry department. They’re the only Amish I’ve seen. Are you looking for employment?”

  Zeke smiled and shook his head. “I just wondered, especially if Hattie delivers her baked goods here. Will she be the only Amish person at the studio?”

  “No one will give her trouble, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  “With the movie star gone missing—”

  “I told you, Zeke, Vanessa Harrington is known to be temperamental. Although the sheriff is asking questions. Evidently someone notified them, expressing concern.”

  “Has anyone else gone missing?”

  “Not that I know of, but then no one is as big of a star as Vanessa or as big of a problem. The leading man is well-known, but he’s not a prima donna, if you know what I mean.”

  “Did anyone contact Vanessa’s husband?”

  “They talked to him, but he was clueless about her whereabouts. Law enforcement is waiting to hear from Mr. Walker, the producer, in case he had contact with her.”

  “And if not?” Zeke asked.

  “Then the sheriff will open an investigation. They’re calling this a missing person case, although from what I’ve heard, they’re looking for evidence that might indicate foul play.”

  Zeke’s chest tightened. “And if they find anything?”

  “Some of the folks here think the missing person case could turn into a homicide.”

  “They think Vanessa Harrington was murdered?”

  Gingerich shrugged. “People gossip about all sorts of things.”

  Just as Will Troyer had mentioned earlier today. Concern wrapped around Zeke’s heart. He remembered Becca’s bloody dress the night he had found her. He and Hattie had wanted to believe the blood was from the gash on Becca’s head. Now he realized the blood could have been from another source.

  Was Vanessa Harrington dead, and if so, could Becca be involved?

  * * *

  Becca huddled in the back of the buggy and stared into the night, aware of the sounds around her. From somewhere music played. A door opened and then slammed shut, and a man walked along the road, heading to one of the temporary buildings near the sound studios.

  She climbed to the front of the buggy and peered out, hoping to get a better look at the man. He wore a baseball cap and had the collar of his jacket turned up, so she couldn’t see his features.

  Surely, he wasn’t someone from her past.

  After climbing down from the buggy, she sidled close to Sophie and patted the mare’s mane. “Everything’s okay, girl. Be quiet so no one sees us.”

  Becca peered around the corner of the commissary and stared at the row of trailers that sat in a circle around a central common area. One of the studio vans was parked in a distant lot. Again, she wondered about the logo. Did it hold a clue to her missing memory?

  Turning her focus back to the commissary, she glanced through a large window into the kitchen, seeing Caleb and Zeke inside. As she watched, the two men shook hands, and Zeke opened the door to leave.

  Grateful that she would not be alone much longer, Becca turned her focus back to the trailers, feeling a bit of déjà vu flood over her.

  Even from this distance she could see a sign on one of the doors that read Vanessa Harrington. The missing movie star. A small light glowed from within the trailer as if someone had inadvertently left on a lamp.

  Footsteps caused her to turn as Zeke rounded the corner and hurried to where she stood.

  “A few Amish men work in the carpentry department,” Zeke quickly explained as he reached for the reins. “Caleb has not noticed any other Amish employees.”

  Becca grabbed his arm. “See the trailer with the movie star’s name on the door?”

  Zeke stared in the direction she had indicated. “Vanessa Harrington?”

  Becca nodded. “Caleb said she’s not here now, so no one would be inside.”

  Zeke shot her a questioning glance. “I have a feeling you want me to be a Peeping Tom.”

  She shook her head. “Peeping Toms look at people. I want you to peer through the window and tell me what you see.”

  “I will see furniture, maybe a rug, table and chairs.”

  “The rug, Zeke. Tell me what the rug looks like.”

  He stared at her for a long moment. “Is there something you have remembered that you have not shared with me?”

  She sighed. “I’m not sure if it has anything to do with the movie star, but I’ve dreamed of a carpet with a geometric design. Do you know what a trellis pattern is?”

  He pursed his lips. “Squares running on a diagonal?”

  “I never thought of it that way, but yes. That’s one way to describe it.”

  “So you want me to see if there is a trellis pattern on the rug? And you want to know this because you have dreamed about the pattern?”

  “Twice.”

  “Why not go together?” He glanced around the central clearing. “Everything is quiet. Caleb said once again that the studio people are in town filming.” He pointed to the wooded area adjacent to the star’s trailer. “We can approach the trailer on the far side. The woods will provide cover.”

  “What about the buggy?”

  “The hedge of bushes keeps it hidden from the main area. We will hurry.”

  He took her hand and they worked their way through the woods and approached the trailer located closest to the commissary. Zeke stepped toward the window and then motioned her forward.

  Her neck tingled with apprehension when she glanced through the window and saw the area rug in the entrance foyer. Lime green trellis on a beige background. The pattern was identical to the rug in her dreams.

  Except the rug in her dream was stained with blood.

  A door opened on the far side of the clearing.

  Her heart lurched when Larry Landers stepped outside.

  Zeke grabbed her hand and they hurried back to the forested area.

  “Hey!” Landers yelled. “What’re you doing?”

  Landers had chased her today. Becca couldn’t let him find her tonight. She and Zeke ran deeper into the woods, needing to disappear. Just as before, branches grabbed at Becca’s clothing and scratched her hands. Her foot snagged on a root. She tripped. Zeke caught her, and they stumbled on.

  Her side ached. The last thing she needed was a cramp. She jammed her right hand under her ribs and pushed up, hoping to relieve the pain.

  Zeke must have been aware of her struggle. He squeezed her left hand and guided her behind a large boulder. Collapsing against the rock, she struggled to catch her breath.

  Holding his finger to his lips, Zeke motioned for her to be still.

  She listened for Larry’s footsteps, but heard nothing except her own ragged inhale and exhale of breath.

  Had he given up the chase? Or had he stopped as well to study the terrain, searching for movement?

  She envisioned him, ear cocked, listening for them to make a sound that would alert him to their whereabouts.

  As the silence continued, she peered around Zeke and studied their surroundings. Through the trees, she could see lights from the studio enclave.

  Zeke motioned that they needed to go deeper into the woods. Ever so slowly, they stepped away from the boulder and picked their way through the dense underbrush, stopping repeatedly to listen for the man’s approach. At last satisfied that he was no longer behind them, they circled around the periphery of the studio and headed closer to the commissary.

  Glancing through the heavy brush, they saw Landers standing in the clearing, hands on his hips, staring into the thicket where they hid.

  The kitchen door opened and Caleb stepped outside.
He called out to Landers, “Is something wrong?”

  “Did anyone run past the commissary?”

  Caleb shook his head. “I didn’t see anyone. Why?”

  “Someone took off running when I came outside. We’ve had a few things go missing recently. Probably a kid from town. This one wore a wide-brim hat like the Amish.”

  The door of a second trailer opened. Becca’s heart stopped as another tall, muscular man stepped onto the stoop.

  “What’s going on?” he asked.

  “Someone was snooping around.” Once again, Landers stared at where Becca and Zeke hid.

  She shivered. What if he saw them in the underbrush? She never should have come to Montcliff Studio. Something was happening here, and Becca was beginning to think she was involved.

  TWELVE

  Zeke’s mouth was dry and his palms wet. He kept his eyes focused on the two men talking among themselves. The sooner he and Becca left the area, the better, but the men kept pointing to the woods.

  He had not prayed, really prayed, since he had pulled Irene from the fire. That night, he had called out to the Lord to save her. Gott had ignored his request.

  Tonight was different. He feared for Becca’s safety. Gazing up into the night sky, he removed his hat.

  Protect her, Gott. Protect Becca or whatever her name might be.

  His father would not approve of his silent prayer, but then, his datt did not condone any of Zeke’s actions.

  Although Hattie did not understand Zeke’s reason for not attending Sunday services, she never condemned him, for which he was grateful.

  His aunt was a gut woman, and she had provided refuge for Zeke when he had needed some place to hole up and heal his heart. Just as Becca had needed refuge the night he found her wandering along the mountain road.

  Zeke feared the men would remain outside all night. At long last, they nodded their farewells and went inside.

  Still concerned they might be seen, Zeke and Becca remained in place for another twenty minutes until the lights in the trailers went out and the men appeared to have settled in for the night. Zeke hurried to the buggy while Becca remained in their hiding spot.

  Not wanting the clip-clop of Sophie’s hooves to disrupt any of the studio people, he grabbed the reins and turned the mare toward a dirt path he hoped would weave through the forested area and eventually end up on the main road.

  Sophie responded to Zeke’s whispered commands and the tug on the reins. Staying off the pavement masked the sound of her hooves. The only noise was the occasional squeak of the buggy. Slowly, he guided the mare toward the dirt path. He glanced over his shoulder, searching the studio grounds, to make certain no one had seen him.

  He stopped, stood still for a long moment and studied the entire area, his gaze moving from the dormer buildings to the tall sound studios, standing back-dropped against the night sky, to the Montcliff Studio van and the trailers sitting dark in the night. Light spilled from the commissary windows and allowed Ezekiel to find a narrow path into the underbrush.

  His shoulders drooped as much as his heart as he urged Sophie forward. He was responsible for Becca’s safety and his carelessness had placed her in danger. The pain that swelled within him made him want to scream in anger, which was not the Amish way. What would his datt say? No doubt, he would admonish Zeke for not being able to control his emotions. Perhaps his father had forgotten about love.

  Zeke shook his head, unable to see his prim and proper father, pining for his mother—or any woman, for that matter.

  Was Zeke pining now—pining and worried sick about whether he could get Becca out of danger?

  As much as he did not want to admit his feelings, he was drawn to her.

  “Zeke?” The brush parted, and Becca stepped onto the path.

  Relieved to be reunited again, he opened his arms and pulled her into his embrace. She was warm and soft and fully alive. Everything that mattered most was with him at that moment and he never wanted to let her go.

  * * *

  Becca nestled into Zeke’s arms feeling overcome with relief that the men from the studio had gone inside.

  He glanced over his shoulder, all the while urging her forward.

  “We must hurry,” he told her. “Come, we will walk Sophie farther along the path, then we will climb into the buggy and head back to Hattie’s house.”

  The trail wound through the woods, and Becca wondered if she had run along that same path two nights earlier.

  The moon broke through the clouds, which helped them make their way. She studied the path as they walked, looking for any clues or signs that she had traveled this identical route.

  Something caught her eye. She leaned down and pulled a swatch of fabric from one of the low-lying branches and held it up to the moonlight.

  Zeke stepped closer. “What did you find?”

  “A piece of material. I’m not sure in this light, but it looks blue.”

  “Your dress was torn,” he whispered.

  She nodded. “If this swatch of fabric matches my dress, then I ran along this path.”

  Glancing back toward the studio, her stomach roiled. “What happened on that studio lot that made me run for my life and made a man chase after me?”

  Tears welled in her eyes. “Oh, Zeke, what if I’ve done something wrong. You saw the trellis-patterned carpet tonight. The rug I remember was covered with blood. What did I do? Did I cause someone harm?”

  “Do not think such thoughts.”

  “Look.” She pointed to where broken twigs and trampled underbrush curved left. “This is where I left the path. We need to follow that trail.”

  Zeke took her hand. “Not tonight. It is late. Hattie will be worried. She thought we were just going to town, but we have been gone so long. We can come back tomorrow.”

  “You wouldn’t mind returning? If we follow the trail, we might find something that would provide a clue as to what happened.”

  She shivered.

  “You are cold. Let me help you into the buggy. Wrap yourself in the blanket. The road is not far.”

  Becca appreciated his help as he guided her into the buggy. She slipped to the back seat and unfolded the blanket, a crocheted lap throw, and wrapped it around her shoulders. As much as she would have enjoyed the warmth of Zeke’s arms, she needed to keep out of sight in case someone else was on the path tonight.

  As Zeke urged the mare forward, Becca glanced back to the fork in the trail. She would come back tomorrow. She had to know more about where she had been that first night. The torn fabric from her dress confirmed her presence.

  What else would she find on the trail?

  A section of bloodstained carpet? A knife?

  She shivered again.

  Or a dead body?

  THIRTEEN

  Becca and Zeke were both relieved when they arrived back at Hattie’s farm. Just as Zeke had suspected, his aunt had been worried about their safety.

  “I knew you would be concerned,” Zeke told her, “but one thing led to the next.”

  Zeke explained about stopping to see Mr. Gingerich and his less-than-hospitable welcome. “He still holds me responsible for Irene’s death.”

  “His heart has hardened,” Hattie said with a disapproving shake of her head. “He was never an overly friendly man, but he was not one to jump to the wrong conclusions. The pain of losing a child has made him bitter. I understand his grief, yet I cannot condone his accusations.”

  “He told us Caleb was working at the studio tonight,” Zeke explained. “We were close and decided to stop by.”

  “How is the movie star?”

  Zeke chuckled. “He was mopping the floor in the kitchen.”

  “Hard work is good for a man, yah? His father spoiled him along with his sister.”

  Zeke’s face darkened. Becca glanced awa
y, realizing he still had feelings for Irene. Why would he not? They had planned to marry.

  She thought of the warmth of Zeke’s arms around her on the path and in the buggy as they rode toward Levi Gingerich’s house. Some thoughts needed to be buried. She could not think of Zeke as anything but a friend who provided her safe haven and support.

  Then she looked at his expressive eyes and the curve of his lips. Some memories lasted forever.

  “You look upset, Zeke, that I would say this,” Hattie continued, unaware of the turmoil Becca was feeling. “Yet, you know yourself Irene was self-centered. She got what she wanted when she wanted it.”

  “Irene might have been self-absorbed, but she had a good heart.”

  The older woman tsked. “A good heart if everything was going her way. She was not to be trusted, as your father told you.”

  “My father told me a lot of things I did not accept.”

  “The young have a mind of their own, it is true. Now, come, we have talked too much about the past. You are hungry, yah?”

  Becca smiled. “I know I’m hungry.”

  “Wash your hands. The stew is ready. Pour coffee, Becca, while I pull bowls from the cupboard. There’s fresh baked bread, as well.”

  Becca did as Hattie asked and after washing her hands, she filled three cups with coffee and set them on the table. Hurrying to the pantry, she smiled, seeing the loaves of bread along with the freshly baked cakes and pies.

  “You’ve been busy, Hattie.”

  “Busy hands keep the mind from too much worry. At least this is what I told myself. I wanted to get some baked items ready for the studio.”

  “Caleb said he will pick up anything you have ready in the morning.” Zeke reached for a cup of coffee.

  Becca glanced down at the trousers and shirt she wore. “Tomorrow I’ll dress as a woman.”

  “I have a pale green dress that needs only to be hemmed,” Hattie said. “You can wear that tomorrow. A different-colored dress might be enough of a change in case you see anyone throughout the day. If you go someplace in the buggy with Ezekiel, they will think you are courting perhaps.”