Marta Perry Read Free Page B

moment. “Either way, isn’t it better to know the truth?”
    The truth. The words were an echo of what Sarah had said to her earlier. Life seemed easier, somehow, if you could settle for a polite fiction that glossed over the difficult facts. But some people would only be satisfied by the truth, and she had an uncomfortable feeling that she might be one of them.
    Rachel leaned back, sipping her tea, ready to talk or listen or forget, whatever Meredith needed. A wave of gratitude went through her. Maybe that was really the definition of a friend... Someone who could hear all the bad stuff, empathize and then let it slip away.
    She took a gulp of her tea, letting the hot liquid dissolve the lump that had formed in her throat.
    “I met with my cousin Sarah this afternoon,” she said, abruptly changing the subject. “Apparently rumors are going around that Aaron Mast killed himself.”
    Rachel’s clear blue eyes clouded. “Oh, no. We tried to be so careful not to let anyone know what we’d found.”
    “I’m beginning to think there’s no such thing as a secret in Deer Run,” Meredith said. “Sarah’s so upset about it. And Aaron’s parents, as well. She asked me to find out if it’s really true.”
    “I can understand how they feel. Suicide goes against everything the Amish believe. But how are we supposed to come up with something new after all this time?”
    Meredith appreciated the we. Rachel wouldn’t let her deal with the problem alone. “At this point, I don’t have a single idea. But I’d like to go through the scrapbook we kept that summer again. Would you mind if I picked it up?”
    She, Rachel and their friend Lainey Colton had kept a scrapbook of their imaginary world that summer, filled with their observations and the illustrations Lainey had drawn. Meredith had already been through it several dozen times, but perhaps there was something she’d missed.
    “I’ll drop it off for you,” Rachel said, still looking concerned. She glanced at her watch. “I didn’t realize how late it was getting. I hate to cut this short, but I told Mamm to send Mandy home at four-thirty.”
    “No problem. At the moment, I don’t have any idea of how to do what Sarah wants.” She rose, putting the mugs in the sink.
    “Maybe if we both think about it, we’ll come up with something.” Rachel touched her arm in silent sympathy. “As for the other...well, try not to worry too much about Zach. He’s not a boy any longer. He’s responsible for his own happiness.”
    Or unhappiness, Meredith added silently. Still, Zach hadn’t seemed unhappy. Just bitter.
    “Say hi to Mandy and your folks for me.” Meredith walked with her to the back porch. The breach between Rachel and her family over her leaving the Amish faith had healed, and Rachel considered herself fortunate to live only a stone’s throw from her parents’ farm on the far side of the covered bridge over the creek.
    Meredith stood for a moment on the back stoop, watching as Rachel cut across the intervening backyard. All of the backyards on this side of the road ended at the creek, which formed a boundary between the village on this side and the Amish farms on the other. Meredith kept her backyard mowed to just beyond the garage, as her father always had. A little farther on, a tangled border of raspberry bushes spanned the space to the trees that crowded along the creek banks.
    If she went down the path behind the garage, it would lead her to the small dam that emptied into a wide, inviting pool. The pool where Aaron Mast died.
    A breeze touched her and set the branches moving, a few leaves detaching themselves to flutter to the ground. The sun was just beginning to slip behind the mountain, but the shadows already lay deep under the trees around the pond.
    She rubbed her arms, unaccountably chilled. She hadn’t liked going to the dam since that summer. It had figured in too many bad dreams.
    She didn’t believe it was haunted by ghosts. That was