The Search The Secrets of Crittenden Cou - By Shelley Shepard Gray Page 0,66

she was that everyone was saying such hateful things about him. As the days passed, her mother seemed to enjoy reinventing Perry. No longer had he been slightly lazy as a child. No, he’d always been a hard worker.

No longer had he been a picky eater or had a penchant for sneaking Hershey bars.

No, he had been perfect. He certainly hadn’t had a drug problem. And he never, ever would have encouraged others to take drugs.

It didn’t matter that Sheriff Kramer had proof. It didn’t matter if other people came forward with stories about Perry. As far as they were concerned, people were being disrespectful because Perry had passed away and couldn’t offer excuses.

And besides, no one should ever speak poorly of the dead. Especially if the dead was a beloved son.

Deborah was finding it increasingly difficult to talk about Perry with her parents. The more stories that surfaced about his behavior, the deeper they went into denial. To even attempt to correct their delusions was an invitation to punishment from her father.

And their anger about Mose and Detective Reynolds was reaching epic proportions. They firmly placed all blame on those two men’s shoulders, imagining that somehow Mose should have known what Perry had been sneaking around doing. And that they should have solved the crime in a matter of hours, not days or weeks.

Deborah wasn’t sure what the right answers were. But she did know that everything with Perry had been complicated. Complicated enough not to be untangled without a lot of cooperation from everyone who had been involved in Perry’s life.

So she escaped. The day was lovely and the fresh air invigorating. She walked to the park, and was just about to head over to the library when she spied Lydia Plank and Walker Anderson sitting on the swings together.

Lydia spied her and smiled, then waved her over.

After a brief hesitation, Deborah joined them. The community’s newest couple seemed perfect for each other in many ways . . . except for their very different lifestyles. Most folks Deborah knew were keeping their guesses about their religious differences—and their concerns about what would happen to them in the future—to themselves. At the moment, Deborah had heard that Walker was still going to the Congregational Church with his family while Lydia continued to go to church with her family.

“Welcome back,” Lydia said when Deborah got closer. “Walker, you know Deborah, don’t you?”

“Yep.” He smiled. “I saw her in the store the other day, as a matter of fact.”

The reminder of being around Jacob caused Deborah to clear her throat. “How are those puppies?”

He laughed. “Mr. Schrock has already sold two! I never would have imagined that he’d have much luck selling those dogs.”

“They’re really more like small horses,” Deborah said.

“Perhaps that’s why they’re selling?”

“Who knows? At least they’re penned up and cute. I don’t always care for some of Mr. Schrock’s ideas.”

Lydia spoke up. “How are you, Deborah?” she asked kindly. “It’s been quite a time since our paths have crossed. Is your family all right?”

“Yes. They are fine.” But as she met Lydia’s gaze, Deborah knew her lie had been caught. She flushed, knowing she was behaving like her mother. “I mean, we are doing our best.” She shrugged.

“Be sure and tell your parents hello from me.”

“You can tell them yourself on Sunday.”

Lydia stilled. “Perhaps.”

“Is something wrong?”

Lydia and Walker exchanged glances. “No, it’s just that we might be pretty busy for the next few months.”

Deborah raised her eyebrows but tried to keep the promise to herself of not badgering them about their relationship.

“There’s a group of Amish in the next county over who are New.”

“New?”

“New Order,” Lydia explained, coloring slightly. “Walker and I decided to go visit with them for a few Sundays. And I’m going to attend Walker’s church. And we might also visit the Mennonite one, too.”

“We want to be a part of each others’ lives . . . but we’re having a bit of difficulty about making a decision.”

Lydia bit her lip. “Meshing our faiths and interests is a difficult thing.”

Resting a hand over Lydia’s, Walker continued. “I want to be part of Lydia’s life and world. But I’m not quite sure if I can embrace everything your order does,” Walker said slowly. “I talked to my grandparents about it. They’re the ones who suggested that we try out different churches.”

Deborah was shocked. “Is this allowed?”

Lydia shrugged. “I don’t know. No one is real happy about the idea, but after Perry . . .” Her voice