Plain Jayne by Hillary Manton Lodge Read Free Book Online Page A

I understood.

    Ida drove herself home shortly after dinner. Even before the sky quite darkened, the children quieted, and before I knew it, everyone headed for bed.
    At nine thirty.
    Hadn’t gone to bed so early since middle school.
    After an unsuccessful attempt at sleep, I booted up my laptop. A message bubble informed me that no wireless networks were in range.
    Somehow, I was not surprised.
    I transcribed a few of the day’s conversations and events for use in the future article. Played a couple hands of solitaire. Moved on to Minesweeper when it was time to relax, and then powered down the machine.
    I burrowed under layers of quilts. Wished I had an electric blanket.
    Sat up straight when a light flashed into my room.
    Several irrational explanations fought for first place.
    Maybe Ida had left something, and the lights were her car’s headlights.
    Maybe Levi was coming to tell me something. I dismissed that idea as soon as I’d thought of it—for Pete’s sake, I wasn’t fifteen anymore.
    There could be robbers of some sort, but unless they were after the giant milking equipment or Martha’s cast-iron cookware, I couldn’t think of anything worth stealing.
    And I doubted the resale value on cast-iron cookware made the effort financially viable. Cattle? Were cattle rustlers outside my window?
    The light flashed again. I rolled out of bed, staying close to the ground. Glad I was a brunette and not a light-reflective blonde, I raised my head until I could just see out.
    A man was outside with a flashlight. Okay, an Amish man, but an Amish man hanging around outside with a flashlight didn’t seem that safe, either.
    My heart stopped when I saw him reach toward the window next to mine.
    Sara’s window.
    I pulled a quilt around my shoulders and whipped out to the hallway, the protective moves I’d learned in Joely’s self-defense class playing through my mind.
    I could have at least brought a heavy shoe as a weapon
, I thought before turning the knob on Sara’s door.
    The opening door revealed the young woman, sitting at the window. “Get down!” I ordered, all but tackling her to the ground. “There’s a man outside!”
    â€œNo,” Sara said, her voice hushed but firm. “There’s none but David Zook outside.”
    I tilted my head to see David Zook peering at us through the window.
    The “male lurker” was about seventeen, confused, frightened, and in need of a good haircut.
    â€œWhat’s he doing skulking around?” I asked, gesturing wildly at the window while vaguely aware of my fleeting dignity. “And pointing his flashlights at people’s windows in the dead of night?”
    Oh yeah, and never mind that this particular “dead of night” landed two hours before I usually went to bed.
    â€œDavid is my…” Sara’s eyes darted to the window and back at me. “He’s my, um…”
    â€œGentleman caller?”
    â€œBoyfriend,” she spat the word out. “He’s picking me up for a date.”
    I felt a headache coming on. “You knew he was coming?”
    She nodded.
    â€œOkay, whatever.” I turned around and walked to the door. “Just remember,” I said before making it out the room, “ninety-two percent of female murder victims were killed by men they knew.”
    I doubted this kind of thing ever happened to Seymour Hersh.

    I dreamed about aliens that night. They landed in front of the farmhouse, their flashing saucer lights causing everyone concern. Shane captained the ship, although the aliens had trouble communicating with him. Instead of the helm, Shane stayed in the party area of the ship, where the aliens served orange fizzy drinks and made
Star Wars
references.
    They clapped to an odd kind of rhythm with their webbed alien hands. At some point, I realized I wasn’t listening to the clapping of extraterrestrials but someone knocking at my