Seeking Amish Shelter

by Alison Stone

  God, please let Ashley be okay.

  A lifetime of her father’s, the bishop’s, the entire Amish community’s warnings about staying separate from the evils of the outside world rang in her ears. Fortunately for her, she wouldn’t have to see them gloat, because she wasn’t welcome in her hometown of Hickory Lane. Either way, it wasn’t in their nature to gloat. The goal had been to strike fear in the hearts of the youth so that they’d never leave. However, Bridget’s passion had overridden their caution, and look at her now. Bouncing her legs with nervous energy while a DEA agent searched her friend’s apartment.

  Oh, why did I stick my nose into someone else’s business? I should have done my job and gone to school. Today was my last day at that clinic anyway... Please, please let Ashley be okay.

  Bridget tucked the folds of her skirt under her thighs, then pulled out the fabric and smoothed it. Her stress had exceeded the heart-racing, mind-scrambling, nausea-inducing levels she’d experienced the night before she jumped the fence and left Hickory Lane.

  Look how that turned out.

  Self-doubt had a way of ramping up her worst fears.

  Bridget stood and shook out her tingling hands. A moment later, Zach appeared in the doorway. He had holstered his gun and concealed it under his pant leg. “Ashley’s not here.”

  “No?” Her squeaky voice could barely be heard above her thrumming pulse. Was that good or bad?

  The intensity in his eyes suggested the latter. She stepped inside without taking his offered hand. He closed the door behind them, trapping them with the stale scent of day-old garbage and something Bridget couldn’t quite identify.

  “I need you to tell me if you notice anything missing.”

  Bridget scanned the room, taking in the little details of Ashley’s life: a sweatshirt tossed aside, a pair of shoes kicked off, dirty dishes on the counter. “I don’t know.”

  Zach walked toward the back hallway. “How about in her bedroom?”

  Bridget slowed. “Her bedroom? Aren’t we invading her privacy?”

  “We need to find Ashley.” When Bridget didn’t immediately respond, Zach added, “She’ll understand.”

  Zach palmed the door to open it all the way. Ashley’s bed was unmade, and one sneaker was upturned on the hardwood floor. Perhaps the other one had been kicked under the bed. Zach gestured to the closet with his chin. “There’s not a lot of clothes.” He pulled open a couple of drawers in the only dresser. “Not much in here, either.”

  The whooshing in Bridget’s head grew louder. “Do you think she took off somewhere?”

  He tilted his head as if considering. Why would Ashley have taken off when they had plans to meet the DEA agent? Bridget walked out of the bedroom and went into the bathroom. She didn’t know what she was looking for—maybe proof that her coworker had left on her own. Bridget had made up for lost time after growing up without a TV—she’d watched her fill since moving to Buffalo. Didn’t bad guys stuff clothes into a suitcase to make it look like their victim left?

  Bridget tugged on the edge of the bathroom mirror. Zach lingered in her peripheral vision. It opened with a click, revealing a medicine cabinet. She picked up a prescription bottle. “Allergy meds.” She put them back in the cabinet.

  Zach leaned on the bathroom door frame. “How well do you know Ashley?”

  “I met her my sophomore year in an advanced biology class. She recommended me when there was an opening at the clinic. We’ve worked together for about two years.” Bridget knew a nonanswer when she heard it. How well did she really know Ashley? “She wouldn’t just up and go. I know that.” Wouldn’t her Amish neighbors have said the same thing about her? How many hearts had she broken when she ran away in the middle of the night?

  Bridget brushed past Zach on her way to the family room. Everything seemed mostly where it should be. “Ashley wasn’t really neat, so it’s hard to know if anything is out of place.” She twirled a long strand of her hair around her finger, then let it drop. She was about to ask Zach for his take when a black object poking out from under the couch caught her attention. She bent down and scooped it up. She palmed the weight of the cell phone, and the screen lit up revealing all the missed texts, mostly from Bridget.

  Where are you?

  You’re late.

  Is everything okay?

  Bridget’s hand began to tremble. Everything was definitely not okay. Behind the text bubbles, her eye was drawn to the wallpaper image: a selfie of Ashley and Bridget sticking their tongues out with Dr. Seth Ryan in the background throwing double peace signs. A crack that had splintered across the screen distorted the image.

  Bridget handed the phone to Zach, fighting back her growing panic. “Ashley would never have gone anywhere without her phone.”

  THREE

  “Come on—we have to go.” Zach pocketed Ashley’s cell phone and took Bridget by the elbow, ushering her toward the back door leading to the patio, where they had come in.

  Bridget swung out of his grasp and glared at him. Disbelief and fear flashed on her pretty face. “Where is Ashley? We have to find her.”

  “We’ll talk in my truck.” He had to get Bridget to safety. Now. Ashley Meadows’s apartment wasn’t the place.

  “We’re going to leave?” Bridget held out her palms, indicating Ashley’s apartment. “Maybe there’s a—” she seemed to be searching for the right word “—clue or something here. Aren’t you trained in this sort of thing?”

  “I do have a plan.” Zach needed to get her moving without panicking her. “Once we’re in my truck, I’m going to reach out to a contact in the Buffalo Police Department. He’ll come back here, make sure it’s secure and interview the neighbors. Okay? Let’s go.”

  This time Bridget hustled around the side of the house with Zach keeping her close, hyperaware of his surroundings. Nothing seemed out of place in this tranquil neighborhood. The tires on his truck squealed when they pulled away from the curb. He made the promised call to his buddy, Freddy Mack, of the Buffalo PD. His time at the DEA had him working closely with officers of various law enforcement agencies, including Freddy. When he ended the call, Bridget whispered, “Please take me home now.”

  “Is there someplace else you could stay until we locate Ashley?”

  She shrugged. “No. My sister is visiting. I have to go back to my apartment.”

  “Listen...” He made a quick decision to zip onto the expressway without signaling. He kept checking his rearview mirror. No other car seemed to be following him. Perhaps he was being paranoid.

  Bridget leaned forward and slowly lifted her thumb. “I live back—”

  “I need to make sure no one is following us before I take you home.” He checked all his mirrors again. Nothing suspicious. If Bridget wanted to go home against his advice, she had to know what she was potentially up against. “I’ll drop you off and go back to Ashley’s apartment to investigate myself, if that’s what you want. However, we don’t know what we’re dealing with. Maybe you almost getting run down and Ashley disappearing are both major coincidences and have nothing to do with your meeting with a DEA agent.” She had to realize the potential danger she was in. “You’re welcome to get on with your life and hope for the best if that’s what you want.” Never in good conscience would he actually let her do this.

  “Of course I want to get on with my life.” Her tone was harsher than he’d expected. “I reported what I saw at the clinic because it was the right thing to do.” Bridget released a long sigh and looked up. “I should never have gotten involved with this.” Some of the fight seemed to be draining out of her.

  “You did the right thing. We both know that.” Zach had no idea what they were dealing with. “I can’t make you do anything. What you do next is up to you.” He glanced at his smartwatch. No messages. “We both know Ashley didn’t leave that apartment because she wanted to, and I think you’re
a smart woman.”

  “You don’t know me.”

  “No, I don’t. I do hope you’ll take my advice and find someplace else to stay until we know Ashley’s safe and her disappearance has nothing to do with your meeting with a DEA agent and the suspicious activities at the clinic.”

  “Even if Dr. Ryan was improperly prescribing prescription drugs, he wouldn’t hurt Ashley.” Her tone had a faraway quality. “He has two children. The oldest is in college.”

  “Do you think people who commit crimes don’t have families?” His eye twitched. He blamed the caffeine. Ashley wasn’t kidding when she’d mentioned Bridget was naive. However, he had to give her kudos for coming forward. Now he had to nudge her not to lose her nerve.

  Before someone made the decision for her.

  Zach pulled into the busy parking lot of a superstore. He put the truck into Park and met Bridget’s gaze squarely. “I’ve been a DEA agent for four years. I mostly work undercover.” He pressed his lips together and shook his head, trying to shut out the gruesome images he’d seen on the job. “Please let me take you and your sister somewhere safe for the night. We can reevaluate the situation in the morning once we locate Ashley. Please.”

  Bridget ran her thumb over her bruised palm, seeming to be working something out for herself. “I don’t want my sister to know what’s going on.” She looked up at him with wide brown eyes.

  “I’m willing to go at this any way you want.” He raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to continue.

  Bridget threaded and unthreaded her fingers. “My sister, Liddie, is supposed to go home tomorrow. I wish she had already left.” She seemed to be thinking out loud. “I can’t have her reporting this back to my family.”

  “Do you have a friend you both could stay with? Someone not associated with the clinic?” He didn’t want the bad guys to find their safe house.

  Bridget shook her head. “I’m busy with school and work. I don’t socialize much.”

  “Anyone from school?”

  “Not really. Ashley’s my closest friend.” The knuckles of her clutched hands grew white. “Do you really think we won’t be safe at the apartment?”

  “Something went down at Ashley’s place, and she’s missing. I don’t want to sit back and wait for you to go missing, too.”

  A shudder seemed to rack Bridget’s small frame. Her silky hair fell forward and hid her face. After a moment, she lifted her head and stared at him. He didn’t know her well enough to read her mostly blank expression. “I can probably spring for a cheap motel for the night for me and my sister. I’ll frame it as a girls’ getaway.” She twisted her lips, as if the lie pained her. “And you’re a friend from work who kindly offered to give me a ride since I don’t own a car and all that.” She blinked slowly, perhaps surprised at how quickly she had come up with a cover story. “She can’t know what’s going on or that could put her in jeopardy, right?” The lilt of her voice suggested she was looking for his approval.

  “You’re making the right decision.” He put the truck in Drive again. “Now tell me, where do you live?”

  * * *

  “Can’t you wait in the truck?” Bridget turned to stop Zach from following her across the parking lot to her second-story apartment.

  “I’m sticking close.”

  “Hmm...” Bridget mentally rehearsed the cover story for her sister. Lying wasn’t part of her nature. This was about protecting Liddie. About protecting both of them. Having Zach hanging over her shoulder wouldn’t help.

  If this horrible day had to happen, Bridget wished it could have waited twenty-four hours. Her sister would have been home in Hickory Lane and none the wiser. The last thing she needed was for Liddie to tell her parents how royally her big sister had screwed up in the big, bad outside world. This fiasco would only prove her conservative Amish parents’ point—it was better to remain separate.

  A hot flush washed over her as she reached the stairwell.

  I’ve done far scarier things in my life. I can handle this.

  Oh, man... How much longer could she give herself this pep talk? She picked up her pace, her hand skimming the railing and her full skirt tangling between her legs. “Liddie!” she called when she opened the apartment door. She strode through the small apartment to the spare bedroom, where her sister’s things were neatly piled in the corner. She must have started packing.

  “That’s strange.” She met Zach back in the living room. “She’s not here.” Her mind flashed back to Ashley’s empty apartment, and a surge of panic rolled through her. Then a bright yellow Post-it glowing on the kitchen counter caught her eye. Bridget read the note and sent up a silent prayer of thanks. “Ah, she’s down by the pool.”

  “Text her. Tell her to come up,” Zach said.

  “You’re forgetting I don’t have her number.” Bridget bristled at his authoritative tone. “She owns one of those cheap disposable ones.” Liddie picked it up when she arrived, claiming she wanted to chat with her other friends who had either smuggled a phone into their Amish homes or were also currently on Rumspringa. Funny thing, Bridget never broke the rules when she was living at home. She bided her time and broke the ultimate rule.

  “The pool is in the courtyard. It’ll take me two seconds to get her.”

  “I’m coming with you,” Zach said, and Bridget didn’t bother to argue.

  They left the apartment, and Bridget locked the door behind them.

  A familiar laugh caught her attention when she reached the thick green hedge surrounding the pool. Her sister. Bridget let out a relieved breath that she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. She paused, partially hidden by the thick screen of bushes, and held up her hand to stop Zach. “Hold up,” she whispered. She wanted to see who her sister was talking to. Despite having left Hickory Lane five years ago, she automatically felt protective of her younger sibling.

  Liddie was sitting on a lounge chair wearing the only pair of jeans Bridget owned and one of her college T-shirts, her legs crossed under her. She looked like every other Englisch twenty-one-year-old. She was twirling her hair and flirting shamelessly with a young man, probably about her age, who wore a baseball cap pulled down low over his forehead, shadowing his eyes. This kid wouldn’t know what hit him when her sister disappeared as suddenly as she had appeared. Bridget’s stomach flipped. Her sister had better not tell him she was Amish. Former Amish. That was a secret Bridget kept from everyone. It was easier to say that she was from farm country. That usually stopped people in their tracks. People weren’t curious about farmers. Long ago, she had grown tired of being the object of curiosity of tourists who flooded her small hometown to see the Amish, as if they were some sort of reenactors there for their entertainment. She didn’t want to bring that kind of scrutiny upon herself unnecessarily.

  “We have to go.” The urgency in Zach’s voice, whispered close behind her, made goose bumps race across her arms. She still couldn’t wrap her head around the idea that she was in danger. What did you expect, silly girl?

  “Stay here.” Bridget touched the back of his hand and was surprised by how smooth it felt. Her eyes lifted to his, and something stretched between them. Inwardly she shook her head. There’s nothing there. He’s just doing his job. “Please, stay here.”

  “Hurry, please.” Zach gave her a subtle nod.

  “Hey, Liddie.” Bridget spun around and pushed down the latch on the security gate and entered the pool area, plastering on her best “nothing going on here” smile.

  “There you are.” Liddie leaned forward. “You’re late.” Her sister untucked her legs and planted each bare foot on either side of the lounge chair and wiggled her toes. She must have painted her toes pink when Bridget was at work. “This is my friend Jimmy. We’ve hung out at the pool a few times when you’re at work.”

  “Hi, Jimmy,” Bridget said politely, aware of Zach lurking behind the hedge where he
couldn’t be seen. Ordinarily, she’d feel protective of her sister hanging around some random guy, but today she was feeling protective for completely different reasons.

  “Hello.” Jimmy pulled his cap down lower.

  “Sit down, join us,” Liddie said. “Jimmy got here a few minutes ago when I was trying to get a shot of that cute chipmunk we saw the other day. Remember how cute it was?”

  “I’m afraid I made dinner plans for us and don’t have time to sit down,” Bridget said, pointing with her thumb in no particular direction. “Excuse us?”

  “Yeah, no prob.” Jimmy crossed his tattooed arms over his chest and settled in, apparently content to soak up the last of the evening sun.

  “We have dinner plans?” Still sitting, Liddie held up her hand to shield the sun from her eyes. “Wait, what happened to you?” Leave it to her little sister to recognize immediately when something was wrong. Bridget must have made a face, because Liddie added, “Your hair is messed up and...” Liddie scooted to the edge of the lounger, and it tipped precariously under her weight. Surprise flashed across her face, then she giggled and adjusted her position. The back legs of the lounger clattered against the cement. Liddie pivoted and scooted off and stood. “Are you okay?”

  Bridget played with her skirt, grateful its length hid the scrape on her leg.

  Liddie pulled up the fabric of Bridget’s skirt, revealing the angry red mark. “What happened here?”

  Heat pulsed off Bridget’s entire body. “I’m fine. I stumbled when I was crossing the street. I wasn’t paying attention. It was stupid.”

  Liddie frowned and flipped her hair over her shoulder. She had become an expert hair flipper during the short time that she had been here, considering she had to wear her hair neatly tucked under a kapp in Hickory Lane. “You’re the least clumsy person I know.”