by Mary Alford
“Let’s hope that doesn’t happen. But the sooner we get out of sight the better.”
“How much longer before we reach the barn?” All she could think about was the possibility that the killer had found them again.
He glanced over at her with a strained smile. “Not much longer. The sheriff’s sending one of his deputies to see if he can intercept the car. We’ll wait a few more minutes and then head out.”
As hard as she tried to relax, she couldn’t. It felt as if no matter what they did, the killer kept one step ahead of them.
Sutter’s phone rang and he answered it and listened. “What do you know about this man?” he asked, capturing Catherine’s attention. She heard enough of the one-sided conversation to realize the sheriff had located the owner of the car. They had a name.
Sutter shifted to look at her once he finished the call. “Sheriff Collins knows the owner. A man by the name of Silas Proctor. Believe it or not, he owns the local hardware store.”
Catherine struggled to process the information. “Do you think he’s the killer?”
“It’s doubtful. I can’t see him using a car registered to himself,” he said with a sigh. “But the owner of the car may know him or be part of this in some way. Anyway, let’s get back on the road. The sooner we’re done and back at the Warrens’ place, the better.”
Catherine slid into the seat beside Sutter again as he guided the buggy onto the road. As they headed off again, a glimmer of something from her past returned.
The mountains! There was something familiar about seeing them in the distance. Though probably not the same ones, she was positive she lived near mountains. She tried to hold on to the faintest of recollections.
Sutter urged the buggy onto a dirt road filled with potholes. The mare kept a steady pace as they continued for a while.
“This should be the place coming up on the left.”
Catherine studied the dilapidated barn, which had seen better days, as they turned onto the weedy, overgrown drive. There was no sign of a car.
“James isn’t here yet.” Sutter’s expression tightened. He checked the time. “We’re a few minutes early, but still...”
As they approached the barn, an uneasy feeling slipped into the pit of Catherine’s stomach. Something didn’t seem right.
Sutter guided the mare to the side of the building and hopped down. He glanced around the deserted countryside and she wondered if he felt it, as well.
After placing his hands around her waist, he lifted her down, and she could feel the warmth from his palms through her cloak. Their kiss dominated her thoughts.
Swallowing visibly, he held her prisoner with his gaze. “We should head inside. I’d feel better if we were out of sight,” he said, with a catch in his voice. Seconds passed. Neither of them moved. Then he took her hand in his. Together they headed to the front of the barn.
The door protested as Sutter slid it to the side. They went in and he closed the door again. It appeared to have been years since anyone used the place. The roof was still mostly intact, but several boards along one wall were missing. The wind whipped through the opening. Pale light pierced the holes.
“James should be here by now. I don’t like it.”
Outside, the noise of a car pulling up caught his attention.
“That must be him.” Still, Sutter sounded worried.
The words were barely out when the door opened. Catherine swung toward the noise. He was there. Dressed entirely in black with his face covered with the familiar ski mask from earlier, he’d found them.
Sutter pushed her behind him, but the man was right on top of them before he had a chance to draw his weapon. Catherine caught the glint of a knife and screamed. The killer slashed out at Sutter, and the knife made contact. Sutter clutched his side as blood stained his shirt, and he fell to his knees. The man’s foot slammed against Sutter’s injured side.
With him incapacitated, the killer turned to her. As she backed away, the same look of pleasure she’d seen on his face when he tortured her filled those eyes. He snatched her shoulders and yanked her close.
She kicked him and slammed her fists against his body, but nothing slowed him down as he dragged her toward the door.
The same vehicle from earlier was parked outside. He’d left it running for an easy getaway. She couldn’t get inside that car.
A sound behind them had the killer turning. A shot tore through the air. The masked man grabbed his arm and let her go. Catherine fell to the ground as he leaped toward the car. He climbed inside and jerked the vehicle around, barely missing her. Tires spewed chunks of mud and snow in their wake.
Sutter stumbled over to her. “Are you hurt?” he asked, clutching his side.
“I’m oke,” she forced herself to respond. He dropped to the ground beside her, unable to stand any longer.
“Sutter,” she yelled in panic.
“It’s not too deep,” he tried to assure her, though his voice was thready.
He took out his phone to call for help. The phone slipped from his hand, his eyes closed. Catherine grabbed the phone, heard James’s voice, and told him Sutter needed an ambulance.
“We’re on our way,” James assured her. “In the meantime, stay out of sight.”
Catherine punched the End button and dropped the phone into her apron pocket.
Beside her, Sutter’s eyes were closed and his breathing became shallow. “We need to get you inside the barn and out of the cold.” Catherine rose, put her arm around Sutter’s waist and managed to get him on his feet. He was so weak that he stumbled again. The full weight of his body leaning on her almost took them both down.
Somehow, she got him inside, terrified the killer would return to finish them both off.
Catherine guided him over to a weathered hay bale. Sutter slid to the ground and leaned against it.
“Don’t try to move,” she urged, as she knelt beside him and prayed, Please let him be oke.
The blast of sirens pulling up in front had never sounded so good. Help had arrived.
She glanced over at Sutter. He’d lost consciousness.
“Sutter!” She shook him. He muttered something incoherent.
The door opened and James raced over to them with two paramedics. Deputy Aden Scott followed, along with the DCI agents.
Sutter slowly opened his eyes.
“What happened?” James asked Catherine, his voice thick with concern.
She moved out of the way of the paramedics as they dropped next to Sutter and quickly unbuttoned his shirt.
“The killer was just here. He attacked Sutter with a knife, then tried to force me into the car, but Sutter shot him.” She pointed to the spot outside. “There are drops of blood there. Some of it must be his.”
James motioned to the two DCI agents. “There’s blood evidence outside.”
“We need to get you stabilized,” one of the paramedics told Sutter. They lowered him to the barn floor, laying him flat.
“Did you get a good look at the vehicle?” James asked Catherine, but it was hard to concentrate on what he said. All she could think about was Sutter. A paramedic eased his shirt free of the wound. The bloody gash ran the length of his left side.
Catherine covered her mouth with her fingers.
“He’s in the best possible hands,” James assured her. “Right now, I need your help.”
She forced her gaze from Sutter and collected her thoughts. “He was driving the same car that passed us earlier.”
One of the paramedics placed a cloth on the wound and then pressed down to stop the bleeding. When Sutter’s whole body clenched, Catherine knelt beside him and reached for his hand.
“Hang in there, buddy,” James urged.
When the paramedic removed the cloth, the wound no longer bled. Pouring saline onto some gauze, he gently
cleaned the injury, while Sutter gripped her hand to the point of crushing it. But she wouldn’t complain. He’d risked his life for her—again. Clean gauze was placed over the wound, then it was wrapped with a pressure bandage to prevent any further bleeding.
“We need to get you to the hospital right away,” the paramedic said, as soon as he finished bandaging the wound.
Sutter shook his head. “That won’t work. No hospital.” He held her gaze. “I’m not leaving Catherine’s side.”
The man snapped the medical bag closed and sat back on his heels. “Alright. I’ll give you antibiotics to keep the wound from getting infected and something for the pain. But you need to change the bandage regularly, and see a doctor as soon as possible to make sure it’s healing properly.”
Sutter moved slightly and winced. “I will. Thank you,” he managed to reply.
Several men and women from the crime scene unit arrived on site and started to process the barn.
Sutter tried to stand.
“Stay where you are, partner.” James eased him back against the hay bale. “You need to take it easy. That’s a serious injury.”
With a nod, Sutter closed his eyes, his breathing weak.
“We have an all-points out on the car and Silas Proctor. So far, he’s still missing. Chances are, he’ll ditch the car and take another.”
“What do we know about this Proctor guy?” Sutter asked in a thick voice, his words slightly slurred.
“Not much. He moved back here a few years back after he bought the hardware store. But get this, Proctor lived in Eagle’s Nest once before.”
“Let me guess,” Sutter said. “Around twenty years ago.”
“That’s right. He moved away for a long time, then came back.” James said.
“According to the sheriff, Proctor is married. He and his wife, June, have two children. Both are grown and moved away. Proctor goes to the local church. By all accounts, he’s a pillar of the community.”
“Which isn’t unheard of with serial killers. Usually, the family and friends are shocked to discover their loved one is a killer.” Sutter pulled in a breath, flinched. “Do you have the photo?”
“I do.” James opened a folder he’d brought with him and took out the photo. “I need to warn you,” he said, directing the words to Catherine, “she’s in pretty bad shape.”
Bracing herself, Catherine took the photo from James. She stared at the bruised and swollen face of the woman she’d known all her life. Her twin sister, Elizabeth.
* * *
Sutter watched Catherine study the woman in the photo.
“Do you remember anything new about your past?” he prompted, when she seemed incapable of speaking.
A tiny breath slipped from her lips. “No, I don’t.”
Not the news Sutter hoped to hear. He closed his eyes and leaned against the hay bale. His body was so weak he wasn’t sure he could stand up without help.
“I received a call from Sheriff Collins on my way here,” James told them. “Silas Proctor wasn’t at his home and no one’s seen him at the hardware store, either. The wife is out of town visiting their daughter, according to a neighbor. The sheriff is trying to get a warrant to search the house.”
Sutter slowly opened his eyes. “We need to get inside that house as soon as possible. Elizabeth could be there.” Was it possible this pillar of the community was really a serial killer? He wasn’t convinced.
“We’re working on it. Sheriff Collins said the outside doesn’t exactly fit Catherine’s description. Proctor lives in town, you see, and there was no dog. According to the people next door he’s the perfect neighbor.”
“Maybe he took the women to some other place to torture them. Somewhere more secluded. He’d keep the dog there for when he wasn’t around, to discourage anyone from prying.”
“It’s possible,” James said. “I’ll have the sheriff check to see if Proctor owns any other properties around the county.” He paused for a second. “Oh, and I almost forgot. I have a photo of Proctor to show you both.” He pulled it out of the folder. “Does this guy look familiar at all? The eyes fit both your descriptions.”
Sutter took the photo and studied it, while Catherine peered over his shoulder.
The eyes lacked the steely stare of a killer, but then again, this suspect was good at blending in. Hiding his deadly instincts. “It might be him.” He glanced at Catherine.
“I’m not sure, either.”
James put the folder away. “Hopefully, we’ll pick up Proctor soon and get some answers. With this new attack, we’ve pulled Megan and Cole from the house. It’s a bust.”
The suspect was smart. He hadn’t bought the deception. Until they knew for certain Proctor was their man, the less time they spent out in the open the better.
“Let’s get out of here. For the time being, I don’t think it’s safe to take the buggy. I’ll arrange to have it brought back later today,” James said.
Sutter agreed, though he hated feeling this helpless.
“Come on, buddy, I’ll help you to the car. I’m going to have Deputy Scott and Deputy Underwood come along with us. You’re in no condition to engage this killer again.”
Sutter didn’t argue. What he needed most was to regain his strength. To do that, he’d have to rest.
With his partner’s help, Sutter made it out to the car, where Catherine opened the passenger door. He slumped inside, his energy depleted. If the killer chose to come after them again, he wasn’t so sure he’d be much help.
Catherine slipped into the backseat while James took a call.
“How are you holding up?” she asked, her voice reflecting concern.
Sutter leaned against the headrest. “I’m doing alright.” Yet nothing could be further from the truth. Physically, his strength had taken a beating with the injury. His voice was weak.
James climbed into the driver’s seat and faced him. There was excitement in his eyes. “That was the sheriff. They’ve picked up Proctor just outside of Eagle’s Nest.”
Sutter sat up straighter. “That’s great. Was he driving the car?”
“No, and there’s still no sign of the vehicle. Deputy Clark pulled him over driving an SUV that’s registered to him.”
Sutter mentally calculated how long it would take to drive from their current location to Eagle’s Nest and get another vehicle. There would be enough time, though the margin for error was slim. His doubts about Proctor being their guy doubled.
James fired the car’s engine and pulled out onto the potholed road. “I’ll drop you and Catherine off at the Warrens’ place and head into town.”
Sutter was grateful to James for bringing along the two deputies. “Have you found anything about when Elizabeth’s husband passed away?” The rocking motion of the car made him acutely aware of his injuries.
“Nothing yet. I’ll keep searching,” James told him.
They reached the bridge separating the Amish community from the Englisch, and James slowed the car’s speed. Even with the extra police protection, Sutter couldn’t relax. He kept a close eye behind them. Since they’d left the barn, a feeling he had of being watched wouldn’t go away. All he could think about was how close to losing Catherine he’d come.
He cared about her. Couldn’t let anything else happen to Catherine. He’d kissed her. Wanted to keep right on kissing her, and that should have been his first clue he was heading into dangerous territory. Try as he might, he couldn’t see a future for them, and it hurt like crazy to think that once this case ended, he’d never see her again.
The car rolled to a stop in front of the Warrens’ home. Sutter opened the door to get out, but the pain in his side was too much. He fell back against the seat. He couldn’t remember ever feeling this weak before.
James came around to his side. “I’ve got you, buddy.” While Sutter wrapp
ed his arm around James’s shoulder, his partner heaved him out of the car.
Pain ripped through his side and he clamped down on his bottom lip. “Hang on a second,” he said, as sweat beaded his forehead.
Noah emerged from the house. Seeing Sutter in trouble, he assisted James in getting him inside, while Catherine again held the door. “I’ll have one of the deputies go with you to retrieve the horse and buggy,” James told Noah. “Sutter was in no condition to drive it back.”
Two cruisers pulled up in front of the house. Aden and Cole climbed out and came in after them.
While James spoke with the deputies, Sutter eased his frame down into one of the rockers. Every breath sliced pain through his midsection. His body cried out for rest, yet Sutter was anxious to hear what Proctor had to say.
Catherine slipped into the chair next to his and reached for his hand. Her gentle touch made him smile. He liked being with her, holding her hand. For a moment, he closed his eyes and let the world around him fade.
Time passed in peace.
“Being here reminds me of my childhood,” he said, almost to himself.
“It’s so peaceful.” Catherine hesitated. “Have you ever thought about returning?”
He opened his eyes and glanced at her. “Many times.” That much was true. “The first year after I left it was all I could think about. Yet every time I went home, Thomas was there waiting for me...along with my guilt.” His smile turned bitter.
She enveloped his hand in both of hers. “Thomas wouldn’t want you to blame yourself for what happened, Sutter. Holding on to guilt separates us from the ones we love. From Gott.”
Sutter looked away from the compassion in her eyes. “He could have saved my brother. He didn’t.”
Letting go of his hand, Catherine clasped his cheek and turned him to face her. “Gott didn’t kill your brother. You didn’t kill Thomas. A reckless driver took your bruder’s life. Someday you’ll understand that. I just hope it doesn’t come too late. Don’t waste your life on blame, Sutter. None of us know how much time we have here on earth. You should use it wisely.”
Was it possible after all these years? The guilt had become his constant companion. But looking into her eyes, he wanted to try...for her. Sutter turned her hand up and kissed her palm. She sucked in a shaky breath. More than anything, he wanted to keep right on looking into her eyes. Forget the killer breathing down their necks. Accept the hope she offered.