Amish Christmas Abduction (Amish Country Justice Book 3)

by Dana R. Lynn

  Her voice ended, and it was followed by a beep. There was a pause, then a man’s voice. “You won’t get away with what you’ve done. I will make sure of that.”

  Click.

  “Who was that?” Paul growled.

  Irene looked at him. If anyone could help her, it was him. He’d already proved that keeping her safe was his priority. The desire to run into his arms rushed over her and was hard to resist.

  Something dropped behind her, and both she and Paul whirled toward the crash. Mary had upended a box of CDs Irene kept on the floor near the player and was picking them up one by one, enthralled. No wonder—they wouldn’t have been something she would’ve had access to in the Amish world.

  Irene glanced around her house. It was no longer baby-proofed now that both her boys were in school. A frown settled on her face. That was something she’d need to take care of if Mary would be staying with her for long...but she still hoped that wouldn’t be the case, for Mary’s family’s sake.

  She sent up a cautious prayer. Lord, help us find her family quickly. Being in danger had sure given her a wake-up call to how much she needed God in her life.

  Paul was still waiting for her reply. She told him about the phone calls and wasn’t surprised when he hit the roof over the fact that she hadn’t mentioned them before.

  “How am I supposed to protect you when you keep secrets like that?”

  She grimaced. He had a point. “I didn’t intend to keep any secrets. I truly did forget about the calls when someone started creeping around my house.”

  Grumbling, Paul walked into the other room. She could hear him talking on his cell phone. When he returned, his usual calm demeanor was back in place. Funny, how she seemed to be the one who kept making him lose his cool.

  “Okay, here’s what we’ll do. I am having your phone calls monitored. If we can trace the caller, that would be great. I would also appreciate if you kept me apprised of any other suspicious attempts to contact you—including through social media or email. Deal?”

  “Absolutely.” She wasn’t a fool.

  “Okay. There’s nothing more we can do right now, so let’s get on the road.”

  Paul had made coffee and placed it in travel mugs. Irene added cream and sugar to hers, then donned her coat and stuck her gloves into her pockets. Carrying Mary in her arms, with the diaper bag slung over her shoulder, she followed Paul out to his cruiser. She saw him grab the cooler of food she’d packed. When they got to the cruiser, she noticed for the first time that he had a car seat in the back seat. She raised her eyebrow. He shrugged.

  “When Seth texted that he’d be coming over with the clothes, I asked him to stop at the hospital and pick it up. They keep them for emergencies. I installed it while you were busy.” He opened her door, and she slipped into the passenger seat. A jolt of electricity shot up her arm when her bare hand came into contact with his. Averting her eyes, she scolded herself silently for letting him get to her.

  Did he feel it, too? No, she didn’t want to know. Still, the temptation to sneak a peek at his handsome profile when he joined her in the confines of the vehicle got the better of her. His face was bland. Which meant he was probably unaffected by her presence.

  She was not disappointed by that. Definitely not. The last person she wanted to be interested in her was Paul Kennedy.

  * * *

  The route through Spartansburg, Pennsylvania, was one winding curve after another. The main road was paved, but the majority of the smaller roads shooting off from them were dirt and gravel. Many of the signs with the street names were faded beyond readability. Some of the signs were missing completely.

  On the way into town, they stopped at several of the farms, getting out and carrying Mary up to the houses to see if anyone recognized her.

  “I don’t know of any kinder that have gone missing,” one woman said kindly, her hand resting on the shoulder of her own child, a boy of only five or six. He leaned against his mother’s side, wide blue eyes staring up at the strangers.

  “Thanks for your time,” Paul said, trying to keep the frustration from showing in his voice.

  At the next house, Mary put up a fuss when they got her out of her seat, wailing and twisting until Irene set her on the ground to let her walk. Even then, she folded her little arms across her chest and refused to move, a definite pout forming, pushing out her lower lip.

  Paul was amazed at how calm and gentle Irene remained, no matter how stubborn the little girl got.

  This time, when the small group managed to make it up to the house, the husband and wife were both there. Paul was disappointed but unsurprised when they denied knowing the child.

  “You might find someone who knows more at the diner in town, ain’t so?” The young husband glanced to his wife for confirmation.

  “Ja.” She nodded her head emphatically. “That is a gut idea. Many people go through there every day, and some of them are traveling. They might have heard something from another town.”

  Finally, an idea he could run with. For the first time that morning he felt a bit of anticipation. He thanked the couple, then he and Irene returned a fractious Mary to her car seat. He aimed the cruiser back toward town. Mary continued fussing.

  “It’s okay, baby,” Irene crooned. “I have something for you.” Opening the cooler she’d laid at her feet, she dug around inside until she retrieved a green sippy cup with a triumphant “Aha!”

  Mary tugged the offered cup out of the Irene’s hand and started drinking, making loud slurping sounds.

  He snickered, then shot a glance at Irene and was rewarded by a smile that shot his pulse into orbit. When was the last time he’d shared such a simple moment with her?

  Reality crashed down on him. He knew he had feelings for her, but he couldn’t allow them to grow. There was too much baggage in his past for a classy woman like her. Plus, once she knew of his secret battles, she might be repulsed. And he wouldn’t blame her. Not one bit. He returned his eyes to the road ahead.

  Ten minutes later, he parked in front of the diner. Irene got out and released Mary from her seat. She put the wiggly child down to let her walk, but kept a tight grip on her little hand. Paul held the door for Irene, then followed her inside.

  Letting his eyes adjust for a moment, Paul turned his attention to their quest and began talking with the nearest stranger. Soon, his hope and patience were rewarded. Although no one recognized Mary, a new bit of information came to light.

  “I don’t know of anyone around here who is missing a daughter with Down syndrome,” one woman said, wiping her hands on her simple apron as she left the kitchen area.

  “Well, now, hold on, Ruth.” A tall, lanky man unfolded himself from the chair where he’d been sitting, enjoying a large breakfast of biscuits and sausage gravy. “I didn’t think anything of it before, but remember what Carl said?” He glanced around the restaurant at the mix of Englisch and Amish folk gathered. A couple of the Amish people nodded their heads, troubled frowns gathering on their brows.

  A tingle went up his spine. Something had happened. Something that might just have a bearing on his case and, hopefully, lead them to getting that sweet baby back to her family. Irene was leaning forward, her eyes intent. She was holding Mary again. The child had her head against Irene’s shoulder with a thumb in her mouth, sucking loudly. Her other little hand played with a ribbon hanging down from her starched white bonnet.

  “What did you hear? Please, anything could help us.” He swallowed back his frustration. The hesitation to share information in front of him was obvious. He understood that the Amish felt uncomfortable discussing community problems with the secular authorities, but come on. Surely, everyone would want to work together to get a child home?

  “I do not know all the details,” one of the Amish men began, drawing his words out slowly, as if weigh
ing each one. “There was an accident at an Amish farm. A fire, I seem to recall. One of the kinder couldn’t be located after it was out. The whole community searched. It was thought the young one had died in the fire. I recall hearing she had Down syndrome.”

  Irene gasped, her hands moving to cradle Mary closer. Paul could almost hear her thoughts. She was putting herself in the mother’s place. Feeling the grief in her heart. That was one of the things he’d always found so amazing about Irene. She was the most empathetic person he’d ever known. That’s why he’d run so fast from her all those years ago. He couldn’t risk dragging her down with him.

  Now was not the time to reminisce, he scolded himself. Now was the time for action. He needed to get this child home and find the kidnappers before they could hurt either Irene or Mary again.

  “Okay, so where can we find this family?” Paul asked, thinking the sooner the better.

  The woman named Ruth spoke up. “I don’t think they live around here. Samuel?” She looked back at the man who’d talked about the fire.

  “Nee. Carl Zook had heard about them from his brother. He said they were from Ohio, but he didn’t know the family himself.”

  Ohio. They needed to get back in the car. Even as he thought that, Paul noticed the way Irene’s shoulders sank. She would be away from her boys longer. It couldn’t be helped. They would do what they needed to.

  “Maybe we could talk with this Carl fellow before driving to Ohio?” Irene asked, her voice soft. Mary had fallen asleep.

  “Ja, that would be a gut idea.” Ruth nodded. “He keeps to himself. I don’t know if he will talk with you. His place is a little out-of-the-way. But Samuel can give you directions.”

  Samuel grunted, then accepted the paper and pen she handed him. He proceeded to draw a map on the paper. The directions were rather convoluted. Paul would have much preferred to use the GPS, but no one in the restaurant knew Carl’s exact address.

  This would have to do.

  Thus equipped, they thanked the crowd gathered and turned to depart.

  “Young man.”

  Paul pivoted to face Ruth again. He was a bit tickled to be referred to as “young man.” He’d started to feel every one of his thirty-two years lately.

  Ruth moved to him, her hand gently touching the sleeping child. “Have faith. Gott is gut. He will help you. You must trust Him.”

  Paul was moved. “I do, ma’am. Every day, I do.”

  She gave a satisfied nod, then shifted her head to assess Irene. “And you?”

  Irene bit her lip. Paul really felt for her. He knew from Jace that her faith had taken a beating since Tony had died. He couldn’t blame her. His own heart had felt bruised when he’d lost his friend. But he had never lost faith. She had. Would she ever get it back?

  “I haven’t trusted God for a while,” she admitted. Paul was shocked. Irene had always been a private person, especially when it came to her faith. “I thought He had abandoned me. But I am reevaluating that now.”

  What? Paul felt his jaw drop at this admission. A tiny spark of joy ignited in his heart. He’d been praying for her to find her lost faith for the past three years, but never had he imagined a conversation such as this one.

  “Gut, child. Gott will not abandon you. You must always remember that. He is always there. Even when we cannot feel Him.”

  “Thank you.” Irene’s whisper was rich with feeling.

  Paul guided them back out to the cruiser. He almost bumped into a fellow scurrying along the sidewalk, hands deep in the pockets of a camouflage coat. The man mumbled an apology, but never slowed down.

  Some people. Paul shook his head, disgusted at the fellow’s rudeness, then dismissed it from his mind. Too many other things to focus on.

  Irene immediately set about tucking Mary back into the car seat.

  He had the oddest sensation that they were being watched. The hairs on the back of his neck prickled. He glanced around in a full circle. Nothing.

  He didn’t relax.

  “Get in the car,” he commanded.

  Irene was startled, but complied without question. He got in and started the engine. He drove away, constantly looking in the mirrors and searching the horizon.

  “Paul, what is it? You’re scaring me.” Irene followed his gaze, her own face growing pale.

  “I don’t know if anything’s wrong. All I know is that I have the feeling I am missing something. No clue what, though. Keep your eyes and ears open, will you?”

  “Always.” Irene sighed and settled back in her seat. “So where are we going?”

  Paul handed her the map. “Here, you look at it. I can’t while I’m driving. Samuel said that Carl lived up past Buells Corners. Hopefully, he’ll be able to tell us where Mary’s family is. And that will put us one step closer to finding the people responsible for the kidnapping, and for murdering the paramedic yesterday.” The people who are also after you. He didn’t say the last part. “Read the directions off to me.”

  She did so.

  They weren’t as bad as he’d thought at first. Within twenty minutes, they were pulling onto the road that should take them to Carl’s house.

  They swung into his dirt driveway and Paul cut the engine. Everything was still. He would have expected more activity on a Monday morning. The folks back at the diner said Carl worked from home. Some kind of furniture business out in his barn.

  His intuition was going haywire.

  “Stay in the car.”

  Without looking to see if she would do as he ordered, Paul left the cruiser, locking the doors behind him. Then he approached the house, one hand over his service weapon so he could draw it quickly if necessary. His feet made tracks in the day-old snow as he climbed the stairs.

  The door was open. Not much, only an inch, but more than a person would leave open on a freezing cold December day. He moved to the door, already dreading what he would find inside the old farmhouse. With all his heart, he hoped he was wrong.

  “Mr. Zook? Are you home? Hello?” he didn’t expect an answer and he didn’t get one.

  He put his hand on the door and gave it a gentle push. It swung open, creaking eerily on its hinges. Peering inside, he saw an immaculate house sparsely decorated.

  He also saw a body on the floor, a pool of blood spreading out around it.

  EIGHT

  The back door was wide-open.

  Whoever had been here had left in a hurry. Probably when they’d pulled up.

  Irene! He abandoned his calm and drew his service weapon. Then he raced back outside and off the porch. He ran straight to the car and hopped in. Irene was staring at him, blue eyes wide and alarmed. He didn’t have time to calm her. If Carl’s shooter had hung around, then she was a sitting duck in the cruiser. Someone standing outside with a gun could pick her off at any moment. It made him want to rush her indoors.

  But he had no idea if the shooter was still inside the house, waiting for her.

  “You need to stay down. Carl Zook has been shot. I have no idea if he’s alive, but I don’t want to leave you here as a target. I’m going to call for backup. Corry is only ten miles away. The Corry police can be here in a relatively short time.”

  Irene’s face had lost all color. But she met his gaze squarely. She shocked him by reaching out and placing one slim hand on his cheek. He swallowed and covered her hand with his. If he lived to be a hundred, he would always treasure that small gesture.

  “Paul, be careful.”

  He smiled. It felt wobbly. “I will. But y’all need to get out of sight so I don’t worry.”

  Without another word, she scrambled into the back seat with Mary, unhooked the little girl and brought her down on the floor with her to play a rousing game of patty-cake. The sight mesmerized him. He’d seen her with her boys. She was a wond
erful mother. The thought of her sitting and playing with his child, too, sneaked into his mind.

  He shoved the thought away. Enough. He wasn’t accomplishing anything. There were too many blind spots inside the car. Paul let himself out of the cruiser and crouched beside it. Keeping low, he brought out his phone and called the police. He would have to wait for them to arrive before he went over the scene. While he was anxious to check it out, if he got himself shot he’d leave Irene and Mary in more danger than they were in now.

  So he waited. And prayed.

  By the time he heard sirens indicating the police had arrived, his leg was cramped. He stumbled against the cruiser briefly when he stood, but managed to steady himself. He saw Irene watching him from her position on the floor. She was so beautiful. Frightened, pale, angry. It didn’t matter. Seeing her and knowing she was well was a balm to his soul.

  He would do whatever was necessary to keep her safe. It was more than duty. She was a woman in a million, and he would do right by her—as a friend, since he knew he’d blown his chance of them ever being anything more.

  “Chief Kennedy?”

  He faced the female officer approaching him. “Yes, Officer.”

  “Lieutenant Nickols,” she introduced herself, pointing to the rectangular pin bearing her name. “Have you checked the scene yet?”

  As if he were a rookie? He held in a smile. “No, Lieutenant. I have a woman and child in my vehicle. I couldn’t risk their lives.”

  She was surprised, understandably so. Not many civilians were taken to crime scenes. To her credit, she just nodded and began the search with her partner. Between the two of them, they determined that the house was safe.

  They also checked on Carl Zook.

  “Hey, Chief!” Lieutenant Nickols yelled out. “This guy’s alive! I got a pulse here. Not a strong one, but it’s there.”

  Thank you, Jesus.

  While they were searching, the ambulance arrived.

  The crew immediately started to work on the injured man.