Amish Christmas Abduction (Amish Country Justice Book 3)

by Dana R. Lynn

  Deliberately, he turned on the radio. More to drown out his own thoughts than anything else. He was amazed that she didn’t seem to be disgusted with him after what he’d told her. How could she not be?

  He came to a stop at a red light.

  Jace never judged you. Why should she?

  He blinked, momentarily dazzled by the epiphany. An epiphany cut short by a small beep from the car behind them. Oops. The light was green. It must have been green for a while for someone to honk their horn at a police car.

  “I can’t believe someone just honked at you!” Irene exclaimed, surprised out of her silence. Feeling a bit lighter, he chuckled and rolled down the window to wave at the annoyed driver.

  “Nah. I was woolgathering when I should have been paying closer attention. Besides, it’s not like they whaled on the horn. It was a polite beep.”

  He grinned at her snort, much happier than he’d been an hour ago.

  Two hours later, they arrived at their destination—a large two-story brick house just outside of Pittsburgh, currently housing an Amish child who’d been stolen from her family. There were two cars in the drive, which had been meticulously shoveled. The house was completely decked out for Christmas, even more than Mrs. Tucker’s. There was even a plastic sleigh on the roof.

  “I hate that we’re going to break their hearts.” Although Irene wasn’t facing him, the sadness in her voice was clear. He covered her hand with his, resealing the connection he’d almost destroyed.

  “I don’t want to sound cruel, Irene, but the truth is that we have to. Somewhere, there’s a mother and father mourning for their daughter.”

  She nodded. When she finally faced him, her blue eyes were clear. “Thanks for letting me come.”

  “You kidding me? Like I’d leave you unguarded again. Uh-uh. You’re stuck with me until this man gunning for you is put behind bars.”

  She flashed a smile his way. “Thanks, Paul. Okay. Let’s go do this thing.”

  It was a hard visit. The parents were belligerent at first. They called their lawyer, who told them to do nothing until she arrived. So they were stuck waiting until she did. The animosity seething from the new parents was almost tangible. The little girl, however, was delightful—from the little they saw of her.

  “How old do you think she is,” Paul whispered to Irene when the woman left the room to take the little girl upstairs for a nap. To Paul’s thinking, the kid hadn’t looked in the least sleepy. Most likely, her new parents wanted to get her away from them. Couldn’t blame them. Unfortunately, it wouldn’t help.

  “She’s not much more than a year,” Irene whispered back. “Not much language yet, and she’s still not quite walking steady.”

  The man sitting across from them glared, and they lapsed into silence.

  Finally, the lawyer arrived. The first thing she did was question Irene’s presence. Paul had already thought that one through.

  “Irene is a special-education teacher trained to interact with emotionally fragile children—and we had reason to believe that might be the case here. The child that the kidnapping organization had originally planned to sell to your clients had been treated so harshly by men that only women were able to get near her.” All true.

  The mother’s eyes grew wide with horror. “There was another child? What do you mean?”

  Despite the pang of sympathy that struck him, he did his job.

  “They kidnapped another girl, but didn’t realize until afterward that she had Down syndrome. They didn’t want to chance you backing out and demanding your money be returned. They stole the baby upstairs from Indiana, leaving her parents to think she’d been killed.”

  The look the woman gave her husband said it all. She wouldn’t have accepted Mary Ann. Paul tightened his lips, holding his anger inside.

  At that point, the lawyer demanded to see the couple’s paperwork. Paul raised his eyebrows. He suspected that the couple had done the “adoption” without the lawyer. Her frown grew deeper as she read. The adoptive parents must have been able to gauge her expression because they were ashen by the time she looked up. “Christine. Jim. I am so sorry. None of these papers would hold up in court. They are a complete mockery. I wish you had consulted me before you started the adoption process.”

  He had been right. Not that there was any joy in it.

  “But she is still ours, right?” Christine demanded. “We paid them ten thousand dollars. Doesn’t that count for anything?”

  Some of his sympathy vanished. “It doesn’t matter how much you paid for her,” Paul cut in. “The child was kidnapped from her real parents.”

  Her face grew red. “I don’t mean to be unfeeling toward her birth parents. I really don’t. But they already think she’s dead. Please, we love her. She’s our heart now.”

  “Christine.” The lawyer’s voice was unyielding. “You need to go get the child now. She is not yours, and if you don’t give her up, the police are well within their rights to charge you with conspiracy to kidnap.”

  That finally got through to the weeping couple. Paul and Irene stood by grimly while they woke the child, crying over her. The wife held on tight at the last moment. Her husband eased the child out of her resisting arms and handed the baby to Irene. He caught his wife as she collapsed, sobbing.

  “You need to go now,” he ordered.

  Paul held Irene’s elbow as she carried the baby to the car. The little girl cried as she was buckled into the car seat. Irene sat in back with her to try to comfort the child as best as she could. What a rough few days the little one had been through.

  Fortunately, they didn’t have to go all the way back to Indiana to return her. Brenda had given them the family’s name and address and Paul had sent two officers to Indiana to fetch the parents. They had left the night before. Sergeant Jackson had sent him a text saying they were on their way back earlier that morning. By the time they arrived at the station, they were already there.

  Paul led Irene and the girl into the station. A sudden cry rent the room. “Edith!”

  The baby in Irene’s arms wiggled like a worm, desperate to get down. The moment Irene set her down, she was off, running on unsteady legs into her mam’s arms. The little family huddled close together, speaking in Pennsylvania Dutch together as if they were alone.

  Paul noticed that the officers all had silly, sappy smiles on their faces. He had started to shake his head when he realized he was grinning, too. Irene wasn’t just smiling. She was radiant at the sight of the parents being reunited with their child.

  “Danke. Danke,” the parents said to him and Irene as they made to go home with their child. “We thought our Edith was dead. Gott has blessed us. Our daughter is alive. Danke for finding her.”

  One family reunited. One to go.

  And one killer still on the loose.

  * * *

  Joy was amazing. It energized you and wore you out at the same time.

  Irene slipped into bed that night so exhausted she was sure she’d never get to sleep. But soon she was nodding off. That’s when the nightmares came. Nightmares of men with black beards chasing her. Strangers wearing hooded sweatshirts shooting at her. Walking into the kitchen and her mother telling her someone had kidnapped the boys as she cooked pancakes for breakfast.

  Irene woke up, fear pumping through her blood, the urge to run still fighting with reality.

  The children are safe. There is a police officer right outside. She checked on her boys and Mary Ann anyway. They were all three snug in their beds, asleep.

  What to do now? Going back to bed was out of the question. As much as she needed more sleep, she dreaded the prospect of another nightmare.

  The unsettled feeling continued as she went to the kitchen to fix herself a cup of tea, hoping it might settle her down. She filled the kettle and put it o
n the stove. While she was waiting, she let her thoughts wonder. Over Mary Ann. Her boys. Paul. What was she feeling toward him? And how was he feeling toward her? She reviewed his story about his past. It didn’t bother her as much as he’d expected it to, that was clear. The thing was, she knew that people had weaknesses. And she also knew Paul. His strength. His dedication. He was an honest man who had fallen once. Of course, she could forgive him for that. But forgiving him wasn’t the same as trusting him with her heart. He was still a cop—was that an obstacle she’d ever be able to overcome?

  As she pondered, her gaze fell on her mother’s well-worn Bible.

  When had she last read the Word of God? Contrition touched her heart. Sorry, Lord.

  Pulling the book off the table, she held it reverently in her hands for a few minutes. When her tea was ready, she carried the Bible to the table with her and opened it randomly. It fell open to Matthew. The Sermon on the Mount. Her gaze landed on Matthew 5:4.

  “Blessed are those who mourn—they will be comforted.”

  At that moment, she felt God’s presence stronger than she had in the past three years. She had mourned. And if she let Him, her God would comfort her. She remained at the table for another hour, her tea forgotten as she deliberately set about spending time with the Lord and allowing Him to minister to her broken heart.

  * * *

  Irene was ready and waiting by the time Paul picked her up at eight. The boys had eaten breakfast and gone to school with Sergeant Zee. Irene couldn’t quite bring herself to call the woman “Claire,” even though she’d been invited to. For some reason, she felt safer sending her boys off with efficient Sergeant Zee than with the friendly, vivacious Claire. Strange, but that’s the way a mother’s heart worked sometimes.

  Mary Ann was finishing up her breakfast, too. Rather, she was throwing her breakfast. Irene was busy cleaning the cereal up off the floor when the doorbell rang. Her pulse skittered.

  “Okay, baby girl, we gotta get you all cleaned up and pretty. Hopefully, we’ll find your parents today.” She was careful not to say mam or dat so she wouldn’t get the toddler worked up.

  “Pow, Pow.” Mary Ann shrieked happily.

  Pow? Irene wrinkled her brow and searched through her vocabulary. Then it hit her. Mary Ann was trying to say “Paul,” but the baby couldn’t manage the l sound yet. Irene racked her brain for other words she’d heard Mary Ann say. There were only a handful, which wasn’t odd. Maybe she had said words that were unclear and in Pennsylvania Dutch. Or maybe she had a language delay due to the Down syndrome. Either way, Irene didn’t know how well her parents would take that one of her first words was the name of an Englisch cop. Well, they probably wouldn’t care, she decided. They’d be so overjoyed at getting their baby back it wouldn’t matter what she said.

  Irene and Mary Ann went out to meet Paul. His eyes were covered with dark sunglasses today. She missed seeing his eyes, but had to admit he was gorgeous. Flushing, she put the baby in the car seat, wishing she hadn’t braided her hair so it could provide some shielding to her red cheeks. She felt like a schoolgirl.

  “Morning, Red.” There was that smooth-as-velvet drawl.

  It was going to be a long day.

  “Good morning, Paul.”

  In the end, it wasn’t as long a day as they’d expected. Mary Ann traveled very well, and kept up a long string of giggles and babbling from the back seat. Several times, Paul and Irene exchanged grins at the noises.

  The trip was around five hours long, due to stops to eat or to get out and let Mary Ann stretch her legs or have her diaper changed. At one stop, Irene offered Paul a tin of homemade cookies, courtesy of her mom. As he took one, their fingers touched. Electricity shot up her arm. This time, she didn’t pull away. This time, she stayed where she was and watched him as he watched her, unable to look away.

  He’s going to kiss me, she thought. Maybe? Yes. His head moved closer.

  “Irene?”

  Was he asking for permission? She didn’t know what to do. It didn’t matter. He seemed to take her lack of response as consent. His head came closer. She felt his breath on her lips.

  “Pow! Pow!” Mary Ann toddled over and pushed herself in between them, jabbering away.

  They’d almost kissed! She was in mortal danger, they were on a mission, and they’d almost kissed! What were they thinking?

  She couldn’t regret it, though. Her blood was still hammering in her veins.

  “Well,” she said, to relieve the tension, “at least we know she’s not afraid of you anymore.”

  “Pow?” Paul frowned quizzically.

  “That’s how she says ‘Paul,’” Irene relied gently.

  His eyes widened. Then he did something that melted her heart. He leaned over and kissed the bonneted head. When he looked back at her, his eyes were shining.

  That’s how he’d look when his child said “Daddy” for the first time.

  She shouldn’t go there. Maybe when the case was behind them. But, for now, she needed to remember that there was a man out there whose mission it was to end her life. It was only a matter of time before he attacked again.

  FOURTEEN

  They arrived in Holmes County, Ohio, after one o’clock in the afternoon. Irene was amazed. She had thought there was a large Amish population where she lived. Here, though, the Amish community was bristling with activity. Buggies were everywhere.

  It didn’t take long to find the first address on Paul’s list. It was quite a distance from most of the houses, but Irene wasn’t surprised by that. According to Brenda, one of the criteria for the children they kidnapped was that the family lived out of the way. This place definitely qualified.

  The woman who came to the door watched them warily. She wasn’t exactly unhelpful, but neither was she able to give them any new information. Yes, their family had suffered an accident lately. Some of the local kids had been smoking in the barn. No one had died. They’d lost some farm equipment. She didn’t recognize Mary Ann, nor was she aware of any missing children with Down syndrome.

  Irene sighed, discouraged, as they started driving again.

  “Hey, now, don’t do that.” Paul reached out and put his hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently. “We now have one less place on our list. Which means the probability of one the next houses being the right one has gone up proportionally.”

  Irene laughed, shaking her head. “You’ve been spending too much time with Miles. That’s the sort of geeky thing he would say.”

  Paul laughed with her. There was no rancor in the words or the laughter. The sergeant was dear to them all.

  The next house was much the same as the first, although this time there were several children about and a couple of youths working in the barn. They were very kind. Irene liked them immensely.

  But they were not Mary Ann’s family.

  “I will pray that Gott will lead you to the right family,” the woman said.

  “Thank you. We appreciate it,” Irene returned. Paul raised an eyebrow. She smiled back. She had meant every word.

  They returned to the car and resumed driving. By now, Mary Ann had grown tired of traveling. She cried and tried to wiggle out of her seat. When she couldn’t get free, she shrieked. Irene was afraid she’d have a headache before they arrived at the next place.

  But arrive they did.

  “Are we interrupting some kind of event, do you think?”

  There were buggies and people everywhere. Kids and adults. Despite the cold weather, there was a crowd of people outside. On one side of the house was a large hill. She could see children sledding on it.

  “I don’t know. I guess we’ll find out.” Paul said.

  Sighing, she nodded and got out of the car. Their arrival had a domino effect. People stopped what they were doing to watch the unknown Englisch
ers get out of the police cruiser. Irene immediately went to the back to retrieve Mary Ann. The child’s shrieks filled the air as Irene opened the door.

  If they didn’t have someone’s attention before, they had it now.

  Thankfully, the crying stopped abruptly when Irene unstrapped her from the car seat. As soon as Irene reappeared with a suddenly smiling Mary Ann in her arms a murmur spread through the crowd. Irene saw one of the children run into the house.

  “Mam!” the child yelled.

  Within seconds, the door flew open, and adults spilled from the house. In the front was a pretty Amish woman with a black dress and red hair peeping out from under her bonnet. Her pale cheeks were wet, tears flooding down them. Right behind her came a man, crying, as well.

  Mary Ann saw them and reacted as if she’d been electrified. She shrieked and shook and struggled in Irene’s arms. Irene set her down. “Mam. Da. Mam. Da.” The words tumbled out of her little mouth, over and over.

  Her parents rushed to their baby and knelt to embrace her, paying no attention to the snow. Their reaction, the love and joy on the faces, was so similar to that of Edith’s parents.

  “We knew our baby was not dead,” Mary Ann’s father stated, rising to greet the newcomers. “How did you find her?”

  Irene let Paul take the lead on this one. She was overcome watching the touching reunion.

  “She was kidnapped by people who wanted to sell her in an adoption scam.”

  Both parents gaped at Paul, apparently dumbfounded.

  “How did you rescue her?” Mrs. Lapp whispered, her face distraught.

  Irene finally spoke up. “One of the kidnappers had a change of heart. She hid Mary Ann in my car when I left it unlocked.”

  She decided not to go into the rest—such as Eddie’s plans for disposing of Mary Ann.

  Paul rubbed her shoulder. Reassurance?