Ryan leaned forward. “No telling. I remember you mentioning that Daniel went a little wild in his early days of freedom. Perhaps he ran with the Ogden clan and committed crimes that might come back to bite him in the ass.”
Shaking my head, I disagreed. “It’s highly unlikely Daniel did anything so serious that charges would be made at this late date. It sounded more like an embarrassment.” My mind went back to the Buddy Prowes’ investigation in Pennsylvania. It turned out that Daniel was sleeping with a woman who convinced another man to murder her husband. He had no idea what was going on at the time, but it was proof that he had been easily swept up into crap when he was younger.
In another lifetime, I wouldn’t have hesitated to speak my mind to Ryan, but lately, something had shifted between us, and I was forced to actually consider my words carefully. “I’d worried that Zeke Bachman or the Moretti’s had something to do with the murder at Charlie’s.”
Ryan didn’t hesitate. “I don’t blame you for considering it, but Bachman doesn’t seem like the killer type.”
I bit my lower lip, taking a gamble. “He’s a ghost. Neither Todd nor I could come up with anything at all on him. Are you sure he’s working for the Italians?”
Ryan ran his hand through his hair. He looked disturbed, but when he opened his mouth, the tension on his face was gone. “It was my job to keep an eye on the crime family. Even though their activity has diminished over the years, they still hold power in the city. With their connections to the Chicago syndicate, it gets more complicated. Following those guys is like going down rabbit holes. They know how to cover their tracks. Most prosecutors won’t touch them unless there’s overwhelming evidence—which there rarely is. They’re king makers, you know? Many politicians rise locally and then head to Washington off hidden donations from crime family businesses.” He made an angry, huffing sound. “They’re all corrupt, straight to the top.”
I listened thoughtfully and sighed. “What does all that have to do with a minor player, like ex-Amish Zeke Bachman?”
“Trust me on this, Serenity. I can’t tell you my sources or how I know, but Bachman has his hands in a lot of different jars. Moretti is just one of them.” His gaze was fierce. “The bishop is right. You should force the guy out of Blood Rock as soon as possible.”
10
Daniel
Beside the sound of the windshield wipers going back and forth, the music on low in the Jeep kept the moment from being completely awkward. The only light in the sky was on the western horizon. The day had gone by quickly, and I looked forward to it being over. For years I’d desperately missed my Amish family. Now that they were back in my life, I sometimes questioned whether it was for the best. Family drama could be harsh. Glancing over at my niece, I knew this was one of those unwelcome times.
Sarah stared straight ahead, like a delicate and very sad statue. She had reluctantly come with me. I’d already phoned Jonathon Troyer about stopping by to speak to his son Matthew, so when I turned the Jeep into their driveway, I was sure no one would be startled. I knew Jonathon from childhood, and even though I’d gone English, he still trusted me enough to allow me to talk with Matthew. My old friend accepted me as Sarah’s uncle and an ambassador of sorts for the family in regard to the teenagers’ relationship. Jonathon was still supporting their union, even though my sister and her husband were upset with Matthew’s show of affection. Whatever was going on between the two kids didn’t have anything to do with Matthew’s family. Hopefully the boy would tell me the truth.
I had many things to say to the girl, but at the same time, didn’t feel comfortable speaking at all.
Sarah took care of it for me. “I don’t want to be here,” she said firmly.
My niece was a pretty girl. She had the same dark hair that her mother and I had, but whereas most of our family had dark eyes, hers were bright green. Tall and slim, Sarah could have any of the boys in the community. For some reason she’d chosen Matthew. Although a teenager’s love life didn’t seem that important compared to the discovery of heroin in her bedroom and everything else going on in Blood Rock, it definitely mattered to my niece and her mother. If my parents knew, they’d be throwing a fit.
I hadn’t been around for years, and it was high time I took my place in the family, even if it only made a small difference. Even for my inner pep talk, I still wished Serenity was here. She was great with teenaged girls. She’d know exactly what to say and just the right questions to ask.
“Then you’ve quit Matthew Troyer for good?” I asked.
Sarah swiveled toward me as I parked the Jeep in front of the Troyer’s stable. “Of course not! He’s a stubborn-headed mule. It’s not my fault at all.”
I let out a breath and tried to look relaxed. “Your mother told me about how you two were caught kissing in the barn.” Her mouth dropped open to protest, but I held up my hand to quiet her. “I don’t care about that part of it at all. Sooner or later, all teenagers do it—and some are unlucky enough to get caught. Your parents have every right to be upset. They trusted you and you let them down. Your best interest is in their hearts.” When Sarah remained sullenly silent with her arms crossed over her chest, I continued. “What I don’t understand is why you and Matthew are having problems. If anything, the temporary shunning should have brought you closer together.”
She let out a dramatic sigh. “You don’t understand anything at all, Uncle.”
I tried to be patient, keeping my voice smooth. “Then please explain it to me.”
“Matthew is a prude. There, I said it,” she blurted out.
Okay. I was about done with the conversation, but I forced myself to stay engaged. “I’m sure he’s thinking about what’s best for you and him. You should be pleased to have a considerate suitor.”
“I don’t think I’ll stay Amish. Joshua and his children are going English, and so did you and Elayne. Why can’t Matthew and I do it too?”
My head spun with the speed that our little talk escalated to life-altering choices. It was probably better that she’d confided in me rather than her mother though. I knew exactly how the girl felt.
“Does Matthew want to become English?”
She slumped in the seat. The sun had set and rain still fell. Lights shined from the windows of the Troyer’s house a short distance away, but the barn was dark.
“No, he doesn’t. He won’t even consider it.” When she faced me, her eyes were wild. “If he really loved me, he’d convert with me.”
I nodded, understanding. I’d had a girlfriend for a short time before I left the Amish. Looking back, I wasn’t in love with her, and she never would have left the Amish even if I was. Most of my friends, including Lester, turned their backs on me when I was fully out. Obedient Amish didn’t have room in their lives for rebels like me—or Sarah.
“You’re only sixteen. I didn’t leave until I was eighteen. In two years, your feelings might change, and perhaps Matthew’s as well. But just as you feel strongly about leaving at this time, you must accept Matthew’s point of view. The Plain ways suit many just fine. If in the years to come, he really doesn’t feel it in his heart to leave, he shouldn’t do so. He’d be miserable on the outside and your relationship would be in shambles because of his resentment. I know it’s hard to do. You must let things play out and realize there are some things you can’t change. Pray about it, Sarah. It might suddenly make sense.”
“If I choose to go, will you help me leave, Uncle?”
I thudded my head back on the seat. My sister would hate me if I assisted Sarah in any way to go English. Rebecca would believe I’d been disloyal after she’d allowed me back into her life. In a way, I would deserve her anger.
But I also knew how difficult it was to transition to the outside without any support. I’d suffered many lonely and aimless years before I’d finally settled into my new life. I wasn’t proud of some of the things I did,
and quite frankly I was lucky to still be breathing. I wouldn’t let my niece go through the same strife I had.
“When the time comes, I’ll be at your side.”
Sarah suddenly beamed and she leaped forward and hugged me. It was a quick, enthusiastic squeeze. “Thank you, Uncle. I’ll take your counsel and wait until I’m older. Taylor and I talked about getting an apartment together someday. I can hardly believe it’s possible!”
Serenity’s niece was as feisty as mine was. Together, the two girls were like a hurricane, and the fact that they’d been cooking up plans made me doubly worried—especially with what Sarah was hiding in her room.
It was as good a time as any to broach the subject. I pulled the plastic bag from the inside pocket of my jacket and held it up in front of Sarah. “What’s this?” I asked innocently.
Sarah’s eyes widened for an instant, then turned back to normal. She looked away. “I don’t know.”
All right. She was going to play ignorant. “That’s interesting. Your mother found it in your room, stuffed in the back of a drawer.”
Sarah’s head jerked my way. “She searched my things?” The venom in her voice was amusing. The girl had no idea how much trouble she could be in.
I lowered my voice to quiet steel. “It’s heroin. Now why was it in your room and have you been using?”
Her attack posture suddenly shifted to defensiveness. “No, I had no idea what to do with the stuff.”
Sarah’s pained facial expression was not an act. I believed her.
“Where did it come from?”
She stared down at her fidgeting finger, ignoring me. We sat like that, in silence. I stared at her for a couple of minutes before I lost patience. “This is important, Sarah. I need to know where you got the heroin.” She refused to even look up. Her unwillingness to talk propelled me right out the door and into the rain.
I found Matthew waiting for me in the telephone shed, just like his father had arranged. Shaking the water from my hair, I stepped into the small building. Only a dim lantern lit the simple looking room. A chair and a small table occupied one corner and in another were a stack of brown boxes. Otherwise, the space was empty. Matthew had been sitting down. He jumped to his feet when I had entered.
“I thought you were never going to get out of the vehicle,” he said.
Matthew Troyer had been one of the teens that ended up in the pig barn at the Swarey’s farm, where Serenity discovered Erin Swarey locked in a hidden cellar. Her husband had been shot and killed by Serenity and Taylor had nearly been eaten by a drove of angry swine. Erin’s son, Monroe, had been shot by US Marshal, Toby Bryant. The boy had barely survived and was now serving time in a juvenile prison. It had not been a good day in the Amish community. At the heart of all that chaos was a disturbed young Englisher who shot up the Blood Rock high school. That boy had been friends with Monroe, and the two were dealing drugs. There was a connection between Monroe and Matthew, and it seemed logical that Matthew had been the one who brought the heroin into Sarah’s life.
I took the steps needed to reach the boy and without much thought, grabbed his shirt and twisted, pulling him against me. “How dare you try to get Sarah into drugs—what the hell is wrong with you?” I growled the words out.
For his shocked face, he still managed to speak calmly and clearly. “It wasn’t me. Are you crazy? I’d never do that.”
I wasn’t sure if I believed the kid, but his subdued response made my tight grip on him feel silly. I loosened my hold, and when Matthew took a deep breath, I let go. He stumbled backwards, catching himself by grasping the back of the chair.
Holding up the same bag I’d just showed Sarah, I demanded, “Where did this come from then? Not so long ago you hung out with deranged teenagers. It’s not a far leap to imagine that you’ve jumped back into the fire again.”
Matthew shook his head. The kid was tall and lanky. His brown hair matched his eyes—and those eyes struck me as sensible.
“Believe me, I regret that I ever called Monroe a friend. I hardly knew the Englisher at all. And I don’t do drugs.” He brought his hands to his face and rubbed vigorously. “You’re not going to say things to my Da, are you? Because they aren’t true.”
A pang of sympathy made me blink. I’d barged into the building and attacked this poor kid. My nerves were frayed. I couldn’t fathom how Serenity dealt with this kind of drama on a regular basis. Having my own niece involved made it worse. I wanted to help, but I was probably only making it worse.
“No, don’t worry. If you’re telling the truth, I won’t say a word to Jonathon.” I let out a long, tired breath and shook the bag. “This stuff is very dangerous. You never know what’s laced into it. She could have died.”
“I don’t know a thing about that baggie, but I bet I know who does.”
I tilted my head, narrowing my gaze on the kid. “Who?”
“Darryl Ogden,” he said.
Matthew was in the back seat and Sarah still sat in the front passenger seat, staring straight ahead and trying her best to ignore both of us.
“Sarah, if you don’t start talking, I’m going to have no choice but to tell your mother about what’s going on,” I said. It didn’t seem that long ago that I was the one rebelling. Life had come full circle. Now I was an adult, preaching and making ultimatums.
“You won’t do that because I’ll tell Momma that you were planning to help me leave the Amish.” With her raised chin and pursed lips, she looked mighty proud of herself.
“What’s that going to do? Make my sister hate me, and go another fifteen years without speaking to me.” I glanced over my shoulder at Matthew. The poor kid looked terrified. “I survived it once—a second time won’t kill me.”
Sarah’s mouth popped open in disbelief. Then it snapped shut. “Matthew Troyer, you shouldn’t have told him about Darryl,” she hissed the words out.
“Are you protecting Darryl because you’re sweet on him?”
Sarah rounded on the boy, gripping the back of the seat. “Are you that dim witted!? You’re the one I fancy, not that dirty hillbilly.”
I rubbed my jaw, wishing I was somewhere else. “Settle down, Sarah,” I ordered. “You’re acting hysterical.”
“Why, because I have a heart and the buffoon back there has broken it?”
“How have I broken it? You all but ignore me lately,” Matthew retorted, leaning forward.
“You’re the one who said you didn’t want to court anymore,” Sarah shouted.
“I did not!” Matthew slapped his hand to his forehead in an overly theatrical gesture before he looked at me. “I simply told Sarah that I wouldn’t go English with her, that’s all.”
“Don’t talk to my uncle like I’m not even here!” Sarah hung over the seat and I feared she might take a swipe at Matthew’s face.
My niece certainly wasn’t the usual reserved and gentle Amish girl. She was turning out to be a wildcat. I pitied my sister and brother-in-law. The Jeep’s windows were fogged and the sound of the rain striking the hard top was getting louder. I tuned out the teenager’s bickering voices. They sounded like an old married couple and it gave me a headache. But what they talked about affected me in another way. My heart rate sped up and I suddenly felt cold. I’d experienced anxiety in the past, but it had been years. These kids and their problems were dredging up all kinds of buried feelings. I knew all too well what it was like to be an Amish teenager wanting out but afraid to lose my family and friends. It was an all too common theme in communities. Most teenagers either welcomed or accepted their fate, but a few like me, Elayne, and now my niece, weren’t satisfied with a Plain life. Temptations from the outside were alluring, but often times, the drastic change to life as an Englisher was difficult. Even when we managed to escape the Amish, trials abounded on the other side. There wasn’t an easy answer for these kids.
Shaki
ng the gloomy haze from my mind, I spoke up loudly. “Quiet, both of you.” My raised voice finally did the trick. I took a deep breath and surged on. “You have a lot of time to work out your relationship and make decisions about your futures. Right now, I want you to focus on what’s important—the heroin. Who is Darryl Ogden, and where do you know him from?”
Sarah slumped back into her seat. She seemed exhausted from her bickering with Matthew. He’s the one who answered me. “We met him at Hostettler’s farm. Sarah has been gardening there this spring, and the building crew I work on has been putting up a new greenhouse, so we’d get to talk when we weren’t both working.” I nodded, getting a clear picture of the situation, and motioning for him to hurry up with the important part. “Darryl does landscaping with an Englisher from town. They stop by the Hostettler’s farm all the time for flowers and plants. That’s how we met him.”
“So how did the casual greenhouse club meetings turn into my niece having heroin in her room?” I asked.
Matthew licked his lips and sat back. My gaze drifted to Sarah, who finally looked at me. “Darryl flirted with me, and I kind of felt bad for him.”
“Why?” She was beginning to sound more and more like her mother. Rebecca had always brought home stray pets and injured wildlife. That kind of hospitality should stop at young men though.
“He talked with a thick country accent and I caught other Englishers laughing at him. One day, out of the blue, he gave that bag to me, like it was a bouquet of flowers or something. He said if I ever wanted more, he knew where to get it. I didn’t know what it was, but when I showed it to Matthew, he guessed it was some kind of drug. We didn’t know what to do with it, so I hid the bag in my drawer. I promise, I had no intention of eating the powder—or whatever you do with it.”
Bloody Ties (Serenity's Plain Secrets Book 8) Page 7