“The next time something like this happens, call me!”
Blake’s cell phone rang. “I’ll be back in a minute.” He disappeared through the door.
Matt kept his gaze on Hannah. “There’s not much I can do without a description of the car, but you need to be careful.”
She nodded, the hectic red in her cheeks draining away. “I—I came for another reason too.” She swallowed hard.
There was something so vulnerable about her that Matt wished he didn’t have to question her. His job was to push and prod until he got at the truth, and he knew there was a lot she held back. Getting at it might hurt her. “So what’s up?”
She blinked, exhaled, then slowly opened her bag. Rummaging inside, she withdrew a photo and held it out. “I wonder if you’ve seen this little girl.”
A child? Matt took the slick paper. His sweet daughter’s face looked back at him, and he almost smiled. “Where did you get this?” He tried to think of what Caitlin might have done. Thrown rocks? Darted in front of her? He lifted his coffee cup to his lips.
She bit her lip. “Reece sent it. He says it’s our daughter.”
Matt choked on the sip of hot liquid. “Wait, let me get this straight. You’ve never seen this girl before, yet you say it’s your daughter? How is that possible?” He looked down at Caitlin again. It was Caitlin, wasn’t it?
She didn’t look at him but rushed on. “I was pregnant, and Reece wasn’t happy about it. About two weeks before the baby was due, he shoved me down the stairs. I just remember pain and coming in and out of consciousness. When I finally woke up, he told me the baby girl had died.”
Matt found it hard to get his mind around what she was saying. A shiver of fear tickled his spine. “And now he’s saying the baby didn’t die? That this child is that baby?”
She nodded. “I left him as soon as I found out. I thought that was the end of it until I got this picture last week. I want to find my daughter,” she said with a stubborn tilt to her chin.
No way. Maybe Reece had seen a picture of Caitlin and recognized the resemblance, then chosen to use it. It was impossible her daughter was his baby girl. “When was this?” he asked before he could stop himself.
“Five years ago. April fourteenth.”
The day before Analise had found a tiny bundle on their front porch. Horror stopped his tongue. He wouldn’t believe it. He swallowed hard and managed to feign indifference. “And you believe him? Maybe he’s just yanking your chain.”
She nodded. “He might be trying to hurt me. He says if I come back to him, I can have her back. He says he’s raising her Amish up in Shipshewana, but this little girl is dressed Englisch. So it’s hard to believe what he’s telling me.”
Matt forced himself to breathe, to act naturally. He couldn’t let on how upset he was. At least he knew it was all a lie. “I think he’s bluffing.” He knew he should tell her, but he had to know more first. His child’s future hung in the balance.
Tears hung on her lashes. “He called me yesterday, and I heard her voice. She sounded darling.”
Reece had taped Caitlin’s voice? Maybe Gina wasn’t overreacting and someone had been following her. Maybe Reece had seen Caitlin and realized how much she looked like Hannah. He might have seen this as a way of getting to her.
Matt had to gain some time, figure out what to do. No one was taking his daughter. “You think he’s in town?”
“I’m sure of it. He sent me this picture to flush me out so he could find me.”
“I’ll try to find him, talk to him.”
She shook her head. “He’s crafty. He won’t tell you anything. But can we look for the child?”
“What makes you think she’s in Indiana?” He was total slime to try to confuse her.
“See here?” She handed the picture back to him. “There’s a covered bridge in the background.”
He peered at the picture. She was right. He remembered the picnic by the bridge, too, just a month ago on an unusually warm April day. “That doesn’t say for sure it’s here. There are covered bridges in other places.”
“Yes, but look at the name on the bridge. It’s the one by my—my cousin’s house, the Narrows Bridge. So we need to start here.”
By some miracle, he kept his voice steady. “There’s no crime yet. I’m not sure what you expect me to do.”
“Isn’t it a crime to steal a baby from her mother?” Her voice rose. “How about murdering a child?”
“You don’t know this little girl is even yours. And did you ever press charges against Reece?” He didn’t even have to wait for her to shake her head. Of course she didn’t. She’d simply walked away from him like so many battered wives without making him pay for what he’d done. “So we have no proof of anything.”
“Then what do I do?”
“I’ll find Reece and talk to him.” He waved the picture in the air. “But I think you’re chasing a dream. This little girl probably just has red hair.” He had to believe it for his own sanity, to keep panic from sweeping him away.
“I understand that. But I have to do something. I have to find her, discover the truth for myself.”
He nodded. “I’ll keep you posted. Give me your cell phone number.” As she dug for a pen and paper, he glanced at the photo again. His blood ran cold at the thought that Reece had been watching his baby. The man had to be somewhere nearby, and Matt would find him, force him to tell the truth. Force him to go away and leave them all alone.
ELEVEN
“Take a look at the Amish Bars Quilt. Less is more in the quilt and in the Amish way of life. They’re able to escape the plague of materialism sweeping the country.”
—HANNAH SCHWARTZ,
IN The Amish Faith Through Their Quilts
Angie had the radio turned up and was singing along when Hannah got back to the car. Perspiration trickled along the back of her neck, and her pulse still raced from the effort to convince Matt to help her. If she’d had anywhere else to turn, she wouldn’t have gone to him.
The smile on Angie’s face faltered when she saw Hannah. “It didn’t go well?”
“That man could make a bishop swear.” Hannah slammed the door behind her and fastened her seat belt as Angie laughed. “He’s going to look around, but he’s still looking at our community for the murderer. Just like he did when my family died. One of us was his first assumption. I thought he might have learned something, grown up some.”
Angie started the car and pulled into the line of traffic. “Don’t you watch CSI? It’s generally someone close to the victim. He’s just following standard procedure.”
“But does he have to be so obnoxious about it? I want to talk to my aunt, but not while she’s so upset. She seems to know something about this.”
“Well, you can do that later. Publishers Weekly called, and you have a phone interview with them in an hour and a half. They want a quick quote from you for an article they’re running on why Amish books are so popular.”
Hannah wanted to shake her head and refuse, but Angie was just doing her job. “Angie, I don’t want to do any promotion while I’m here. Please don’t schedule anything more.”
Angie didn’t seem to hear. “We’ve got to maximize the opportunity while we can. I plan to call some women’s magazines next and set up photo shoots here in the area where they can see you interacting with the Amish.”
“No, absolutely not. No photos here. You know the Amish don’t like their pictures taken. They don’t tolerate graven images or vanity.” The very thought made Hannah want to pace. If her family were fully aware of her fame, their disapproval would soar. When had she so fully disassociated herself from the concept of Hochmut? Her people had a horror of elevating themselves into the limelight, but she’d welcomed it when it had come. Perhaps she had even been a bit prideful of her success. No wonder the bishop warned against how easily worldly ways could creep in.
They reached the turnoff to Nora’s farm, and from the corner of her eye, Hannah
saw a truck go by. The man’s head swiveled, and their eyes locked. It was Reece. She saw recognition come into his face, and he smiled.
“Step on it, Angie, quick!” Her pulse thundered in her ears. Five years wasn’t long enough to get rid of the metallic taste of terror that came at the first glimpse of his face.
“Who is it?” Angie stomped on the gas. She did a U-turn in the middle of the road and sped away in the opposite direction.
Hannah peeked over the top of the seat behind them. “He’s turning around to follow us!”
Angie accelerated. “Is it Reece?”
“Yes.” Hannah barely breathed. “Go back to town, and we’ll go to Matt.” She glanced behind them. Reece had nearly caught up to them. “Get out of here!” The tan truck stayed on their trail. “There’s a little lane around the next curve. It goes across a covered bridge. There’s a thick hedge on the other side. Maybe we can hide there.”
Angie held to the wheel with both hands. “Call Matt!” The car went airborne over a hump in the road, but Angie maintained control.
Hannah grabbed for her purse and dug out her cell phone. “The battery’s dead!”
“Get mine.”
Hannah looked around for her friend’s bag. “Where’s your purse?”
Angie groaned. “It’s in the trunk.”
They crested the hill, and Hannah kept her gaze glued on the truck behind them. She lost sight of it as they went down the hill. “Right there,” Hannah said, pointing out the narrow lane.
Angie spun the steering wheel, and the car plunged down the overgrown road. They entered the covered bridge, the dark coolness a haven. The tires rumbled over the wooden planks. Then they were out the other side. Still no sign of the truck. Hannah directed Angie to the thick copse of trees and shrubs where she used to play with her siblings.
Angie ran the windows down and turned the key to off. The sound of the engine died, and Hannah heard the chatter of birds overhead and, in the distance, the whine of a vehicle tearing down the hill. She caught her breath and waited. Would he notice the turnoff? He’d grown up around here too, and he might remember this place.
She opened the car door and peered through the foliage hiding them. A flash of metal showed through the other side of the covered bridge. A tire thunked on wood. “He’s coming!” Panic closed her throat, and she looked wildly around for some place to hide.
“Get back in the car! I’ll get us out of here.” Angie started the car.
Hannah jumped back inside and closed the door with as little sound as possible. She didn’t put her seat belt on in case she would have to jump and run to escape Reece. The thought of him laying hands on her again made her head swim. She pushed away the weakness. Never again would she let a man hurt her like he had.
Holding her breath, she watched the truck rumble past up the narrow dirt road. Maybe he thought they’d cut through to the other road that way. “Hang on,” she said. “Maybe he won’t see us.” But even as she spoke, she saw his brake lights flash. “He’s spotted us!”
Angie accelerated away from their hiding spot and back onto the covered bridge. “You sure this bridge is built to take us running back and forth?” she muttered.
Plunging into the river would be better than facing Reece again. Hannah turned in her seat to peer behind them. “Yes.” Would she ever really escape him?
The car emerged from the bridge into the sunlight. “Back to town,” she said. “Let’s try to make it to the jail.”
Angie’s speedometer hit seventy by the time they crested the hill. The truck followed them, gaining every second.
“Faster!” Hannah cried. Her pulse battered the flesh in her throat. It seemed inevitable that she would have to face Reece. Maybe now was the time.
“I’ve got the accelerator clear to the floor.”
The city limit was just ahead. “We’re almost there.”
The truck gained on them until their bumpers were almost touching. Angie made a sharp turn down the street toward Matt’s office, even running a red light. The truck didn’t manage the turn, though the tires squealed as it tried. Angie turned at the next street and wove around until they were in front of the jail.
Just as she slammed on the brakes and parked, Reece’s truck came from a side street. He pulled in behind them and ran his window down. “Are you okay, hon? We need to talk,” he called. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
Hannah’s hands shook, and she trembled all over. She threw open the door and tottered out. Breathing deeply, she tried to gather enough strength to run into the building. She couldn’t bear to look at his face.
The car door slammed behind her, then Angie was at her side, taking her elbow. “Let’s get inside.” She turned and faced Reece. “I’ve gotten a restraining order on you—get out of here before you’re arrested.”
Hannah dared a peek at him. He had a beard coming in. It was about an inch long. Was it to give weight to his lie about converting to the Amish faith? She could see the slash of dark suspenders against the white shirt he wore.
He waved and accelerated out of the parking lot. “You’ll have to talk to me sooner or later, Hannah.” The words rang through the open window before his tires squealed on the pavement and the truck zoomed away.
Hannah’s shaking began to wane, and anger took its place. He couldn’t do this to her, not anymore. Men like Reece always got away with their crimes. And she could have kicked herself now that it was over. She’d let her fear drive her. If only she’d mastered it and confronted him, maybe she would know more about the little girl. She needed to find some backbone.
MATT STUDIED THE women. Both were clearly shaken. Hannah was pale, and she stood twisting her hands together. Tears pooled in her eyes. Even her friend Angie paced the sidewalk, her black hair bouncing and her brows drawn together as though she wanted to bite someone.
She stopped and pointed a red-tipped finger at him. “So, Officer, what are you going to do to protect Hannah from that madman?”
He thought about correcting her. Detective. He’d fought hard for that title. “I’ll put out a warrant for his arrest, bring him in, and talk to him.”
“Talk to him? What good will that do? Talk rolls off the back of a man like him. You’re just protecting him because he’s one of you!”
Matt spread his hands out, palms up. “He’s not one of us. We’ll bring him in and tell him he can’t break the restraining order.” His gut said Hannah needed protection. He had one dead body, and he didn’t want another murder on his desk. “I’ll arrange for a car to drive by.” Besides, he wanted Reece out of commission and as far away from Caitlin as possible.
Hannah tipped up her chin. “Surveillance isn’t going to stop Reece.” Ajax pressed against her leg and whined. She rubbed his ears, and her shoulders relaxed.
“It might discourage him,” Blake put in. He put his pen away.
She shook her head. “He has total contempt for law enforcement. He thinks he’s above it all because he was a deputy himself once.”
Maybe he still was. “What’s he doing now?”
“Last I heard he was a guard for a big corporation in Detroit. He lost his job on the police force there after he beat up a drunk. If it’s true he joined the Amish church in a district in Shipshewana—which I doubt—he would have to be doing something else.”
“Do you believe him?” he asked her.
She didn’t answer right away. When he thought she was going to refuse to talk about it, she finally gave a tiny shrug. “I don’t want to believe him, but he might have.”
“Why would he do that?” The man Matt knew hated being told what to do. Matt couldn’t see Reece taking orders from a bishop.
“He thinks it would add to the pressure to make me go back to him.”
Matt didn’t ask her if the pressure would work. The torment on her face made it clear that such a circumstance would make her decision harder. “So where are you staying? You still at your aunt’s?”
“Yes, b
ut I don’t want to bring more trouble on her head. She has enough with her son’s murder and the Molotov cocktail last night.” Hannah glanced down the street. “I could stay at the bed-and-breakfast out at the maple farm.”
“Too remote. And it’s probably not good to stay with your aunt either. She’s in the middle of nowhere too.” He thought for a minute. His rental cottage was one block over with plenty of nosy neighbors. It was empty right now. Digging in his pocket, he pulled out his keys. “I own a rental close to the station. There are two bedrooms and neighbors who would shoot an intruder on sight. You can stay there.”
She shifted from one foot to the other and looked down at the keys in his hand. “Thank you. I’ll pay you for it.”
“It will only be a few days.” He pressed the key into her hand. “It’s over on Water Street. 303. White with blue shutters. Wait, I’d better go with you so the neighbors don’t call me to tell me someone has broken into the place.” He walked to his SUV, then got Ajax loaded in the back.
“Hope you know what you’re doing, partner,” Blake said.
“You got any other ideas?”
“She’s not your responsibility. We do the best we can.”
Matt shot him a look of disgust. “And maybe get another dead body. I don’t understand what’s happening yet, but I intend to.”
Blake shrugged. “We can’t play bodyguard for everyone.”
“You’re all heart, Blake.” But what did he expect from a guy who would cheat on his wife? He pushed away the thought of his lies to Hannah. That was different. “Follow me,” he told the women. He got in his vehicle, then waited until they climbed back into their car before leading them the short distance to his house.
Parking in front, he saw that the grass needed to be cut and the shutters could use a new coat of paint. Funny how he hadn’t noticed until he was bringing guests. He let Ajax out, and the dog raced to sniff at the other car’s wheels.
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