by Debby Giusti
“Has a date been set?”
“Not yet. Everything takes time.”
Julia tried to get her mind around a new identity in a new state. She didn’t understand the Amish connection, but she was okay with anything that meant William and Kayla would be safe.
“My ex-husband...”
She glanced into the adjoining bedroom where William was watching a sporting event on ESPN. Kayla stood nearby and pretended to feed her doll.
Julia lowered her voice. “My ex-husband won’t know of our whereabouts?”
“That’s correct.”
“He won’t be able to find us,” she repeated, needing the reassurance she hoped the marshal would provide.
“No one will find you, ma’am.”
“William will be safe in Kansas?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“As you probably know, my husband was a cop.” She glanced again at the photo. “I’m... I’m hesitant to rely on someone with that background. Do you know why Mr. King was forced to resign?”
Jonathan stiffened. “Abraham had a stellar record with law enforcement, Mrs. Bradford.”
“I didn’t mean to imply...” She held up her hand. “I’m just worried about the safety of my children. They come first.”
“Of course they do, but let me assure you, their safety, as well as yours, is our top priority.”
He retrieved his phone from her outstretched hand and tucked it into his pocket. “Abraham put a criminal in jail who wanted payback after he was paroled. The guy planted an explosive device in Abe’s car. The next morning, his wife tried to drive their daughter to daycare. The car exploded, and his wife and four-year-old child were killed.”
The marshal’s matter-of-fact disclosure of the tragedy hit Julia hard. She glanced down at the table, fighting back tears that welled up in her eyes at the senseless loss of life. “I’m sorry.”
Jonathan nodded. “It was a tough time for him, as you can imagine.”
“Did Mr. King agree to shelter us?”
“He did. Your identities and location will probably change again after William testifies, but for now, you’ll be Julia Stolz.”
“A German name.”
“Yes, ma’am. The area has a large German as well as Amish population. Stolz will fit in.”
“I don’t speak German.”
“That won’t be a problem.” He pulled a manila folder from his briefcase and placed it on the table in front of her.
“Here’s the paperwork you need for your new identities. Social security cards with new names and numbers for you and the children. Birth certificates. A high school graduation diploma for Julia Stolz.”
Jonathan glanced into the bedroom. “William and Kayla need to understand the importance of not revealing their old identities.”
Kayla wouldn’t be a problem, but William was going through a defiant stage where he rebelled against everything.
As if reading her mind, Mast added, “William needs to know that his safety as well as yours and your daughter’s depends on him agreeing to this new life.”
Julia nodded. “I’ll talk to him.”
But would he listen?
Pushing his chair back from the table, Jonathan glanced at his fellow marshals. “We’ll leave at nine tonight.”
“Why so late?” Julia asked.
“At the present time, the Philadores don’t know your whereabouts. We don’t want that to change.” He stood. “Stacy and Karl will drive you to the airport. I’ll meet you there.”
True to his word, Marshal Mast was waiting on the tarmac when Karl pulled the sedan to a stop next to the small charter plane that night.
Julia and her children were ushered onboard. Kayla fell asleep not long after the plane was airborne. William nodded off soon thereafter. Julia stared out the window, peering into the dark sky. Her head throbbed, her eyes burned and she was cold, too cold.
Stacy handed her blankets. “You’ve been very brave.”
Julia covered her children and herself with the blankets and almost laughed. Not brave, but maybe foolish to think she could outsmart the Philadores. Her eyes closed. The jerk of the plane when the wheels touched down forced them open again.
“We’ve landed.” Stacy patted Julia’s arm. “A van will take us to your final destination.”
Julia ushered her children off the plane and into the vehicle parked on the tarmac.
Karl slipped behind the wheel. Jonathan sat in the passenger’s seat, and Stacy climbed into the rear.
Kayla fell asleep again, her head on Julia’s lap. William leaned against her shoulder. Soon, he too drifted off.
Julia watched the lights of the city fade from view as they headed into the country. She quickly lost track of the twists and turns in the road and slipped into a half sleep.
A hand tapped her shoulder. “We’re almost to our destination.”
The car turned off the paved road onto a dirt drive that led to a two-story house with a porch and overhanging tin roof. A small light glowed in a downstairs window.
A second house, similar in style but a bit larger, sat not more than twenty feet away.
Stacy slipped out from the rear. “I’ll carry Kayla.” She lifted the girl into her arms.
“William, wake up.” Julia patted her son’s arm. “We’re going inside.”
He rubbed his eyes and followed her out of the van. Julia took Kayla from the marshal and then grabbed William’s hand, surprised that he didn’t balk. Most days, he objected to any show of affection.
Julia’s stomach churned. She hugged Kayla closer and gripped her son’s hand more tightly as they followed Stacy up the steps to the porch.
The door opened. A man stood backlit on the threshold. “You made good time,” he said in greeting.
“No traffic this late at night.” Marshal Mast extended his hand. The two men shook, then embraced in a back-slapping half-hug of sorts that confirmed the friendship Jonathan had mentioned.
The homeowner shook hands with the two other marshals and invited them inside. “There’s coffee. I placed ham and cheese and bread on the table, in case you’re hungry.”
He glanced at her and nodded. “Ma’am.”
Stepping inside, she narrowed her gaze and studied the sparse accommodations. A table, sideboard, a wood-burning stove. Glancing into another room, she saw two rockers, a bench, a chest of drawers and another table.
She focused again on the man who had welcomed them to his house. He wore a white shirt and trousers held up with suspenders. No collar on the shirt. No buttons. No belt. Work boots scuffed with mud. Turning she saw the pegs on the wall by the door and the black, wide-brimmed felt hat and the short black waistcoat.
She glanced at the marshals who were pouring coffee and helping themselves to the bread and cold cuts on the table. The only person who noticed her discomfort was the man whose photo she had seen earlier today. His deep-set eyes stared at her as if questioning why she was there.
Julia wanted to ask the same question. Jonathan had mentioned that Abraham was living Amish, but the stark reality of what that meant hit her like a sledgehammer. No phone, no electrical power, no technology. Off the grid, as Jonathan had mentioned, was an understatement. Plus, the Amish were pacifists. If they didn’t believe in violence or raising a hand against another, then what if the Philadores discovered where she and her children were hiding?
Her heart sank as she looked at the tall man with the questioning gaze. A former cop who didn’t fit the law enforcement model. No matter what Jonathan claimed, she didn’t see how Abraham King could protect her and her children if he was Amish.
* * *
Abraham had made a mistake. As much as he owed Jonathan, he never should have agreed to bring a woman into his life.
Losing everyone he had ever loved had taken him to the
brink of despair. Jonathan had saved him and brought him back to life, a life of hard work and isolation. A life without a woman to stir up memories of Marianne and their precious little girl, Becca. His breath caught as he thought of the pain that never seemed to end.
Surely Jonathan would understand if Abraham backed out of their agreement. Then he glanced at Julia. Too thin, too afraid, too lost. He knew the signs of a person holding on by a whisper. He had been that person three years ago.
The boy standing next to her was tall and gangly, as if a growth spurt had caught him unawares. His brown eyes, like his mother’s, peered warily at the three marshals gathered around the table. The kid looked tired and confused and ready to bolt if given the chance.
“His dad’s doing time,” Jonathan had shared. “Wouldn’t take much for the kid to follow in his father’s footsteps from what we know. You’re the family’s last hope, Abraham.”
Abraham sighed. How could he turn his back on a woman and two children in such need?
“The bedrooms are upstairs.” Abraham stepped toward her. “I can show you the way. Perhaps the children would like to go to sleep.”
“I’m sure they would.” Clutching her daughter in her arms, she nodded to her son, and the weary threesome followed Abraham up the stairs.
Carrying an oil lamp to light the way, he chastised himself for not placing a lit lamp in each of the bedrooms. Darkness could be frightening, especially to children in new surroundings.
He opened the first door on the right. “I thought your daughter could sleep here.”
The woman hesitated a moment and stared at the furnishings. A single bed, small dresser, and a side table with a water pitcher and basin.
She moved into the room, pulled back the covers and laid her little girl on the bed. Quickly, she removed Kayla’s shoes and covered her with a quilt.
Abraham glanced down at the child’s blond hair and chubby cheeks. A knife stabbed his heart as Becca’s face filled his vision. He turned away and headed to the door.
“William, your mother will sleep across the hall. The room next door is for you.” Thankfully, the boy followed.
“I will leave the lamp in the hallway.”
“You...you don’t have electricity?” the boy asked, his voice filled with wonder.
“We use oil lamps.”
The boy frowned.
Abraham stepped back into the hallway to give the lad privacy as he untied his shoes and got ready for bed.
Julia stepped past him and entered the room. She pulled the covers around her son’s shoulders and brushed the hair from his forehead. “Go to sleep, William. We’ll talk tomorrow. I’ll be across the hall.”
“I don’t wanna stay here.”
She nodded. “I know.”
The boy’s eyes closed and he was soon asleep.
Abraham placed the lamp on a small table in the hallway. Julia joined him there.
“I appreciate you taking us in, Mr. King.”
“Please, my name is Abraham. Some call me Abe.”
“I hate to disturb your life, but Marshal Mast—”
“You have disturbed nothing, Ms. Stolz.”
Her brow wrinkled.
“Perhaps Jonathan did not provide your new name?”
“He did. It’s just that...” She raked her hand through her golden-brown hair. “So much has happened.”
“We can review the information you will need tomorrow.”
“Thank you, Abraham.” She glanced into her room and then hurried downstairs.
The marshals were eating sandwiches and finishing their coffee. They stood when she entered the kitchen.
Stacy pointed to a plastic bag sitting next to the luggage by the door. “I brought a few games for the kids.”
Julia offered a weak smile. “That was very thoughtful.”
“William and Kayla will adjust.” Stacy squeezed her arm. “You will, too.”
“I hope so.”
Jonathan shook hands with Abraham. “Thanks for the chow.”
“You are traveling back to Philadelphia tonight?”
“We’ll be at our desks before dawn.” The marshal turned to Julia. “You can call us if you need anything. Abraham’s neighbor has a phone. Do you have any questions?”
“None that I can think of at the moment.”
The marshals shook her hand and then left the house. Stacy and Karl climbed into the van. Jonathan hung back.
“I’ll leave the coded message on your neighbor’s answering machine if anything new develops,” he told Abraham, who had followed them outside. “Let me know if you notice anything suspicious. The Philadores don’t have much of a foothold in Kansas, but that could change.”
He slapped Abraham’s shoulder. “Nice seeing you, Abe. Looks like you’ve settled into Amish life.”
“Coming back was a good decision for me.” Abraham hesitated. “I will always be grateful.”
“You saved my hide a few times. The least I could do was reciprocate.”
Jonathan glanced back at the house before adding, “I know this is hard, but the kid’s in danger. I don’t have to tell you the woman looks fragile and at the end of her rope. The boy could be the biggest problem. The cops in Philly found him on the street a couple times and took him home. The mom’s trying hard, but we both know sometimes that’s not good enough. Plus, her ex-husband came after her following their divorce. She got a restraining order and changed locations twice. Each time he found her. He eventually went to prison, but he talked about getting even. She’s carrying a lot of worry, especially concerning her son. Maybe you can redirect the kid and focus him on something other than gangs and crime.”
“The Amish way is not for everyone, Jonathan. You know that.”
“Yah.” The marshal slipped into his own Amish roots. “But for a kid who doesn’t know where to turn, the hard work and strong sense of community might give him a new outlook on life. As I mentioned when I first contacted you, my wife was in WitSec and was placed within the Amish community, which proved successful. I have confidence you’ll make this work as well, Abraham.”
“When I agreed to help, I thought there would be a husband.” Abraham tugged on his jaw. “A husband who would follow his wife here at some later time, instead of an ex locked away in prison.”
“I may have skipped over that detail.”
Abraham chuckled. “You knew I would never agree to a woman without a husband.”
“You’ll be in the house next door.”
“Of course I will, but she was hurt by her ex and probably struggles to trust men.”
“Wouldn’t you struggle, if you had been through what she has? Her husband had a passion for gambling. Too much debt and to the wrong people. Then he embezzled funds to cover his habit.”
“Being placed with a female might have been a better fit.”
“Encourage her to call Stacy if she needs to talk to another woman. In the meantime, you’re our man on this case, Abe. The family needs you.”
Again the two men shook hands. As Jonathan turned toward the car, his cell rang. He pulled it out, pushed Talk and raised the phone to his ear. “Mast.” He nodded. “You’re sure? Thanks. I’ll pass that on.”
Pocketing his phone, Jonathan turned worried eyes to Abraham. “We picked up an informant who was eager to talk. Fuentes got wind of us moving William out of Philadelphia.”
“How?”
Jonathan shrugged. “Beats me, but it compounds the situation. Not that they suspect Kansas. Still, stay alert. His people could be anywhere and anyone.”
“Are you sure the informant is legit?”
“As sure as we can be. I’ll call you if we get more information.”
Jonathan hurried to the van and climbed into the front seat. The three marshals nodded their farewells before the vehicle
drove away, leaving Abraham to think of the family he had not been able to protect.
His own family.
He turned and, with a heavy heart, entered the kitchen. The woman stood by the table.
“I live in the house next door,” he said. “I will leave you to your rest now. Tomorrow we will talk about this new arrangement.”
He touched the dead bolt on the kitchen door. “The front door is locked. Do the same with the dead bolt once I leave. Do not worry. The only person prowling the grounds tonight will be me. I will not let harm come to you or your children.”
Without waiting for her to comment, Abraham grabbed his hat and coat from the wall pegs and stepped outside.
He paused and listened for the door to lock.
Silence.
He knocked. “Lock the door, Mrs. Stolz, for your own peace of mind.”
The lock clicked into place. With a heavy sigh, he headed home.
He was glad he had bought the main house and the dawdy, or grandparents’ house, next door. Abraham had not needed two houses, but he had wanted the land. One hundred twenty acres to farm and to exhaust him so he would forget about Marianne and Becca. Except he could never forget his wife and child.
Now this woman had stepped into his quiet world with her two children and all he could think about was what he had lost.
He had made a mistake agreeing to help Jonathan. In a few days Abraham would tell him the setup was not working and insist he find somewhere else to place Julia and her children.
Abraham kicked a clod of dirt with his boot and sighed, knowing that if the Philador gang was after them, there would be no place safe for Julia and her children to hide.
TWO
Julia awoke to someone pounding on the door.
She blinked her eyes open to see a blue curtain covering the bedroom window and tried to remember where she was.
Not the apartment in Philly.
Kansas.
Her heart sank. For a moment, she had hoped everything had been a dream.
Rising from the bed, she slipped into her jeans and pulled on the sweater she had worn last night. Hunger nagged at her stomach and made her hurry that much faster down the stairs. She wanted the children to sleep in, at least until she’d had a cup of coffee.