Nathan stumbled back but was able to keep hold of his end of the dresser. He carefully set his end down and examined the piece. “Look what you have done. We just got it from a craftsman and you ruined it.”
“Maybe your father will sell it for a fair price, then?”
Nathan launched himself at his former best friend, and the two Amish young men crashed to the concrete floor. Caleb, clearly the stronger of the two, pinned Nathan to the ground in seconds. He wiped blood from his lip.
Nathan kicked at him, but Caleb easily stayed out of the way of the wayward boots.
“What are you going to do? Strangle me like you did Katie?” Nathan cried. “You could have hit her dozens of times, and she would have never said a word. It won’t be that way for me. You’re fired. You will never work in this county again. I will ruin you. Ruin you.”
Caleb laughed. “You can’t fire me. You can’t do anything to me.”
“Yes, I can. Have you read the sign on the warehouse? It says Garner.” He spat the words out. “King is the name of a grunt.”
Caleb straddled Nathan’s back and pulled his friend’s hand backward, twisting his index finger. The crack and pop of Nathan’s finger breaking went off like a gunshot in the enormous room, echoing off the bare walls and rafters.
I gasped and covered my mouth, my stomach roiling. In my mind’s eye, I saw him breaking—not Nathan’s finger—but Katie’s. I had little doubt that Caleb was the one behind the old wounds on Katie’s body.
My gasp caught Caleb’s attention and he jumped off Nathan—but it was too late. I had seen everything and he knew it. I stumbled backward and the corner of a desk stabbed my hip.
“What are you doing?” Caleb bellowed.
Writhing in pain, Nathan rolled back and forth on the concrete floor, holding his broken finger.
I turned and ran.
“Stop!” Caleb cried.
I was lost. The maze of furniture had me confused. It was all the same color, the pieces blending together. I turned a corner and smacked into Levi Garner’s chest.
He pushed me back, holding me at arm’s length.
I gulped air. “Caleb broke Nathan’s finger like he did Katie’s.”
“Where are you?” Caleb cried.
Levi’s eyes narrowed, and he pushed me aside. Caleb appeared in the aisle and saw Levi’s fury. It was his turn to run. He spun on his heels, dashing back the way he came when a silver brace spilled quietly into the aisle. Caleb never saw it and landed face down on the floor.
Levi reached Caleb in four strides, lifting the young Amish man off the ground by his shirt as if he weighed no more than Naomi’s favorite doll. “What did you do to my son?”
Caleb cowered.
Grandfather Zook appeared in the aisle and waved one of his arm braces at me. “That worked like a charm.”
I dialed 911, followed by Chief Rose’s direct number.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Emergency lights from the ambulances and police cars reflected off the snow and through the windows into the warehouse. Grandfather Zook and I sat at the dining room table where he and Levi had negotiated prices for Grandfather’s woodworking projects.
A few feet away, an EMT wrapped Nathan’s broken finger. “That should hold for the ride to the hospital.”
“Can you fix it?” Nathan asked through a wince of pain. “Will it be the same as before?”
The EMT grimaced. “That’s hard to say. It’s a pretty bad break. The doctor will look at it and give you a better idea. Hopefully, you won’t have to see a hand specialist.”
Nathan held his injured hand to his chest. Levi glared at Caleb. His son’s former friend stood in handcuffs, and Officer Nottingham had a firm grip on his upper arm. Caleb strained against the officer’s hold. “I didn’t kill Katie. I didn’t. Just because I fought with Nathan, you think I killed someone.” He spat those last words in Chief Rose’s face.
The police chief removed a napkin from her pocket and wiped her cheek, but she held her ground. She nodded to Officer Nottingham. “I’m tired of looking at him. Take him to the sheriff’s station. I don’t even want him in my department.”
Officer Nottingham pulled on Caleb’s arm. “Let’s go.”
“Can we take Garner to the hospital?” the EMT asked the police chief.
She nodded. “I’ll be there within the hour.”
Officer Riley held the door as the EMT wheeled Nathan out in a wheelchair. Levi moved to follow him, but Chief Rose held up her hand. “I need to speak with you first.”
“My son.”
“I’ll be brief,” she said and led him to another part of the warehouse out of my earshot. I couldn’t help but think that was on purpose.
“Are you all right?” I asked Grandfather Zook for the fifth time.
He squeezed my hand. “Chloe, I’m fine. I have told you this. I’m glad that Levi insisted that he go look for you when you didn’t come back to the front of the store. He didn’t want me to go with him, but I hobbled along anyway.” He knocked on his braces leaning against the table. “Sometimes these come in handy.”
I groaned. “Mr. Troyer is going to be angry when he finds out what happened.”
The skin around Grandfather Zook’s eyes crinkled at the corners. “Simon will recover. He always does.”
“You think Caleb killed Katie?” I asked.
His bushy eyebrows shot up. “Don’t you?”
“I still want to talk to Anna. Ruth and I plan to talk to her later this afternoon. I think she knows more about her sister’s life than anyone.” I frowned. “I just don’t know if Caleb is the one who killed Katie.”
“Why not?” The voice came from behind, startling me.
I jumped and found Levi Garner glaring at me, his dimple nowhere to be found. “Did you see what he did to my son? An Amish man with an injured hand is nothing! What work can he do if the doctor cannot mend it?”
“I—I don’t know.”
“Okay, okay, calm down, Garner.” Chief Rose stepped between us. “Officer Riley here will take you to the hospital to see Nathan. Considering how he drives, you two might beat the ambulance there.”
Riley adjusted his utility belt under his protruding belly. “I used to drag race back in the day.”
Chief Rose shook her head.
Levi and Officer Riley started to leave.
“Wait,” I said. “Levi, I noticed the prices for Grandfather Zook’s woodworking pieces were higher than you quoted them to be.”
Levi’s mouth fell open. “You want to talk about that now? My son is in the hospital.”
I dropped my head. “I just noticed that—”
Grandfather Zook waved my concern away. “I’ve sold my goods to Levi for years. There is nothing to worry about.”
Levi shot me another glare before he followed Officer Riley out of the building.
Chief Rose pointed at me with her finger as if firing a gun. “I want to talk to you too, Humphrey, but first I need to take some more pictures of where the fight occurred. You and Mr. Zook hang tight here until I return.” She opened a black crime scene kit on the tabletop and removed an SLR digital camera.
When the chief disappeared among the furniture aisle, I stood.
“Where are you going?” Grandfather Zook asked.
“I need to step outside for a second. I need some air.”
Grandfather nodded. “Don’t be gone long. I don’t want to be in trouble with the lady copper.”
I arched an eyebrow. “Copper?”
“It’s another new Englischer word I learned. What do you think?”
“I wouldn’t call Chief Rose that to her face.”
As I stepped through the warehouse’s front door, he laughed.
Just minutes ago, the warehouse’s parking lot had been full of emergency v
ehicles, now all that remained was Chief Rose’s cruiser and my Bug. I took a deep breath of air. Was I wrong? Was Caleb the killer like everyone believed? Why did I doubt it? If he could snap his girlfriend and best friend’s fingers without thought, why couldn’t he commit murder in the same cold manner? I placed a hand on the frigid side of the Bug to steady myself and shivered. This was Chief Rose’s problem. If it turned out that I was right and Caleb did not commit the murder, I would help her find the killer—if she asked me to help. But no more volunteering. After seeing Nathan’s mangled finger, I was out of that business.
A large hand wrapped around my wrist and spun me around. My back slammed against the car door, but the grip on my wrist tightened as I cried out in pain.
Brock Buckley leaned in. “I’ve been looking for you, Red. Lucky you have a unique girly car.”
That’s it. I would trade the Bug in and get something generic, like a Corolla.
He jerked my arm up. “Does that hurt?”
“Let me go,” I shouted. Frantically I looked around for Curt. Until recently, the two were always together. “How stupid are you? Didn’t you see Chief Rose’s squad car? It’s right over there. She’s inside the warehouse.”
He dropped my wrist and placed a tree-trunk thick arm on either side of my shoulders, pinning my arms to my sides and me to the car. “She can’t hear you out here. That place is like an airplane hangar.”
“Where’s Curt?” I asked.
He snarled. “That’s what I wanted to ask you.”
“Ask me? Why? Why would I know where he is?” If I screamed would Chief Rose hear me?
“You’re all he talks about lately. You and that church.”
“Me?” My eyes darted around the parking lot. There was no one else there.
“Yes, you turned my best friend into a wimp. He’d rather spend time at church than with me.”
“I don’t see anything wrong with that.”
He squeezed his arms more tightly. I felt like I was about to fold in half the long way.
“Help!” I cried.
Brock pressed his forearm up against my throat. I choked. “Don’t think I won’t finish you. I’ve had my eye on you since the moment you showed up in this town. I left you alone because of Curt, but his wish to keep you safe doesn’t matter much to me anymore.”
Spots flashed in front of my eyes. Curt protected me from Brock? How is that possible? I had always thought Curt was the instigator, and Brock was the one who followed his lead. Had it been the reverse all of this time?
He pressed down harder. “You cost me a best friend.”
I gagged. My eyes felt like they might pop out of my head, and I shut them tight to hold them in place. Was this what Katie felt before she died? Had Brock—not Caleb—been behind her death? My vision blurred and in my mind, I could see Brock looming over Katie’s body through the fog. I heard someone talking, but I couldn’t understand the words. “Don’t think I won’t.” I caught that phrase. Don’t think I won’t what? My thoughts swam in a gray mist. I couldn’t take hold of any of them.
Then, the pressure was gone. I slid to the snow-covered gravel parking lot, holding my throat and gasping for air.
Brock stood three feet away from me with his hands in the air. Chief Rose had her handgun trained at his chest. “Lay on the ground with your arms stretched out in front of you!”
Brock glowered at her. “The ground is freezing.”
“Ask me if I care,” the police chief barked back. “Do it. Now.”
Brock did as he was told.
“Get up, Humphrey,” Chief Rose said to me. I struggled to my wobbly legs. The police chief handed me her gun. “If he tries anything while I’m cuffing him, shoot him.”
The gun shook in my hand. My finger wasn’t even on the trigger. Was she serious? Thankfully, I didn’t have to answer that question because Brock let Chief Rose cuff him with little fuss. She yanked him to his feet. For a small woman, she was awfully strong.
“Thanks for cooperating, Buckley,” the police chief said sarcastically. She walked him over to her cruiser and shoved him into the backseat behind the wire mesh. She slammed the door on him. “You okay, Humphrey? Do you need to be checked out?”
I rubbed my throat, wondering if I would have a bruise. “I’ll be fine,” I croaked. I didn’t want to go back to the hospital. I had been there too many times before. If I weren’t careful I would need to make a change of address with the post office to have my mail sent there. “Thank you for rescuing me.”
“Okay then. If your sore throat doesn’t go away by tomorrow morning, I want you to go to the hospital. I need to take charming Mr. Buckley here to jail. I’m sure the warden will be happy to see him again. They are old pals.”
I nodded, because talking would take too much effort. All I wanted to do was go home and drink a big mug of lemon and honey tea.
The police chief opened her car door. “I’ll have Officer Nottingham swing by your place tomorrow to record your statement for both incidents. Is there anyone else out to get you that I should know about, Humphrey? Being attacked twice in the span of three hours is a little much—even for you.”
I wish I knew.
Chapter Thirty-Six
The three youngest Troyer children wandered aimlessly around the front yard. When my car shuddered to a stop on the Troyers’ frozen drive, Thomas and Naomi came running. Thomas opened his grandfather’s car door as I slipped out of the driver seat.
Naomi hugged my legs, and I squeezed her back.
Grandfather Zook adjusted his braces above his elbows while Thomas steadied him. “What are you all doing outside in the cold?”
“Becky is here,” Thomas said in an unusually hushed voice. “Ellie Young dropped her off a little while ago.”
Grandfather Zook cocked his head. “I’ll bet Ellie was disappointed that I wasn’t here.”
Naomi giggled.
Her grandfather’s grin turned to a frown. “That was nice of Ellie to give Becky a ride to the farm, but it still doesn’t answer my question as to why you are moping outside.”
Ruth joined us and kicked off snow that gathered on the toe of her boot. “Daed said we had to go outside so he and Maam could talk to her.”
My stomach clenched. I knew why.
“Hair,” Naomi whispered.
Grandfather’s bushy eyebrows fused together. “Hair?”
“Becky cut her hair,” Thomas whispered. “Like an Englischer.”
Grandfather Zook sighed. “I see.” He hobbled toward the house.
The children and I followed. Even before we reached the screened-in front porch, we heard the angry timbre of raised voices. Grandfather Zook didn’t hesitate and went inside. Through the opening, I saw Becky and her parents in the living room. Mrs. Troyer sat on the couch. Her hands covered her face and her body shook as silent sobs rolled through her.
Mr. Troyer stood across from his eldest daughter, his face bright red as if he had scrubbed it hard with a bristle brush. Becky stood defiantly across from him with her arms folded across her chest. “I told you that I wasn’t coming back. You knew that. I don’t know why cutting my hair makes any difference.”
Mr. Troyer responded in Pennsylvania Dutch. Even though I couldn’t understand the words, I knew by the way Becky sucked in air that his comments bit. “So you care what Deacon Sutter says now?” Becky asked.
Mr. Troyer opened his mouth again, but Grandfather Zook stamped one of his braces on one of the wide floor boards. “What is going on?”
I hovered in the doorway, but the three younger Troyer children dashed back into the yard. Should I run too?
Mr. Troyer spun around and faced his father-in-law. He said something in their language.
“Ya, I see that she has cut her hair.”
Mr. Troyer responded again in their language.
/> Grandfather Zook sniffed. “Speak Englisch. Chloe is here.”
Duly outed, I stepped forward.
Mrs. Troyer dropped her hands from her face and stared at me through her tears. Her expression was pointed, accusatory. I glanced at Mr. Troyer and saw the same look on his face. Behind me, cold wind sliced into my back through the open door. Did I leave it open as a means of escape?
Mr. Troyer’s eyes narrowed. “You did this to her.”
“I—I didn’t.”
“Your Englisch friend did.”
I licked my lips. “Becky asked her to.”
Becky took a step closer to her father. “Daed, Chloe had nothing to do with this. Cutting my hair was my decision.”
I stepped forward. “Becky didn’t take the decision lightly. I know she’s thought about it for a long time.”
Mr. Troyer turned to me as if seeing me for the first time and he did not like what he found. “You knew she would do this?”
“I . . .”
Mrs. Troyer covered her face again as if she couldn’t look at me.
Mr. Troyer pointed at the open door. “Chloe, please leave. This is a conversation for the family.”
His words cut, but they were true. I shouldn’t be there. I wasn’t family, and if Mr. Troyer’s thunderous expression was any indication, they didn’t want me to be.
I stumbled back. “Oh, right, I’m so sorry.”
“Close the door when you leave,” Becky’s father added.
“Chloe, wait,” Grandfather Zook said.
I shook my head. “I should go.” I backed out onto the front porch and shut the door behind me. I hurried down the steps, waving at the children, but avoiding eye contact because more than anything I didn’t want them to see me cry. Naomi and Thomas were making snow angels. “Bye,” I choked out. “Gotta run.”
My hands shook as I opened my car door.
“Chloe,” Ruth called from behind me.
I closed my eyes for a moment because I didn’t want her to see how much her father’s words affected me. I inhaled slowly and turned.
Appleseed Creek Trilogy, Books 1-3 Page 82