Lancaster County Reckoning

by Kit Wilkinson

  “Call McClendon,” Elijah said.

  It took a few minutes but Thomas finally got the chief on the phone.

  “Miss Simmons left here alone,” Thomas said after explaining the rest of what they’d learned and the contents of the note they’d found.

  “I’ll call her,” the chief said. “And I’ll have my assistant forward you her number, as well. We can try to locate her by using her phone, too, if it’s on and powered up.”

  Thomas disconnected.

  “Maybe she’s on her way back to the hospital to see Jesse?” Elijah suggested.

  Thomas shook his head. “Why would she leave without saying anything?”

  Thomas stared at his phone screen waiting for Darcy’s number to come through. When it did, he dialed the number immediately. What was that woman thinking, driving off without saying a word?

  Darcy’s line rang and rang but she didn’t answer. Thomas left a message asking her to return the call.

  “Maybe she needed a minute and went for a quick drive?” Elijah offered.

  “I know there could be a million legitimate reasons for her to drive off,” Thomas admitted. “Maybe she saw the phone and realized she needed to call someone and drove away for some privacy.”

  He didn’t believe a word of it. No matter what her reasoning, he couldn’t imagine why she hadn’t come back by now or said something to them first.

  Thomas felt his heart jump when his phone rang in his fingers. “Darcy?” He lifted the phone.

  “No. It’s the chief. We can’t get her to answer,” McClendon explained. “But we were able to track the phone.”

  “Where is it?”

  “Fourteen-oh-one Waking Lane.”

  “That’s Jesse’s cottage. I’m going to go take a look.”

  “She may not even be there,” Elijah said to him. “Just because the phone is there doesn’t mean the person is.”

  “Well, it’s worth taking a look.” Thomas shoved the phone into Elijah’s hands. “You keep calling.”

  “Right,” his friend said. “Take my buggy. Perry is still hitched up.”

  Thomas untied Elijah’s horse from the hitching post and climbed inside the buggy. The trip through the woods seemed interminably long.

  * * *

  A large man grabbed Darcy’s arm from behind. With tremendous strength, he pulled her back into the center of the cottage.

  Darcy’s blood raced through her veins. She screamed as she tripped backward. She braced herself and tried to whip her arm free, but his grip was too tight. Then a second man closed in on her from the other side. What could she do? They had her surrounded.

  “What do you want?” The strength of her voice surprised her. She felt anything but strong at the moment. “This isn’t your home. You’re trespassing.”

  “Where is it? Where did he leave it? With you, no doubt.” The voice was low and angry but with a distinct accent that she couldn’t quite place. Was this the man from the phone call? Were these men responsible for the note they’d found in Jesse’s Bible?

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, I assure you. Jesse didn’t give me anything.” Darcy thought of the phone inside her jacket. If she could just get the call to 911...but she’d have to do it carefully to keep her attackers from noticing. She reached her free hand slowly into her jacket pocket as her eyes darted back and forth between the two men—she needed to find a way to escape them.

  “She’s got a gun!” one of them yelled.

  Darcy felt it before she knew what had happened. A sharp searing pain ran from the top of her head down the length of her body. She buckled to the floor. Warm blood trickled over her forehead. She fought to keep her eyes open but it was no use. Her vision blurred. Words swirled in the air above her and then the world turned black.

  * * *

  The cottage looked dark as it came into view, but Thomas breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Darcy’s small red automobile parked in front. Thomas slowed Perry to a trot.

  But the closer he got to the cottage the more Perry pranced and pulled. He sidestepped. He flung his weight around. He shook his thick, black mane and began to exhale with sharp, strong breaths.

  “Easy, boy. Easy.” He tried to reassure the frightened animal, but a spooked horse was hard to settle. Especially when Thomas felt a little out of sorts himself. He knew what was bothering him—he was worried about Darcy. But what had the horse so unsettled? Thomas halted the buggy and tied Perry to a hitching post in the back. He moved silently across the back lawn, nearing Jesse’s cottage, then froze when a woman’s loud scream echoed out of the house and across the field.

  Thomas ran along the side of the house toward the front porch. Low, deep, masculine voices sounded in the cold air. Though he couldn’t make out everything they said, they didn’t sound familiar. And from the stray curse word he caught here and there, they certainly didn’t sound Amish.

  Thomas turned the corner of the front porch, just in time to see two men rush out the front door. They hopped into Darcy’s running car and drove off in a red blur.

  Thomas flew through the open front door and scanned the cottage. “Darcy?”

  Then he spotted her lifeless body sprawled over the floor near the kitchen. Her thick dark hair was splayed around her face with bits of blood splattered around her in almost every direction.

  Oh, please, Lord, no! Don’t let her be dead...

  For a millisecond, Thomas staggered, unable to breathe as if he himself had been struck over the head. But just as quickly he shook off the horrible surprise and made his way to her in two broad steps. Kneeling beside her, he steadied himself to check her pulse. The gruesome gash on the front of her head looked deadly and she wasn’t moving.

  He glanced down at the creamy skin of her delicate hands. Her painted nails glinted in the afternoon light.

  He swallowed hard and pressed his fingers against her skin. Please, please be alive. I could never forgive myself if...

  He felt her heart’s rhythm stroke his fingertips. Danki, Lord. Danki!

  He touched her cheek with the back of his hand. She didn’t react. She was out cold. It was like finding Jesse all over again.

  A soft buzzing sounded from the floor beside him. Her phone. He pulled it from her jacket pocket and recognized his own business number displayed on the screen. Elijah—continuing to call, as he’d promised.

  “Elijah, it’s Thomas. I found her,” Thomas said when he answered the phone. “We need to call 911.”

  * * *

  Darcy heard words floating over her but she couldn’t concentrate on them enough to understand. A gentle hand on her forehead pressed a damp cloth against her hot skin. Her eyes fluttered. Light struck her like a club against her skull. Pain radiated from her head all the way down to her fingers.

  “Hey, she’s coming to,” a voice said above her. A voice she didn’t recognize.

  Slowly, Darcy squinted and gazed up. A slender, blonde woman stood, looking down with concern. The woman wore nursing scrubs and her hair was neatly braided into one long strand, flipped over her shoulder. She was pretty and natural. Her deep blue eyes looked sharp and intelligent.

  Darcy glanced over the room, recognizing Jesse’s home. She was on the couch. And there were two Amish men standing by the woodstove. She knew them—Thomas and his friend. They had had lunch together. They had been at the stable. Thomas had shown her that adorable baby horse. Then what? Everything after that was a foggy—and painful—blur.

  The throbbing in her head intensified with the light and movement and sound of voices. She closed her eyes and willed the horrible ache to go away. It hurt to think.

  “Hi, Darcy. I’m Abigail. Abigail Jamison. I’m a nurse and I’m taking care of this head wound of yours until EMS gets here. Then we will get you to the hos
pital.”

  Hospital. Jesse. Beating. Bible. Message. Phone. The progression of thoughts strung together one by one until she remembered what had happened. Images of two huge men flashed through her pain-filled mind.

  “You have a serious head injury,” the nurse continued. “And probably a concussion. Is there someone we can call for you?”

  Darcy felt sick from the horrible pounding in her head. She wanted to vomit, but she didn’t think she could bear the pain of moving her head in order to relieve the nausea. It hurt even to think. “No. Please, don’t call anyone. I’m fine. I just need to...” Go home and forget this place. Forget Jesse. Forget this nonstop nightmare I can’t wake up from.

  “It’s okay. Just try to be still. I hear sirens. The emergency crew must be close. You’re going to need a doctor to stop that bleeding. It’s under control now, but as soon as you move it will start back up again. I know it hurts.”

  Darcy closed her eyes again. She felt exhausted, but too adrenaline charged to relax. She could hear Thomas and Elijah speaking to each other, whispering in a language she did not understand. Pennsylvania Dutch, most likely. The soft sounds soothed the edges of the sharp pain. “Thomas...” she said, trying to sit up, wanting to ask if he’d seen those men. But moving made her head spin. She dropped back against the pillow, and Thomas stepped up to her side.

  A gentle smile cracked over his dark face. “Glad to see you awake and talking. You’ve had us worried ever since you went out to get your phone and did not come back.”

  Someone had attacked her. Fear seized Darcy’s whole being. “Yes, I did. I remember. When I went to the car, I realized my phone had fallen out and I came here to find it. But...”

  She closed her eyes and turned her head away from him. The nausea was overwhelming. The ability to keep her stomach from rebelling grew weaker and weaker.

  “Just let her rest.” The nurse shooed away the two men.

  “There—there were men in Jesse’s house. They attacked me,” Darcy told the blonde. “Did Thomas see them?”

  “He did. He’s called the police. Now, you just rest,” Abigail said.

  “You talk like they do,” Darcy said, her mind swirling in and out of the moment, not sure how to describe the accent the woman shared with the two Amish men.

  “I’m Elijah’s sister. And I’m Jesse’s friend, which means I’m your friend.” She turned the wet cloth on Darcy’s head. “I also happen to be a nurse. I have a clinic nearby. So Thomas called me to come and help make you comfortable while we wait for the EMS.”

  Darcy tried to speak but couldn’t. Tears slid from the corners of her eyes. She gasped for air before the words finally emerged. “I don’t know what they want from me. I don’t know how to make this stop.”

  * * *

  Thomas was back at the hospital. He’d come with Abigail. While doctors patched up Darcy, he decided to visit Jesse. The old man lay in front of him, lifeless. His status had not changed, for better or for worse. Thomas touched his friend’s cold hand. A tear trickled down his cheek. He could not help but think about what life might be like without Jesse. He was much more than a friend. More than a neighbor. In many ways, Jesse had been like a second father to him after his own had passed away. He didn’t want to lose Jesse. He’d already lost too much.

  “I heard you were here,” Dr. Blake Jamison said as he stepped into Jesse’s room. “No change, but Jesse’s holding on. He’s strong. We just have to keep waiting.”

  Thomas hadn’t heard his friend enter. Quickly, he dropped his head and wiped the tears away.

  “Darcy is ready to go home,” Blake continued. “But McClendon is here and wants to talk to her. And to you. They’re waiting for you downstairs in a conference room. I’ll show you.”

  Thomas nodded and followed Blake to a second-floor conference room. He knew that he and Darcy needed to talk to the police, but after being with Jesse he found it hard to transition his thoughts back to the attack on Darcy as he entered the room. What if Jesse was lost to him forever?

  Thomas shook away the dreaded thought. McClendon, Darcy and another woman were seated at the conference table. He paused in the doorway as there seemed to be some dispute between McClendon and the woman as to whether or not he should be allowed in the meeting. Before he could say anything, Darcy interrupted them.

  “I want him here,” she said firmly. “He can answer questions about Jesse that I can’t.”

  McClendon and the woman accepted Darcy’s decision.

  Thomas walked farther into the room, focusing his attention on Darcy. “How’s the head?”

  “It hurts,” she answered with a half smile.

  Thomas could tell by her speech, her clear eyes and her attitude that she was feeling much better. He was glad. And glad he’d arrived at Jesse’s when he had or she might have been hurt even worse.

  “But I’ll be fine. Just a mild concussion and a couple of stitches. I’m not supposed to drive for twenty-four hours, which is fine since I heard the two men made off with my car.”

  “Your car has been found,” McClendon said. “Abandoned only a mile from Jesse’s cottage. The perpetrators most likely used it to get back to their own vehicle as fast as possible. It’s at the station now under examination of my forensics team. Maybe they left prints. At any rate, our guys will check it over to make sure the car hasn’t been tampered with in any way before returning it to you.”

  Darcy smiled. “Thank you. I guess that’s at least one thing less to worry about. But why would they have left their own car so far away?”

  McClendon shrugged. “So that you couldn’t hear them approach? Or, since Mr. Troyer is Amish, they might worry that a vehicle out front would be cause for concern.”

  “Hi, I’m Agent Susan Danvers with the US Marshals office.” The other woman in the room stood and offered a hand to Thomas. It was clear that she did not like being left out of the conversation. “We were just discussing you, Mr. Nolt.”

  Thomas could also tell she disapproved of his presence. “Yes, I heard the last bit. But I’m Jesse’s neighbor and closest friend. I would like to be here. Thank you.”

  The woman was in her midforties. She was tall and dressed all in black with a tight-fitting jacket that read United States Marshal on the left side. Her short blond hair had been purposely spiked out in every direction. He would like to believe that she was truly only interested in helping, but he noticed that she seemed overly official and self-important.

  “US Marshals? Doesn’t your agency transport criminals?”

  “Among other things,” Danvers snapped. In front of her was a large, open leather case. Its contents had been spread across the table. In her hand was an identification card, which she flashed at Thomas.

  As they shook hands, Thomas caught a sense it wasn’t just his presence that was upsetting her.

  Thomas took a seat across from Darcy. Agent Danvers and McClendon began to speak at the same time. When he didn’t immediately gesture for her to go first, Danvers looked over at McClendon with great annoyance.

  “Excuse me, Chief.” Agent Danvers’s tone was snippy and arrogant. “Let me tell you what I know and then I have to be off. I have other cases to handle that aren’t twenty years old.”

  McClendon inclined his head.

  “Before Jesse joined the Amish church, he was in possession of some very valuable material.”

  “I thought he helped to put a murderer away?” Darcy asked.

  “He did.” The woman looked slightly surprised that this information was already known, but she recovered quickly and smiled at Darcy. Her expression was tight. “He was a key witness in the William Wissenberg murder trial.”

  “So Wissenberg is the man who killed my mother?” Darcy said.

  Danvers’s smile dissolved into a frown. “Your mother died during the trial
in a car crash. Your father claimed that the crash was orchestrated to scare him out of testifying. Of course, the authorities were unable to find any proof of that, but your father’s fear for you endangered his willingness to testify, so you, your grandparents and your father were entered into the witness relocation program.”

  “But why were we separated?”

  “I think that was a stipulation your grandparents made,” Danvers replied. “Something about them blaming him for your mother’s car crash. I don’t know the details. This all occurred before I came to work for the department...” She paused and pressed her lips together. “Miss Simmons, did Jesse Troyer pass along anything to you before...?”

  “Before he was beaten into a coma?” Darcy looked at Danvers. She seemed to struggle with her emotions as she crossed her arms over her chest. One hand raised to the locket hanging around her neck. She rubbed the charm between her finger and thumb. “We exchanged some pictures and letters. He bought me a coffee and—”

  A buzzing sound filled the small room.

  “Oh, that’s me,” Danvers said, checking the phone hitched to her waistband. “I’ll need to take this. Excuse me for just one second.”

  She answered the phone and left the room. Thomas felt like the front of opposition had departed with her.

  “Wi-ssen-beeerg.” McClendon wasted not a second before typing the name into his small tablet. “I guess that’s who the W.W. on the note could be. Says here that he was released one week ago after serving a twenty-year sentence for the murder of a private security guard. If Jesse helped put him in jail, maybe this is all an act of revenge?”

  “Except revenge would only motivate one person, and there were two men who attacked me.” Darcy looked over at the screen on the tablet. “And they were both way too young to be that guy.”

  Thomas nodded. He agreed with Darcy. The two men he’d seen leaving Jesse’s house were much younger than the man who’d been released from prison.

  “Perhaps, they were hired muscle,” added McClendon.

  Agent Danvers burst back into the room and began gathering her things. “Well, it turns out, I’m going to have to go, so let me get to the point, Miss Simmons. Your location has been compromised. So, I’m here to ask if you’d like to be relocated to ensure your safety.”