Kate took the envelope back to the buggy, where she wiped her prints from the phone. Kate placed the phone inside the envelope, being careful to use water to seal the paper container. The last thing she needed was to have her DNA floating around on an envelope that contained evidence in a murder case.
Kate knew that sending something in the mail without a return address could be tricky, so she wrote down the address of the fire station that was located close to the police precinct. If the envelope got lost or had to be returned to its sender, she was sure the fire department would be the best bet, as they would most likely take it to the police station after receiving it.
As Kate set off to post the letter, the facts of the case rushed through her thoughts. Who exactly was Ethan Jackson, and how was he linked to the two men she had dealt with when she was Federal Agent? And who was the Lucas guy that the victim had tried to call for help? Nothing made any sense. All she knew was that something bad was invading the innocent community, and she could not let that happen.
Kate stopped at the first mailbox she saw, and gently dropped in the phone, while letting out a sigh of relief. “Let’s hope you find your way,” she said.
Job 28:28.
And he said to man, “Behold, the fear of the Lord, that is wisdom, and to turn away from evil is understanding.”
Chapter 7.
Kate found herself back in town at the end of the week. She had asked Beth if she could borrow the buggy for the day, and Beth had agreed, stating that Kate needed to get out and about. The Amish community had a nice quiet charm that Kate was learning to appreciate. Yet the town itself was much closer to her comfort zone. The sights and sounds had an almost nostalgic feel to them. She missed the hustle and bustle of keeping the streets relatively safe. She missed the late nights and the early mornings dealing with witnesses.
It was nice to get out and stretch her legs now and then, and with a crime to solve, she felt a lot closer to home. It would have been nice to have a tablet or something with which to search through databases in a WiFi hotspot. Yet it wouldn't be the first time she had to make do with what she had.
Where to start was the question. Kate needed to check through newspaper archives to find out how much the public in general knew. She needed to scan through public records of the victim.
Kate’s stomach growled as the smell of fast food and charred meats caught her attention. She thought that a club sandwich with fries was sounding pretty good right now. A soda, perhaps - a big Cherry Pepsi. It didn't even have to be a diet one.
Kate was going to need to do a little therapy shopping before she went back. Some sweetener and coffee flavoring in particular. The world always looked better with coffee. In fact, there was a rather nice looking café right on the corner. Kate decided to get a good lunch and then start into her work. It would be refreshing to pretend she was back to her normal life for a little while. But first, she needed a club sandwich and Pepsi.
The cafe was very quaint, although after the weeks in the community, the noises of town were almost overwhelming. Kate tried to remember if ring tones and cooking instruments had always been so loud, and if people had always been in such a hurry. She could smell a whole host of different foods in the air.
The booths were all filled with patrons eating and chatting away amongst one another. Near the doorway, she saw people with a laptop, a tablet, several notebooks, and various folders scattered across their table. It was not that long ago that she would have been one of those people. It had been part of her normal routine. And ironically, she was always telling herself she needed to slow down.
Then when I slow down, I am constantly wanting to be back out there full throttle, Kate thought, smiling at herself.
As Kate moved to the counter to place an order, she noticed a familiar face. Tall, dark, handsome. Five o clock shadow. What was Ryan doing here? Granted this town was where he lived, worked and patrolled, but out of all the places to eat in town, why here?
It wasn't that she didn't like him, far from it. The problem was that he was way too sharp for his own good. She could not afford for him to take too much of an interest in her comings and goings. She could not afford for Ryan to become skeptical of the amnesiac Amish girl routine. The last thing she needed was for him to get curious enough to ask the wrong question, get a wrong hunch, and start looking into her nonexistent community. She doubted her boss would appreciate her getting her cover blown by being too careless with a small-town detective.
That was the last thing Kate needed while trying to solve a case on the sly. Why was it that you always run into the one person you do not want to see when you go into town? she asked herself. Go without makeup and sweat pants, there are two of your colleagues in the same checkout line. Trying to go undercover? There's the one guy who could complicate things right there!
Maybe a tactical retreat was in order. There were other cafés out there. Kate could even try to hunt down the one where Beckie’s cousin, Jeremiah, was staying. Food and a chat in one step. She could find out details about the whole protection business over lunch and kill two birds with one stone. She also needed to be on her A-game on her investigation this afternoon. It wasn't like she was trying to avoid Ryan – well, perhaps she was trying to avoid him a little.
Squaring her shoulders, Kate took a deep breath. She was going to get her Pepsi and something good to eat. And maybe she would even find out something about the case. Well, that was unlikely, but still worth a shot.
“Good afternoon!” she said, causing Ryan to look up, surprised, from his burger. She noticed right away that he looked on the haggard side. She knew the look very well - one too many frustrating, late nights. He looked a little puzzled seeing her in front of him.
“Ah, Kate. How are you?” Ryan asked as he smiled widely at her. “Keeping out of trouble?”
“I do try.” She gave a well practiced smile that hopefully laid on the charm of a friendly Amish woman. She was doing better with her position, but she still had a way to go to make her role natural. “How is the case going? Have you managed to find out what happened with that poor man?”
“Sorry, Kate, I can’t give you any details other than the ones I’ve already given you,” he said.
Kate looked at the dark circles under his eyes. He looked like he had only gotten an hour or two’s sleep at best. “That bad, huh?” She grimaced in sympathy. She knew what it was like to live on two hours’ sleep on a frustrating case, with bosses constantly nagging for progress. False leads. Dead ends. She had her fair share with the crime ring he was trailing. In fact there still begged the question if he even knew it was a crime ring yet.
“Pretty bad, yes.” Ryan gave a thin smile as he nodded in agreement.
Kate was upset. Apparently the phone had been less than helpful - either that, or no one in the station made the right connections.
“That's a shame.” She tried her best to hide her disappointment. This problem needed to be fixed before the crime ring really got its hooks into the area. She could imagine bodies appearing in the back fields of the Amish farmers. The ring certainly didn't care much about leaving their mess in a pond by the road. So then, how long would it be before they started showing up in barns and doorsteps?
But how to get the locals to pick up and get moving on this case? She wanted to call her boss, but he had made it clear that she could not use the emergency phone to try to bring in federal help. There was also the distinct risk she would run into someone she knew during the investigation, ruining her cover. No, she couldn't pull in the professionals, even if they were best suited for the problem.
“May I help you?” Kate turned at the voice to see a young lady waiting patiently for her order. She checked the menu, and was happy to find that they did indeed serve Pepsi. No cherry Pepsi, but she was willing to settle.
By the time she finished making her order, Ryan looked a little surprised. His brows were raised slightly as he regarded her.
“It's not against the r
ules to eat out,” she said, giving him an amused smile. She had the excuse of never dealing with the Amish before she came here. She felt a little better about her ignorance knowing the town locals were not much better. “Some of the Old Order Amish beg to differ sometimes. But we’re really not all that different from anyone else.”
“Sorry, you're right,” he said agreeably, although as usual, he seemed to be trying to puzzle her out. “So what brought you to town?”
Oh dear, she had forgotten to work out that cover story. Time to think fast! “I’m meeting a friend here. We’re going shopping for yarn and some new knitting needles. I got here early, so I thought I’d come in and get some lunch.”
“I see,” Ryan said, although he looked as if he didn’t quite believe her. She could not tell if he was suspicious of her, or if he always looked that way. It would really help if she could get into his head and figure out what thoughts were running around in there.
“I do enjoy the knitting circle,” she continued, putting on an innocent voice. “The ladies are so lovely to talk to. Oh, one even said her cousin had a close encounter with a crime ring the other day.”
“Is that so?” Ryan did not appear interested.
Nevertheless, Kate proceeded to tell him some of the details she had gathered in the knitting circle. She even added some irrelevant details about knitting and the ladies to give her ramble more authenticity.
Ryan scrambled to grab a napkin and hunt down a working pen to write down details. She enjoyed the impatient, excited gleam in his eyes as he tried to guide her back onto the topic each time she tried to ramble about knitting or one of the ladies. It was fun being on this end of an official chat.
Kate found herself enjoying her meal as Ryan got every detail he could, although of course she was careful to give the details inefficiently. She was a clueless civilian after all. As much as it pained her to have to leave most of her actual knowledge out of the conversation, she had an image to keep. And after a lengthy fretting over what would be the best cake for her turn to serve the knitting circle, she had a feeling he was a far less suspicious of her civilian status.
They talked a little more, but as expected, Ryan excused himself to go elsewhere. Kate sighed contently and finished her meal.
It was early afternoon when Kate made her way back home.
After Kate rubbed down the horse and fed him, she saw Beth taking in her laundry. She waved as she approached, quickly moving to help take the clothes off the lines. While Kate hated doing laundry without a modern washing machine, she did love the fresh scent of the air dried sheets. She especially loved the scent of the towels which Beth always dried on the lavender bushes.
“How was town, Kate? You were gone quite a while.” Beth folded a sheet and put it in the bottom of her basket.
“It went well. I spent most of it walking around.”
Beth nodded. “That’s wonderful dear. Getting out and seeing people should be wonderful for your condition.”
Kate noticed that Beth seemed excited. “Did anything happen while I was gone?” she asked.
“I found a letter from Rose,” Beth said in a conspiratorial whisper. “To Samuel, that is. And knowing her, she'll never send it to him.”
“I see.”
“Would you help me out, Kate?”
Kate blinked, puzzled over the sudden request. “With what?”
Despite the fact that they were the only two people there in at least half a mile, Beth smiled and leaned in close. “I've invited Samuel over for dinner. I need you to help me get Rose and Samuel together.”
Kate gave an uncomfortable smile. “Of course I will. I don’t think I’m any good at matchmaking, though.”
The look of profound disappointment on Beth’s face made Kate feel guilty. “You know what? Now that I think about it, I’m sure I can be of some help,” Kate amended quickly.
Her comment seemed to perk Beth up. Beth chatted on about the details excitedly as she and Kate finished folding the laundry.
Psalm 29:1-11.
A Psalm of David. Ascribe to the Lord, O heavenly beings, ascribe to the Lord glory and strength. Ascribe to the Lord the glory due his name; worship the Lord in the splendor of holiness. The voice of the Lord is over the waters; the God of glory thunders, the Lord, over many waters. The voice of the Lord is powerful; the voice of the Lord is full of majesty. The voice of the Lord breaks the cedars; the Lord breaks the cedars of Lebanon.
Chapter 8.
Kate approached the tall, decrepit apartment building where the homicide victim, Ethan Jackson, was reported to live. The address was 206. Since that probably meant his apartment was on the second floor, Kate walked around the exterior until she saw a fire escape leading up one level. Leaping into the air like a grasshopper in the fields, her hands gripped the cold, wrought iron rung and she hoisted herself up onto the ladder. She slowly climbed to the landing and approached the window.
Kate hoped no one had seen an Amish woman shimmying up the ladder.
Since the victim wouldn’t be coming home, Kate expected the apartment to be vacant. She attempted to open the window; it slid upward with ease. Weird. In this type of neighborhood, she was sure the windows should always be locked. She slipped inside, and when she turned around, she noticed a half-full gallon of milk sitting beside a spilled puddle of the liquid on the kitchen counter. Weird again. It was almost like someone left in a hurry.
Deciding she had no choice but to ignore the peculiarity of the situation, Kate chose to focus on the goal at hand. She entered the living room and noticed a laptop sitting atop a wooden computer desk. She plopped into the comfortable chair and relived city life for a brief moment. She opened the laptop and tried to log on. Access denied.
Frustration seeped in as she tried to refocus. She pressed a few buttons in unison and a prompt bleeped onto the bios screen. She tapped away at the keys until another window opened, asking her to confirm that she wanted to continue. She pressed yes. Suddenly, the screen flashed before a green text littered the screen: Access granted. She was in.
Sifting through the man’s files, Kate came across an assortment of photographs, music files, pirated movies, and everything else one would expect to find on the computer of a middle-aged hitman. She opened up his web browser and clicked the mailbox icon from his homepage. She looked more closely and noticed the email user’s account name: EvilSnake143. Odd. Kate did not pay a second thought to the matter and began searching through his emails. One after another, she read through spam mail, news from his favorite websites, and some conversations with a girlfriend.
After a few more sweeps of the computer, Kate realized it held nothing of importance. It made sense to her that no information of his extortions existed on his hard drive, as it was highly unlikely that hitmen conducted their business online. Through her dealings with those types of men in the past, she knew they were a highly suspicious group. They left nothing to chance.
When Kate turned her attention to the bedroom, she noticed several things seemed out of place. The drawers of several dressers were left half opened, and the closet was also left open, with clothes strewn all across the floor. It was starting to make her think that maybe she wasn’t the only one who had snooped around the victim’s apartment.
Kate knew the police had been there, of course, but they would not have been so careless with the scene. Milk left sitting on the counter, tussled drawers and clothing, and most likely coming in through the window: what type of cop would do those things? None that she had ever worked with.
Continuing her inspection, Kate walked into the kitchen for the first time. She had noticed the milk earlier, but failed to examine the area closely at the time. The milk was still cold when she placed her finger against the container. To her trained eyes, it looked like someone had made themselves at home, ransacking the apartment, looking for information, and even pouring a nice, refreshing glass of whole milk before they were somehow interrupted.
Kate approached the clos
et doorway, and peeked in to see a room littered with the ultimate biker’s bedroom. Leather jackets were draped over a large sofa, with posters of rock and roll favorites scrawled out along the walls. As she looked around, she heard the sound of metals scraping against each other in the direction of the front door. Click - the door swung open and she pulled her head back inside the bedroom.
Kate hid behind the door, hoping the intruder wouldn’t come looking where she was. Suddenly, Kate heard the chatter of a police radio as it cackled to life. “This is dispatch, please go 55.”
An all too familiar voice answered. “10-4, on location now.” The man continued walking through the apartment, when his footsteps grew closer to Kate’s location. One by one, each step grew louder, so she crept backward toward a wooden door. It was an odd-looking door; it was thin, and its face resembled window blinds, with countless slits in the wood, allowing someone to look out from inside the room, but looking in, you could see nothing but the solid, oak door. Kate grasped the doorknob in her hand and without looking, withdrew into the narrow room. Pitch darkness surrounded her.
Confused, Kate realized the room had no windows, so the light from the sun could not reach the inside. The smell of the room tickled at her nose; it was odd and peculiar, something she had never smelled before. Her curiosity ceased when she heard the steps outside the blinded door. A flashlight shone in through the slots in the door, partially illuminating the room. Kate involuntarily reached over silently and locked the door from the inside. She then backed up and waited.
The doorknob jiggled, making the most terrifying noise she had heard in months. It caused her to step backward clumsily. Her back cracked against what felt like a solid block of stone. When she had steadied herself, the doorknob shook even more violently and the door began to creak.
In Plain View (Amish Safe House, Book 2) Page 4