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Guarding The Amish Midwife (Amish Country Justice Book 6)

Page 4

by Dana R. Lynn


  Lizzy hadn’t thought the day could get much worse. She was wrong. She had fallen on the bad side of a drug dealer who had no last name, that no one could describe, but who had enough power to make people disappear.

  People like her. Who was she, after all, but an Amish girl from a very small community in a quiet part of Pennsylvania? If she disappeared, would her family go to the police? It was a possibility, especially since her kidnapping. She recalled her father had allowed police officers at her brother’s wedding four years ago because Rebecca had been in danger again.

  They hadn’t been so quick to go to the police the first time her sister had been taken, though. She remembered when Rebecca had been kidnapped with a few of her school friends so many years ago. Her parents had been hesitant to work with the police, but they had. To an extent. When it came to having Rebecca actually testify against her kidnapper, they had refused. Rebecca had gone against her parents’ and the bishop’s wishes and testified. It hadn’t been a difficult decision for her, though, because she’d already made the decision to leave the community so she could take advantage of the deaf community in the Englisch world. Being deaf had kept Rebecca isolated from many in the community. She didn’t read lips, and the language she used was American Sign Language, which her parents had struggled to learn. No one had blamed her when she left.

  Lizzy, however, wouldn’t leave.

  Isaac’s phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket. “It’s the chief. Hold on a minute.” He answered the phone. “Yoder here, Chief.”

  It seemed strange hearing an Amish last name in that way.

  “Yes, ma’am, she’s here with me. I can do that.”

  A second later he hung up the phone. She tensed at the expression on his face. It was grave, and her insides quivered as she waited to hear what was coming.

  “We might have a sighting on the car that Zave drove. It looks like he abandoned it. I didn’t get a good look at it when he drove past us, so the chief wants me to take you to where it was found. She hopes that you might be able to confirm it was the car used by our shooter.”

  She nodded. “I can do that.”

  He stood. “Let’s head out. The sooner we find this guy, the sooner you’ll be safe to go to your cousin’s house.”

  She grabbed her cloak from the rack where it had been hanging and tossed it over her shoulders. The black bonnet was quickly pulled on over her kapp. Then she was ready to leave. Even as she walked out to his cruiser with him, though, Lizzy couldn’t completely quell her nerves. She was once again mixed up with a killer. Would she be alive when it was all over?

  FOUR

  Lizzy clasped her shaking hands together on her lap, more to keep them still than for any other reason. The urge to fidget was strong but she focused on not giving in. Her father had admonished her frequently for her inability to be still. Anxiety crawled up and down her arms. She knew if she moved her cloak aside and looked down at her arms, she would see that the hairs covering them would be standing on end. She could feel the tingle.

  Other than several sidelong glances, Isaac didn’t seem to notice anything out of the ordinary. And why should he? He didn’t know that she was prone to panic attacks. Or had been. He had no idea how hard it was for her to calmly sit next to a strange man, even a police officer. Although the fact that he was a police officer did not automatically gain her trust.

  She was going to jump out of her skin soon if they didn’t talk. But what could she possibly say to this strange man? She recalled the words he’d said earlier, and the slight accent of his voice, very faint, but she still detected it.

  “Were you Plain before you were a cop?” The words blurted from her tongue, followed by a blaze of embarrassed warmth that slashed across her face. She couldn’t believe she had asked such a personal question! Even if he used to be Amish, he might have been shunned, or left for painful reasons. Reasons that he might not want to discuss with someone he had just met.

  “I’m sorry!” She met his hooded glance, saw the caution and felt even worse. “I should not have asked. It’s just that I am feeling very antsy. Talking might help.”

  Not to mention the fact that she was very curious. Her mamm would definitely not approve of her asking such an intimate question. She opened her mouth to change the subject, but he was speaking before she could get anything out.

  “I will say that I was Amish, growing up. I left seven years ago, when I was seventeen.” His tone, while not cold, did not encourage further questions.

  He left the Amish when he was seventeen. Some of her tension eased. If he had left so young, chances were that he had left before being baptized. That would have been an awkward discussion.

  “I have a sister who left around the same age,” she offered, wanting to show that she wasn’t trying to judge him. “Rebecca is deaf, and she felt that she needed to be able to take advantage of some of the services available in the Englisch world. She’s married to a cop from LaMar Pond, a man by the name of Miles Olsen.”

  “Sergeant Olsen?” Surprise colored his voice as he cast a querying glance her way.

  “You know him?” Obviously, he had heard of him. Otherwise, he wouldn’t know the name. She felt silly for asking.

  “Sure do. We have talked a time or two at trainings and met at conferences. I have seen his wife, too. I never realized that she was former Amish like me.”

  Somehow, the fact that he knew Miles made her feel more comfortable around him. It was odd. Usually when she met a strange man, it took weeks of knowing the person for her be able to have a reasonable conversation. Other than worrying that she might offend him, she hadn’t felt uncomfortable with being in Isaac’s presence so far. She relaxed back against the seat and unclasped her hands. She stretched her fingers. They had started to ache.

  Isaac steered the cruiser off the main highway, and several minutes later they were headed down a narrow dirt road. The road was similar to the one that Lizzy lived on. It was higher in the center, telling her the grader had recently been through with more gravel to level out the potholes that formed several times a year. Potholes that could damage a horse if the animal stepped into them while pulling a buggy.

  The tension that had fled came back a few minutes later when Isaac pulled in behind the car that had been abandoned along the edge of the road. She could not be positive, but it looked very similar to the car driven by the man she’d seen shoot her friend’s brother. So many cars looked the same to her, but it seemed too coincidental that they would find one abandoned so close to where the shooting had happened, and on the same day.

  “Wait here.”

  Isaac eased his weapon off the belt at his waist and slowly climbed from the car. He held the weapon in front of him with his arms stiff, but kept the barrel pointed to the ground. His eyes never stopped scanning the area. She watched as he peered into the vehicle. First the backseat, then the front seat. Turning in a full circle, he scanned the area around them. Finally, she saw his posture resume its normal stance. He jogged over to where she was waiting. His short blond hair bounced on his forehead. It was endearing.

  “Is this it?”

  “I think so. It looks the same,” she responded. That apparently was all he needed to know. He strode back to the driver’s side door of the abandoned car, pulling a pair of gloves out of his pocket and putting them on before opening the front door of the vehicle. She knew that Miles carried gloves in his pocket, as well, just in case he needed to touch something in a crime scene without contaminating it. She leaned forward as he opened the door.

  Nothing happened. He reached in and did something, and a second later she heard a loud clunk. The trunk bounced open an inch.

  Curious, she leaned forward, watching as he hefted the trunk lid open. His whole body stilled. She knew by the abruptness that he had found something unpleasant. His one hand went to the radio on his shoulder, the other one held his wea
pon aloft again. He turned in a slow circle.

  Her stomach churned. When he looked at her, the color leeched from her face at the stare he leveled at her. She knew that he had found something that would impact her. When he released the button on his radio and headed her way, she instinctively pushed herself back against the seat. Whatever he was going to tell her, she definitely did not want to hear it.

  Isaac reached her door and opened it. He squatted down so that his face was only slightly below hers.

  “Lizzy. I found a body in the trunk. From your description, I have to believe it’s Bill. I will need you to confirm it.”

  Tears sprang to the back of her eyes. She hadn’t known Bill long, and she definitely had not trusted him. She had been furious with him mere hours before now. But she certainly had not wished him to come to harm. What would she say when she saw Sue?

  The fears that had started to fade to the background rushed in on her again. The last thing she wanted to do was go and look at a body. A lead ball sank to the pit of her stomach. She couldn’t do it. But she knew she had to. She owed it to Sue to confirm that Bill was dead.

  Casting a glance at the policeman sitting so close to her, she let the concern on his face anchor her. Isaac would be with her. She would not have to do this difficult duty on her own. Pulling a breath deep into her lungs, she held it a moment and then let it out slowly.

  She started to get out of the car.

  “You don’t have to do it now. We can...”

  She brushed his hands aside and moved to the back of the other vehicle. Holding her breath, she blinked as a form came into focus as she neared it. Gradually, the whole person came into view. She saw the ordinary face. It was so pale his skin looked like it was wax. She saw the leather jacket. The dark stain on his T-shirt. Momentarily she felt woozy when she saw it, knowing it was blood.

  Tears filled her eyes. She swallowed and backed away from the trunk. Isaac’s hand touched her shoulder briefly to steady her. She barely noticed. Any hope that Bill was still alive faded as she faced the undeniable proof that he had been killed.

  And she was the only person who could identify his killer.

  * * *

  Isaac led Lizzy back to his car. Keeping his eyes locked on her face, he backed away from the vehicle and quickly called in to the station, asking when the other officer he’d requested upon finding the body would arrive. He disconnected after learning the second officer was en route. Their station had a policy to have two officers deal with a crime scene whenever possible. He scanned the Amish woman sitting in his car. She looked so small sitting there alone. All color had fled from her face. She was so pale he half expected her to pass out at any instant. He had not intended for her to see the body then, before others had arrived, but it was too late to change the fact that she had seen it. He knew how shocking that could be, especially the first time.

  The first dead body he had seen had been his own brother. He gave his head a hard shake to dislodge the thought. He had to focus on the job at hand, and on the witness sitting in his vehicle.

  “Lizzy,” he began. He stopped when her gaze lifted to his. The breath stalled in his body at the haunted expression mired in the blue eyes. Was she even seeing him standing before her?

  “It’s happening again.” Her words were so soft he barely caught them.

  He leaned closer to hear her. He recalled her earlier words about being in a similar situation before. It was about time he found out exactly what had happened.

  “What’s happening again?”

  She continued to look through him. It was almost as though she had forgotten where she was or that he was there with her. He thought for a moment that she hadn’t even registered his question. He was relieved when she opened her mouth to answer him, but her answer was absolutely not what he had expected.

  “A little over thirteen years ago,” she began, “my older sister, Rebecca, and some of her friends were kidnapped. I was never sure of all the details... I was only seven at the time, and my family did not discuss it openly. Rebecca has told me some of it. Apparently, the man was someone they knew from school. Rebecca went to an Englisch school for a while because they had a deaf classroom. I don’t know any of the other girls involved. I know that one of the girls had died, but then the kidnapper was sent to prison and life went on. But it wasn’t over. Around four years ago, we were forced to go through the situation again when his brother came after Rebecca. I was with her and he abducted us both. I will never in my life forget being chained up in that basement, just waiting to die. It was then that I really understood the concept of our mortality.”

  He was completely shocked by what she had admitted to him. Her voice, though quiet, was steady. She could have been discussing what she had eaten for breakfast rather than one of the most horrific experiences a person could endure. His admiration for her grew. It took strength to come out of a terrifying situation and keep your faith, but she obviously had.

  “What happened? How did you get out?” he asked her, keeping his voice calm as if he were speaking to a young child and not a mature woman around his own age.

  A slight smile parted her lips.

  “Miles saved us. I thought we were going to die. It took me a long time to be able to sleep through the night again. I had panic attacks for over a year. But I thought, I really thought, that I had lived through the worst trauma I would ever have to go through. I was wrong—this is so much scarier, to see someone killed right in front of you. I don’t feel like I have the strength to go through something like this again. But I don’t have a choice, do I?”

  He took a moment to think about how he could answer her. It was unfair that she would have to deal with such darkness twice in her life. Many people would have broken by now. She was scared; he could see the fear and anxiety battling within her. He could tell by her pale features that she was struggling to take in everything that had happened. But he could also see strength and determination in the way she held her posture erect.

  Following his instincts, he reached out and gripped her hands in his. They were cool to the touch. She raised startled eyes to his face and finally focused on him. “Lizzy, I know this is bad, and I know that you are scared. I’ll tell you the truth. I find these situations unsettling, too. But I will also give you my promise. I will not rest until you are safe and the man responsible for the death of Mr. Allister is in custody.”

  He held still as she searched his face. When she nodded, he felt the honor she’d bestowed. He doubted, after hearing her story, that she trusted people, or men, readily. That she was giving him her trust...he knew that he had to do his best to live up to that trust.

  Gravel crunched. Another car was pulling up. Isaac stood, not wanting one of his fellow officers to see him holding the hands of a witness. Not that he had done anything wrong, but he felt like what had happened was personal, and others didn’t need to know that detail. An ambulance pulled up and the coroner exited the passenger side of the car and headed immediately to the open trunk, the barest of nods his only greeting.

  Ryder stepped from his own cruiser, raising a questioning eyebrow in Isaac’s direction. Isaac caught the nod tossed toward Lizzy. He understood the question.

  “Body in the trunk,” he murmured when he was within earshot of his friend and colleague. “She confirmed that it’s William Allister.”

  Ryder sighed and nodded. “I had hoped that we would find that he hadn’t been killed. She said he had a sister, right? Do we know if that was his only family?”

  Isaac shrugged. “Guess we’ll have to ask Lizzy for that information.”

  Lizzy, it turned out, didn’t know. “I have never heard Sue talk of any other family members before. She only talked about her brother. I have no idea if there is anyone else.”

  Isaac exchanged a quick glance with Ryder. “Are you certain that Bill was her brother?”

  “Jah
. I was unhappy when he showed up at my house instead of Sue. She had sent a letter, but I still had him use his phone to call her. She told me she had sent him in her place because she was sick.”

  “No doubt he set up his meeting with Zave after he found out where he was heading.”

  The coroner joined them. “I will, of course, need to examine the body more thoroughly, but I feel confident in saying that the young man was killed by a single gunshot.”

  “We have a bullet from the scene,” Ryder said.

  Isaac nodded. “And the car our witness was driving might have a second bullet. So we should be able to identify the gun the bullets came from.”

  Isaac felt like he was replaying the scene from earlier as a tow truck came and the driver loaded up the car. Ryder stuck around long enough to see that the car was gone, then he waved and jogged back to his own vehicle. He made a U-turn in the middle of the road and soon was headed back to town.

  “I need to call Sue,” Lizzy said suddenly into the silence as Isaac started to drive again.

  “Do you know the number?” Isaac reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. She started to dial as soon as he handed it her. He was surprised. He had half expected her to refuse to use the phone, because the Amish didn’t usually use cell phones.

  “I would not use this phone, except that it is an emergency. My bishop once told me that there are times when mercy needs to take precedence over rules.” She put the phone to her ear. He heard a voice answer and saw the wince cross his passenger’s face. He wanted to wince in sympathy. He’d made plenty of those calls in his life.

  “Sue, it’s Lizzy... I’m sorry, I have bad news... No, no. I’m not hurt, but I have something to tell you about Bill.”

  Her voice trembled as she told Sue of the fate her brother had suffered. He could hear the moment the weeping began on the other end of the line.

 

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