They both knew what did matter now.
“I wonder,” Daniel said, “if one component of the embezzlement was putting something over on Steven. He was supposed to be the financial genius, and he didn’t even notice all the fake expenditures?”
Oh, yes, she could see that. Their secret pleasure, because in their eyes they were proving themselves smarter than Mr. Harvard.
Daniel’s phone rang again. This time, after a glance, he said, “I should take this call.”
“Go.” She flapped her hand toward the door.
He smiled, kissed her lightly and went. He was already talking on the phone by the time the door swung slowly shut behind him. A minute later, he popped back in to dump some change on the table.
“Last door on the left is the break room. Get yourself something to eat or another soda.”
And then she was left to watch the second hand jerk slowly around the big wall clock. And pray.
Dear Lord, don’t let an innocent woman and child suffer in my place.
* * *
THE CALL DANIEL had hoped for came fifty-seven minutes after Rebecca had spoken to Tim Gregory.
“Daniel, we have something here you’ve been looking for,” said Ben Slater, Byrum police chief. “An Amish woman and kid. They’re shaken, but not badly hurt so far as we can tell.”
Daniel murmured a silent thank-you to the Lord. “I’ll drive over and pick them up. You have them at the station?”
“I do.”
“Where were they found?”
“They were dumped out of a van on the outskirts of town. Nobody was close enough to get a license plate, even though half a dozen people saw the van brake just before two people came tumbling out. One witness told me she’d seen someone throw a cat and kittens out of a car once, and this was just like that. Mrs. Lantz’s apron was caught in the door and ripped and she’s moving a little stiffly. The boy skinned his hands when he hit the pavement, but we’ve cleaned him up.”
“Thanks, Ben. I don’t have to tell you what a relief this is.”
“Is there more going on than you’ve told me?”
Daniel didn’t hesitate. He quickly summed up recent events, leaving out only his personal involvement with Rebecca.
“Well, damn,” Ben said.
They signed off, and Daniel bounded down the stairs. He went first to tell Melissa Sue to call off the search, that the Lantzes had been found, then opened the door of the conference room.
If Rebecca had moved since he had left her, he couldn’t tell. Her book lay closed on the table. But when she saw his jubilant smile, she sagged.
“They’re safe?”
“They are. Thanks to you.” He circled the table to draw her out of her chair into a hug, not caring whether anyone passing in the hall saw. He shared what Slater had told him, and said, “I’m going to pick them up and take them directly home unless they need any medical attention.”
She let out a shuddery breath. “Oh, thank God.”
“Your phone call worked, sweetheart.”
“But we’re no closer to catching Tim or Josh.”
“I’m hoping Anna can tell me something that will help. How many men she saw and who. If she has any idea where they were held.”
“I did say—”
“That they wouldn’t be charged with kidnapping Anna and her son, and they won’t. Even without your promise, I can’t imagine she would be willing to testify in court.”
“No.” Rebecca sank back into the chair.
He frowned. “I hate to leave you stuck here, but I don’t see an alternative.”
“No, I suppose I can’t go anywhere until after dark.”
Oh, crap. Had he given her the impression she’d be returning to his aunt and uncle’s? Daniel grimaced.
“Rebecca, at this point, I’d rather you keep some distance from Matthew, and the Amish in general.”
“But...”
“I’d rather keep you closer.” Would she trust him enough to go along with his plan? He had to say it. “I want you to stay with me for now.”
She gaped, finally managing to say, “You mean...your house?”
“Yes. I have plenty of room, and there’s no reason anyone would suspect you’re there.” He shook his head when she appeared ready to object. “I need to get going. We can talk about it when I come back. Yes, I know Amos won’t approve, and probably your uncle won’t, either. But you’ll be safe. Anna’s kidnapping tells us these scumbags will do anything to get their hands on you. I doubt it will occur to them that you’d leave Matthew behind. He should be safe with Amos and Barbara. For all anyone but their church members know, they have two grandsons visiting.”
“Yes, but—”
Daniel smiled. “Store up your arguments for later.”
She blinked a couple of times. “Okay. You’re right. Go.”
“If you need anything—”
“I’ll ask the woman out front.”
“Melissa Sue.” And, damn, he wanted to kiss her before he left, but with an inarticulate sound he made himself leave Rebecca in that bare conference room and jog out the back to his SUV.
* * *
DANIEL COULD AGREE that Anna Lantz was a pretty woman, but with a pleasantly rounded face she didn’t look much like Rebecca, whose features were delicate. Anna’s hair was closer to auburn than Rebecca’s chestnut, too, and far curlier. Any of the men who knew Rebecca wouldn’t have mistaken this woman for her, which meant her abductors had been hired muscle.
Shy with him and obviously overwhelmed by events, Anna hesitated to get into a police car, but finally did so. Daniel fastened her son’s seat belt in back, the mother craning her neck to watch. She managed her own, but awkwardly. Not all Amish had ridden in cars. Anna might not have been rebellious enough to have Englisch friends during her running-around years, and perhaps as an adult, she’d never had need of a taxi or a ride from an Englisch neighbor.
Learning that they hadn’t eaten since morning, he detoured into the drive-through of a burger place, and soon Luke was slurping happily on a milk shake in the backseat while Anna devoured a burger in the front. She didn’t say a word until she’d finished it.
Then, voice soft, she asked if her husband knew what had happened.
Daniel stuck to English so the boy wouldn’t be able to understand. “Yes, I talked to him and your mother-in-law after your horse and buggy were found abandoned. I know he’s scared.”
“Colleen—my horse—was she hurt?” Anna asked anxiously.
“No, pretty upset, but Paul Glick came along. He got her calmed down and then took her to your place.”
“So nice,” she murmured.
“I sent a deputy out to let Eli know you two had been found. Your family will be glad to see you.”
With a half-hour drive, Daniel was able to let her finish her fries and float, and to see young Luke had fallen asleep, before he started questioning her.
“Ja,” she said, “I saw faces, but I didn’t know those men. Two of them, there were. Outsiders. They talked different, not like Englisch here.” She produced descriptions that could have fit half the male Caucasian population between thirty and fifty years old. She had no idea where she had been held, only that it was a bare bedroom with a boarded-up window.
The room had to be pretty bare indeed if it seemed so by Amish standards. They often had nice furniture, but didn’t put up wallpaper or decorations. This bedroom hadn’t been dirty, but wasn’t clean by her exacting standards, either, he gathered from her wrinkled nose. The floors were wood but scratched and scuffed, the old chenille bedspread threadbare.
Twice, she had had to knock and ask for her and Luke to use a bathroom, which had been right beside the bedroom where they were held. Fixtures were clean but stained, linoleum old
and cracked. No window. Yes, she said, it was one of the same men who had taken her from the buggy who escorted her back and forth.
Then she said, “Another man came, maybe an hour after we were locked in that room? All he did was stare at us. Then he left.”
“Can you tell me what he looked like? How old he was?”
“Older than Eli,” she decided. “Your age?”
“I’m thirty-five,” he told her.
“Ja, something like that.” She described the man’s brown hair—much darker than Daniel’s—and brown eyes. He was shorter than her Eli, she was sure, but more muscular. “And mad! Even after he slammed the door, I heard him yelling at the other men. I covered Luke’s ears.” She gave Daniel a perplexed look. “Why was he mad? Why did they do this, if we weren’t what the man wanted?”
So he told her the basics—that a young woman and her son, relatives of a local Amish family, had been hiding here in Henness County from those men. That Anna looked enough like this other woman, and Luke enough like the woman’s son, that they had been abducted by mistake.
“They let us go, at least,” she said, giving a small nod as if satisfied that “those” men had behaved decently in the end. Daniel didn’t have the heart to tell her Rebecca’s threat had bought her release.
Her entire family and likely most of the members of her church district swarmed his vehicle the minute he pulled in. Tears ran down Eli’s cheeks as he enveloped his wife and son in his arms. An older woman who had to be Anna’s mother hugged Daniel and kissed his cheek before saying, “Denke. Denke.”
He wasn’t allowed to leave until he’d had a cup of coffee and a slab of shoofly pie. A huge meal was being laid out as he made his excuses. Enough food to feed a family of ten was thrust on him. Thanking the Lantzes, promising to return the dishes, he finally escaped. At least he wouldn’t have to worry about what he’d feed Rebecca tonight.
* * *
FROM HER POSITION crouched on the floorboard of Daniel’s own SUV, Rebecca heard the garage door rolling down. The lighting dimmed. Wow, she was getting good at this.
“You can get up.” Daniel turned in his seat to watch as she squirmed out from behind his seat. “I wasn’t sure what you’d brought, so I picked up some clothes for you. I’m going to get out and turn my back while you change.” Seeing her surprise, he said, “This is a detached garage. We have to cross the yard to the kitchen door. I don’t want a neighbor or anyone else to catch a glimpse of an Amish woman entering my house.”
“Oh.” She blushed. “No, that would be bad.”
His smile made her tingle. “I’m not trying to protect my reputation. I just don’t want even a hint to get out that you might be here.”
“No. Of course not.”
While she was peeking in the plastic bag he handed over, Daniel got out. Rebecca found he’d bought an airy cotton skirt, a scoop-necked peach T-shirt and flip-flops. Cool, pretty and he’d guessed her sizes perfectly, which was interesting.
She hurried to change, one eye on his broad back, then set the athletic shoes she’d been wearing into the bag, followed by her stockings and the neatly folded dress and apron. On top she laid her kapp. It would feel odd not to wear it. After a moment’s thought, she pulled pins to let her hair down from the distinctly Amish style and dropped them in the bag, too.
When she got out, Daniel surveyed her, a glint in his eyes. “Good” was all he said, but not all he wanted to say, she thought.
She brought her clothes, and he opened the rear hatch to grab her duffel, which he slung over his shoulder, and a large bag filled with plastic containers. Food given in thanks from the Lantz family and friends, he told her.
His lawn, like most this summer, was brown, crackling underfoot, the leaves on two sheltering trees in the yard turning autumn colors. The house was a white two-story with an enclosed back porch. He let them directly into the kitchen, with its aging cabinets painted yellow and a black-and-white checkerboard floor.
“Place could use some work,” he said, glancing around as he set the food on the counter. “I keep telling myself I’ll get to it.”
If he’d bought this house immediately upon returning to Hadburg, he had been here for three years. Remodeling wouldn’t be much of a priority for a single man, though, Rebecca supposed. One whose family probably never came to see him here.
“Let me put the food away,” he continued, “and then I’ll show you your bedroom.”
On their way, she caught glimpses of a living room that held a sofa, recliner, television and not much else, and a dining room. Upstairs, he said, “We’ll have to share a bathroom, since the only other one is a half bath downstairs. There are four bedrooms, but only one of them is set up for guests.” He opened the wood-paneled door and showed her inside.
The room was prettier than she might have expected. The wallpaper, sprays of flowers against a white background, must already have been here when he bought the house. Sheer curtains framed a tall casement window that also had a roller shade. A beautiful old quilt in a churn dash pattern covered the antique wood bed. The other two pieces of furniture were antiques, too: a bedside table and an armoire notable for its simplicity.
Sounding stiff, he said, “There’s no closet, so...” He gestured toward the armoire. “It has some drawers inside. And hangers, too.”
“I don’t have that much.” After a moment, she set her plastic bag on the bed, stroked the quilt, then said, “This is really nice. Thank you.”
He dropped the duffel bag on the bed, too, then retreated to the doorway. Strangely, she was reluctant to face him. Maybe it was knowing they were alone in the house. And that there was a bed, right here.
“My room is just across the hall.” He cleared his throat. “In case you need me during the night.”
She did. But she was afraid of the force of that need. Finally, she turned to see that he hadn’t moved. He was watching her, his eyes darkened to navy.
“You look different,” he said quietly. “Like I imagined you, but...not quite.”
What a strange thing to say. “How you imagined me?”
He shook his head. “It’s disorienting. I knew you weren’t Amish, but seeing you like this...surprises me.”
Did he mean that she looked wrong now? “I appreciate the clothes. I only have a couple other outfits. What I set out with.”
He nodded, his gaze unwavering.
Why was this so awkward? He’d held her, he’d kissed her passionately, and now he was keeping his distance.
Because of the bed, she realized. She wasn’t the only one aware that they were alone in the house, and in a bedroom. He wouldn’t want her to think he had any expectations.
Daniel gave himself a shake. “Take your time. I’ll go see about heating some of that food for dinner.” He backed into the hall, raking her with one last, sweeping, somehow incredulous look before disappearing.
She let out a tiny whimper and sat on the edge of the bed—although she had to hop up to get onto it. Then she pressed a hand to her throat and waited for her racing pulse to slow before she even thought about going downstairs to join him.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
“IT’S PROBABLY OKAY if you watch TV tomorrow,” Daniel told Rebecca as he helped himself to a third piece of corn bread.
She blinked. “What would I watch during the day?”
Truthfully, he had no idea. “CNN? Doesn’t it run news all the time?”
“I don’t know.”
“There are talk shows.” He was sure about that. And soap operas, which he knew about even though he had never watched one. Come to think of it, Rebecca’s life could be used as a script for one. “Keep the volume down. Same for the radio. Just in case somebody comes to the door, we don’t want anyone outside to be able to hear it.”
Her confusion suggeste
d it hadn’t occurred to her to turn on anything electronic. Such habits had been broken in recent weeks, he supposed, if she’d ever adopted them at all.
When he looked at her, he kept seeing double. The frame of her kapp, hiding much of her heavy mass of hair, the plain-colored dress and apron, only hinting at curves. And here she sat now in the knit shirt that clung to her breasts and bared the wings of her collarbone and a creamy chest as well as a hint of cleavage. Even her slim, pale arms looked sexy to him. And she’d found something to tie her hair with, because she’d gathered it into a high ponytail that spilled below her shoulders. She wore a bra now, which was a relief and a disappointment, all at once. After changing in the car, her nipples had poked the thin fabric of the shirt and her breasts had swayed when she moved. Of course, he’d known she didn’t wear one when she was dressed plain, but it hadn’t been so obvious. That first glimpse, when she’d stepped from the car... Daniel hoped she hadn’t noticed the effect she had on him.
Even now, eating at the kitchen table, he found keeping his eyes on her face took increasing effort. Thinking about her safety was the best distraction he could come up with.
“Don’t walk in front of windows.” He frowned, foreseeing problems. “You’d better not lower the shade in your bedroom, even at night. I’m sorry. We can switch rooms, if you want. I wake up early, anyway. I won’t mind the sun coming in.”
Her lips curved. “Me, I’ve been sleeping in until ten or eleven every morning at your aunt and uncle’s.”
He laughed, relaxing. “Right. I suppose Aenti Barbara has you out collecting eggs at six a.m.”
“She does.” Her forehead crinkled. “I worry about her having to keep up with everything, and now taking care of the boys, too.”
Daniel hadn’t thought about it because Amish women were such hard workers. His aunt had raised four children without much help—but she was in her late fifties or even sixty now, and he’d seen that she got to her feet more slowly than she used to, sometimes pressing a hand to her back as if it ached.
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