Plain Danger (Military Investigations)

by Debby Giusti

  A quiver of concern wrapped around her throat. She sat up and listened. Bailey lay at the side of the bed, his breathing deep and labored.

  “Bailey?” She touched the dog, who failed to respond. “Bailey, wake up.”

  Her worry turned to fear when he didn’t move.

  Again she groped her hand across the nightstand. Relief washed over her when her fingers touched her cell phone.

  The screen lit. She found the flashlight app and shone the light on Bailey, yet he failed to rally. She touched his nose. Cool and moist. Was that a true indication of a dog’s health and well-being?

  Searching her phone log, she hit Tyler’s number. Surely he was home by now. The call went to voice mail.

  “It’s Carrie. Something’s wrong. I can’t wake Bailey. And the electricity is off. I was asleep. There must have been a storm. Call me.”

  Stepping around the dog, she padded across the bedroom and opened the door to the upstairs hallway. Peering over the railing, she glanced at the first floor entryway, but saw nothing except the faint outline of furniture below.

  The house was in the country where power outages were probably a norm. Perhaps a faulty generator or a malfunction of some sort. She’d find the number to the electric company in the kitchen phone book and notify them of the problem.

  Again she turned on the flashlight. The light dimmed. As she checked the battery, her heart sank. Her battery needed to be charged. Without electricity, she wouldn’t be able to use her phone.

  She glanced at her phone again. Why hadn’t Tyler returned her call?

  Grabbing the banister, she started down the stairs. A sound made her pause halfway to the first floor.

  Nerve endings on high alert, she turned her head toward the rear of the house. What had she heard?

  The settling sounds of an old house?

  Or something else?

  The sound came again. Like a drawer opening.

  Her neck tingled and her stomach roiled.

  Another creak. A footfall?

  Someone was in the house.

  Heart pounding, she hurried down the stairs and turned toward the kitchen, determined to leave through the back door and run to Tyler’s house.

  If he was home.

  Footfalls sounded in the hallway, coming closer.

  Her chest tightened. Fear strangled her throat and escalated her beating heart.

  No time to flee. She needed to hide. But where? In spite of the darkness, she felt exposed.

  Another creaking floorboard. Close. Too close.

  She ducked behind the sofa and hunched down. Her body trembled, and her heart pounded too loudly.

  A series of footfalls moved into the main room. She held her breath. He grunted, as if more animal than human. Fear clung to her. She wanted to whimper, but any noise would draw his attention.

  Another step, then another.

  He was so close she could smell him.

  Stale beer and sweat.

  Afraid to breathe, she crouched even lower.

  He walked in front of the couch, two feet from where she was hiding. If he went into the kitchen, she’d make a dash for the front door. Could she make it in time? The lower lock would need to be turned and the dead bolt released.

  Grip the knob, twist and pull the door open. Run.

  The Lapps’ house would be the closest. Were they home? Awake? Would they hear her pounding on the front door, and if so, would they come to her aid?

  What about Tyler?

  Tied up with a meeting on post.

  Now or never. She started to rise. Her cell phone trilled. Glancing down, she saw Tyler’s name on caller ID.

  The intruder turned, lunged. His hand caught her shoulder.

  She screamed and fumbled with her phone, trying to answer the call.

  “Carrie?” Tyler’s voice.

  The intruder knocked the cell from her hand.

  “No!” she screamed.

  He grabbed her hair and jerked her head back. She thrashed her hands to strike him.

  He raised his hand and slapped her across the face. She reeled and crashed against the wall. Air whooshed from her lungs.

  Groaning, she crumbled onto the floor and crawled away from him, sobbing with fear.

  He kicked her in the ribs.

  She moaned, rolled into a ball. He kicked again.

  Knowing she had to fight back, she grabbed his shoe and twisted his foot. He fell against the couch.

  Scrambling to her feet, she ran. He followed, his footfalls heavy on the hardwoods.

  Unsure of herself, Carrie took the corner to the kitchen too fast. Her feet slipped, slowing her down.

  His hand clamped down on her arm. He threw her against the doorjamb. The hinge dug into her back.

  “Oh!” she gasped, then ran forward. On the counter was a knife that she had used earlier to slice the chicken.

  Grabbing the handle, she turned and raised the blade.

  He caught her hand in a death grip and tightened his hold, bringing tears to her eyes and making her legs weaken. She sank to one knee, fighting to keep hold of the knife that was raised precariously over her head.

  She...didn’t...have...the...strength...

  He twisted her arm.

  She screamed in pain.

  The knife dropped. She shoved it across the floor before he could stoop to retrieve it, then struck him in the face.

  He growled and went for her neck. She backed against the counter. His grip tightened. She couldn’t breathe and gasped for air.

  Tyler!

  She had to open the door and scream for help.

  Tyler would save her.

  But hands tightened on her throat, and her lungs burned like fire.

  She couldn’t scream, she couldn’t move, she couldn’t see and as she slipped into another place, she realized she wouldn’t live to breathe again.

  * * *

  Irritated that the CID meeting had taken so long, Tyler increased his speed after leaving Fort Rickman. Glancing at his phone resting on the console, he debated calling Carrie, then checked the clock on the dashboard. Ten o’clock. Too late.

  Carrie was tired and probably in bed sound asleep. The last thing he wanted was to wake her. They’d talk tomorrow.

  But he couldn’t stop himself from reaching for his phone. Using his one hand, he punched in his security code and swiped to access his screen.

  A new voice mail.

  Concern swept over him. He’d turned his phone to vibrate during the meeting and placed it in front of him on the conference table, yet he had missed the incoming call.

  Tyler touched the prompt and raised the phone to his ear.

  “Something’s wrong with Bailey... The lights are out.”

  His pulse raced. He pressed down on the accelerator and pushed Call.

  She answered, but what he heard sent chills through his heart.

  Carrie’s scream, along with the sounds of a scuffle or worse.

  He tossed the cell aside, gripped the steering wheel and raced through town. He had to get to Carrie.

  Never had the drive seemed so long or the road so winding.

  He breathed with relief when he reached Amish Road, but his heart stopped when he saw the Harris home in the distance, standing dark against the night. He screeched into the driveway and jumped from the car, his weapon raised and at the ready.

  Pounding on the front door, he screamed her name. Circling the house, he saw the French doors open and a man, running into the woods. Much as he wanted to pursue the intruder, he had to find Carrie.

  “Carrie!” He tried the light switch that didn’t work and raced into the main part of the house.

  The sound of the dog’s footfalls came from overhead. “Bailey, come. Where’s Carrie?”

  The dog failed to appear, which added to his concern. Tyler ran from room to room, fearing the intruder had harmed Carrie and her faithful pet.

  Entering the kitchen, he stopped short seeing her on the floor. He knelt
beside her and touched her neck. Relief swept over him when he felt a pulse.

  Hurriedly he called 911. “Emergency. Medical help needed now.”

  After providing the necessary information, he disconnected and rubbed his hand lightly over Carrie’s cheek, seeing the welt and marks from the assailant’s hand. A cut on her lip was oozing blood, along with a scrape to her forehead and another to her hand.

  She moaned. A good sign.

  “Carrie, it’s Tyler. I’m here. The intruder’s gone. You’re safe with me. Open your eyes. Talk to me.”

  She moved her hand.

  “I know you’re in pain. The ambulance will arrive soon. You’ll get medical care, but you need to let me know you can hear me. Open your eyes, Carrie. I need to see your eyes.”

  Her eyelids fluttered.

  “That’s right, hon. Open your eyes.”

  He gripped her hand, relieved when she squeezed his fingers. “I know you can hear me.”

  “Ty—”

  “Good job. I’m right here. Open your eyes.”

  Again, her eyelids fluttered, then opened for a second before closing again. He lit a candle and placed it on the counter.

  “Try again,” he encouraged.

  Her eyes opened ever so slightly. He smiled. “I see you.”

  Her lips twitched as if she wanted to smile.

  He patted her hand. “I’m going to check your pupils.”

  Gently he pulled back the eyelid on her right eye and then the left one. The pupil and iris looked normal. No severe dilation. Hopefully that meant no concussion.

  At least that was in her favor.

  Sirens sounded in the distance.

  Footsteps on the front porch. Someone pounded on the door.

  Carrie’s face twisted with fear.

  “I’ll check it out. It’s not the assailant. I saw him running into the woods. I’ll be right back.”

  More pounding.

  Tyler raced into the foyer, peered through the window and was relieved to see Isaac.

  “Carrie has been hurt,” he said as he opened the door. “An ambulance is on the way.”

  “I saw your car. The door was open, and the lights were on. I knew something had happened.”

  “Someone broke in and attacked Carrie.”

  Isaac’s face clouded. “They hurt her?”

  “I’m afraid so. She was unconscious when I arrived, but she opened her eyes and tried to let me know she could hear me.”

  The two men hurried to the kitchen.

  Tyler bent down next to Carrie. “Isaac is here. The ambulance is close. Hang on.”

  She nodded, almost imperceptibly.

  “Did you see your attacker?”

  She shook her head. “Mask.”

  “He wore a mask over his face?”

  She nodded.

  Flashing lights invaded the kitchen.

  The sound of car doors and men climbing the front steps. Isaac hurried into the foyer and pointed them to the kitchen.

  Tyler stepped aside as the EMTs entered, hauling medical bags and a stretcher. He quickly filled them in on what he knew.

  “An intruder. Looks like Ms. York was beaten. He ran from the house as I pulled into the driveway.”

  Knowing Carrie was in good hands, he stepped into the foyer and met Officer Phillips there.

  “Did you see the perpetrator?” the cop asked.

  “Only as he was running into the woods,” Tyler said with regret. “I could have chased him, but I was worried about Carrie and rightfully so. He wore a mask and messed her up pretty badly.”

  “What happened to the power?”

  “He must have cut the line.” Tyler thought suddenly of Bailey. “And tranquilized the dog.”

  Borrowing a flashlight from one of the officers, Tyler headed upstairs and found Bailey lying in the hallway. He appeared sleepy but otherwise all right, which was a relief. If the perpetrator had given the dog a sedative, it had been short-lived.

  Tyler checked the bedrooms and saw the aged journal on the nightstand near the bed where Carrie had been sleeping. Had she heard a noise and gone downstairs to check it out?

  Returning to the hallway, he patted his leg. “Come on, Bailey. Let’s have the medics look you over after they finish with Carrie.”

  The dog slowly rose and padded after Tyler, who kept his hand on his collar in case Bailey’s legs buckled under him. Thankfully the dog went down the stairs without any problems. He trotted into the kitchen, whined at the cluster of people around Carrie and wiggled his way to her side.

  Her hand rubbed against his fur. “Are you okay?” she managed to ask.

  He wagged his tail.

  “Looks like the dog may have been given something that knocked him out,” Tyler told one of the medics who took Bailey aside and examined him.

  “He seems okay, sir. His eyes are clear. His reflexes are good.”

  “What about Ms. York?”

  “We’re taking her to the hospital in Freemont. The doc may order a CT scan. Her vitals are good, but she’s got a knot on her head, a bruised cheek and what may be a couple broken ribs.”

  “I’ll follow in my car.”

  He found Isaac. “I’m going to the hospital with Carrie. Would you stay here with the police?”

  “Of course. Tell Carrie we are praying for her recovery.”

  “Thanks, Isaac. She needs prayers.”

  Phillips motioned for Tyler to follow him to the rear of the house. “Check out the sunporch. Looks like your intruder was looking for something.”

  Tyler hadn’t noticed the chaos earlier when his thoughts were on finding Carrie. Now he saw the scattered papers and books and other memorabilia tossed about the room.

  “Wonder if he found what he came searching for,” Tyler mused.

  “No telling.” Phillips picked up an old plat of the property that had fallen out of a manila envelope. “Did you see this?”

  After stepping closer, Tyler studied the plat. “It’s of the Harris property.”

  Opening the drawer on the desk, he was relieved to find the photograph of Carrie still in place.

  “Something important?” the officer asked.

  “One of Carrie’s baby pictures.”

  “What about the journal the firemen found the other night?”

  “It’s upstairs in one of the bedrooms,” Tyler said. “I wonder if that’s what the guy was looking for. She probably came downstairs never expecting someone was in the house.”

  The cop flashed his light over the porch door. “Looks like he got in through the French doors.”

  “And Bailey wouldn’t have heard because he was drugged, which meant the guy had to have been in the area earlier. Carrie had planned to sit outside and let Bailey play. He may have found something edible laced with sleeping medication.”

  Returning to the living area, Tyler approached Isaac. “Did you see anyone hanging around the house today?”

  “The boy who fed the chickens. Matthew Schrock came with him.”

  “Anyone else?”

  “Not that I saw.”

  Phillips signaled to Tyler. “The EMTs are ready to transport her.”

  “I’ll follow the ambulance. Isaac Lapp will stay in the house until your folks are ready to leave.”

  Tyler hurried to his car in time to pull behind the ambulance as it raced back to town.

  In the rearview mirror, he could see the flashing lights of the police sedans for miles. The strobe effect added a chilling reality to the dark night.

  Someone was after Carrie. He—or she—had almost killed Carrie tonight. Tyler hadn’t been there, which frustrated him.

  As a boy he’d wanted to help his father, but he’d been unable to save him. The reason he went into law enforcement had been to help people in need. Carrie was in need, and Tyler had been worried about her security, yet he hadn’t been able to protect her.

  What did that say about his ability?

  As the Amish said, he was dummkopf
. Stupid. Not worthy of wearing the uniform and not able to keep Carrie safe.

  FIFTEEN

  Carrie didn’t like hospitals, especially when she was the patient. The emergency room doctor was thorough in his evaluation and had ordered a CT scan to ensure that her injuries weren’t life threatening.

  Much as Carrie’s body ached, she was all right. A few scrapes and bruises, a sore rib and a pounding headache that made her grit her teeth and clench her fists, but she would survive.

  Thanks to Tyler.

  She peered out the door of the examination room when the doctor left and smiled when she saw Tyler standing in the hallway.

  He stepped closer. “Do you want company?”

  “That sounds good, although I’m not much for conversation at this point. My head’s throbbing, and I keep telling myself that I should have been smarter. How’s Bailey?”

  “Doing fine, the last I saw him. Isaac stayed at the house to watch over everything. The doc will let you go home as soon as the blood test results are back.”

  “What happened to the electricity?”

  “The guy cut the line coming into the house.”

  “He wanted me in the dark.”

  “Your dad’s office papers were scattered about. He may have been looking for the diary.”

  She nodded. “It was upstairs in the guest bedroom.”

  “When I pulled into your driveway, he must have exited through your dad’s office.”

  “Good riddance.”

  “Exactly, but we need to find out who it was and why he was there.”

  “Land or treasure would be my two guesses,” Carrie said through half-closed eyes.

  “He may have been after you.”

  Carrie kept thinking of Tyler’s comment as he drove her home. Had the intruder entered the house to do her harm? If she hadn’t gone downstairs, would he have climbed to the second floor and attacked her there?

  She shivered thinking of what could have been on his mind. Biting her lip, she blinked back tears as the memory of his vicious blows swept over her again.

  Tyler touched her arm and worked his hand to hers. His fingers tightened as if he read her mind and wanted to comfort her. “You’ve been through a lot, Carrie.”

  “All my life, I longed to know about my father. I never expected information about him to come with such a high price.”