Lancaster County Target

by Kit Wilkinson

  “Abby’s been in a car accident,” Blake called to Eli as he stepped out of his SUV.

  Eli dropped what he was doing and ran over. “Where is she?”

  “Here.” Blake motioned to his backseat. “I was wondering if you’d help me take her inside.”

  “Ja, of course. Or does she need to go to the hospital? She is so pale.”

  Blake looked over Abby again. He crouched down to lift her from his car. She stirred slightly for the first time, her eyelids fluttering. “I think she’s coming to. If you’ll allow me, I could examine her inside and we can make her comfortable. There is nothing broken that I can tell. And if the head swelling looks okay and she isn’t bleeding too badly, I think the hospital can wait. It might be more dangerous driving in the storm.”

  Eli nodded. “Where was the accident?”

  “Just in front of your drive. On the main road. Looked like another vehicle forced her off the road. We need to call Chief McClendon. There should be an investigation.”

  “And you were behind her?” Eli kept his eyes glued to his sister as Blake made his way with her across the porch and into the living room.

  “No.” Blake kneeled as he laid Abby carefully on the couch. He placed a pillow under her head and looked over her head wound again. He didn’t want to tell Eli that he’d let her drive alone. If only she would wake up... “I need to wash my hands. Do you have better lighting?”

  “Not really. With an oil-powered generator, which is the only power source allowed, we tend to use low-wattage bulbs. I can get a strong flashlight. We use those instead of the dangerous lanterns.”

  “What about ice? An ice pack would be good for her.”

  Eli pointed to the kitchen. “You can wash your hands there, as well. I’ll stay with her and get the flashlight when you come back...but, Blake, I thought the two of you were together. I thought you weren’t going to leave her alone.”

  “I had a meeting, so I let Abby drive over here by herself.” Blake explained exactly what had happened. “I wasn’t thinking.”

  Eli touched Blake’s shoulder in a brotherly way, but Blake could feel Eli’s anger. He admired the man’s ability to control his first reaction. Whether it was an Amish trait or just unique to Eli, it was something he needed to work on for himself.

  “We will discuss this later,” Eli said.

  Blake nodded and handed him his cell phone. “You should also know that someone took a shot at me while I was in Millersville. When McClendon arrives, I’ll fill you in on the details. I think your sister needs protection.”

  “Sounds like you both do,” Eli said as he took the phone. Blake headed to the kitchen to clean his hands and get ice and try to calm his rattled nerves.

  * * *

  “I hit my head two days in a row? I can’t believe it.” Abby tried to sit up but immediately gave up the idea as a debilitating wave of pain traveled from her temples to the back of her skull and around again. “Ugh. Okay, I believe it.”

  “You should have taken some of the Motrin the doctor tried to give you.” Hannah fluffed up the pillows behind her.

  “Doctor?” She glanced at Eli, who’d been talking to her for the past twenty minutes, helping her remember the car accident with the big black sedan in the snow. “I thought that was Chief McClendon here with you.”

  “McClendon is here and your friend Dr. Jamison,” Eli said. “Blake’s the one who found your car in the ditch. You were unconscious. He brought you up to the house. He and the chief are outside at the end of the drive now, looking at the damage to your car.”

  “Here, have some of this tea you’re always making us drink.” Hannah passed her a warm mug.

  “I had the strangest dream.” Abby wrapped her hands around the cup, lifting the strong, familiar brew to her lips.

  “I guess that’s normal after a concussion. Was it about the accident?” Hannah asked.

  “No, it was about flowers and—” Blake “—and...the man who attacked me.”

  “Do you think the man driving the car was the man who attacked you? The man from the hospital?”

  “I don’t know. I couldn’t really see inside the car. Plus, I was mostly concentrating on trying to stay on the road.... So, what was Blake doing out here? I thought he was going to talk to some lawyer and then head back to the bed-and-breakfast.”

  “He did go to the lawyer’s,” Eli said. “And someone shot at him. So he came racing over here to make sure you were safe.”

  “What? Someone shot at him? As in, with a gun?” Abby’s eyes went wide. “Is he okay?”

  “Let her rest, Eli. She’s tired and you’re getting her all excited,” Hannah said. “I’ve made enough food for everyone. We can talk about everything that’s happened at dinner.”

  Abby didn’t like the way Eli and Hannah were coddling her and she really didn’t like the way they talked about Blake, almost as if he was a family member. Good grief. They hardly knew him. And maybe it had taken getting her head hit again but she’d decided that she didn’t want to know him. She didn’t like the weird way she felt around him. She didn’t like that she’d gotten a little bit excited when Eli had said Blake had come to check on her. And she really didn’t like when his phone rang and the display showed that beautiful women were calling him. Why did she even care about any of this? She shouldn’t—it was as simple as that.

  “Well, is he okay? You can at least tell me that....”

  Not that she cared...much.

  “He’s fine.”

  Heavy footfalls sounded on the front porch. Eli went to the front door to let Blake and the chief back into the house. Abby wanted to blend away into the sofa cushions. She could only imagine how awful she must look after being in another accident. There was blood on her sweater. Her hair had fallen out of the tight braid and she ached from head to toe. She wanted quiet. She wanted safety. She wanted to go back to her life before Blake Jamison.

  But despite her thoughts, McClendon and Blake tromped into the living room looking half-frozen as they brushed away the snow from their pant legs. Blake carried her overnight bag in his arms. “Here you go. Thought you might be needing this. I couldn’t help noticing your laptop is in there. Do you have internet here? Does Hannah allow that?”

  He smiled as he looked at her with his soft brown eyes. Ugh. She didn’t want to smile back at him, but he made it pretty hard. It was difficult to will yourself not to like someone that you were naturally drawn to—and no matter how she sliced it, she was naturally attracted to Blake Jamison.

  “No internet here. I have a wireless plan. An AirCard.” She put a finger over her lips to indicate it was her secret from Hannah.

  But Hannah had overheard. She shook her head in disapproval before offering dinner to everyone.

  McClendon declined. “Thank you, but I’ll have to be going. Lots of work for the police on a snowy day. Speaking of which, the tow truck will not be coming until tomorrow. He’s got other jobs that can’t wait. I hope you don’t mind that I told him that this one could.”

  “Not at all.” Abby forced herself into a sitting position, shutting her eyes against the excruciating pain in her head. “I don’t think I’ll be going anywhere anytime soon.”

  Blake mumbled something about not letting her go anywhere, then turned to Eli. “I don’t want to impose, but I think I should stay to keep an eye on your sister tonight. After two blows to the head, there could be complications.”

  Eli gave a quick nod. “You’re welcome to stay. Actually, in light of this unexpected storm, I could use your help getting the animals into the barn.”

  “Animals? Right. Of course. Be happy to help. Just need to call the Youngers at the bed-and-breakfast and let them know I’ll be staying here.” He pulled out his cell phone and followed Hannah and Eli into the kitchen, leaving Abby alone with the chie
f.

  McClendon sat on a small wooden stool close to the sofa. “Are you up for giving me a quick statement?”

  Abby gave a slight nod and recounted the accident. “Unlike yesterday, I remember it perfectly, right up until the moment the air bags inflated.”

  “Did you get a license number?”

  “No. He was always behind me.”

  “Could you describe the driver?”

  She shook her head. “Tinted windows and it was snowing. Plus, I was keeping my eyes on the road.”

  McClendon showed some dissatisfaction with her response. “There’s something I don’t quite get.”

  “What’s that?”

  “If you came straight from your house to your brother’s after Dr. Jamison left for Millersville, then how is it that your car engine was still warm when he found you after going there and all the way back?”

  “I didn’t come straight here.” Abby looked directly at the chief. “I made some phone calls first and saw to my animals.”

  “Miss Miller, I hardly need remind you that you were attacked inside the hospital yesterday. I thought you understood not to—”

  “I’m not sure it would have made a difference. Someone shot at Blake. Seems like whoever it is can find us wherever we go—and whenever we go.”

  “What do you know about the shooting?”

  “Nothing except that it happened, and Blake is fine. Aside from that, no one told me a thing.”

  “Not much to tell you,” Blake said from the doorway. Apparently, he’d been listening in on their conversation. His voice gave her a start. “I went back to Linton’s office. It had been cleared out since this morning. Not even a scrap of paper left behind. I turned around and a shot was fired just to the side of me. I thought of you and how if someone was attacking me, they might go after you next. I couldn’t believe I’d listened to you and left you alone. I jumped back into the car and raced over. A little too late. I should have never left you at the clinic.”

  “I didn’t give you much choice,” Abby said.

  “Ach. The truth.” Eli reentered the living space, too. He shook his head at her, mocking her stubborn ways. “Come on, Blake. Need to get the babies inside.”

  “Babies?”

  “Calves. Lambs, too.”

  “Ah.”

  They were dressed for the snow, ready to tackle the evening chores. Abby wondered how Blake would manage. It was clear by the expression on his face that tending to animals was not something he was used to.

  “So, Blake,” Abby said as he and her brother headed to the front door, “since you’ve been shot at, what do you think about your involvement now? Still think it’s all coincidence?”

  Blake looked to McClendon. Perhaps they’d had a similar conversation outside.

  He paused, then let out a long sigh. “It still doesn’t fit together. It’s hard to imagine that I brought this mess here. But I’ve never believed in coincidence.”

  Abby tried to nod, but her head wouldn’t move as Blake’s eyes seemed to have a fast hold on her. He stepped back into the room again.

  “You should know, too, that I tried to call Dr. Granger on my way to Linton’s office to ask him about transferring Hancock. His administrative assistant told me that he’s been out of the country for the week. So there’s no way he transferred Hancock. His name was probably put into Hancock’s medical file the same way mine was—and I don’t think any of us believe that was a coincidence.”

  Blake shook his head. “I still don’t understand how any of it connects to my adoption or my choice to come here to look for my birth parents. Especially since, as I told you, no one knows about that except for you. And why would anyone kill over an adoption? So that makes me think of my parents’ deaths and the inheritance. Then again, it could be none of those things.”

  “We are working on all those angles, Dr. Jamison.” McClendon stood from the stool and walked toward the two men, though he continued to face Abby. “A killer is after both of you. Probably the very one who killed Hancock. It’s pretty likely he spotted you and the doctor at the hospital, followed you home and then here. And from the shooting and the timing of the car attack, it seems that there must be another person involved.”

  “And don’t forget that one of them speaks Pennsylvania Dutch,” Abby said.

  McClendon nodded. “The FBI is considering all of this.”

  “The FBI?” Blake repeated.

  “Sure. We have to involve the FBI—they are trying to identify Hancock. Taking fingerprints and running them as we speak.”

  Eli checked the clock on the wall and cleared his throat. “Night is coming. I’ve got to get out to the animals. McClendon, please keep us informed.”

  The chief nodded as Blake and Eli left the house. Then McClendon’s face darkened and he straightened up and folded his arms over his chest. He lowered his voice. “Miss Miller, how well do you know Dr. Jamison?”

  Abby swallowed hard and sank down into the plush cushions. “I don’t. I don’t know him at all. I just woke up in the E.R. yesterday and there he was. But since then, he’s been very kind—even helping me tidy up my clinic. Why? Should I be concerned?”

  McClendon looked toward the back of the house where the others had gone as if to ensure he had privacy to speak. “On a professional level? No. He’s got an impeccable record as a doctor, a student. He’s been to all the best schools, has worked in top hospitals—on paper, he’s...he’s flawless. On a personal level I guess that makes me a little nervous. I’ve known you and your brother for a long time. I just...well, I thought maybe I saw something there between the two of you. I just want you to be cautious.”

  Something between the two of them? Abby could feel her face heating up like wildfire. Was it that obvious that she was a little bit attracted to him? Goodness. She was going to have to put on a better game face. She swallowed hard and willed away her blushing cheeks. “You think he brought this mess down here to Willow Trace, don’t you?”

  “I do. But...I also believe him when he says he doesn’t know what’s going on. Though I’ve been wrong before so... Anyway, I’m going to be checking all his connections, both personal and professional, on a deeper level. I’ll let you know if I see any red flags. Just be more careful. Okay? No more driving alone.”

  “Of course. You’re right.”

  “Good night, Miss Miller.” He headed for the door. “Get some rest and know that I’ll have a patrol car circling by.”

  “Eli won’t like that. He still thinks he’s a detective.”

  “Take care of yourself, Miss Miller. I’ll check on you in the morning.” He left through the front door. Abby heard the sound of his truck starting up and driving away.

  With all the men out of the house and Hannah still in the kitchen, Abby slid down into the couch, closing her eyes. Her head ached terribly. Sleepiness must have fogged her thoughts because as she reviewed her conversation with McClendon, it was as if he’d been telling her not to get personally involved with Blake. She’d already decided that herself, and yet the chief’s mention of doing more searches struck a chord. She really didn’t know much about Blake at all. What harm would it do for her to run a few searches herself?

  Abby thought about her laptop. It was sitting there a few feet away, waiting for her to look up Dr. Blake Jamison.

  And while she was at it, she might look up a few other things, too.

  TEN

  Another twenty-minute nap and a good dose of her own healing tea and Abby felt like a new woman. She managed to get herself up from the couch, go upstairs and change out of her bloody clothing, then sit back down with her laptop. Her heart beat hard and steady as she connected to the internet with her AirCard and opened up the browser, unsure how much time she might have before the men returned or before Hannah guilted her into pu
tting the computer away.

  First, she typed in Blake Jamison, Doctor, New York City. Pages of links popped up—his practice, his doctors’ associations, awards, special programs, the foundation and charities he’d mentioned, then articles and articles and articles about Blake, his parents and more. Abby couldn’t believe it. Blake was a New York socialite. Like royalty, his whole life was online—photographed and documented by glossy, high-end, who’s-who magazines. Abby didn’t know where to start reading.

  As quickly as she could, Abby skimmed articles about Blake’s parents, their charities and huge fancy events. She knew his family was wealthy, but not to this extent.

  Blake was the CEO and director of many of these organizations. Some of the articles spoke of his travels around the world to help the needy. On and on, Abby grew dizzy trying to take it all in. No wonder so many people were calling him. He was a big deal. And now she knew why McClendon, like her father, had warned her to be cautious.

  She also knew that despite what she’d been telling herself, she did like the doctor. She liked him a lot.

  Because if she didn’t, seeing this whole other life of his wouldn’t have made her feel so hopeless.

  After all the charity-event links, Abby saw a page of Google images of Blake. Wow. There was one of him on a yacht. Another showed him shushing down ski slopes. Helping needy children in third-world countries. At a ribbon-cutting ceremony for the opening of a new clinic for the underprivileged. Although this discovery made her aware of the great differences in their social standing, seeing Blake at work and play and knowing how modest he’d been about it all only made him more attractive. Go figure. Abby sighed.

  Her cursor stopped over an image of him in a gorgeous tux. In the photo, he was stepping out of a stretch limousine with a beautiful brunette wrapped around his arm—the same lovely woman who had called him at lunch. The caption read “Uptown power couple Blake Jamison and Natalie Jenkins. Sources say he has already been to Tiffany’s and is just waiting for the perfect setting to pop the big question.”