Plain Outsider

by Alison Stone

  A tenet of the Amish faith was forgiveness. Becky understood this because she grew up with it. Love your enemies. Leave vengeance in the hands of God. Whenever a tragedy struck the Amish community, their ability to readily forgive their transgressor often made the national news alongside the crime itself. Forgiveness was their duty.

  Becky gave her friend a quick nod, acknowledging she had heard her, but she wasn’t willing to comment. What could she say? Was her community ready to forgive her for leaving the Amish? Or did Amy think Becky needed forgiveness for hurting one of their own?

  SEVEN

  Later that day, Harrison parked his truck in Becky’s driveway and crossed the yard to the front porch. The grass, dry from a long stretch of no rain, crunched under his footsteps. He had run home just long enough to change his clothes after his shift. He could have called Becky, checked on her over the phone, but if he was being honest with himself, he wanted to see her in person. Make sure she was doing all right. She seemed defeated after the visit from the sheriff last night. As if her chances of returning to work anytime soon were slim to none.

  Harrison jogged up the steps and decided he’d act casual, pretend he wasn’t genuinely concerned with her state of mind.

  If only I had checked on my brother.

  If only I had listened to my gut instead of my pride.

  Harrison was determined to be there for Becky, but since they were simply working acquaintances, he’d have to be subtle. He could claim he was in the neighborhood. Tell her in person about the appointment he had set up with his lawyer friend in Buffalo. He laughed to himself. No way was anyone ever “in the neighborhood” when you lived out in the sticks.

  Harrison plucked at his shirt, wondering if this heat spell would snap anytime soon. He lifted his hand and did a quick little knock, sounding out a rhythm. Really casual. Deep within the house he heard Chewie barking. He turned and studied the road from the vantage point of the front porch. Heat rose from the pavement, but a nice breeze whispered through the leaves in the trees surrounding the property. It was peaceful out here. Quiet.

  He turned back toward the house, listening for footsteps, something to indicate Becky was coming to the door. Nothing. A small knot formed in his gut.

  Where is she?

  Her car was in the shop. She couldn’t be far. He jogged down the porch steps and walked around the property, hoping he’d find her outside even though he had warned her that staying inside was safer.

  The sudden stillness made the fine hairs on the back of his neck stand on edge. He scanned the house and property. His attention stopped at the tree line, the heavy shadows mocking him. He wondered if the sheriff had made any progress in investigating the young men conducting target practice yesterday. Harrison had taken the liberty to use their identification to look up each of the men in the system. None of them had records. Maybe it had been an accident. Maybe one of them, for whatever reason, had been reluctant to produce the gun used during the wayward shot. Maybe that was the reason. Nothing more. Who’s going to admit to being reckless? They could face charges.

  Harrison climbed the two steps to the back door and knocked. Chewie barked wildly, his nails scraping against the door. Harrison cupped his hand on the glass on the back door and through the gauzy sheer curtain he could see the dog’s tail wagging wildly. “Hey, buddy,” Harrison said, “where’s Becky?”

  The interior door from the kitchen to the mudroom was closed. Had she gone out somewhere and put Chewie in the mudroom for safekeeping?

  A new thought crept into his subconscious. He stepped away from the glass and took a deep breath.

  He had gone to his brother’s home under the guise of a wellness check. He pounded on the door. No answer.

  Just like now.

  Harrison tilted his head from side to side, trying to ease out the tightening between his shoulder blades.

  He had been called out to Officer Sebastian James’s home because everyone knew they were brothers. “Thought you’d want to know. He didn’t show up for his shift,” dispatch had told him in a somber tone as if they already suspected the worst.

  Part of him wanted to tell her Seb wasn’t his problem anymore. That once Seb chose drugs over job, over family, he was on his own. Harrison no longer wanted to hear the constant barrage of questions.

  “How’s Seb doing?”

  “Glad to hear he got through rehab and got his job back. This drug epidemic is out of control. Sorry your brother got wrapped up in it. Looks like that’s all behind him now.”

  Wrapped up in it? As if his brother hadn’t slid that first needle into his arm. As if it wasn’t a choice.

  But his brother had sworn he was done with it. Drugs were in his past.

  Harrison clenched his jaw as he jogged down the porch steps and around to the front of the house, trying to dismiss the images that haunted him.

  Seb, his little brother, slumped against the bathroom wall with a needle in his arm. His eyes staring absently at the pink tile of their childhood bathroom. Where Seb used to have to use a stool to reach the sink to brush his teeth.

  The hot sun beat down on Harrison’s head. He scratched his eyebrow and paced the gravel driveway, wishing Becky would answer the door.

  How did anyone move past this kind of tragedy?

  He let out a long, slow breath, trying to calm his rioting emotions. Everyone wanted to know why he left Buffalo to be a cop in Quail Hollow, some small town in the middle of nowhere.

  This was why.

  He thought distance would ease the pain. Make him forget. He suspected some of his friends knew the reasons, but he never talked about them. Working among the deputies in Quail Hollow who didn’t know his backstory was easier than constantly seeing the sympathy in his fellow officers’ eyes.

  Harrison had come to a lot of conclusions since his brother’s untimely death. People made choices, sometimes with disastrous consequences.

  Some people stood by their family and friends no matter what. Harrison was ashamed to acknowledge he wasn’t one of those people. Now he had to live with the guilt.

  Life isn’t black-and-white.

  If he had listened to Seb when he first came to him. If he hadn’t enacted tough love when it came to his brother, would he still be alive?

  Harrison second-guessed himself every step of the way until he finally had to walk away from a job and a home he shared with his brother.

  Until he found himself in Quail Hollow on the porch of a rookie deputy, worried that perhaps she had succumbed to the pressure. Found an escape.

  That’s Seb. Not Becky.

  A trickle of sweat rolled down his forehead and a weight pressed on his chest. From the short time he had grown to know her, he sensed she had no one to rely on. As it was, she was straddling two worlds. Neither were welcoming.

  Nothing would change until she cleared her name.

  “Don’t leap from point A to Z, buddy,” he muttered to himself, realizing he was letting his past experiences get the best of him.

  He strode to his truck for his cell phone. One quick call and he’d know where Becky was. Dilemma solved.

  As he stood with the truck door open, he heard a car approaching. He hadn’t realized he’d been holding his breath until the car slowed and turned into the driveway.

  Becky.

  She climbed out and angled her head, a look of surprise widening her eyes. “Did I forgot you were coming?”

  “No, not at all.” He was finally able to breathe. “I stopped by after my shift.” He held out his hand, trying to act casual. “You got your car back.”

  Becky patted the roof. “Yes, they dropped it off this morning. Feels good to have wheels again.”

  “That’s great.” If he had known, he wouldn’t have conjured up the worst-case scenario. Perhaps he had further to go in his recovery than he thought if his mind w
ent spiraling out of control at the first sign of trouble.

  The gravel crunched under her sneakers as she walked past him toward the front door. “Want to come in? Get something to drink? I can’t believe how hot it is outside.” Her cheeriness seemed forced.

  Harrison followed her through the house and into the kitchen. She opened the mudroom door and Chewie leaped out as if sprung from prison. She playfully rubbed his head, then went to the fridge. “Iced tea?”

  “Sounds great.”

  She filled two glasses and handed him one, seeming to study him with a watchful gaze. Then suddenly, she looked away and snatched the leash off the hook. Chewie ran over to her, eager to go outside. “I need to let the dog out.”

  Drink in hand, he followed her to the back porch. She let the lead out so the dog had a lot of space to wander without getting away. She leaned a hip on the railing. “I should consider getting a fence, if I’m going to keep Chewie. Or I suppose I should approach my parents to see if Mag can keep him.”

  “I sense you’re reluctant to talk to your parents.”

  “That’s a story for another day.” She rested an elbow on the railing. “Is there a reason you stopped by?”

  “I made an appointment with a lawyer in Buffalo for you.”

  She worked her lip and he fully expected her to refuse or at least be evasive, but she looked up at him with resolve in her eyes. “Okay.”

  Harrison scratched his jaw. “Why the change of heart?”

  She laughed. “Didn’t you tell me I needed a lawyer?”

  “Yeah, but, I figured you’d push back.”

  Becky plopped down on the back steps and Chewie bounded over, nuzzling her thigh. Harrison sat on the step, one above hers.

  Becky threaded the slack leash through her fingers. “I have to do something or I’ll go stir-crazy here.” She flicked him a quick glance over her shoulder, then turned her attention back to Chewie, who was sniffing around a tree trunk. “I stopped by the farm next to where Elijah Lapp was beaten.”

  Harrison clenched his jaw. “You shouldn’t have...”

  “My friend, my former friend, Amy Miller, lives there.”

  “I didn’t realize that.” Harrison watched her bend and twist the leash.

  “I’m tired of waiting to get my job back. I had hoped Amy would vouch for my character. Perhaps she had witnessed the events of that day.” There was a faraway quality to her voice. “She knows the real me. I’d never hurt anyone. But she’s not going to help me. Her desire to stay separate and punish me for leaving the Amish is stronger than our friendship ever was.” There was a brittleness to her voice.

  “Perhaps she didn’t see anything. Maybe you’re reading too much into it.” He tried to reassure her.

  “She believes she’s doing what she needs to do because they love me and want me to come back.”

  Hadn’t Harrison felt the same way about his brother? If he sees how angry I am, he’ll stop. If he knows I won’t be there for him, he’ll make recovery stick.

  Becky absentmindedly fluffed the fur around Chewie’s snout. “Unless I want to lose everything I worked for, I need to help myself. And if that means hiring a lawyer...” She pushed off the steps and turned to face him, swiping the back of her shorts. “What time is the appointment?”

  * * *

  The next day, Becky met with the lawyer for forty-five minutes and his reassuring nature allowed some of the tension to ease from her shoulders. Maybe she wasn’t alone in this. She had rights and this lawyer would fight for them. For the first time since Elijah ended up in the hospital, she felt like she had a plan. Felt like she was being proactive and not waiting for someone to make a decision on her behalf.

  The lawyer opened his office door and Harrison quickly stood. He had used his day off to drive her to Buffalo and then sit patiently in the waiting room. He looked handsome in khaki pants and a navy golf shirt. She still couldn’t figure out why he insisted on being so helpful, but she appreciated it.

  “Everything okay?” he asked.

  “It’s good to know I’ll have someone pushing for reinstatement on my behalf.” Becky glanced at the lawyer.

  “I’ll do some digging and we’ll get moving on this.” The lawyer shook her hand, then Harrison’s. “Meanwhile, you have my phone number if you need me, Deputy Spoth.”

  Becky drew in a deep breath. How strange that she had grown up on a small farm in Quail Hollow and now she had business in a law firm in a glass skyscraper in Buffalo. “Thank you.”

  As Harrison and Becky headed toward the elevator, he asked, “So, it went well?” He pushed the down button.

  “Encouraging. Definitely.” She smoothed the lapel of her business jacket.

  “That’s good. The sheriff’s department has to understand you’re going to fight for your job. I get the sense the sheriff doesn’t want any problems and he might be dragging his feet on getting you reinstated. He’s afraid of making the wrong decision, so he’s not making any.”

  “That’s a pretty strong assessment of him.”

  Harrison rocked back on his heels. “I’m good at reading people. He’s new and he doesn’t want to jeopardize his reputation. You’ve heard him going on and on about transparency.” He shook his head. “He’s into the politics of it all.”

  Becky took off her suit coat and draped it over her arm. “I just want my job back.”

  The elevator doors slid open and they stepped into the car. The smell of perfume from a recent passenger lingered in the small space. “My head tells me this is the right path, but a part of me worries I’m handling this all wrong. What if I’m building a wall between myself and the sheriff?” Hugging her jacket to her chest, she turned to face him. “Won’t this make working for Sheriff Landry harder?”

  “That’s what they want you to believe. There’s a procedure for these things. They know the rules and they’re hoping you’ll go it alone. Once they know you have representation, they won’t play fast and loose with the rules.”

  “I thought I was a rule-follower.” She had proved herself wrong when she left the Amish. The doors opened on the lobby floor. Prior to leaving the Amish, she often wondered what the inside of one of these fancy buildings looked like. Once when she was younger, their family had hired a driver and a van and had taken a rare trip to Niagara Falls. She was in awe of the world outside her own. Maybe that was when her curiosity began. A great, big world existed out there.

  She often wondered if her parents regretted that trip. Regretted showing her a life outside of Quail Hollow.

  As Harrison and Becky crossed the marble lobby, a few women dressed in business suits pushed through the glass revolving doors. Becky ran a hand down her jacket self-consciously, getting the sense that hers had been bargain basement while theirs probably cost more than a few of her paychecks. One of the women, carrying a coffee, strode confidently in their direction.

  Again, Becky’s mind drifted to all the lives she had never lived, could never imagine living. Was it easier or harder to find joy in life once you knew about all the opportunities in this great, big world? That was probably why the Amish shunned those who left.

  Curiosity was contagious.

  The woman seemed to take interest in Harrison and slowed down. She waved to the other women. “I’ll see you back in the office.” The woman’s gaze then dropped to Becky, a small smirk tugging at the corners of her pink lips. “Harrison...” The intimate nature of the way she said his name caught Becky’s attention.

  “Hello, Courtney,” he said. Was that a muscle twitching in his jaw?

  Courtney tilted her head. “What brings you to my building?”

  “Some business on the tenth floor.”

  “Legal trouble, huh? No lawyers in little ol’ Quail Hollow?”

  “The one I needed works here.” He gently touched Becky’s arm. “This is Deputy B
ecky Spoth. Becky, this is an old friend of mine, Courtney Ballston.”

  Courtney extended her hand and Becky shook it. The woman’s keen inspection made Becky feel like she was pressed between glass slides.

  Feeling like she was intruding on a private moment, Becky greeted the woman, then turned to Harrison. “I’ll meet you outside.”

  He handed her his truck keys. “I’ll meet you in the truck.”

  “Okay.” She took the keys, gave Courtney a polite smile and strode toward the door. The air was hot, but it felt good to be outside instead of in the sterile confines of the shiny marble lobby.

  With the weight of the key fob in her hand, she strode toward the parking garage across the street. It still amazed her that structures existed for the sole purpose of parking cars.

  She laughed to herself. Would she ever get used to the outside world? She pulled open the door to the stairwell and the smell of garbage and standing water assaulted her. Jogging up the steps to the second floor, she thought about her conversation with the lawyer. He had told her she had a few options regarding her job, and one included suing the department. He said he’d contact the sheriff’s department and request a copy of the video. See if they could authenticate it. Apparently, videos could be edited to appear one way when things were actually another. Was that what had happened?

  Becky couldn’t remember every detail from the event because of the adrenaline coursing through her system, but she didn’t strike Elijah. It wasn’t in her nature. Maybe if someone had altered the video like the lawyer suggested, this could be all over. She’d get her job back.

  What if that only proved the video was real? Apprehension sloshed in her gut, extinguishing her momentary flicker of hope. Since the entire event wasn’t captured on video, she’d need to find a witness. And her friend Amy who lived near the incident wasn’t talking.

  Frustration weighing her down, Becky pushed open the stairwell door on level three. She had to blink to adjust to the heavily shadowed parking garage She should have paid more attention when they got out of the truck, but she had been following Harrison’s lead while simultaneously trying to quiet her rioting nerves. She had never dealt with a lawyer before. And she hadn’t anticipated having to locate the truck in the parking garage on her own.