by Alison Stone
“The men stopped talking when I approached, but I got the sense that Amos saw more than he videotaped.” She studied the palm of her hand for a moment before continuing. “I know we lead very different lives now, but I know you’d never hurt someone.”
“Thank you.” New hope blossomed in Becky’s chest and made her jittery. She had to act on this. “I need to talk to Amos. Get him to come forward.” She watched Mary’s face, praying that her friend might pave the way.
“Then you’ll help Paul?”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
Mary’s eyes brightened. “Really?”
“I can’t promise you anything, but perhaps since the animals are now safe and healthy, he can pay a fine. Nothing more. I’ll have to see. I don’t have the power to make this decision.”
“Denki.” Mary nodded enthusiastically, perhaps overestimating Becky’s influence.
“Don’t tell Paul or Amos that you spoke with me, either,” Becky said. She wanted to track down Amos this afternoon and use the element of surprise.
“Yah. I better go. I need to get dinner ready. Paul will be hungry.” Without saying anything more, Mary turned and hustled toward her buggy, a woman on a mission. She unwound the reins from the light post near the end of the driveway. She hopped up on the buggy and flicked the reins. The horse began his steady trot.
Becky stared after the horse and buggy long after it disappeared, the clip-clop-clip ringing in her ears.
“Come on, Chewie. Time to go in.” Her new companion bounded up the steps and sat down at the front door. Becky opened the door and the cool air-conditioning washed over her.
She unhooked the leash and patted Chewie on the head. He curled up on the couch. He lifted his head as if to beckon her. She plopped down next to him. The dog was great company, but she missed true companionship.
In just the past few days, she had talked to two Amish friends. Girls with whom she had shared a past. Her childhood hopes and dreams. She had missed their friendship. Was her past beckoning for her to return? Had she made a horrible mistake by leaving the only people who ever truly supported her?
She snapped off the TV and hugged her legs to her chest. She sat in silence save for the occasional jangle of Chewie’s collar. She reached across and picked up her cell phone and texted Harrison.
Have lead on witness to Elijah’s beating. Care to go with me?
She stretched to put the phone down when it chimed.
Yes, don’t go alone. Pick you up after shift.
* * *
At the end of his shift, Harrison stopped by the sheriff’s office. He was hoping for an update on the investigation into the Elijah Lapp beating as well as any news regarding the young men conducting target practice behind Becky’s house.
Harrison lingered outside the office door, waiting for Sheriff Landry to finish up a phone call. He didn’t want to appear to be eavesdropping.
Landry hung up the phone and looked up. “How can I help you?”
Harrison stepped inside the office and closed the door. “It’s about Deputy Becky Spoth,” he said, sitting down. He didn’t want Landry to feel on the defensive.
Landry braced both hands on either side of his desk as he pushed back in the large leather chair without standing up. “I can’t talk about the investigation. It’s ongoing.”
“I understand the difficult position you’re in.”
Landry sighed and slumped back in his chair as if he had finally found an ally. “This is the last thing I wanted during the first year of my tenure as sheriff.” His gaze drifted toward the door as if someone might overhear his confession.
Harrison cleared his throat. “Deputy Spoth needs support. I haven’t known her for long, but I understand she grew up Amish.” Harrison was reluctant to reveal his growing relationship with Becky for no other reason than to respect her privacy.
“Yes?” The curious inflection in the single word suggested the sheriff wanted to know what one had to do with the other.
“Becky walked away from her community and she no longer has their support.” Harrison drummed his fingers on his thigh, feeling a current of anxiety. “Now she doesn’t feel like she has the support of the department.” In a sense, she was being shamed from all sides. Harrison imagined that was how his brother felt during his downward spiral before his death.
Landry sighed heavily. “She’s in a tough spot. She testified against another officer and then a video surfaced suggesting she may have been just as guilty.”
“Is that what you believe?” Harrison struggled to keep his voice even. “That she’s guilty?”
Landry steepled his fingers and placed his elbows on the desk, and gave him a bland, non-committal expression as if debating which path would have the least negative effect on his career. Protecting one’s own backside seemed to be a natural political instinct.
“The video is damaging to her story,” the sheriff said evenly.
“We can’t...” Harrison braced his hands on the arms of the chair to stand, then decided to lean back. Deep breath. Control your anger. “Any chance there are other witnesses? Someone who saw more than the video showed?” He wanted to get the inside dirt before meeting with Becky and discussing her possible witness.
Landry ran a hand over his mouth. “The deputies have canvassed the community. Nothing. The Amish are tight-lipped. I don’t imagine it’s going to be easy, especially since Becky used to be one of them. They already view her as a traitor.”
“What would it take to get her back in uniform, because we both know she’s innocent in this.”
A corner of the sheriff’s mouth twitched. “She’s going to have to be patient as we investigate.”
“Do you really think—” he stopped short of calling her Becky “—Deputy Spoth is a bad deputy?” A growing anger pulsed in his veins at the sheriff’s cool indifference, or so it seemed.
Landry lifted his palms. “I don’t. But it’s hard to dispute a damaging video.”
Harrison cleared his throat. “The video shows nothing.” He had seen a copy floating around the department.
“It’s inconclusive. We can’t have it blow back in our faces if she’s found guilty. We can’t appear too soft because she’s a woman. Or former Amish. This needs to be done by the book.”
“Investigate, then. Do what you need to, but in the meantime, also be aware that someone is trying to hurt Becky.”
“Hurt?” The sheriff jerked his head back. “She reported that someone slashed her tires in the lot here. It’s certainly not a common occurrence, but it’s not rare, either. We live in a small town. Teenagers get bored.” He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the desk. “They do stupid stuff.”
“You can’t blame this on kids will be kids.”
Landry’s brows snapped together. “And the Buffalo incident can’t be related to this.”
They didn’t know that for sure. “What about the incident in her yard when she almost got shot?” He struggled to keep his frustration in check.
“Some young men were having target practice. They neglected to show you all their guns.” The sheriff seemed to be able to explain everything away.
“Did anyone follow up with them?” Harrison couldn’t find anything in the system, but the deputy in charge of the investigation could have looked deeper into their stories.
The sheriff flattened his hands on the desk. “Nope. Nothing. I’m thinking that’s a dead end.”
Harrison stared at him a long minute, deciding how to proceed on that. Is this what small-town policing was like?
“Listen,” the sheriff said, having gone back to tapping the pads of his fingers together, “I know you want to help, but we have to be careful. We have to root out bad deputies, otherwise it makes the whole department look bad. Quail Hollow is still reeling from one of its own murdering a young Amish mother.
”
“That happened decades ago.” Harrison had only recently moved to Quail Hollow when news broke of the arrest of a former undersheriff in the murder of a young Amish mother over two decades ago. Allegations that the sheriff’s department didn’t know how to police their own were splashed all over the news from Buffalo to Cleveland. Now it seemed Becky would pay the price for stricter policing among their own.
“The truth was hidden for a long time. As the new sheriff, my campaign promise was to be transparent. I can’t shirk my duty because it’s tough. People have long memories.”
Harrison had the same convictions when it came to his brother. Tough love and all that. Sometimes living with the effects of your convictions was harder than having the convictions in the first place.
“We’ll follow up on everything, Deputy James,” the sheriff said, a dismissal clear in his tone. “Best if you stay out of it. It seems you might be biased.”
Heat flared in his ears, but he bit back his temper. “Deputy Spoth needs to be cleared sooner rather than later.”
Landry held up his arms with his wrists together, miming that his hands were tied. Harrison took it as an excuse to do nothing.
Harrison pushed to his feet. “Sometimes someone has to stand up for what’s right, even if their hands are tied.”
Landry got to his feet. The cords straining in his neck suggested he, too, was holding back the full force of his temper. “Are you suggesting I’m not doing my job?” He tapped his index finger on the desk repeatedly for emphasis. “I’m the sheriff here. My job is to find the truth. Not fly off the handle because I don’t think one of my female deputies is capable of excessive force.” He lowered his voice to a low growl. “They want equal rights, now they have them and can’t handle the consequences.”
It was Harrison’s turn to narrow his gaze. “I’d almost think you had something against women in the department.”
The sheriff’s eyes widened, looking like he had been offended. “I don’t care if my deputies are male or female. I only care that they do their jobs.” He paused for effect. “This department can’t afford another black eye.”
Harrison turned toward the door, then turned back. “In your efforts to protect this department, don’t forget to focus on protecting the people that work within it.”
The sheriff leaned back and crossed his arms, the expression revealing his barely contained rage.
* * *
As soon as Harrison pulled up the driveway, Becky ran across the lawn and hopped into his truck. She was glad to see he had changed into jeans and a T-shirt, because it would make approaching Amos King easier. He might talk if he felt less threatened.
She still couldn’t believe she had a potential witness.
“Thanks for coming,” she said. “I would have followed up on this myself, but your lawyer friend said I shouldn’t do anything to stir the pot regarding my case, and this definitely feels like stirring the pot.” She resisted reaching out and tapping his arm, she was so excited.
Harrison put the truck into Reverse. “Where to?”
“Let’s try the church parking lot on Main Street. I’ve seen Amos with his friends riding skateboards down there. It’s worth a shot. This way we don’t have to confront him at home in front of his brother, Paul.”
Harrison pulled out onto the road and headed into town. “So Amos is part of the King family?”
“Yes. Amos is Paul’s younger brother.”
“Interesting. There are only a few degrees of separation around here.”
“You don’t know the half of it.”
“Tell me what happened. This Amos kid took the video, but his brother Paul turned it in anonymously to give you grief because you’ve been on him about the dogs? Did I get that right?” Becky had shared the events of this afternoon over the phone.
“Mary didn’t say Paul turned it in, but it had to be him. Amos doesn’t have any ill feelings toward me. There’s no reason.” She searched her memory, but couldn’t come up with anything.
When they got to the church, sure enough, a handful of young men were using the stairs, railings and parking curbs to do stunts.
“Pull over here. I don’t want them to take off if they see us coming,” Becky said.
“Do you see Amos?” Harrison asked.
Squinting, Becky leaned forward. The early-evening sun was right in her line of vision. A tall guy leaped off the stairs and landed on his skateboard, rolled a few feet before spinning around to watch a friend repeat the stunt behind him. His blunt-cut hair poked out from under a Buffalo Bills baseball cap. The frayed edges spoke of its age.
“The kid on the right. I think that’s him. Come on.” She pushed open the door without waiting for him.
When Becky was within a few feet, she called Amos’s name. He stepped on the back of the skateboard and it popped up into his hand. “Yeah,” he started to say, rather coolly, until recognition sparked in his eyes. “Hey, Rebecca.” If she wasn’t watching him so closely, she might have missed the color growing in his cheeks.
She pointed at his skateboard. “You’re pretty good at that.” Amos was a handful of years younger than Paul. He had always looked up to his brother while Paul seemed to dismiss him. She supposed that dynamic was fairly universal, Amish or not, big brother to little brother.
“I want to talk to you about a video.”
Amos tucked the skateboard under his arm and dipped his head. His bangs hid his eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he mumbled with the lilt of Pennsylvania Dutch.
“I think you do.” Becky took another step toward him, then she suddenly changed tactics. “I’m hoping you can help me.” She also hoped all the times she had been nice to Paul’s younger brother would pay off here.
The other three boys stopped doing stunts in the church lot long enough to watch them. “We’re just chatting,” Becky said in her best reassuring tone. “You guys can go about your business. All I want to do is talk to Amos.”
One of the kids’ eyes suddenly lit up and he pointed frantically at her. Was that admiration she detected in his eyes? “You’re the lady deputy who beat up Elijah.”
“Are you basing that on something you witnessed firsthand?” Harrison asked, speaking up before Becky had a chance to find her voice. Regardless of her innocence, would she forever be known as the “lady deputy who beat up the Amish kid”? She tried to hide her frustration by squaring her shoulders and never taking her eyes off Amos’s friend.
“No, um...” The kid started to stammer. “I saw the video. It went viral. Totally awesome.” If violent videos were deemed awesome, Becky feared for the next generation. She clenched her teeth, fighting the urge to school the young men. There was nothing awesome about it. But she couldn’t risk Amos shutting down.
“Did you post the video online?” Becky asked.
“No, but I recorded it.” Amos pushed the gravel around with the toe of his sneaker. He probably had a stash of clothes and shoes at a friend’s house that he changed in and out of as he left home, not wanting to get any grief from Paul or Mary. Amos was the last unmarried King. From what Becky’s sister had told her, Amos was supposed to be baptized and married later this year. He certainly didn’t act like a young man preparing for baptism and subsequent marriage in an Amish community. “And I sent it to a bunch of people, too.” He looked up with a hint of regret in his eyes. “It was just a video.”
Just a video that had ruined her life.
She drew in a deep breath to calm her rioting nerves. “Okay, so someone alerted Deputy Reich’s lawyer about the video. That can’t be undone. But I could use your help, Amos.” She took a step closer, forcing him to meet her gaze, reminding him who she was. “Did you see the entire incident with Elijah?”
“Yah.” He looked up, a wary look in his eyes.
Her mouth went dry. Had she found her
witness? Please, Lord. She held her breath and dared to ask him the question. “Did you see me hurt Elijah Lapp?”
Amos shook his head slowly. “Neh.”
“What did you see?”
Amos rubbed his nose vigorously. “You used a stick to pry the deputy off Elijah. When you pulled him off, he landed on you, but you scrabbled out from under him and forced him back down.”
“You saw all this?”
“Yah, when I was running away. The video caught the ground, but I didn’t take my eyes off the fight. By the time I got to the Millers’ barn, the other patrol cars and the ambulance had arrived.”
Thank you, Lord.
“What were you doing at the Millers’ farm?”
“They hired me to do some extra work.”
Becky considered all this. “Would you be willing to come down to the sheriff’s department and give your testimony?”
“Oh, man. I don’t know. I’m supposed to be preparing for baptism. How am I going to explain having a cell phone and taking videos? The bishop won’t think I’m serious about committing to the Amish.”
“I’ll do all I can to protect you. I need your help.”
Amos looked like he was going to be sick.
“Please, Amos. The truth needs to be told. Someone is trying to hurt me and I’m afraid it’s because they think I hurt Elijah.”
Amos opened his mouth to protest, but Becky’s smile seemed to disarm him.
“Someone slashed my tires. Someone shot at my house.”
“I don’t know anything about that. I just took the video. That’s all. I promise.”
“Of course,” Becky said. “And I’m sure you had nothing to do with the dogs in your family’s barn.”
Amos’s eyes lit up. “No way. That was all Paul. I told him it was a bad idea. I’d leave the cage open at times, letting them get away.”
That explained how Chewie got out.
“Besides,” Amos added, seeming skittish, “the deputies took the dogs away.”
“I know,” Becky said.
“But why did you show Paul the video?” Harrison asked.
Amos’s gaze skittered over to him. “I showed it to a lot of people. And it was on the internet.”