Cold Case, Hot Accomplice

by Carla Cassidy

  He opened the piece of paper to view her neat, pretty handwriting.

  Isaaic Zooker—he thinks I’m a demon

  Michael Arello—he stole from me and I fired his butt

  Gary Holzman—past relationship, ended badly

  Sarah Fisher—has the best herb garden in the state

  William King—thinks I tried to seduce his son

  Jason King—teenager with a Mrs. Robinson complex

  Rita Whitehead—the witch who thinks I stole her recipes

  Gus Greene—part-time worker who I yell at a lot

  Josephine Landers—don’t know what I’d do without her

  Greg Stillwell—Josie’s assistant—good guy

  That’s all I can think of right now, but I still can’t imagine any of these people trying to kill me.

  Steve smiled as he reread each of her side notes about the people she’d listed. His smile faded as he got to the name Gary Holzman. She’d indicated that he was a past relationship that had ended badly. How badly? And when had this relationship taken place? And why did a little tinge of jealousy streak through him at the thought of Roxy with any other man?

  He would have to wait to get his questions answered until Roxy got up, and he didn’t want to closely examine why he’d feel any jealousy about any relationship Roxy had in her past or in her future.

  He found his thoughts drifting to Stacy. At first he’d thought Roxy was a lot like his ex. There was no question that Roxy and Stacy shared some personality traits. Like Roxy, Stacy had a temper, but he could never imagine Roxy playing the passive-aggressive head games that Stacy used to play. He could never imagine Roxy holding a grudge for weeks after a fight.

  Roxy aired her anger and then was done with it. She came at you head-on, and you never had to guess or worry what might happen next.

  As always when he thought of Stacy, his head filled with thoughts of Tommy. Once again he picked up his coffee cup and carried it to the window, where the light of dawn was just beginning to peek over the sky.

  In the reflection of the window he imagined his son the way he’d been the last time he’d seen him. Five years old, towheaded with Steve’s blue eyes, his boy had already been amazing. Bright and funny and loving, he’d been Steve’s entire world. He’d be seven now, and Steve hated all the moments of Tommy’s life that he’d missed in the past two years.

  For the first six months he’d been certain that he’d hear from Stacy, that she’d come crawling back to him wanting money or something, and Tommy would be returned to him.

  He no longer had that hope. Too much time had passed. The tiny thread of hope of seeing his son again that he’d been able to maintain had become so fragile, and yet he clung desperately to it.

  He couldn’t survive unless he sustained the belief that he would see Tommy again, and he felt as if everything else in his life except for his work was tied up until Tommy was back. He was trapped in a box of the past and couldn’t move forward with his heart so filled with pain.

  Last night with Roxy had been amazing, but it would never be a bridge to anything else; she would never be invited into his life in any meaningful way, because there wasn’t enough room in his heart for the pain and new love to coincide.

  When the sun finally popped up in the sky and began to lighten it, Steve pulled a pound of bacon out of the refrigerator and placed a handful of strips in an awaiting skillet.

  As the bacon began to sizzle, he thought again about the list Roxy had made. There were definitely people on there he intended to investigate, although nobody except her ex-boyfriend really jumped out at him.

  Several of the names were of Amish people from the nearby settlement. Maybe it was time for a drive there to ask some questions, although there had never been any crime or criminal activity among the Amish in the past. Crime wasn’t a part of who they were or what they believed.

  Still, it wouldn’t hurt to take a drive out there and check in with Bishop Tom Yoder, whom Steve had occasionally visited with in the past. He and his fellow lawmen wanted to keep the lines of communication and trust open between the Amish and the English for the good of everyone in the small town.

  The bacon was cooked and in the microwave ready to reheat by the time Roxy made an appearance. She’d obviously showered and had dressed in her jeans and T-shirt from the day before.

  She looked at the clock on the oven and gasped in surprise. “Almost seven-thirty. I never sleep this late.”

  “Your body must have needed it,” he replied. “Sit.” He pointed to the table. “This morning I’ll fix your breakfast and wait on you for a change.”

  “Hmm, sounds like a plan.” She cast him a smile that made him want to throw her across the table and make love to her again.

  Instead he poured her a cup of coffee and set it in front of her. He turned to the fridge and pulled out a carton of eggs. “I’ve been going over the list of people that you wrote out for me,” he said. “Tell me about Gary Holzman.”

  She frowned as if she found the question distasteful. “Gary Holzman...a controlling jerk who wanted to make me into somebody I wasn’t.” She took a sip of her coffee and then continued, “He owns a real estate business in Hershey, and I dated him for three months about a year ago.”

  Steve scrambled eggs in a bowl, along with a dollop of milk. “You wrote that it ended badly.”

  “We said some pretty nasty things to each other at the end,” she admitted.

  “Who broke up with whom?”

  “It was pretty much mutual. We were ill-fated from the beginning. He thought I was too obsessed with my business and suggested I see a doctor for some sort of tranquilizer to calm me down. He thought I should wear dresses instead of jeans, that I talked too much, that I should be more demure in how I approached people. Like I said, he wanted me to do things I didn’t want to do, to be somebody that I could never be.”

  “So why did you date him for three months?” Steve poured the eggs into the skillet and then loaded the toaster with bread.

  “I honestly don’t know. I think I tried to make it work for Aunt Liz, who wanted to see me happy with somebody. But Gary was my last attempt at having it all.”

  “Having it all?”

  “You know, the business, a husband and a family. But I realize now I’m not wife or family material, and that’s why I don’t do relationships. The last time I saw Gary, he told me I needed to see a psychiatrist, that I was probably bipolar, and I told him at least that was better than having no personality and asked him when he’d gotten his lobotomy.”

  A burst of laughter escaped Steve.

  “It wasn’t funny,” she protested, but the corners of her lush lips curved upward.

  “He was obviously an ass and not the right man for you.”

  Steve made the toast, reheated the bacon and put the eggs on a plate, and he didn’t ask her anything else until they were seated at the table, facing each other, with breakfast served.

  “I noticed you listed several people from the settlement. I thought maybe this morning we’d take a drive out there and have a little chat with Bishop Yoder, see if any of his young people are into throwing knives.”

  “Amish people don’t commit crimes,” she said.

  “Generally speaking, that’s true,” he agreed. “But Amish people are also human beings, and it is always possible there’s a rotten apple in the bunch.”

  “I find it hard to believe that anyone from the Amish community would want to hurt me.”

  “What about Michael Arello?”

  “He’s not Amish, but he’s a nasty piece of work. He’s twenty-two years old, lives here in town, and I gave him a job a couple of months ago as a kitchen helper and busboy. I caught him carrying out a whole ham one night and fired him on the spot.” She frowned thoughtfully. “Maybe he’s resp
onsible for what’s happened to me. He was pretty upset when I threw him out, and now that I really think about it, he mentioned that he took martial-arts lessons at Ling’s Studio.”

  Steve loved the way the sun drifting through the window sparked off her dark curls, but tried to stay focused on the mini-interrogation that was taking place.

  “What about Isaaic Zooker? You wrote that he thinks you’re a demon.”

  She laughed and picked up a piece of her toast. “I exaggerated a bit. He’s my cheese man, and every time he delivers cheese to me he looks at me as if I’m a worldly harlot who has no humility.”

  “And William King?”

  “His son, Jason, is about seventeen and for a while, whenever he’d come to town he’d hang around the restaurant. He never came inside, but I’d occasionally take a break and talk to him. He’s a nice young man, and it was obvious he had a bit of a crush on me, and I was just trying to be friendly. But his father caught him in front of my place one day and yanked him away. I could tell William was quite angry.”

  She set her toast back on her plate without taking a bite. “But I still say that I can’t believe anyone from the settlement would try to hurt me. Violence just isn’t the way they deal with things.”

  “Does this young Jason have a nice Amish girlfriend?”

  “I have no idea. Why?”

  “I just think, given the nature of the attacks on you, we can’t rule out the potential that a woman is behind them. Just how close are you to Josie?”

  He’d obviously caught her off guard, and she looked at him in surprise. “You’re barking up the wrong tree. She’s my right-hand woman, the person I depend on most in running the business. Josie loves the restaurant, and we’re good friends.” He could tell she was getting frustrated. “And how does any of this tie into Aunt Liz?”

  “I’m not sure it does,” he admitted. “Eat, Roxy. I have a feeling it’s going to be a long day.”

  * * *

  Roxy stood in her bedroom and looked at her clothes in her closet, aware that Steve was someplace downstairs in the restaurant waiting for her.

  They had finished up breakfast at his place, and then he’d taken a quick shower and dressed and they’d headed here so she could change into fresh clothing before heading out to the settlement to speak to Bishop Yoder and request permission to talk to some of the other people living there.

  With that particular destination in mind, Roxy decided to forgo her normal choice of jeans and a T-shirt and instead pulled a long dress from her closet. The top was buttercup yellow, and the skirt was denim and hung to her feet. Although her arms were bared, at least her legs would be covered.

  It was only respectful if she was entering their world to do her best not to offend anyone. She pulled on the dress and then stepped into a pair of plain brown sandals. She fought the impulse to add the denim and yellow earrings that she’d specifically bought to wear with the dress, and with a final glance in the bathroom mirror she turned and headed back downstairs.

  She found Steve seated at his usual table with Frank and another uniformed officer as company. Frank and the uniform were in the middle of their breakfast, and Steve had a cup of coffee before him.

  They all greeted each other, and then Steve got up and within minutes they were in his car and headed out. “Frank said it might be a good idea for you to talk to your sisters.” He slid her a sideways glance. “Apparently Sheri called him and said you weren’t keeping them up-to-date with anything, and he said she sounded pretty angry.”

  “He didn’t tell them about the attacks on me, did he?” she asked in a panic.

  “No, I think he just told her he’d pass along the message that you needed to contact them. You can’t hide things from them forever, Roxy.”

  “I know. I was just hoping that when I talked to them I’d have something good to tell them.”

  “We keep having this same conversation. They’re grown women. You don’t have to protect them anymore. And on another topic, I’m assuming you haven’t gotten any calls about your posters that I should know about.”

  “Only if you want to know that Aunt Liz was abducted by aliens, burned as a witch at midnight or seen in a dream in an igloo in Alaska,” she replied with disgust.

  “I don’t have to tell you that it was a bad idea to put your personal phone number on the posters,” he said. “We could have set up a dedicated phone line for tips. Rarely does a tip line yield any real results. It just stirs up all the crazies who like to play on the phone.”

  She nodded, her thoughts still on her sisters, whom she had been avoiding. “Maybe we should stop at the Roadside Stop on the way to the settlement so I can check in with Sheri.”

  “I think maybe that’s a good idea,” he agreed.

  It didn’t take long for them to get to the Roadside Stop. As Steve browsed the aisles, Roxy faced her youngest sister.

  “Nice of you to check in, especially since you haven’t been answering either Marlene’s calls or mine.” It was obvious her sweet-natured little sister was irritated.

  “I’m sorry. Things have been a little crazy lately.” Roxy knew the excuse was lame.

  “Frank told me there’s been no news on Aunt Liz.” Sheri’s golden-brown eyes darkened. “It’s been almost a whole week.”

  “I know, but nobody is giving up,” Roxy said firmly. “The police are doing everything possible to find her.”

  Sheri nodded. “Marlene and I need to hear from you, Roxy. You shouldn’t have to bear this burden alone.” Sheri slid her gaze toward Steve. “Hopefully you aren’t going through this all by yourself,” she said with a hint of slyness.

  Warmth swept into Roxy’s cheeks, and she tried desperately to will it away. “Steve is working the case hard.”

  “By the blush on your cheeks, I’d say he’s working you hard,” Sheri noted.

  “Sheri! He’s not like that at all.” Roxy was amazed to hear herself defending the man she’d once thought the consummate womanizer. “I misjudged his character before all this. He’s a nice man.”

  Sheri pulled her into a hug. “Just don’t forget that Marlene and I are here for you, too. We need to stick together until Aunt Liz is back where she belongs.”

  Roxy returned her petite sister’s hug. “And we are going to get her back where she belongs.” The two broke apart. “Steve and I are headed over to the settlement to ask a few questions.”

  Sheri frowned. “You think somebody from the settlement has something to do with Aunt Liz’s disappearance?”

  “Not really, but Steve wants to ask a couple of men a few questions. It’s all part of a thorough investigation.”

  “Let me know if you find out anything.”

  “I promise,” Roxy said and meant it. Maybe it was time she stopped trying to protect her sisters from life, from hurt and pain. As Steve had reminded her a hundred times, they were adults and surely could handle whatever the future held.

  After speaking to Sheri, she went in search of Steve, who had disappeared. She found him just outside the store on his cell phone.

  He held up a finger to let her know he’d be a minute and then finished the call. “That was Jimmy with a report about what they found last night...or what they didn’t find.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “They found no point of entry other than the window I broke to get inside. The mop had no fingerprints on the handle, and the freezer door also had been wiped clean of prints.”

  “If there was no evidence of a point of entry, then that means whoever was in there must have had a key.” A shiver worked up her spine as she thought of the people who had keys to the business, the people she considered friends.

  “Or is an expert at picking a lock,” he said as they walked to his car.

  They got back into the car to drive the fe
w miles up the road. “I need to buy a gun,” she said as Steve pulled out of the Roadside Stop parking lot.

  He nearly snapped her neck with his fast stop. He turned in his seat and frowned at her. “You are not getting a gun. You can be anything you want in the world, but you can’t be a gun owner. You’d wind up shooting a customer or yourself by accident.”

  “Or you,” she said, knowing he was right.

  “There’s always that, too,” he agreed.

  “It sucks being a target of somebody and not knowing who they are or why they want to hurt me.”

  “It’s odd that whoever it is hasn’t succeeded yet. I mean, instead of just locking you in the freezer, why not stab you to death or beat you with something?”

  “I know. I thought of that already.”

  He turned down the lane that was Amish land. “It makes me wonder again if maybe the attacker is a woman.”

  Roxy frowned. “I just can’t imagine any woman who would want me hurt or dead.” She turned and looked out the window, where young and old men in black trousers, long-sleeved white shirts and wide-brimmed straw hats worked in the fields.

  Steve drove up to a modest white ranch house with a huge dairy barn behind it. “This is Tom Yoder’s place. He’s the bishop, and we need to check in with him before we speak to anyone else.”

  “While we’re here I’d like to stop by the Fisher house and pick up some fresh herbs from Sarah.” She pointed in the distance to another pristine white house.

  “We can do that,” he agreed. He pulled to a halt before the Yoder house and cut the engine. He unbuckled his seat belt and then turned to look at her. “And, Roxy, just for the record, you should never have to change a thing about yourself for any man. You’re perfect just the way you are.”

  He didn’t wait for a reply, but instead turned and got out of the car. It was at that moment Roxy realized she was more than a little bit in love with Detective Steve Kincaid.

  Chapter 13

  Tom Yoder was in his sixties. He had a wide face that wreathed in a smile as he greeted Steve and Roxy. “It’s been a while, Detective Kincaid,” he said as he opened the door to gesture the two inside his home.