by Ashley Emma
He is twice the man Jake ever was.
Liv stayed silent, not giving voice to her true feelings.
“I bet you’re glad you killed him,” Diana seethed, and Liv noticed how gray her hair was, how cold her eyes were, how much older she looked now. Then the anger swelled up inside Liv, but she suppressed it. A true Amish woman would not usually talk back or be as cruel as Diana was being.
“You know,” Diana said loudly, “it is peculiar that you arrived just after my husband’s murder and now, since you have been here, the incidents keep growing worse and worse.”
Several of the people within earshot turned to look at Diana. Liv felt like panicking, but she kept calm.
Isaac put his hands on his hips in defiance. “Liv did not commit any crime.”
“I didn’t say anything about her committing a crime. You did.” Diana glared at Isaac and Liv then turned and walked away. Liv’s eyes stung with tears of anger. People were looking at her—most of them with furrowed or raised brows. Their gazes focused on her, and for a moment she actually felt guilty.
But she wasn’t.
Then she was reminded of Jesus, who saved the very people who accused Him wrongly. He loved them even still and ministered to them regardless. She knew she was nothing like Jesus, but she had to still serve all these people as best as she could.
Isaac came close to her, gently touching her arm. “Are you okay?”
“I just want to go home,” she whimpered and wished everyone would stop looking at her, making her feel like a bug under a microscope. Her stomach churned with uneasiness. She just wanted to be alone, where she could be angry and cry and not have to pretend to be tough and unaffected.
“No, no. It’s okay, Liv. You didn’t commit those crimes, so don’t worry about what others think of you. Come join the fun, and you’ll forget about it in no time. Okay?”
She looked up into his eyes, which looked beautiful in this light. The rim of dark green surrounding his irises fascinated her, soothed her. She loved that about his eyes. He was so gentle, and all she could think about was how much he deserved in life. He was so pure-hearted, the most genuine person she knew.
“Okay.” She let him lead her to the building site and the tables, where several of the women greeted her.
“Diana was out of line when she said those things,” Maria whispered into Liv’s ear as she wrapped her in a hug.
Liv nodded, tears threatening again. But she willed them away, wishing she could turn off her emotions with a switch.
Never let your emotions interfere with your job.
Aunt Mary sidled up next to her and draped her arm around Liv’s shoulders, squeezing and offering assurance. “No one believed her, anyway.”
Liv doubted that.
Isaac’s mother, Hannah, smiled at her warmly and nodded. “Just come help us, and you’ll feel better before you know it.”
And she did. She helped them serve the men drinks, and at lunchtime she sat with the women as the men ate, then she helped the women clean up after them before eating themselves, because there was not enough room for everyone to eat at once. The amount of food was astonishing, and there were lots of leftovers—vegetables, taco casseroles, soups, breads, shoofly pies, brownies, platters of cheese and deer sausage—all typical Amish foods in Unity. They’d be eating leftovers for the next few days for sure.
During the times when there was no food-associated work to be done, Liv smiled when Hannah, Maria, Aunt Mary and some of the other women pulled out colorful quilts to stitch.
“You all never quit!” She laughed, and Aunt Mary grinned.
“We like to keep busy. Want to try?” She offered out her needle.
“No, thanks.” Liv shook her head. “I’ll only hurt myself or ruin your beautiful quilt.”
Aunt Mary shrugged and began her sewing, and Liv watched in fascination as their needles looped up and down, back and forth, their skillful hands requiring no sewing machine, knowing exactly where to place every stitch. This community was like a quilt, each square of a person unique with its own color and pattern, stitched together by love and unity. She felt a little jealous of their creativity. She would never be able to create something so intricate.
She loved that this simple life they lived was centered on family and friendships and faith, cutting out everything that was unimportant to make more room for what really mattered. She wanted to somehow apply that to her own life, and wished more people would.
At the end of the day, Liv walked home with her relatives, feeling so good to be a part of something that helped someone so much. But the shadow of the newly built barn was as dark gray as the sadness and worry that still lingered inside her, threatening to grow darker and darker.
*
Liv couldn’t sleep that night, tormented by the memories of people’s accusing looks. Did they believe she was the criminal? If only they knew she was the detective investigating the crimes.
Liv tossed and turned for hours, then finally clamped a hand on her .45. If she couldn’t sleep, she might as well take a walk and try to find some clues while no one would see her.
She put on a dress and shoes, placed the firearm in her holster, clipped her badge onto it, and looked out the window.
Farms and fields spread out over the vast land, the moonlight casting sleepy shadows on the lovely scenery. It was all so serene and peaceful, and it should have remained untainted by this world’s evil.
But evil had wormed its way in. It always found a way in. Liv only hoped she would be able to conquer it.
There! Something moved near Isaac’s house!
That perp will be sorry now. She anxiously hoped she’d be able to either get a look at him or catch him.
Not waiting a second longer, she grabbed her flashlight, dashing out of the house and hoping she didn’t wake anyone up.
She ran to Isaac’s house, which only took a few minutes.
Please don’t let me be too late!
She slowed down as she reached his property. The front was empty, so she ran around to the back. There, trying to quietly open Isaac’s door was a large, burly man. The moonlight outlined his silhouette, and Liv immediately sprang into action.
For a moment excitement rose within her. Maybe she would see his face! Then she saw the ski mask on his head and her heart sank. She wouldn’t be able to see his face unless she somehow ripped off that mask.
Challenge accepted.
She pulled the gun out of her holster, feeling the cool metal against her skin, and sprinted toward the intruder, hoping to sneak up on him. But he must have heard her, because he took one look at her and darted away, in the direction of the woods.
She ran even faster, trying to catch up. Her lungs and legs burned as she ran as fast as she could, but it was no use. He tore off through the fields, surprising Liv at how quickly his legs carried his large body. She slowed down, defeated, as she watched him disappear into the dark tree line. Who was this guy, some type of Olympic athlete?
She kicked the ground in rage. He got away again! If it was even the same man.
She bent over, resting her hands on her knees, trying to catch her breath, feeling like she was getting nowhere with this case. She couldn’t even catch up to the perp on foot. She desperately wished for more detectives to come work on this case, but she knew it was out of the question, as likely to work as building a snowman in Jamaica.
Somehow, she would have to catch this guy on her own. She turned around to go check on Isaac, and a few minutes later was relieved to find he was safe.
At least one thing had gone right that night.
*
On Sunday morning, the birds awoke Liv before any of her relatives did. The morning sunlight peered through the simple white curtains, and Liv stretched.
Isaac had been fine when she had checked on him the night before. Since the man hadn’t even gotten inside, Isaac had slept through the entire ordeal. He didn’t even know she’d been there.
Liv we
nt downstairs in time to help Aunt Mary and Maria make pancakes.
“Good morning!” Maria piped from her place at the stove.
“Oh, good morning. Want some help?”
“Sure. You can set the table and then help me cook these.” Aunt Mary smiled at Olivia. She turned and stirred blueberries in her batter.
Liv went to the cabinets and set out the plates and forks and cups as Maria hummed while cutting up some fruit. Gideon came inside and they ate, then he read from the Bible. Liv actually listened, admiring Abraham’s faith when God asked him to sacrifice his son. At the last moment, when Abraham was about to kill his own child, God stopped him. How had he had such faith? He trusted God with what was most precious to him.
Could she trust God to work this out somehow? To somehow catch the criminal, then go back to her life without hurting everyone she loved? Could they somehow understand?
God, I don’t see how this will work out, but I’m going to trust You. Or at least I will try.
Gideon closed the weathered Bible and prayed aloud. Then they got in the buggy and drove to church.
Green was finally coloring the fields that spread across the community. Liv relished the sounds of the birds singing, the cows mooing, and the sight of horses nudging each other with their soft noses. The world was coming alive in Unity after a long winter. But Liv felt as though winter had taken permanent residence in her heart. She longed for it to thaw and be joyful like the world around her.
“It is so beautiful here,” she murmured. She had loved growing up here.
“It’s a wonderful place to live most of the time,” Maria remarked. “And to raise children. They can play outside without you having to worry about their safety or getting hit by a car. There’s so much for them to learn here. You want children, right?”
Children? Ha. That was the last thing on Liv’s mind. Her job overtook her life. She knew it would never leave time to properly raise children. “Of course. Lots of children.” She smiled, hoping her cousin wouldn’t see through her thin grin of a mask.
They filed into the church, greeting the other women, and Liv quickly took her seat. The church elders had voted in a new bishop, Bishop Byler. He was a kind, elderly man with a long gray beard who often wore a black hat. Liv had known him before she had left, and he had always seemed understanding and nonjudgmental. She watched him interact with the other men, laughing goodheartedly at something one of the men said.
As she fidgeted on the hard bench she sat on, waiting for the service to begin and twirling the ribbon on her kapp with her fingers, she thought about how everything in her life had happened the way it had for a reason.
If she had not killed Jake, she wouldn’t have become a detective. Then she wouldn’t have helped countless victims. Now she stood up for herself and wasn’t afraid to protect others.
Yes, everything did happen for a reason. Maybe God had had a plan for her life all along.
“Good morning,” the bishop boomed, his deep voice resounding through the room. His smile lit up the church like a child’s laughter, and Liv relaxed a little. This would all work out. Somehow.
They began with singing. Olivia let her gaze wander to Samuel, then Diana, who were both glaring at her, narrowing their eyes as if silently threatening her.
Well, they had no idea who they were dealing with.
Chapter Eleven
After church, when they arrived back home for a day of rest, Olivia crept downstairs to get her cell phone from where it was charging. Then she ran off into the woods and called Branson.
“Hey, Liv. Got an update for me?” he asked, chewing something. “Oh, and we got the fingerprint results back for the note, the step, the casing, and the bat. We didn’t get anything useful. This guy is smart enough to wear gloves.”
“Great,” she grumbled. Another dead end. “Well, last night a man tried to sneak into Isaac Troyer’s house. He wore a mask, so I tried to sneak up on him, but he saw me and got away. I think it was the same guy who left the note, unless he has a partner.”
“He was right there and you let him get away?” Branson retorted. “Come on, Liv, get your head in the game! What happened? You usually can catch a perp.”
“I know, and I’m sorry.” Remorse sunk in. “But you should have seen this guy run. Even though he was tall and big, he ran like an athlete. He outran me easily. I had nothing on him. I had no chance.”
“Well, I hope you get a second chance.” He bit into something again. She pictured him sitting at his big desk, a typical salami sandwich on his belly, crumbs falling as usual.
“I just really wish I could have some help here.”
“No can do. You know we’d lose the people’s trust, and then we’d get nowhere. You’ve got this, Liv. I believe in you.” She detected a hint of sarcasm in his voice.
“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“But seriously, I do believe you can do this. That’s why I sent you. Look, just call me when you have a real update. Okay? And, you know, on second thought, if things don’t start progressing, I might just have to send in more detectives. Maybe Jeff. It might be our only option.”
“I understand, Captain.”
“Yeah. Later, Liv.”
She hung up, disappointed in herself. She wanted to progress further into her investigation, but it was so hard working alone. She was so used to working with Jeff. If he came here, the people would become even more suspicious, then she’d have to work against them. Thanks to Diana, some of them already thought she was the killer. If she brought a friend in, they might think he was an accomplice. Or they would realize he was a detective and not reveal any more information about the murders.
And then the killer would probably realize Jeff wasn’t Amish, but that he was a detective, and possibly lash out in anger because he had told Liv to stop snooping around.
No, she had to do this on her own.
*
The man liked the way darkness covered the farmland like a shroud as he crept along the sides of houses, shying away from the revealing moonlight like a cockroach running when a light is turned on. Darkness made him feel safe, and he didn’t want to be caught. And he wouldn’t be. He was smarter and faster than all of them.
Especially Olivia, who had tried to chase him down when he had tried to break into the Troyer boy’s house. What had she been doing out there in the middle of the night anyway? Snooping around again?
That Olivia Mast. That foolish detective. She thought she had him fooled into thinking she was an Amish woman instead of a cop. Ha!
He shook his head. She’d pay for the sins she had committed. That he would make sure of. He would hate to hurt her. She was so beautiful, and soon she would be his, but she still needed to pay.
He approached the Johnsons’ house gingerly, first trying the front door where he had entered when he had shot the stupid bishop who had let him right in. Some people were just too naïve for their own good.
It was locked. No surprise. He didn’t blame Mrs. Johnson for locking her door now that her husband had been murdered. But this was no obstacle for him. He easily picked the lock.
He crept through the kitchen, then past Mrs. Johnson’s bedroom. He peered through the doorway and watched the older woman sleep, so unaware that her daughter was about to leave her to be with him. She would probably wake up in the morning and panic, but maybe she would eventually realize this was for the best. That Jill belonged with him, not her.
He shook his head at the oblivious sleeping form and tiptoed into Jill’s room.
The moonlight illuminated the blonde hair around her angelic face like a halo. The little girl looked so peaceful in her bed, and for several moments the man stood in her doorway and watched her sleep, her chest rising up and down to the rhythm of her dreams. Perhaps she was dreaming about him. Though she had not seen his face, maybe in some other celestial world they had met before and her soul remembered.
He stepped toward her, pulled the bottle of chloroform f
rom his pocket, and dampened his cloth with it. Then he clamped it over her nose and mouth.
Her brown eyes popped open, and she struggled. She thrashed and tried to kick the blankets off her, her small fists pushing against him, futile as feathers against his burly arm.
“It’s all right, Ava. You’re safe now. I’ll keep you safe,” he whispered.
Her fighting slowed, and her body went limp. Her lovely eyes closed and she slipped back into unconsciousness.
She was his Ava, and it was time for him to take her to be with him, like a knight whisking a princess away to a castle. Then maybe the voices in his head would stop, the bad memories would cease. Maybe for once he would know what peace was.
He picked up her small body and carried her in his arms gently, smiling at the way her face rested against his chest. He would never let anyone hurt her again. Never.
He carried her out of the house and into the night, toward his safe place that waited for her.
As for that detective, he had had enough of her meddling and snooping around. It was time to scare her with more than just a note, then maybe she would back off.
*
Something had jolted Liv awake. She bolted out of bed, clutched her weapon, and peered out the window. Had she heard something?
There. A noise outside. Was someone trying to break into the house?
Not on her watch.
She dashed out her bedroom door and flew silently down the stairs. She stopped in the kitchen and listened for any movement within the house. Or had the noise come from outside? Perhaps she had heard someone trying to open a window or pick a lock on a door. It was as silent as a morgue in the house. She carefully opened the front door, hoping it wouldn’t creak, and listened outside. The night seemed still, except for the staccato song of the crickets and the soft whooshing of passing cars from beyond the end of the lane. Maybe she was being paranoid.
Or not. Something caught her eye, something around the side of the house. She raised her pistol and stepped quietly down the porch steps, making her way around the corner of the house. As she followed the danger, her pulse quickened, yet anticipation rose within her. Maybe she would catch the killer tonight.