Undercover Amish (Covert Police Detectives Unit Series Book 1)

by Ashley Emma

  When she came around the side of the house, no one was there. She looked around the other side of the house, and there was nothing. She stood absolutely still, listening to the sounds of the night.

  A bush rustled near the edge of the woods. Maybe it was a squirrel, but she had to be sure. The perp could be long gone by now. She approached the bush gingerly, gun raised, along with the hairs on the back of her neck. The bush shook again. Something was definitely there. Or someone.

  “Police! Come out now with your hands up,” she commanded.

  The bush next to that one rustled, and now the movement was closer to her. A cat shrieked and lunged out of the bush, chasing some kind of small rodent into the night. It happened so fast, she couldn’t even tell what kind of rodent it was.

  She lowered her pistol, sighing, finally relaxing a little. The stupid cat had probably knocked one of Mary’s flower pots over on the porch and woke her up. She was overreacting, over paranoid, jumping at every little noise. She was about to turn back towards the house when a large hand clamped a damp, sweet smelling cloth over her mouth. Chloroform.

  Panic shot through her as she kicked and punched the attacker, then grated the slide of her weapon over his knuckles, trying to hurt him enough to let go, but he wore gloves. She tried to bite the gloved hands, but it was no use. He felt huge, easily overpowering her. She held her breath, knowing once she inhaled, she would become unconscious.

  Don’t breathe, don’t breathe in! she told herself as her lungs burned. She remembered how Jeff had once remarked that if someone held their breath when someone was trying to knock them out with chloroform, then pretended to become unconscious, it might give them the break they needed to escape. It sounded like a good idea.

  She fought and flailed and twisted in his bulky arms, then let herself go limp, closing her eyes, still holding the gun loosely in her hand. The man supported her weight easily, then set her down on the ground gently. She opened her eyes so slightly that he wouldn’t notice, trying to see his face, but it was hidden by a ski mask.

  “Finally, we are together,” he crooned in a deep voice, sending chills slithering over her body. “I’ve waited so long to be with you.”

  Finally? Waited so long? What was he talking about? Her mind screamed the questions, but she remained motionless.

  “Now I will take you away so we can be together forever. You, me, and her.”

  No way. Not ever. She knew once she let him move her, she might not survive. Before he could react, she swung her handgun up and whacked him in the head as hard as she could.

  He let out a string of curses and staggered back. She had been hoping to knock him out, but she must not have hit him hard enough. Now that there were a few feet in between them, she aimed her gun at him.

  “Freeze. Move and I will shoot.”

  He hesitated for only a second, then dashed into the woods. She ran after him, unable to shoot in the black of the night. In the darkness, she couldn’t see him, but she could hear the sound of twigs snapping as he ran. She would never hit him if she fired.

  “No!” she shouted. He was right there! He was like a ghost, vanishing into thin air, and lightning fast. It was almost inhuman. How was she supposed to catch someone like that?

  But Branson had picked her to come here because he knew she was capable. At some point the perp would mess up, and when he did, she’d be ready.

  As she sulked back to the house and slipped back into her room, the man’s words reverberated through her mind. What had he meant by finally being with her and waiting so long? And what other woman had he been referring to when he had said, “You, me, and her?”

  She didn’t know, but she had to stop him before he harmed anyone else.

  He might not realize she was an undercover police detective yet, but he might figure it out soon. He may have heard her announce who she was to the cat. Besides, why else would an Amish woman have a gun?

  *

  The next morning, Liv attacked the kitchen floor with a sponge like it was a criminal while Aunt Mary washed the breakfast dishes.

  “Thanks for that. You know, no matter how many times I clean that floor, it always just gets dirty again soon after. Sometimes I think, why wash it at all?” Aunt Mary laughed.

  “Sounds like a plan to me.” Liv chuckled and scrubbed with even more determination. The least she could do for this family was help them with cleaning.

  “Did you hear?” Maria busted through the door, running into the kitchen with her boots still on.

  “Hey! I’m washing the floor! Get your boots off,” Liv ordered with a laugh, waving her dripping sponge, then saw the look on Maria’s face. Suddenly the floor seemed unimportant. “What’s wrong?”

  “Jill Johnson has been kidnapped! Poor Mrs. Johnson. The murder of her husband is bad enough, but now that her daughter is gone missing we are concerned she might have a nervous breakdown.” Maria sighed and collapsed into a chair at the table.

  “No! That’s horrible! When did it happen?” Liv stood up. The floor would have to wait.

  “Last night.”

  “Did Mrs. Johnson see anything?”

  “Nothing. She woke up and Jill was gone.”

  “That is terrible!” Aunt Mary exclaimed.

  So caught up in their own conversation, Maria and Aunt Mary didn’t even seem to notice when Liv slipped out of the house. She ran toward the shanty and pulled her phone out of her holster, dialing Branson’s number. It rang once before he picked up.

  “Yeah,” he muttered.

  “It’s Liv. Remember Bishop Johnson, the man who was shot in his home? Well, his daughter Jill went missing last night.”

  “What? Now we’re talking about a kidnapping? Did you question the mother?”

  “Listen, my cousin told me Mrs. Johnson didn’t hear or see a thing, and I believe her. Besides, if I go question her, she’ll just get suspicious.”

  “Okay, so what’s your plan?”

  “I really think Samuel Sullivan took her. His initials were on a hat we found at the scene of Sid Hoffman’s barn fire, and then there was the word ‘help’ written on his window. He might be trying to frame me. I’d like your permission to tell Isaac the truth about me so I can get him to help me solve this. He was best friends with Samuel as a child, and he knows him a lot better than I do. Maybe he knows something helpful.”

  “Won’t Isaac hate you for lying to him?”

  “That’s the thing. The Amish don’t hold grudges, and they always forgive. He might be mad at first, but he’ll get over it and then he’ll help me, hopefully. Even if he just gave me some information it would help.”

  “He better not tell anyone anything,” Branson warned.

  “Don’t worry. He’s trustworthy.”

  The captain sighed. “Okay, I guess it’s a better alternative than bringing in Jeff. Besides, Officer Martin is busy on another case. Just make sure Troyer doesn’t blow your cover.”

  “He won’t,” she assured him.

  “Fine. Call me later.”

  She hung up and went to find Isaac. It was Saturday, so he’d be home.

  She jogged over to his house and knocked on the door. He opened it and smiled, then his smile fell. “What’s the matter, Liv?”

  Was she that bad at hiding her feelings? Did her fear show through that easily? He did know her well.

  When she didn’t answer, he pulled her inside. He had been cleaning, she could see. The broom was out, along with cleaning supplies and rags.

  “Liv, what is it?” he asked her again, pulling out a chair for her. She eased into it, trying to choose her words.

  “Did you know Jill was kidnapped last night?”

  “No! That’s horrible,” he cried, plopping into another chair. “Her mother must be worried sick.”

  Liv nodded. “Isaac, I think I know who kidnapped Jill.”

  Isaac gave her a skeptical sideways look. “What?”

  “There’s something I’ve got to tell you. You’re n
ot going to like it, but right now I need you to put aside your emotions because I desperately need your help. We only have a certain amount of time left.” With every passing hour, Jill’s chance of survival decreased. After twenty-four hours, the chances of finding Jill alive would be small.

  He leaned forward. “Liv, you can tell me anything.”

  He had no idea.

  She dove right in. “I’m a detective. I work at Covert Police Detectives Unit.” She closed her eyes, anticipation and regret seeping through her. Please, God, don’t let him hate me.

  “What?” He leaned back into the chair and laughed. “Is this some kind of joke?”

  “No. I was sent here to investigate Bill Sullivan’s murder and the other crimes that have occurred. I go undercover to investigate crimes.” She pulled up her skirt and Isaac flinched, looking away. She knew he would think it was improper to see her knee, but it only took a second for her to grab her badge and weapon and toss them onto the table.

  She expected him to run from the gun, but he stayed put, staring at the glinting badge.

  “You’re serious,” he murmured. “You lied to me this whole time? About us?” His voice rose. His face turned red, and he got up and started pacing.

  “Listen, Isaac, I dated you as part of my cover, yes. But that doesn’t mean I don’t actually care about you,” she pleaded. “Please, you have to believe me.”

  “It doesn’t even matter because you’re going to leave again, aren’t you? After this case is solved?” He whipped around. “You’re going to leave me again?”

  She weighed her options, biting her lip. She had to get him to help her, which meant she would have to lie to him again to keep him interested, to prevent him from dumping her. “No. I actually am considering joining the faith for good after this assignment is over.”

  “Really, Liv?” he asked gently, coming back to his chair. He grabbed her hand. “That’s wonderful.”

  “I mean, I’d have to learn a lot more about God again. I’d like to have a better relationship with Him.” That much was not a lie. She had indeed forgotten much of what she had learned about God growing up, and she missed how close she had been to Him.

  “I’ll help you, I promise.” Isaac ran his thumb over her hand so tenderly she sighed. His touch sent invisible sparks up her arm once more.

  “But still, you lied to me.” He turned away and stood up again. She knew he was confused right now, so she gave him space. “But I guess I understand. It just really hurts, that’s all.”

  “I know. But really, Isaac, I need you to help me. I need information on Samuel Sullivan. You were friends with him when you were children. I need you to tell me anything helpful that you know about him. Okay? It could help us find Jill. It could save her life.”

  “All right. Could I pray first? I just need to clear my head or I won’t be able to think straight. Just for a few minutes.” He was already brushing his fingers over the doorknob.

  Every second was precious, but she figured he deserved a minute after the shock she had just put him through. “Okay, but hurry back. We have work to do.”

  He slipped out, and she found a pen and paper and began to write. But after a few minutes, she threw down the pen. Her list of suspects was short.

  Where was he? Couldn’t he forget his pain for five minutes to help her save Jill?

  She got up and stomped outside.

  “Isaac, come back!” she shouted into the woods. She knew he was in there. That was his favorite place to be.

  *

  “Oh, God, please tell me what to do.”

  Isaac crashed through the trees, crunching fallen twigs and dead leaves carelessly as he walked, distracted by his own grief.

  “What if she leaves again? I just don’t think I could bear to see her leave a second time. I want to spend the rest of my life with her.”

  She was going to leave. He just knew it. Liv wouldn’t ever want to live here.

  He collapsed onto the ground and sobbed, pain wracking his chest, gripping him tighter with every passing moment like talons clutching a small, helpless animal. He wiped his tears and looked up at the sky. The thought of losing her again was unbearable. And he had the feeling she was lying about staying.

  “Why did You bring her back into my life just to take her away again?” he demanded. “It doesn’t make sense.”

  His tears eventually slowed, and as he wiped them on his sleeve he looked around at the beauty surrounding him. The woods usually comforted him, but today it wasn’t enough. He sat still and listened to the community that lived here, just as complex as his own. The skittering squirrels, the birds in the trees, and the bugs crawling on the ground. The woods teemed with life and sounds that might go unnoticed to anyone else, but Isaac was aware of every movement and noise.

  Then he heard Liv calling his name.

  She was right, they didn’t have time for this. He pulled himself together and walked back toward his home, kicking himself for delaying their search. Poor Jill must be terrified, and here he was wallowing in his own trivial sadness.

  Jill needed his help, and he would do whatever he could to help Liv find her.

  He stepped out of the tree line and saw a dark, sinister figure creeping towards Liv as she called for him, completely unaware of the intruder.

  “Liv!” he screamed, but it was too late.

  *

  Liv growled with annoyance. Yes, she would be mad too if someone had lied to her like that, but hadn’t Isaac had enough time?

  “Isaac!” she shouted again.

  Isaac came out of the woods and screamed her name. Why did he sound so panicked?

  A large gloved hand clamped over her mouth, cutting off her scream. Her eyes widened in panic, her heart rate tripling.

  Choking back her fear, ignoring her insides twisting with terror, she brought up her elbow and smashed it in his face as hard as she could, impacting his nose.

  While he was recovering, he stumbled a little and she took the opportunity to turn and hit him with a right hook, then she kicked him as hard as she could. He staggered again, and she tried to get her firearm out of its holster. Though she didn’t want to kill him, she was only supposed to shoot to kill when necessary. It was against her unit’s protocol to shoot to injure.

  Her skirt got caught in the holster and suddenly the masked man was back on her. He put her in a chokehold and knocked her down. Her head hit the ground with a thud.

  Pain exploded in her skull, rattling her mind as he pinned her down. The world spun, and she fought to remain conscious.

  Please, God, don’t let him kill me. Her thoughts blurred and ran together. Where was Isaac when she needed him? Not that he’d be much use right now anyway. He didn’t even believe in self-defense.

  “I told you to stay away, girl!” the attacker seethed, pinning her down by the shoulders. She could feel his hot breath on her face. “Stop snooping around!” He sounded as if he was purposely trying to make his voice sound different. Since it sounded so deep and hoarse, he sure didn’t sound like Samuel, but some people were good at disguising their voices.

  “Liv!” Isaac shouted as he approached.

  She felt for her .45 and loosened it out of the holster while the man still held her down.

  Finally.

  As the perp was distracted by Isaac’s voice, Liv gripped her pistol and started to lift it, but he knocked the gun out of her hand.

  While she lunged for the gun and stood, he bolted toward the trees.

  Chapter Twelve

  “Stop or I will shoot!” Liv shouted.

  When the criminal kept running, she shot at him. The gunfire echoed off the tree line through the fields, but she missed as he disappeared into the woods.

  As Isaac ran, he fixed his gaze on her, admiring her bravery. She stood firm, feet planted, skirt billowing around her, kapp skewed sideways. Dirt smudged her determined face and her clothes, but she didn’t seem to notice.

  She was dangerous with that wea
pon, but for some reason that made her extremely attractive.

  And he loved her even more.

  Again, he hated himself for not being there for her. He had been carrying his gun, and maybe he could have shot at the perp to protect Liv. But would he have had the courage to do it—one of the things the Amish were most against?

  Was he willing to be shunned in order to protect the woman he loved?

  He knew without a doubt that he was. He would have done it. But he hadn’t had the chance because of his silly emotions.

  I will never make that mistake again.

  *

  Liv wanted to throw her gun down on the ground in frustration, but she refrained.

  “Liv! Are you okay?” Isaac asked as he ran over.

  “I’m fine. Come on, let’s get inside.”

  Yanking on Isaac’s wrist, she tugged on him firmly, practically dragging him to the other side of the house and through the front door. Isaac locked it and pushed his couch in front of it because his door didn’t have a lock.

  Liv went to the living room window and peeked out. “This guy is like a ghost. He is so fast I can’t even get close to him, and I’m pretty fast. He leaves no evidence. He just sneaks around, killing at will. He’s trying to scare me so I’ll stop investigating.”

  “Is it working?” Isaac gave her a sideways glance.

  “No. Of course not,” she retorted.

  Isaac wrapped her in his arms so tight she feared he’d fracture one of her ribs. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there. I heard you call me, but I was just being selfish. I should have come back—”

  “It’s okay, Isaac. Really, don’t worry about it,” she muttered into his chest. “Now stop your blubbering and go over there so we can still watch for him out the windows.”

  He stepped back and moved to peek out the front kitchen window, and Liv stood by the edge of the back window in the living room.

  “What did he do to you?” Isaac asked, not taking his eyes off the kitchen window.

  “Well, first he politely asked me how I was doing, then he asked me if I like knitting.”