by Debby Giusti
All the memories came back to haunt her.
She closed the folder and threw it aside, unable to look at the deceitful face that sprouted lies and hate.
A photo she never thought she’d see.
A photo of evil itself.
A photo of Jacob Yoder.
NINETEEN
Becca had to get a grip on herself. She was feeling emotional and needy, which wasn’t like her at all. Maybe it was lack of sleep or concern about the investigation or her standing with Chief Wilson. Although more than likely, it was her relationship with Colby.
She’s spent too much time this morning stewing over her own mistakes. She needed to buck up and move on. Plus, she needed to contact Mrs. Cameron.
“How can I help you, ma’am?” she asked once the general’s wife answered her call.
“I need someone to take the layout of the market stalls to Bishop Zimmerman. Unfortunately, I’m tied up with a Thrift Shop board meeting. The bishop enjoyed talking to you, and I thought you might be able to help me out.”
Becca reached for the discarded folder containing Jacob’s photo, feeling a sudden burst of energy.
“Yes, ma’am. I’ll be glad to deliver the market overview to the bishop.”
Hurrying to the copy machine, Becca reproduced Jacob’s likeness and dropped a stack of print outs on Sergeant Otis’s desk.
“These photos need to be distributed to the military police on post, Ray. Can you let them know Jacob Yoder is a possible suspect in the BOQ explosion?”
“No problem, ma’am, except Special Agent Voss had me email that very same photo to the provost marshal’s office so the MPs already have it.”
“You talked to Colby?”
“Yes, ma’am. He’s still on the road heading to Harmony, Alabama, but he had me notify on-post law enforcement as well the Freemont police who also have the photo. Plus Special Agent Voss put in a be-on-the-lookout order to the Georgia Highway Patrol.”
“There’s a BOLO out on Jacob Yoder?”
“Yes, ma’am. Anything else you need me to do?”
“No. Thank you, Ray.” She turned and headed for the door. “It’s seems Special Agent Voss has thought of everything,”
Everything except including her in the investigation.
Becca was mad enough to cry, but she’d already shed too many tears today. Instead, she’d focus on the Amish community and the widow who could be in danger.
Stopping at Quarters One, she picked up the packet containing the plans and layout for the marketplace, and hurried off post. The bishop was cordial when she arrived at his farmhouse. Mrs. Zimmerman invited her inside for a cup of coffee and a piece of pound cake. The offer was tempting, but Becca declined, wanting to talk privately to the bishop.
He walked her to her car and stared into the distance for a long moment before he spoke.
“I talked to Fannie Lehman,” he finally said. “The widow had someone helping her. An Amish man from up north. He stayed in her barn for only a few days and is gone now.”
“Along with his car?”
The bishop nodded. “That is what she told me.”
“Did the widow provide a name?”
“Ezekiel Lapp.”
Jacob was using his brother’s first name and the new last name he had chosen in Ohio.
“And the dogs?”
“They left with him.”
“Was she telling the truth, Bishop?”
“I did not question her honesty. That is something Gott will decide.”
“She’s in danger.”
“The widow does not believe he will hurt her.”
“You need to warn her. Jacob Yoder is an evil man. He knows how to tempt women. He’s killed before. He will kill again.”
Becca pulled out a number of copies of Jacob’s picture from a folder in her car. “This is his photo. He preys on unsuspecting women, but he has killed others. I suggest you distribute these copies to the Amish families. Make sure Mrs. Lehman sees it as well. I have a strong suspicion this is the man who helped her.”
“I do not want violence to upset our way of life. Keep your pictures, Becca. I will pray for God to protect us.”
”You’ll need more than prayers,” Becca insisted. “You need to warn the Amish community, and especially Mrs. Lehman, about Jacob Yoder.”
Becca felt a sense of foreboding as she drove away from the bishop’s farm. Fannie Lehman was in danger. The bishop, as well as the widow, needed to realize that having a relationship with Jacob Yoder could be deadly.
Becca knew that only too well.
* * *
The drive to Harmony seemed especially long and boring. Maybe it was because Colby kept thinking about Becca and wondering how he could mend their broken relationship. He had called her a number of times, but her cell kept going to voice mail.
At least now they had a photo of Jacob Yoder. With a BOLO order in effect, law enforcement across the state would be on high alert for the Amish man and his Crown Vic. Hopefully, he’d be tracked down and brought to justice. That is, if he wasn’t buried in the Amish cemetery. There were still too many unanswered questions.
On a whim, Colby had hooked up his GPS, which directed him a new way. He skirted Harmony and drove into a rather expansive subdivision of three-and four-bedroom homes. The community looked comfortable and family friendly and, from the sign on the side of the road, claimed to be a Tucker Reynolds development. Whoever Tucker was, he seemed to be succeeding in this otherwise stagnant economy.
The far end of the housing complex butted up against the Amish community. Colby turned left out of the subdivision and soon spied Lewis and his backhoe. The sheriff’s car was parked on the side of the hill along with three other vehicles.
A gathering of men stood watching nearby.
Colby parked and greeted the sheriff.
“There’s been a delay with the court order,” Lewis said as they shook hands.
“I thought you had the go-ahead.”
“The mayor claims exhuming the bodies is a waste of taxpayer money. He’s talking to the judge as we speak.”
Colby looked around the pristine landscape and the rows of graves, each with a small cement marker. The one near where they stood bore the name Yoder.
“Is there something going on I don’t know about? Something more than revenue?”
“The mayor’s got his own way of doing things in this town. We’ve clashed on more than one occasion. In my opinion, he’s not interested in what’s best for Harmony. His focus is on his construction company and the huge track of homes he’s developed and expanded over the years.” Lewis pointed in the direction Colby had come.
“I just drove through one of his subdivisions.”
Lewis nodded. “His property runs right up against some of the Amish farms. When they go to foreclosure, he makes a phone call to the bank manager, who happens to be a good friend.”
“I thought the Amish hold on to their land and pass the farms on to their children,” Colby said.
“They try to, but taxes have gone up significantly, and we had some years of drought. A bad crop can make all the difference for a farmer these days. Plus McDougal’s his right-hand man. He likes to threaten the Amish with what could happen.”
“McDougal? You mean the former sheriff?”
“One and the same. He started working for Tucker shortly after he retired.”
“How does the mayor’s interest in real estate have anything to do with the court order?”
“I’m not sure, but if we don’t hear from the judge soon, I’ll head back to town and talk to him myself.”
He looked at Colby. “I could use some backup and would appreciate your support. Having the military involved gives more weight to the situati
on.”
“You’ve got it.”
Lewis pulled out his phone and hit one of the prompts. “Helene, see when I can get in to talk to Judge Clark.” He nodded. “Call me back.”
A buggy clip-clopped along the nearby road. Colby recognized the woman sitting next to the blond, muscular man leading the horses. Sarah Hershberger. She averted her gaze. Evidently she still hadn’t told her husband about Jacob’s brother or Colby and Becca’s visit.
“Excuse me for a moment.” Lewis hustled to where the buggy had stopped on the side of the road. He and the blond man spoke for a few minutes.
“It’s Samuel Hershberger,” Lewis said when he returned to the gravesite. “You know his wife, Sarah.”
Colby nodded. “Did you ever question her about Jacob’s brother?”
“Once when she was in town to buy fabric. Samuel wasn’t with her, which was fortunate. He might not appreciate a wife who wasn’t completely forthright with her husband.”
“What did he want today?”
“He asked why we were disturbing the dead.”
“Did you tell him?”
Lewis nodded. “He wasn’t happy, but then he’s carrying a lot of worry, trying to keep afloat and concerned he’ll lose the farm.”
“More property for the mayor?” Colby asked.
“I hope not. Samuel works as one of our local volunteer firemen to help pay his bills. He’s a good man and an asset to the community.”
Samuel flicked the reins, and the buggy continued along the road. Sarah glanced back at Colby and nodded her head ever so slightly as if to thank him for keeping her secret.
Lewis’s phone rang again. “What’d you find out?” A scowl covered his face. “Not until then?”
He let out a stiff breath. “Okay. Confirm that I’ll be there.”
He disconnected and turned to Colby. “The judge can’t see me until late afternoon. Can you stick around?”
“I’ll have to.”
But Colby didn’t like killing time in Harmony, when he needed to talk to Becca. He tried her cell again and sighed with frustration when she didn’t answer.
He’d get back to post too late to see her tonight. Tomorrow was the farmers’ market. He would seek her out first thing in the morning, but she’d be busy with security issues. The longer he waited the more likely she wouldn’t be interested in listening to what he had to say.
The court order was important, and he’d have to bide his time. Would Becca talk to him when he returned to post? Or was their relationship over before it had even gotten started?
* * *
Becca parked in front of Fannie Lehman’s house and checked her phone, noticing the missed calls from Colby. As much as she wanted to talk to him, she couldn’t. Not now, not until they were face-to-face. She needed to be able to gauge his reaction when she apologized for her actions the other night. She also wanted to question him about leaving her out of the investigation. Of course, Colby was just following Wilson’s orders, yet she still felt the sting of humiliation, especially because Colby had been in the chief’s office when she’d been counseled on her inappropriate actions. They’d have an opportunity to talk after the investigation was closed and Jacob was brought to justice. Until then, Becca needed to stay away from Colby to protect herself and her heart.
Glancing at the farmhouse, she eased her car door open and listened for the dogs. All she heard was the rustle of the wind in the trees and a few birds who chirped a greeting.
Grabbing one of the printouts from her folder, she stepped to the roadway and flicked her gaze to the barn. Just as before, the door hung open.
No car. No dogs. Hopefully no Jacob Yoder, either.
She climbed the rickety stairs to the front porch and knocked. Once. Twice. Three times.
“Mrs. Lehman, I just came from seeing Bishop Zimmerman. There’s something I need to show you.”
Evidently the bishop’s name pulled weight. The door creaked open. Becca recognized Fannie Lehman as the same woman who had stared at her from the barn raising.
She flashed her identification, introduced herself and shoved the printout in Mrs. Lehman’s face before the widow had a chance to reconsider and retreat back into her house.
“Is this the man who was staying here?” Becca asked.
The widow’s gaze narrowed. Her hands shook ever so slightly as she stared down at the photo.
“He’s dangerous, Mrs. Lehman, and he preys on women living alone.”
“Ezekiel is a good man,” the widow finally said.
“He’s fooling you and trying to win your trust. Then he’ll take your valuables and leave you with nothing.”
“I do not think this is true.”
“You don’t have to think, Mrs. Lehman. I know for sure. He’s killed women. You are in grave danger. Is there someone you can move in with? Do you have family in the area?”
“I am alone.”
“Come with me then. I’ll find someplace safe for you to stay?”
The widow shook her head and gave the paper back to Becca. “You must leave now.”
“Please listen to me, Mrs. Lehman.”
“I have heard you. Now I must prepare my needlework for the market tomorrow.”
“You’ll be at Fort Rickman in the morning? We can talk more then.” Hopefully, the widow would change her mind about accepting help. “I’ll contact the Freemont police and ask them to keep your house under surveillance tonight.”
If only the widow had a phone or a gun.
“Lock your doors, ma’am, and don’t let Jacob—or Ezekiel—in. If you see him, hide until he leaves, then hurry to the bishop’s house. He and his wife will help you.”
“Do not worry about me, Special Agent Miller. Worry about yourself.”
The widow closed the door.
Becca returned to her car, thinking of how easily someone like Jacob could pray upon the Amish. Fannie Lehman wasn’t willing to accept help. That self-sufficiently had probably been drummed into her since she was a little girl.
Glancing back, she saw the curtain move ever so slightly and knew the widow was watching.
The older woman had a mind of her own.
Independence or stupidity?
Becca wasn’t sure, but one thing was certain. She and Fannie were a lot alike.
TWENTY
Saturday dawned cold and damp, not the ideal setting for the first farmers’ market and craft fair. Mrs. Cameron had hoped for blue skies and sunshine, but even the general’s wife couldn’t control the weather.
Becca’s mood matched the gray sky. She had slept little if at all. Her thoughts had been on Colby and the way she felt wrapped in his embrace. Not that she would ever know that feeling again. Anything that might have developed was over between them, no matter how much she wished otherwise.
Her heart was heavy when she arrived at the grassy knoll ahead of schedule. Located near the Fort Rickman Museum and nearby river, the expansive area was filled with newly erected booths, all painted white.
Many of the Amish families had already arrived in their buggies. The horses and rigs were in a special spot behind the cordoned-off site reserved for automobile parking.
The military had provided trucks and transported the larger items for sale. Finely designed tables and benches stood near dollhouses and rocking chairs. The Amish men had arranged the pieces for display while the women hung beautiful quilts and crocheted lap blankets in the various stalls.
In other booths, spring cuttings and winter vegetables sat next to Mason jars filled with colorful jams and jellies.
An assortment of homemade breads and cakes and pies made Becca’s mouth water as she walked around the perimeter of the market and examined the wares. She bought a cinnamon roll that melted in her mouth an
d washed it down with a cup of coffee the Army Community Services was selling to raise money for some of their on-post programs.
Slowly the area started to come alive as more people from both the English and Amish communities arrived. From what Becca could tell, the committee members spearheading the event handled their jobs with great attention to detail, and the day promised to be a success in spite of the less than perfect weather.
Becca briefed the military police she had requested to help with security and passed out copies of Jacob’s photograph. Although she wanted everyone to know who to be watching for in the crowd, she also stressed the importance of maintaining good relationships with the Amish. Her final instruction was to check with her before confronting anyone who might fit Jacob’s description.
Glancing at her watch, she stamped her feet against the chill. The earth was damp with dew, and a breeze tugged at her jacket. At least she had donned slacks and a heavy sweater.
Colby was probably still in his BOQ, catching a few extra winks of shut-eye this Saturday morning. Maybe he would appear later, although she almost hoped he wouldn’t. She had a job to do and didn’t want to be distracted by the handsome agent who had woven his way into her heart.
As much as Becca wanted to apologize for her actions, she knew the night before last had been a turning point. Maybe a stopping point would be a better term to use. Colby had been perfectly clear that he wanted to keep everything professional. He was right, of course, yet she still regretted what had happened. Even more than that, she regretted losing Colby.
Mrs. Cameron approached her. “Everything seems to be going as planned, Becca. The security team has been most helpful, and I’m sure we won’t have any problems today.”
“That’s my hope, ma’am. What time is General Cameron planning to arrive?”
“His opening remarks are scheduled for nine. He had some papers to sign at his office, but I’m sure he’ll be here soon. The band’s getting ready to warm up, and the children’s choir from the Main Post Chapel is on its way.”