by Debby Giusti
Noah explained about his pickup being shoved onto the tracks as the oncoming train neared.
“Did you see the driver?”
“Unfortunately the windows were tinted. I called your office after it happened and talked to the clerk,” Noah said. “I doubt it was a coincidence since so many things have been occurring. Someone’s trying to frighten Mrs. Eicher.”
“And they are succeeding,” she admitted.
“The dispatcher relayed the information about the red truck to the deputies on patrol. No one has seen the truck, but we’ll continue to be on the lookout.”
“You’ll let us know if you locate the truck and the driver?” Noah asked.
“Definitely. Have any other problems developed?”
“The man returned last night.” Ruthie explained about the cut chicken coop and the threat spray-painted on the henhouse.
“One of our patrol cars was up there around nine p.m. before the storm hit. He didn’t see anything amiss.”
“What about the movie studio?” Noah asked.
“The head of the studio met with the mayor this morning. I spoke with the studio director following their meeting. He’s working hard to ensure a good partnership with the townspeople and was concerned to hear about violence on the mountain. He’ll have his security team on the lookout for anyone matching your description.”
“Did you mention the tattoos on the man’s arm?” Ruthie asked.
“I did. In the past, we didn’t see many heavily tattooed folks in town, but that’s changed over time, and even more so since the movie studio moved to the area. The head of the studio assured me his security folks will question anyone who seems suspect, and he’ll call me if they uncover anything.”
“Their cell coverage must be better than mine,” Noah mused.
“They put up a tower to solve that problem. You’re situated on the wrong side of the mountain.”
“Evidently.”
“What about the man who has been living in the woods?” Ruthie asked.
“The one who returned your dropped envelope?”
“Yah, did you get a chance to question him?”
“We searched the woods, but he had cleared out of his campsite and was gone. Those transient types don’t hang around long, especially when they know they’re not welcome.”
“Maybe he headed back up Amish Mountain,” she mused.
“Give us time, Mrs. Eicher. We’ll find your attacker and take him into custody.”
Noah explained about overhearing the argument between Castle and Burkholder. He also mentioned that the receptionist in the real-estate office claimed Burkholder was part of Prescott Construction.
“Well, isn’t that interesting.” The deputy pulled on his jaw. “Does Burkholder want your land for his own personal reasons, or is he acting as a front for Mr. Castle?”
“That’s what I’ve been wondering,” Noah admitted.
“Either way, you folks need to let us handle this from here on out. Don’t mess where you’re not wanted. You’ve already got one man coming after you, Mrs. Eicher. I wouldn’t want anyone else to get upset with either of you. We’ll do our job and let you know what we uncover.”
Ruthie’s spirits were low when they left the sheriff’s office. She had hoped the man in the woods was the same man who had accosted her. She wanted him locked up and not able to hurt her or her boys. The deputy said to give law enforcement time, but Ruthie didn’t have time if the man came after her again.
EIGHTEEN
Noah and Ruthie left town and headed north on Wagner Road. The two-lane paved highway meandered through a forested area of tall pines and sturdy hardwoods. Rounding a bend, they came to the foot of a narrow valley that had been cleared of vegetation. Wind whipped down from the mountain, blowing dirt and debris.
“This looks like the middle of the desert instead of the Georgia mountains,” Ruthie said as she eyed the naked land.
“They’ve removed the trees and destroyed the vegetation,” Noah said. “Then they’ll charge new home owners additional fees to landscape their property.”
Signs pointed them to the home office. Noah pulled into the parking lot. “Let’s see if we can find someone who can show us around.”
No sooner had they climbed from the truck than a tall, lanky guy, in his late twenties with red hair, wearing a black polo and khaki slacks, hurried from the office to greet them. Castle Homes was embossed over the pocket on his shirt.
Ruthie eyed the logo as he neared. “Brian Burkholder and the other man we saw at the pizza parlor wore the same shirts.”
“I’m Dave Herschberger.” He shook Noah’s hand and nodded to Ruthie. “You folks looking to buy a home?”
“We stopped at the real-estate office in town,” Noah explained, “and saw a poster for the development.”
“Yes, sir. We’ll have three hundred homes by the time all phases of the project are completed.” He pointed to the office. “You’ll find maps and brochures inside. Also, an artist’s rendering of the entire area.”
“How long before you’re built out?” Noah asked.
“That depends on sales. The homes are moving fast so we anticipate twenty-four months to have the first phase completed.”
“You bought Amish farms?” Ruthie asked.
“Some of the land belonged to the Amish. Other pieces of property belonged to regular folks.” He nodded to Ruthie. “No offense, ma’am. I guess you call us fancy. Mr. Castle pays top dollar. His offers were too good to pass up.”
“Seeing your last name, I wonder if you were raised Amish?” she asked.
“No, ma’am. Fact is my last name’s Hersch. Mr. Castle likes us to use Amish names so we fit in with the local folks. I don’t think it has much bearing on people from Atlanta coming to buy a new home, but from what I heard, it helped convince some of the Amish farmers to sell their land.”
“Yet Mr. Castle did not change his name,” Ruthie said.
“No, ma’am. But then everyone knows Mr. Castle.”
“Did you work with Mr. Castle on his Tennessee housing development?” Noah asked.
“No, sir. I’m from Georgia and started working for him a month ago.”
“By any chance, do you know anything about Prescott Construction?”
The guy shook his head. “Doesn’t sound familiar. I could call our building foreman if you’d like. He might know of the company.”
“Brian Burkholder?”
“That’s right. Do you know him?”
“I’ve just heard the name.” Although Noah would like information about why Burkholder and Prescott Construction wanted land on Amish Mountain.
Dave pointed to the office. “Let’s go inside and get a cool drink while I show you the brochures.”
Noah didn’t want a cool drink, but he wanted to see Castle’s concept for the development.
The air-conditioning was on in the trailer and the thermostat was set low. Ruthie rubbed her arms when she stepped inside.
A three-legged easel held a large poster board with a drawing of the final housing development. The town of Willkommen could be seen to the south of the site, with Amish Mountain in the distance to the west.
Noah stepped closer, noticing a large central area colored blue. “Is that a lake?”
“Yes, sir. That’s one of the main drawing cards for our development. A two-hundred-acre man-made lake, perfect for fishing or boating. A beach will be on the eastern edge with picnic grounds. Plus, there’s a playground, pool and tennis courts nearby.”
“The developer thought of everything.”
“‘Your home is your castle—’” Dave began, reciting the builder’s motto.
“‘In a Castle home,’” Noah interrupted, finishing for him.
The guy smiled and handed both of them brochures. “There’s a map of
the home sites. Why don’t you folks take a look around?”
“You mentioned calling your foreman about Prescott Construction.”
“That’s right.” He tapped a number into his phone, waited for a moment and then shook his head. “He’s not answering. I’ll contact John Zimmerman. He’s the assistant foreman.”
This time the call connected. “John, I’ve got a couple interested customers here at the office who will be looking around the site. One of them wondered if you knew anything about Prescott Construction.” The redhead nodded. “I see.” He smiled at Noah. “I’ll tell him.” Another pause. “That’s right.”
Dave disconnected and stuck his phone in his pocket. “John knows of the company. Evidently someone took it over not too long ago. Prescott Construction is headquartered in Tennessee.”
“Did the assistant foreman work on Mr. Castle’s home development near Chattanooga?”
“No, sir. He came onboard when this project was in the early stages. I’ve heard him talk about the dam in Chattanooga a few times so he might have worked on the dam but not Castle’s housing project.”
Noah’s neck tingled. “How was he involved?”
“Seems he mentioned the concrete supplier.”
The concrete that had failed to hold. Whether it was poorly designed or poorly constructed would take a long time for the inspectors to determine. Until their investigation was final, Noah was suspicious of anyone tied to the dam.
He tried to place the assistant foreman. “What’s Zimmerman look like?”
Dave shrugged. “About my height. Brown hair.” He glanced at a poster on the wall. “There’s a photo of both the foreman and the assistant foreman.”
Noah and Ruthie moved closer. “He was the man we saw eating pizza with Brian Burkholder,” she said to Noah.
He nodded. The two guys sitting in the corner.
Both men were tall with dark hair and dressed in the same Castle uniform that Dave wore. Standing in the foreground was Vince Ashcroft. The real-estate agent was shaking hands with Floyd Castle.
Noah leaned in closer and read the names identifying each person. Assistant foreman John Zimmerman and foreman Brian Burkholder.
Everyone used a German last name. Noah motioned Dave closer. “You’re telling me the foreman’s name is really Brian Burk.”
The man smiled sheepishly, as if realizing he had said too much. “Ah, no, sir. The foreman’s last name is really Burkholder.”
“What about Zimmerman? Is his real name Zimmer?”
Dave laughed nervously. “Look, it may sound strange, but Mr. Castle knows the little things that make a difference when you’re purchasing land. What can I say?”
He had already said too much. Bottom line—Castle couldn’t be trusted. If his workers used false names to fit in with the local Amish, no telling what else he would do to see his development succeed. Although how this site north of town had anything to do with either Noah’s land or Ruthie’s property was the question Noah couldn’t answer, yet everything pointed to a connection.
Noah put his hand on the small of Ruthie’s back and guided her toward the door. “Why don’t we look around outside?”
Dave hurried after them. “Wait, folks. I’ll give you my card.”
He grabbed a business card from a nearby desk and handed it to Noah. “We’ve got a home offer for you.” Glancing at Ruthie, he added, “And you, too, ma’am.
“Stop back after you drive around,” Dave continued. “We can go over some numbers. The model home’s open next door. Be sure to check it out. You’ll enjoy all the comforts of a Castle home.”
Noah knew the comforts that could be washed away in a wall of water all too well.
Once Ruthie and Noah stepped outside, she said, “Dave seems a bit aggressive to me.”
“He’s repeating all of Mr. Castle’s phrases. Castle’s the one who seems to be moving fast and going in big for this area of North Georgia.”
“I hate to think what will happen when all these people move to Willkommen. It makes me glad I live on the mountain.”
“Let’s drive around the site. Maybe we can get a different perspective on what’s going on here.”
The streets were marked, but only a few were paved. From the sizes of the lots, the houses would be close together with little green space.
Stopping at the top of a hill in the rear of the development, Noah pointed to Amish Mountain in the distance. “Notice anything up there?”
They both got out and walked to the edge of the road. Ruthie held her hand over her eyes to shield the sun’s glare. “Is that my house?”
“Between the trees. I can see the waterfall farther up the mountain and the river that forms at the bottom of the falls, and then runs down the mountain, passing between our farms.”
She stared at the mountain and nodded. “Your house is barely visible to the right of the river. I never realized a natural valley leads down the mountain toward this area.”
“Because the river turns at the junction of our properties and flows along the southern valley to the other side of town. That’s where we always focus.”
“Ever since seeing the rendering of the lake, I keep wondering where Castle plans to get the water.” She turned to Noah, her face drawn. “Looks like they could get it from the river with just a little engineering. Lowering your side of the riverbank and damming up my side would redirect the water down the northern valley.”
Noah nodded. “Then Castle has his lake.”
“So how’s Prescott Construction involved?”
“Brian Burkholder is the common thread that ties everything together.” Noah hesitated for a moment and then added, “What if Prescott Construction or Brian Burkholder doesn’t want Castle to succeed? Castle may not know who’s behind Prescott Construction.”
“Or, does Prescott Construction want our land so Burkholder can up the price and sell it to Mr. Castle for a profit?” Ruthie added.
“Maybe, especially if he and Castle have some negative history from their days in Tennessee.”
“I do not like any of this, Noah.”
They climbed back into his pickup and started down the hill. As they rounded one of the sharp curves, a dump truck filled with gravel raced around the bend and headed straight toward them.
Ruthie screamed.
Noah turned the wheel. His pickup swerved out of the way just in time. Gravel flew from the top of the truck and pummeled his pickup, nicking his windshield.
“That was intentional,” Noah said as he strained to catch sight of the driver.
Ruthie patted her chest as if to calm her heart. Her eyes were wide, her mouth drawn.
“Are you okay?” he asked, seeing her ashen face.
“I saw the man driving the truck.” She grabbed his hand. “Oh, Noah, he had a stocking pulled over his face just like the man who attacked me on the mountain.”
* * *
Ruthie’s heart continued to pound at an erratic rate. The near miss had scared her. Seeing the man behind the wheel of the dump truck had scared her even more.
The man on the mountain who had attacked her wore a stocking pulled over his face. From the distorted features of the man driving the truck today, he had to have pulled a stocking over his face in the same way. She could not describe his features, yet everything within her had shuddered when she saw him. Her inner voice of warning screamed that the mountain attacker was after her again.
“A feeling came over me that it was the same man.” She hugged her arms around her, hoping to ease the inner tension that wound her tight as a spring. “Then I realized he was wearing a stocking. It is more than a coincidence, Noah. He has to be the same man.”
“We’ll stop at the Castle Homes office. I want to let them know what happened and see if we can discover who was driving that truck.”
Dave wa
s talking to another couple when they stepped into the office. A young female receptionist approached them and asked if she could help. Noah explained what had happened and that they needed to learn the name of the driver.
The other couple left the office with brochures and maps in hand and Dave stepped toward them. “Did I overhear that you folks had a problem?”
Noah repeated what he had told the receptionist. “Who was driving the truck? The guy needs to be reprimanded.”
“Of course. I’m so sorry for what happened and relieved you weren’t hurt.”
“Gravel chipped my windshield, and we could have been severely injured.”
“I’m sure Castle Homes will cover the damage as soon as we talk to the driver.” He pulled out his phone. “I’ll call the foreman. He’ll locate the driver so we can get to the bottom of this situation.”
He tapped in a number and raised the phone to his ear, nodding when the call was answered. He repeated the information.
“You’re sure?” He frowned and then sighed. “I’ll pass on the information.”
Disconnecting, he turned to Ruthie and Noah. “The foreman says we don’t have any dump trucks on the worksite today and no orders for gravel deliveries. He wondered if you confused the truck with another possible buyer who was touring the housing sites.”
“Buyers don’t usually drive dump trucks filled with gravel.”
“You’re right, sir. The foreman’s down by the lake if you want to talk to him. I’m sorry I can’t be of more help.”
Ruthie and Noah left the office and climbed into the pickup. “I have caused too many problems,” she said as she buckled her seat belt.
“You weren’t the one driving the dump truck. We’ll try to find that truck. The Castle foreman may think he didn’t have a gravel delivery today, but we didn’t imagine the truck and his aggressive driving.”
They scoured the building site without success. “Let’s head to the lake,” Noah said finally. “I want to talk to the foreman personally.”
But the only work crews they saw were carpenters stubbing a new home. Noah pulled to a stop near one of the workmen.