Читать книгу Plain Outsider - Alison Stone - Страница 15

THREE

“Where do you live?” Harrison asked Becky as he put the patrol car into Drive.

“Out on Asbury Road past the Millers’ farm.”

He cut her a sideways glance. “Mind telling the new guy where the Miller farm is?” Before she had a chance to answer, he lifted his hand in resignation. The locals often gave directions by landmark and if he didn’t want to be forever known as the new guy, he had better figure it out. “Why don’t you just holler when I need to make a turn? Sound good?” He gestured with his chin toward the road. “A left out of here?”

“Yeah.” Her tone sounded as flat as the four tires on her car still awaiting the tow truck in the parking lot. A part of him wondered if whoever was taking their frustration out on her was doing it not just because she testified against another deputy, but because she was a woman. Despite the calendar year, a lot of guys still believed in the good old boys’ club.

Harrison drummed his fingers on the top of the steering wheel as he slowed to look both ways before he pulled out of the parking lot and onto the road. “Everything go okay when you reported the incident?” The sheriff seemed like a pretty solid guy, determined to make a strong showing in his new position.

“Yeah, I guess.”

His gut told him not to ask, not to get involved. But he couldn’t help himself. “What does that mean?”

“Apparently, I’ve attracted some unwanted attention, including getting run off the road this morning.”

This kind of behavior really ticked him off. Negligent drivers. Probably out drinking.

“The sheriff wanted to dismiss it as reckless driving on some back country roads, but now this...” She lifted her shoulders and let them drop. “Here, turn at the next road. It’s quicker.” She tugged on her seat belt and continued on about the sheriff. “If he hadn’t already suspended me, he probably would have after my car was vandalized. I’m attracting the wrong kind of attention. The sheriff would probably claim a few more days off would be for my own good. Department morale seems at a low.”

“Does the sheriff think it’s someone in his department?” He scrubbed a hand across his face.

“Not that he’d ever say. But I wouldn’t put it past Reich himself. He’s a loose cannon.” Becky ran the palms of her hands up and down the thighs of her uniform pants.

“His son works here, too.” Harrison thought back to the officer who drove by slowly, warning him to avoid Becky.

“Doesn’t help. All the other deputies will feel more loyalty to the Reich family than to me, unfortunately.”

“You going to be okay?” He stared straight ahead as fields of corn whipped by on either side of them.

“Yeah.” What else could she say? She wasn’t exactly going to pour her heart out to him. He was a stranger.

“You need to hire a lawyer,” he said matter-of-factly.

She shifted in her seat to partially face him. “You really think so? Isn’t that expensive?”

“It might be too costly not to hire a lawyer. You need someone looking out for your best interests.” He wished he had seen that his brother had got the help that he had needed instead of allowing his anger and embarrassment to put a rift between the two of them. “The sheriff’s department has had a publicity nightmare after the beating incident. The video from your dash cam made it onto all the news stations from Buffalo to Cleveland. If this new video gets out, depending on what’s on it, this story is going to grow legs and find its way into all the news cycles again. The sheriff’s department will do anything to get out of the spotlight, even if that means throwing you under the bus.”

“You can’t be serious.” She swept her hand across her mouth and eyed him wearily. “This is a small-town sheriff’s department, not some big city.”

“Office politics are office politics.”

“But I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Does the latest video support that statement?” His gut told him she couldn’t be violent, but in an altercation, you never knew. Adrenaline and fear did things to people.

“Yes... I used the baton to separate the men.” Becky tugged on the strap of her seat belt. “Reich’s lawyer gave the sheriff a video of me approaching the men with my baton raised.” She cleared her throat. “The rest of what happened is unclear. Whoever recorded it took off running, but...” She paused, rubbing her temples vigorously as if reliving the moment. “I used the baton to brace Reich and pull him off the kid. I didn’t hit anybody. I mean, if I hurt anyone with the baton, it would be when I forced it against Reich.” She blinked a few times. “I can’t believe this mess. I only became a deputy because I wanted to help people. Now everyone is going to think I’ve turned evil.” Her turn of expression sounded odd.

“Take a deep breath.” He wanted to reach out and touch her hand, but decided against it. “Hiring a lawyer is a good idea, especially for the innocent.” Well, for anyone. “Don’t fight this alone. Reich has a lawyer,” he added, if she needed more convincing.

“I don’t know,” Becky muttered. Before he had a chance to respond, her cell phone chimed. She yanked the phone from her duty belt and checked the number. “I should get this.”

Harrison listened to a one-sided conversation. Obviously, someone Becky knew personally was in distress.

He reached over and touched her arm and mouthed. “What’s going on?”

“Hold on, Mag.” She held the phone to her chest. “My sister wants me to stop over. She’s concerned about a neighbor’s dog. Again.”

“Where does she live?”

“It’s okay. I don’t want to impose on you any more than I already have.”

“I don’t mind. I haven’t had any calls anyway.”

“Um, okay.” Then into the phone. “Hang tight. I’ll be right there.”

Becky directed Harrison toward a house nestled among a cluster of Amish homes. “Right up here. Park on the road along the cornfields. Better if they don’t see the patrol car.”

“Are you going to tell me what this is about?”

Becky scratched her head. “My sister. She’s worried about a neighbor’s dog that ran onto the property. It’s been an ongoing concern. The dog is hungry and not well cared for. We’ve suspected abuse, but I’ve handled it unofficially, returning the dog to his owner after they promised they’d take better care of it.” She frowned. “Obviously, that’s not working.”

“Wait.” Harrison angled his head to look up toward the home. A buggy was parked by the barn. An Amish family obviously lived here. “Your sister?”

“Yah, my sister.” A twinkle lit her eyes. He had a feeling the amplified Amish inflection was for his benefit.

“Oh...” It was his turn to sound confused. “You grew up Amish?”

She pointed to her nose and said, “Ding. Ding. Ding.”

“Oh... Do you want me to wait here, then?” Harrison asked, suddenly feeling a little discombobulated. Amish? Really?

Becky hesitated for a moment. “That would probably be best.”

“Okay, I’ll do that. I’ll be right here.” Now he was repeating himself, completely caught off guard by her revelation.

Becky climbed out of the patrol car and strode along the road and cut in between the cornfields, as if to go in undetected. He had read somewhere that the Amish shunned those who left their ranks. Perhaps Becky was sneaking in because she wasn’t welcomed.

Harrison rubbed the back of his neck, replaying in his mind all the events that had transpired since he had held the door at the station open for Becky this morning. He hadn’t had much interaction with the deputy since he’d moved here less than a year ago, but he would have never guessed former Amish worked as deputies. Were there others?

Now the warning in Pennsylvania Dutch to “go away” made a little more sense. But how a woman went from Amish to sheriff’s deputy was beyond him. Maybe it was time he finally learned a little more about the Amish. And maybe Becky was just the person to teach him.

* * *

Becky strode up the dirt path between the cornfield and the neighbor’s property. She undid the buttons on her cuffs and rolled up her sleeves, hoping to look a little less official in her sheriff’s uniform. It was early enough that perhaps her parents would be too busy with chores to notice their wayward daughter had snuck in to meet with her younger sister out back by the shed.

She hoped.

But if she did run into them, she wanted to downplay the fact that not only had she jumped the fence, but she had also joined the sheriff’s department. Her parents didn’t need to voice their displeasure. It was a given, not that either of them had even discussed it directly with her. It was kind of hard to confront someone when you didn’t talk to them.

When Becky got to the shed without being discovered, she heaved a sigh of relief. She didn’t think her day could get any worse.

Until it had.

Mag—short for Magdaline—was sitting with her back pressed against the shed, a mangy dog in her lap. At seventeen, Mag was the youngest of the Spoth family children. Three brothers separated the bookend sisters, two of which were already married. Only Abram and Mag still lived at home.

“Hi, Mag.” Becky crouched down and her heart dropped when she saw the pain in her sister’s eyes. Becky gingerly touched the dog’s matted hair. An unpleasant aroma wafted off the unwashed dog in the summer morning heat. Becky had to stifle a groan. “This poor dog found his way over here again, didn’t he?”

Mag nodded, her lower lip trembling, making her appear much younger than her seventeen years and reminding Becky of the preteen she had left behind almost six years ago when she decided the Amish life wasn’t for her. But now Mag was straddling childhood and the woman she would soon become. Would she choose to be baptized Amish or break their parents’ hearts as Becky had done? Mag was a big part of the reason Becky chose to stay in Quail Hollow. Sure, she left the Amish, but she couldn’t abandon her sister completely. Her three brothers had each other. Mag had no one.

Becky inspected the dog; open sores covered the pads of his paws. “He needs medical care.”

“I know.” Mag sniffed. “Are you going to make me return him, like last time?”

Becky looked toward her childhood home. She didn’t see any sign of her parents. “Dat and Mem would want you to return him. He’s not ours.” Even as she made the argument, she wasn’t convinced, especially since the owner had obviously ignored her warning to take care of his pets.

“But he’s just a little puppy,” Mag said, her words trembling as she fought back tears.

“No one can treat an animal like this. There are laws against it.” Rage thrummed through Becky’s ears as she grew more convinced that she couldn’t hand over this dog to their neighbors. Not again. “Let’s go talk to the Kings.” The culmination of a few very bad weeks had suddenly reinforced Becky’s spine with steel. At this exact moment, she didn’t care about the consequences, not if it meant protecting this puppy.

“Dat won’t like that.” Mag suddenly had cold feet despite her fierce need to protect the dog. “I’ll get in trouble for being disobedient.” Their father had told Mag to stop meddling in their neighbor’s business the last time the dog had wandered over. Becky heard the story secondhand when the sisters met in town for a quick cup of coffee. Their father wouldn’t have liked that, either, but he had never expressly forbidden it.

“I’ll take the blame. There’s nothing they can do to me,” Becky said. A look of admiration crossed her sister’s delicate features, something Becky both cherished and dreaded. She didn’t want to be a negative influence on her sister. Their parents also worried about her influence. Becky wasn’t welcome at her childhood home. Shoving the thought aside, she held out her hand and helped her sister up. “Let’s go.”

Magdaline walked alongside Becky, holding the dog in her arms, the fabric of her long dress swishing around her legs as she rushed to keep up.

Becky slowed and held out her arms. “Hand me the dog. I’ll confront Paul. You don’t have to get in trouble.”

Paul King, the owner of the farm next door, and Becky weren’t strangers. Far from it. But with their vastly different lifestyles now, they easily could have been. Not so long ago, he had driven her home in his courting wagon more times than she could count from Sunday singings. He confidently laid out the plans for their future, while silently she made plans for her own.

Their more recent exchanges had been over this very same dog. Paul obviously wasn’t caring for the animals on his farm. Perhaps since his father had died and Paul had become the sole man of the house, he had let things slide. However, this time she wouldn’t hand over the dog and leave. She wanted to see for herself what was going on at her neighbor’s farm.

“It’s okay, I’ll take the dog over and talk to him,” Becky repeated.

Mag held the dog closer, reluctant to let him go.

“Mag, I don’t have all day.” The sun rising higher in the sky was making her sweat in her deputy uniform. “Give me the dog and I’ll handle the situation.”

Mag lowered her eyes to the puppy nestled in her arms. “But if he takes the dog back, he won’t be cared for. Even dogs are God’s creatures.”

A sense of pride filled Becky. Her sister had far more spunk than she had at that age. However, she feared that kind of grit would get an Amish youngie in trouble more often than not.

Becky tugged on the hem of her untucked uniform shirt. She’d hate to see what she looked like after the day she’d already had.

And it was still early.

Becky touched her sister’s sleeve. “The truth is, since the dog belongs to Paul, it’s very possible that we’ll have to give him back. But there are laws against inhumane treatment of animals. I can...”

Her suspension. What could she really do while suspended?

“We’ll figure this out. But first, I need to see what’s going on next door. Give me the dog.” She smiled encouragingly. “Go home. I don’t want you to get in trouble with Dat.”

Mag jutted out her chin and pressed her lips together, the picture of defiance. “No, I’ll go with you. I’ll get back before Dat and Mem find out I’m gone.”

A little twinge of guilt zipped through Becky. She didn’t mean to encourage her sister to disobey her parents, but deep in her heart, she couldn’t imagine her parents would want to let the treatment of this dog to continue unchecked. Animal cruelty was the only way this dog could have sores on his body and matted fur. “Let’s hurry up, then, so you can get back to your chores.”

“Okay.” Her sister seemed to cheer up a bit. Big sister to the rescue.

Becky hoped she didn’t look as ruffled as she felt, but she wanted to make a serious impression on Paul. He needed to take better care of his animals. Maybe the threat of interference from law enforcement would make him fall in line, but somehow she doubted it. He’d seemed unfazed the last couple times she stopped over. The sheriff’s department walked a very fine line when it came to dealing with the Amish. They wanted to respect their right to live separately while making sure laws were followed.

Becky followed the small path that led through a crop of trees to the Kings’ house. Memories of a life lived so long ago came floating back. Memories she’d rather forget because they made her nostalgic. As a teenager, she used to run along this path to visit her friend Amy. And later when she started dating her friend’s older brother, Paul, back when she thought her life would be like her mem’s and all the female ancestors before her.

Now, Paul, and his wife, Mary Elizabeth, owned the farm, his mother living with them in the dawdy haus. Paul’s brother Amos still lived there, too, but was rumored to be getting married soon. And her friend Amy had married an Amish boy and moved across town like a good Amish girl. Actually, Amy’s husband was the cousin of Elijah Lapp, the Amish boy who had been beaten by Deputy Reich. Elijah had ditched his car in front of Amy’s house in hopes of taking cover in their barn, or so the gossip went.

Such was life in a small town.

Becky shook away all the memories pelting her as she came to a clearing on the Kings’ property. She slowed and turned to look for her sister, who had fallen behind. The dog seemed content curled up in Mag’s arms despite being jostled as she ran to catch up.

When they reached the barn, Becky held up her hand. “Wait here while I look inside. I’m not going to hand the dog over this time without seeing the living conditions.” Most Amish kept their pets outdoors.

Becky pulled open the door and slipped through the small opening. It took her eyes a few minutes to adjust to the shadows. The smell of hay and manure, although unpleasant, wasn’t unfamiliar. She was grateful she was no longer responsible for mucking out the stalls. A little pang of guilt poked her because she had left her sister and brother behind to do her chores.

The guilt ebbed away as curiosity took hold. From the far end of the barn, she heard mewling sounds, as if a small animal or animals were in pain. Blinking, her eyes adjusted to the darkness.

Something moved in the shadows.

She pulled her flashlight from her belt and directed its beam toward the heartbreaking sound. The eyes of at least a dozen dogs in a small cage glowed under the light. She reeled back on her heels with a gasp.

“What are you doing in here?”

Becky spun around. Paul lifted his hand to block the light that hit his hardened expression under the wide brim of his straw hat. He gritted his teeth. “Get that out of my eyes, woman.”

Instinctively, Becky lowered her hand, but didn’t turn off the flashlight. Paul had a short fuse when things didn’t go his way. She remembered the sinking feeling she had as they discussed something regarding their future and his anger when she disagreed. He had fully expected her to be subservient as his wife. And why not? They both had grown up with similar role models in their homes.

Becky didn’t see that for her future. She had her own ideas. And from somewhere deep within, she had mustered the courage to leave. Sometimes she wondered how.

Resisting the urge to shine the beam back into his eyes to make a point, she gestured toward the door. “Come with me.”

She strode past him into the bright sunlight and around to the back where Mag was standing out of sight. “Why is this dog—any of those dogs—not being cared for?”

Some of the bluster disappeared as his mouth worked, but no words came. The uncertainty in his eyes made her believe that he didn’t know what to say. Perhaps he actually felt shame for the condition of the dogs.

“You didn’t answer my question. Why are you here?” Paul tried to regain the upper hand.

Surprisingly, Mag spoke up. “Your dog wandered over to my farm again. He came through the woods.” She spoke so softly she was difficult to hear above the dogs that had started barking in earnest at the commotion.

“This one keeps escaping.” Paul reached out to grab the dog from Mag’s arms. Mag pulled away and gave him her back, obviously determined not to relinquish the dog.

“I see stubbornness runs in the Spoth family.” Paul huffed and crossed his arms. “Give me my dog. You said yourself it came from my property.” It didn’t seem to register with him that this was the very same dog they had previously returned on two separate occasions. How many dogs did he have in that cage? How had this one been fortunate enough to escape on more than one occasion?

A look of terror—of realization—crossed her sister’s eyes and she took off running down the driveway, the awkward gait of someone holding on to something dearly as her gown slapped at her skinny legs.

“Mag!” Becky called out to her. She shared a brief exchange with Paul and an idea hit her. “I’m not going to hand over the dog like last time.”

Paul smirked, as if her threat was meaningless. “I think you have enough trouble not to go borrowing more.” His hard-edged stare made her speechless. “I read the papers. What are you going to do, beat me up?” He laughed, the sound scraping across her nerves. He held out his hand as if to touch her, and Becky stepped back, out of his reach. “You must be scrappier than I thought.”

Rage roiled in her gut, helping her find her voice. “Let me buy the dog,” Becky offered.

“What are you talking about?” Paul said, growing angrier. “Just leave. That’s what you wanted from the beginning, to leave the Amish, so don’t come back here in your uniform and try to tell me what to do. You have no say over me. You, of all people, should know that.” Paul strode down the driveway toward her sister. “She better give me that dog.”

Protective instincts kicking in, Becky rushed after Paul. “You will not take that dog from my sister. Do you hear me?”

Paul spun around and glared at her. Seizing the moment, she reached into her pocket and pulled out the two twenties she had stuffed in there before the start of her shift last night, before her world was once again upended. She never knew when cash would come in handy, for lunch, for someone down on his luck, or for offering her former boyfriend forty bucks for his dog.

“I’m buying the dog.” She jammed the money in his direction. “Isn’t that why you have so many dogs in a cage? To sell them? I’m buying this one.” That had to be the reason. The sheriff’s department had answered complaints regarding suspected puppy mills among the Amish, but she had never come across one. Mostly, she had hoped the reports were false. How could a kind and gentle people be anything but loving toward God’s creatures?

With a sour expression on his face, Paul swiped the money out of her hand. “Keep the dog. Now, get out of here.”

Becky stared at Paul for a long moment, as if trying to decide her next move. She didn’t have too many options legally right now because of her suspension, but he didn’t know that. Maybe the threat of intervention by the sheriff’s department was enough for him to clean up his act.

“Take care of those dogs. They need a clean, warm place to stay.” Becky pointed to the barn. “Someone will be out to inspect the animals in the next day or two.”

A muscle jumped in Paul’s jaw. “What did I ever do to you?” Like always, he tried to turn things around. Cast the blame elsewhere.

“Take care of those dogs,” she repeated, not bothering to soften the hard edge of her tone. The sun beat down on her, making her sweat. Becky hustled to catch up with her sister at the end of the driveway. Once there, she touched her sister’s shoulder. She could feel her trembling. “Come on, sweetie. The dog is ours.”

“Really?” Mag lifted her watery eyes. “But, what’s Mem and Dat going to say when I show up with a dog?”

“Don’t worry.” Easy for Becky to say when, in fact, Mag had a very good point.

Just then, she noticed Harrison’s patrol car pulling up on the side of the road. He must have been watching for them. He climbed out of the patrol car.

“Everything okay?” With a concerned look on his face, he gently petted the dog in her sister’s arms, as if inspecting it for injuries. This tender gesture touched Becky’s heart.

“Yes, it is for now.” She shot him a “we’ll talk about it later” look. Then she gently scooped the dog out of her sister’s arms. “I’ll take care of the dog. Once he’s all better, maybe Dat and Mem will let you keep him. Okay?”

“Okay,” Mag repeated quietly, not seeming so sure. Becky understood the feelings of helplessness and lack of control while on the cusp of adulthood, especially among the Amish.

“I promise I’ll talk to our parents about the dog.”

Mag looked up with wide eyes. “Might be hard if they’re not willing to talk to you.”

Becky ran a hand down the dog’s matted fur. “One step at a time.”

Becky turned to steal one last glance at the Kings’ property. Paul had disappeared, but his wife, Mary Elizabeth, stood on the porch and stared at them, clutching something to her chest. A light breeze ruffled the Amish woman’s long dress. A whisper of something—nostalgia, déjà vu, relief, maybe?—made Becky tremble as a vision of what most certainly would have been her future flashed before her eyes. But it wasn’t her life. She had broken up with Paul. She had left the Amish, her family.

Yet, still, on this sweltering day, she couldn’t help but feel shadows of her past stretching out to claim her.