Читать книгу Amish Country Ambush - Dana R. Lynn - Страница 13
ОглавлениеThe lights flickered as thunder boomed, rattling the windows. Immediately, heavy sheets of rain pelted the glass. Distracted, Elise St. Clair glanced at the lights running the length of the ceiling as she pressed the button to answer the next call.
Her customary greeting of “Nine-one-one. What’s your emergency?” was swallowed up in the intensity of the noise that blasted back at her.
The woman on the other end of the phone was shouting, the sound deafeningly loud. And worse, she couldn’t understand a word the woman was saying. She was yelling in Pennsylvania Dutch, the language spoken by the Amish community. Elise didn’t quite recognize the voice, although there was something familiar about it. She glanced down at the screen nearest her and felt her world tilt.
She might not have recognized the voice on the other end of the phone, but she knew the address that flashed across one of the three computer monitors at her station.
It belonged to an old, slightly creaky farmhouse on the edge of town. The paint was peeling in places, and there were some shingles missing. It was hidden in the middle of nowhere. The kind of place people would drive by without a second glance.
It was also her house. The house she had lived in for the past two years with Mikey, her nephew who was now three years old. And the phone number belonged to her babysitter, Diana Mosher, who was definitely not the person on the phone. Where was Diana? Who was calling her?
Something horrible had happened, and she couldn’t understand a word of it. The urge to throw down her headset and dash out the door was fierce. Her hands were already on the headset, ready to snatch it from her head before she realized that she was the only one who could notify the authorities of the need for help. But who should she call? Police? Ambulance? Fire department? As head dispatcher, it was her job to send the call to the correct department.
The shouting on the other end eased off as the woman on the line started sobbing. She sounded younger than Elise had first thought. Wait a minute. Her cleaning girl, Leah, was due in today. Elise had hired her because she herself was allergic to dust, and there was dust everywhere in a farmhouse in rural northwestern Pennsylvania. Leah was Amish. She spoke English and was able to communicate with Elise perfectly well—but if she was upset, and she definitely sounded upset, she might default to Pennsylvania Dutch.
“Leah?” A sob answered her. “Leah...it’s Elise. What happened?”
“I think she’s dead,” Leah answered through her tears.
Diana? Fear and grief started to collide. Not again. Please, God. Not again.
Forcing a calm she didn’t feel, Elise said, “Leah, what happened to Diana? Do you see Mikey? Is my nephew there?” She clamped her lips against the flood of hysteria threatening to break free.
On the other end, Leah sucked in a harsh breath. In the distance, Elise could make out a crash on the other end of the line. Not thunder—something else. Something more frightening. Then another crash. Something was happening.
“Leah? What’s going on?”
Then a whisper. “I think someone’s in the house.”
The line went dead.
Elise froze for a second, gagging on the fear that closed her throat. She’d been too complacent. Tricked into a sense of false security. And now the danger she should have been expecting all along had found her again. Yes, it was possible that a complete stranger was breaking into her house, but she doubted it. Every instinct she possessed was shrieking that the attack was deliberate, and she was the intended target.
The memories she’d been running from swamped her. Her sister, Karalynne, murdered. Elise believed with all her heart that her overly possessive brother-in-law Hudson had killed Karalynne. But he’d disappeared. And she’d taken Mikey and moved away from the memories.
Could Hudson be responsible for this new attack?
She shook her head. The police had told her Hudson had died, a horrible violent death. She’d seen the report. Part of her had sighed in relief, choosing to believe she and her nephew were safe.
But now unease returned. As much as she wanted to believe Hudson was dead, there was one fact that had always bothered her. His body had never been found. The police had insisted that the car fire that had killed him had incinerated his remains. What if...
Enough! She had to get to Mikey. Because someone was after them. Although if it wasn’t Hudson Langor, she didn’t know who would have any reason to attack her home.
She should have warned Diana about Hudson. And about the brutal violence he was capable of. But without proof, who’d believe her?
If only she’d stayed home one more day! She’d had a nasty stomach bug that had kept her at home for the past two days, but today she’d felt well enough to come into work. Had she been home...
Elise couldn’t worry about that. Not now. She had to get to Mikey. He was all that mattered.
Her coworker Monica Johnson sauntered into the room, a bored expression on her pretty face. She could do the job.
Elise whipped off her headset and jumped up so fast her wheeled chair was propelled back, slamming into the wall behind her. Monica stared at her, openmouthed. Elise never got emotional at work. When handling frantic emergency calls, she felt that calmness on her end was key. But this wasn’t a normal situation where she had to soothe a stranger into sharing the necessary details. This time, she was the one under attack, and she couldn’t hide how frightened she was.
“Monica! Send the police to my address. Someone broke in. And send an ambulance, too. My babysitter may have been injured. I’m heading there now.”
Not Mikey. Please, God. Let Mikey and Leah be okay. Diana’s image floated through her mind. And if it’s possible, please let Diana still be alive.
Monica nodded, her face pale and shocked as she shooed Elise away. Elise could hear Monica’s loud, abrasive voice as she called the police. Elise grabbed up her purse and flew out the door. Thankfully, it was only four o’clock in the afternoon. She wouldn’t have to deal with traffic or darkness as she drove.
She hadn’t counted on the rain, though, turning the muggy July day into a wet mess. Elise dashed to her car, her feet slogging through puddles as fat raindrops pounded relentlessly on her bare head. She hadn’t thought to grab her umbrella on her way out the door, and she certainly wasn’t going back for it now—not when every second counted.
She was soaked and shivering by the time she was seated behind the wheel. She started the engine and shifted into Drive. Clenching the wheel in both hands, she drove furiously, swerving to avoid the larger puddles. Even so, her right wheel hit one and water splashed up on the windshield.
Pulling onto her road, she spun the wheel and turned sharply into her long gravel driveway. Then she stopped. She couldn’t see her house from here, but she could envision it clearly. The large farmhouse that had appeared so perfect to hide in when she’d first seen it now seemed like the perfect haven for a madman lying in wait to ambush her. If she drove all the way up the driveway, he’d hear the car and know she was coming. She had to walk. Decision made, she pulled the car off the driveway enough to let the emergency vehicles pass. Then she killed the engine. Her fingers fumbled on her seat belt. Finally, the buckle slipped free and she shoved it aside, her free hand scrambling for the door latch.
Leaving her purse in the car, she grabbed her keys and ran up the driveway. She was a good runner, but her anxiety had her breathing faster than normal. By the time she’d reached the side of her house, she was panting. Sweat, mixed with rainwater, dripped down her neck.
At the stairs, she paused. If she was going to assume the intruder was still inside, then she needed to consider her entrance carefully. If the attacker was Hudson, the man had a brutal streak that ran deep. While her heart urged her to get inside and find her nephew as quickly as possible, caution was advised, especially if she had any hope of saving Mikey and Leah. Where were the police?
Carefully, she pulled open the screen door. The heavy wooden front door was unlocked. It swung open with a faint creak. She cringed. Had Hudson heard that? She held her breath and listened. Nothing. The silence terrified her. Ten minutes ago, Leah had been shrieking. Now, aside from the still-pouring rain beating against the roof and windows, there was no sound at all.
She slipped in through the half-open door and glanced around. From this vantage point, she had a clear view of both the living room and the dining room. No one seemed to be there. She took a step into the open living room and approached the couch, which faced into the room. Something crunched under her foot. Glass. From where?
She lifted her eyes to look around and sucked in a shocked breath. Every single picture on the wall had been shattered, the familiar images damaged or destroyed. Her heart stuck in her throat. All she had left of her sister was wrapped up in pictures and her son. Now the pictures had been destroyed, and Mikey... Again, she shoved down the urge to run to his room. If she was going to protect him, she needed to be cautious—to carefully assess the situation rather than rush in. She continued her survey of the room.
Glass covered the hardwood floor. She could see shards sticking out of the oval area rug. A baseball bat was leaning against the wall. Behind the coffee table situated in front of the sofa, an arm was stretched out, the hand tapering into three perfectly manicured fuchsia-tipped nails. The other two had broken off. Diana. Averting her gaze, she reached out for the bat. There was something on it. Blood. She hesitated before her hands touched the bat, knowing it had been used as a weapon against her friend. The police would want it as evidence, so she should leave it alone—but on the other hand, it was a weapon she could use to defend herself. Torn, she left it alone for now.
Clutching her throat, she fought against the nausea that rolled in her belly and stepped farther into the room. Maybe Leah was hiding with Mikey deeper inside the house.
Glass crunched behind her.
“Well, well, well. Little Elise.” She knew that voice!
Elise whirled, her heart in her throat as, for the first time in two years, she faced the one man she’d feared above all others. The handsome face she remembered was gone. The face before her was damaged, ravaged by fire to the point that it was no longer recognizable. The thick hair she’d seen him smooth back so often was thin, missing in places. Patches of scar tissue replaced hair in several places. The charming smile she remembered was now distorted due to the damaged skin and muscle tissue. It would have been tempting to believe she was facing a total stranger.
Except for the voice.
That voice she’d know anywhere. Dark and gravelly, cold and cruel.
“Hudson!” she gasped. “You’re supposed to be dead.”
He smiled. It was a smile filled with malice. Images of him strangling Karalynne flooded her mind, paralyzing her.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? I’m sure it was you who convinced my wife to throw me out of the house. Which means you’re to blame for everything.”
He stepped closer. Dizziness swamped her. She wanted to run. But where was Mikey? Hudson reached out a large hand and grabbed a handful of her short curls. Pain lanced through her skull as he pulled her head back. She cried out. “Not so brave now, are you? You should never have interfered in what didn’t concern you. You turned her against me, I’m sure you did. She never would have tried to leave me if not for you. Her death is all your fault. You know what I’m after. Where is it? And where is my son?”
It was telling, in her mind, that he asked for his son second. This was a man who was incapable of love. If he wanted Mikey, it wasn’t due to fatherly affection but for some twisted purpose of his own.
He yanked on her hair again. Even as spots danced in front of her eyes, hope filled her heart. He had no idea where Mikey was. Which meant Leah had managed to hide him.
A meaty fist slammed into her jaw. Elise slumped to the floor as Hudson threw her back from him. He stepped toward her, rage written all over him. I don’t want to die yet.
Hudson stopped suddenly as sirens filled the air. Blue-and-red strobe lights splashed across her eggshell-colored walls. The police had arrived. Fury flickered on his face. “I’ll be back. I’ll find it. And Michael. And then you’re going to pay for what you’ve cost me.”
Running, he headed for the back of the house. She heard the back door crash open.
She should move. Get up and tell the police...
Her thoughts were hazy, and she couldn’t keep them together. She attempted to lift her head. It was too heavy. She lay there among the glass, knowing it was digging into her but unable to move.
Her eyes drifted shut.
A hand touched her neck.
Her pulse stuttered. Had he come back? She should fight. She forced her eyes open and met concerned eyes the color of melted chocolate. She blinked slowly. Short, medium brown hair. Strong jaw. And a dark blue LaMar Pond Police Department uniform came into view.
She was safe. For now. Her eyes drifted shut again.
* * *
Sergeant Ryan Parker stared down at the woman lying on the glass-covered area rug. It was hard to tell how badly she was wounded. Her jaw was bruised and starting to swell. She was bleeding from a half-dozen small cuts. He could clearly see shards of broken glass threaded in her golden-brown curls. He pressed two fingers to her pale throat again. Through his latex gloves, he could still feel a steady pulse.
“Hey, I know her. That’s Elise St. Clair, the head dispatcher. Is she alive?”
Ryan looked up into the wide eyes and concerned face of his friend and colleague, Gavin Jackson. Ryan had recognized her, too, having seen her in town a few times. If she’d spoken, he knew her voice would have been instantly familiar since he’d spoken with her on the radio plenty of times. But she wasn’t speaking now. Instead, she was lying frighteningly still.
He’d never actually been close enough to see the spatter of freckles on her nose before. She had never exactly encouraged personal interactions. She’d always been polite but somewhat detached, whether they spoke on the radio during work or in passing when they saw each other in town. In fact, he’d always gotten the distinct impression that she was somewhat antisocial. “Yeah, she’s alive. Her pulse feels strong.”
“That’s good. The woman behind the table is dead.” Jackson’s voice was calm, but Ryan knew him well enough to see the rage brewing in his eyes. He hated when they arrived too late to protect someone in danger. They both did. “Looks like she was hit with the bat over against the wall. Are the paramedics here yet?”
As if summoned by his words, the paramedics walked through the door. Ryan and Jackson backed up, letting them do their job. The two officers started to leave the room, intending to search the rest of the house. Ryan let Jackson go ahead of him. He felt bad for his colleague, had seen the tight set of his eyes. He was taking this case personally.
Ryan wondered if Jackson had ever flirted with the young dispatcher. It wouldn’t have surprised him to find out that he had. Oh, not that he suspected there was anything serious between them. There never was. For all his flirting and charm, Jackson didn’t date. Ryan had a suspicion that he’d been burned badly before, but it wasn’t his place to ask. If his friend wanted to talk about it, he would. When he was ready.
What was he doing, wasting time? He shook his head, dismayed at his lack of focus. He should be recording the scene. He had turned on his body camera before entering the house. The department had only received the cameras in the past month, so he was still getting used to using them. Finished in his current room, he carefully backed out of the scene. There were other rooms to check out, and he was only in the paramedics’ way in here. He had started toward the stairs when a sudden thrashing made him halt. The woman cried out.
Ryan hurried back to where Elise was struggling against the paramedics.
“Ma’am, you need to calm down...”
She paid them no heed. In fact, her struggling increased. Ryan could see the wild panic in her smoky hazel eyes. He insinuated himself next to the first paramedic, Seth Travis. He had no plan, no idea of how he could help, but he had to try.
Those beautiful eyes fastened on him. She lurched forward slightly, grabbing his hand in both of hers and holding on to it tightly. Even injured, her grip was strong. Glancing down at their joined hands, he noted hers were scratched up, no doubt from the glass on the floor. Returning his gaze to Elise, he noted that some of the panic seemed to leach from her as she focused on him.
“Please.” Her voice was husky, strained. “You need to find them. She has Mikey, but they’re not safe. He won’t stop looking for them. My nephew’s missing. Babysitter’s dead. You need to find my baby.”
Them? Who else was missing? Her words weren’t making sense. Farther into the room, he was aware of the coroner arriving. The crime scene was now officially a contaminated mess, but that couldn’t be helped. Not when there was an injured woman on the premises and a child missing. And possibly someone else.
Before he could ask her about it, her gaze flashed to the wall. He tracked it. “Oh, no!”
A dark wooden picture frame was placed centrally on the wall, clearly in a place of honor. Unlike all the other picture frames in the room, this one was undamaged. It was also empty. Whatever picture had been inside it was gone.
“He’s got Mikey’s picture. He’ll know what he looks like. She needs to hide,” Elise murmured. Then her eyes rolled back in her head and she slumped, her hands relaxing and sliding off his. Just in time to miss the coroner and the paramedics hefting the covered stretcher and removing the other woman’s body from the crime scene. As much as he hated having Elise fall unconscious, that was a sight he wouldn’t want anyone to witness.
Within moments, the paramedics reentered the room and moved to his side to start loading Elise on a stretcher to transport her to the hospital. He saw both of them shooting him worried glances. He knew what they were thinking because his thoughts were there, too.
Oh, man. Did they have a kidnapping on their hands? Or was there an injured child on the premises? And what did her last statement mean?
“Jackson!” he shouted over his shoulder. Almost immediately, running footsteps answered him.
“Parker, got something?” Jackson halted in the doorway, his eyes sweeping around the room, looking for whatever had prompted the shout.
Ryan looked back at the woman on the stretcher. She was still out.
“She said something about needing to find her nephew. And maybe there was another person—female, I think—who needed to hide and who might have the child.”
Jackson’s eyes narrowed. “Sounds like she knew the person who attacked her.”
“Yeah. That’s my gut feeling, too. Whatever the case, we have at least one, maybe two, people at risk here, including a child.”
Jackson was already turning. “On it.”
“Seth,” Ryan addressed the paramedic next to him. “I’m going to help search for the kid.”
“Right.” Seth kept his focus on the unconscious woman. “We’re going to load her up in the ambulance. We’ll hang out for a few minutes while you see if there’s a child we need to transport.”
Ryan acknowledged the comment with a wave, then he took off on his search of the house. He walked from room to room, keeping his service weapon out just in case he ran into their mysterious intruder. Jackson met him at the stairs.
“No baby up here, Parker. Toddler bed in the room at the end. Looks as if it’s been searched, but nothing appears damaged. Toys and clothes suggest a child of about two or three. But there’s no sign of him here.”
Ryan frowned. “I don’t know, Jackson. This whole scenario is just plain weird. It definitely wasn’t a simple robbery. Plus, Elise seems to know something about the intruder. I won’t know what until she regains consciousness and we can question her.”
Jackson dipped his chin, acknowledging the truth of the statement. “Better let her get to the hospital first. Get checked out. I want to see if I can find a purse, something that can identity the dead woman. If that fails, I will check the scanner to see if we can find out who she is.”
The marvels of technology. The LaMar Pond Police Department had also been equipped recently with automatic license plate–recognition scanners. The system alerted them if they passed a car with a flag on it. But they could also scan a car in emergency situations like this to get the information they needed on the registered owner. While it was handy, Ryan hated knowing he and Jackson would soon be notifying someone that their loved one had been murdered. That was one part of his job that he despised. His father would say it was one more reason to quit and do what he was meant to do. He and his dad didn’t see eye to eye on many issues. His chosen career was one of them. But he had his reasons for why he had walked away from his family’s ambitions for him. Reasons that would eat at him forever if betrayed his calling to make peace with his dad.
“Where’s that breeze coming from?” Ryan pivoted on his heel and followed the cool draft that had teased the back of his neck. The room at the end of the hall was dim, but he could make out the sheer curtains blowing inward. Cautiously, weapon drawn, he edged the door open and turned on the light. The room was empty.
“Looks like someone climbed out the window.”
Ryan nodded. “That’s my take on it, too.”
Stepping up to the window, he peered out. Someone had clearly jumped out the first-story window. He could see the boot prints in the mud along the side of the house. Small feet. Smaller than he’d expect from a man. Certainly not a man big enough to take Elise down so easily. She had to be five foot nine, if he had to guess, and while she was slender, she looked far from fragile. No, he was confident that those footprints had been made by someone other than their perp.
Jackson whistled.
Ryan jerked his head in his friend’s direction. “What?”
He followed Jackson’s finger as it pointed. A piece of gray cloth was hanging on a nail just outside the window. It was wet from the rain, but other than that it was clean and didn’t look weathered, so it couldn’t have been there long.
“Okay. Someone obviously went out this window.” Urgency trickled through him. Decision time. “The kid’s not here. Worst-case scenario, whoever attacked Elise and killed the other woman had an accomplice who got the child and fled out this window.” He recalled Elise’s words. “But Elise said she had Mikey and that he won’t stop looking. That makes it sound like the woman and man weren’t working together. So maybe it was someone else in the house who took the kid and ran with him? Let’s give Seth the go-ahead to transfer Elise to the hospital. Then we’ll finish here. We have to notify the chief, too. Let him know we have a possible abduction.”
“Sounds like a plan. How about I continue here, and you go release the ambulance?”
Ryan gave him a thumbs-up, then strode out to where Seth and his partner were waiting. The rain had stopped while they were inside. As soon as he gave them the all clear, Seth swung up into the cab.
“I’ll come to check up on her later,” Ryan said. “Hopefully she’ll be conscious and able to answer some questions for me.”
The ambulance started back down the long driveway, swaying as it moved along the uneven surface. Ryan watched it turn onto the road and disappear, then he went out to the cruiser and pulled up the information on the car sitting next to the garage. When the driver’s license of Diana Mosher, age forty-two, popped up, he knew he’d found the identity of the babysitter. With a sigh, he snatched up his cell phone and put a call into Chief Kennedy. It was picked up on the second ring.
“Chief Kennedy here,” said the voice on the other end, a hint of a drawl present.
“Parker, sir.” Ryan watched as Jackson moved outside to check the perimeter. “Jackson and I are at the house of Elise St. Clair, the dispatcher. We got a call a little before four this afternoon that there had been a possible break-in here. A Ms. Diana Mosher, her babysitter, was found dead at the scene. Elise herself was unconscious. She’s been roughed up and just left in the ambulance. She has a child, age approximately two or three—we still don’t have specifics. He’s missing, and there’s evidence that someone escaped out a first-floor window. Possibly an accomplice, although I suspect from Elise’s remarks before she passed out that there might have been someone here when the house was broken into who ran with the child to hide him. If that’s the case, then that woman would be in danger, as well.”
A soft sigh of regret came through the phone. “A shame about Diana. She was an art teacher at the elementary school last year. I’ll go talk to the medical examiner and notify her next of kin. What’s Elise St. Clair’s condition?”
“Unsure, sir. She was out when the ambulance left. Jackson and I are finishing here at the scene. We have to finish checking the rest of the house and the garage. Then we’ll proceed to the hospital. We need to talk to her as soon as she wakes up.”
“Understood.”
Ryan hung up the phone and replaced it in his pocket. He couldn’t quite stem the feeling that Elise was not out of danger. He let his eyes follow the trail of destruction in the room where they’d found her. Not a thing had been touched except for the dozens of pictures that had lined the mantel and hung on the walls. Even the couple of pictures sitting on top of the bookcase in the corner had been shattered. No, this was not some random attack by a stranger. This was personal. A deliberate attack against the pretty young woman that no one seemed to know much about.
That needed to change. He needed to get to her and find out everything he could about the elusive dispatcher. Her life—and possibly the lives of two others, including a small child—depended on it.
