Читать книгу Amish Refuge - Debby Giusti - Страница 12
ОглавлениеStanding at the kitchen counter, Abram gulped down the last swig of coffee and wondered again about what had brought the mysterious woman to his door.
Should he have told Samuel? Her fear the night before had made Abram hesitant about revealing her presence. Thankfully his uncle had not asked him point-blank about the woman. Abram would not lie, but he need not divulge information that could terrorize her even more.
He placed the mug in the sink and rubbed his temple to still the pressure that had built up over the long hours he had tried to sleep. Seeing the woman wearing Rebecca’s clothing had been a new stab to his heart. Of course, Emma had not realized the effect it would have on him.
The woman needed clothes to wear while her own things were being washed. His sister was shorter than their visitor, so offering Rebecca’s dress had been a practical solution, except for what it had done to his equilibrium.
“You wanted to talk to me?”
He startled at the sound of the woman’s voice and turned to face his guest. “I did not hear you come down the stairs.”
His heart lurched again, seeing her in Rebecca’s dress. He gripped the kitchen counter to steady himself and to make certain he was in the present and not dreaming of his wife yet with another face.
In an attempt to slow his racing heart, he searched for common ground. “The coffee is hot.”
She shook her head. A strand of hair fell over her pale cheek. “I’m full from breakfast.”
“Then you had enough to eat?”
“More than enough. I’m grateful for your hospitality.”
“I do not know your name.”
“Miriam,” she quickly replied.
He waited, expecting more. Then, when she failed to respond, he raised his brow. “Should you not have a family name, as well?”
“Of course.” Her face flushed. “It’s Miller.”
“Your father’s name?”
“Actually, it was my mother’s surname.” She paused before adding, “My mother lived in Willkommen as a child. I was headed there to find her sister, but I got lost on the mountain roads. Is the town far?”
“Ten miles at most.”
She took a step closer, her gaze expectant. “Then you might know Annie Miller.”
“I know Eli Miller. His wife’s name is Hattie. Perhaps your aunt has married?”
“I... I...” She faltered. “I don’t know. My mother had only recently mentioned that she had a sister.”
“You should ask more from your mother.”
She wrung her hands. “I could call my sister if I had my phone.”
“Could your phone have dropped from your pocket?” he offered, hoping to soothe her unease.
“Maybe. I’m not sure. What about a computer? I mentioned it upstairs, but you didn’t answer me. Don’t some Amish people use computers for business?”
“I do not have electricity to run a computer, nor a computer. That is not the way I live.”
She held up her hand. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”
“I did not take your comment as an offense.”
Her oval face was tight with worry. She rubbed her arms.
“You are cold?” he asked, concerned for her well-being.
“I’m fine, except I need my phone.”
“There are phones in Willkommen. You can call from there.”
She raised her hand to her forehand and carefully played her fingertips over the blackened bruise. “The problem is that I can’t remember my sister’s number. We haven’t talked in...”
She shook her head and bit her lip as if she couldn’t finish the thought that played heavy on her heart. “My sister’s number is programmed in the contacts on my cell, that’s why I need to find my phone.”
“Perhaps you cannot remember her number because you are tired. You did not sleep well?”
She dropped her hand and bristled ever so slightly. “My problem is not lack of sleep.”
He had pushed too far. Abram pointed to her forehead. “Someone hit you?”
“I fell,” she corrected. “Your sister was kind enough to clean the wound last night.”
A man had chased after her. A man who, according to her own words, wanted to kill her. A husband perhaps. Abram glanced at her left hand where he had not seen a ring as the Englisch were accustomed to wear. He did, however, see the bruise marks around her wrists.
Nervously she wiped her hands along the fabric of her dress. “Thank you for the clothing. It belongs to someone in your family? Your wife? She...” A furtive glance. “She is away?”
“My sister did not tell you?”
Innocent eyes. How could someone seemingly so open with her gaze be chased by a crazed man? He hesitated, weighing the thoughts that tangled through his mind.
“Tell me what, Abram?”
His chest tightened at the inflection of her voice when she said his given name.
“I’m sorry,” she quickly added.
Had she noticed his surprise?
“Is it impolite to use your first name?” she asked. “I don’t know Amish customs nor your last name.”
“Zook. My name is Abram Zook. My wife, Rebecca, and my unborn child died three years ago.”
Miriam’s face clouded as if feeling his pain. “I’m sorry, Mr. Zook, and I apologize for any impropriety on my part.” She touched the bodice of the dress Rebecca had so carefully stitched.
The front panel had challenged his wife when the fabric refused to lay straight. The memory of her bright smile when she had mastered the problem brought heaviness to his heart. The dress had been the last she had made before learning she was with child.
He turned, unable to face the woman in his wife’s clothing. Instead he stared through the kitchen window. His gaze took in the hillside and the winding road that had brought the Englisch woman to his door.
“I’ve upset you after you were nice enough to take me in.” She sighed. “As soon as I have my phone, I’ll be on my way.”
Slowly he turned to face her, needing to gauge her reaction to his next statement. “The sheriff said a car ran off the road, not far from here, but in the next county.”
Fear clouded her eyes. She rubbed her neck and glanced down. “Did...did you tell the sheriff about me?”
“He did not ask if I had visitors so I did not tell him.”
She glanced up, her gaze a swirl of unrest. “I haven’t done anything wrong.”
“I did not think you had.” He hesitated a long moment before adding, “Yet a man followed you last night. He is your husband?”
Shock—no, horror—washed over her pale face. “I would never have anything to do with an animal like him.”
“Yet he was looking for you.”
She raised her chin. “I ask that you trust me. I’m innocent of any wrongdoing, but the man is evil. I don’t want you or your sister to get involved. That’s why I have to leave. Now. Can you take me to Willkommen? From there, I can catch a bus to Atlanta.”
“I will take you to Willkommen, but not today.” Not while law enforcement in two counties was investigating an abandoned car. For her own safety, the woman needed to stay put.
“But I have to contact my older sister in Atlanta.”
He nodded. “You can do so when we go to town tomorrow.”
She took a step back. Frustration clouded her gaze. “What will I do until then?”
The back door opened and Emma stepped inside, carrying a basket of apples. She glanced questioningly at Miriam and then at her brother.
He lifted his hat off the wall peg and stepped toward the open door. “Our guest wishes to help you.”
His sister’s face darkened. “Where are you going, Abram?”
“The fence needs repair. Lock the door after I am gone.”
Emma caught his arm. “You are worried that the sheriff will return?”
“I am not worried.” He stepped onto the porch.
“You did not eat this morning, Abram,” his sister called after him. “You will be hungry.”
“I will survive.”
“Yah. You are a strong man.”
Before the door closed he heard Emma’s final comment. “Perhaps too strong.”
His sister knew his weakness almost as well as he knew it himself.
“Gott,” he mumbled, looking up at the sky and shaking his head with regret. “Forgive me for my prideful heart.”
* * *
“Wait!” Miriam hurried past a startled Emma and grabbed a black cape off the hook by the door. Throwing it around her shoulders, she raced from the house.
“Abram,” she called.
Surprise registered on his square face as he turned. Or was it impatience? With his pensive gaze and stoic expression, the man was hard to read.
“I need your help,” she said, running toward him.
He hesitated a moment, probably thinking of the fence that demanded his attention.
“You’re right about my phone.” Miriam stopped short of where he stood. “It must have fallen from my pocket.”
She looked at the winding mountain road in the distance and the grassy pasture that led toward a thick wood. “But, I’m confused. Do you know the direction I would have walked last night? I remember coming through the woods, then a clearing.”
“The sheriff mentioned a car bogged in mud at the river’s edge.” Abram pointed to the stand of trees at the far side of the pasture. “The county line is just beyond those pines that mark the end of my property. The river curves close to the road there. I believe it is where you left your car.”
Overwhelmed by the vast area she would have to cover, Miriam pulled in a deep breath and nodded with resolve. “I’ll start by looking around the house first.”
“You have heard the saying, ‘a needle in a haystack’?”
The seriousness of his tone made her smile. “Does that mean I should give up before I start?”
His full lips twitched and a spark of levity brightened his gaze. “We will search together. I will help you, Miriam.”
She liked the way he said her name as well as his offer of assistance. Returning his almost smile with one of her own, she felt a huge weight lift off her shoulders. “Thank you, Abram.”
“We will begin here.” He pointed to the stepping stones upon which they stood. “And we will take the path through the pasture. Perhaps you followed it last night.”
Without further delay he dropped his gaze and walked slowly toward the drive. Miriam followed close behind him, searching the winter grass cut short enough that a cell phone would be visible.
On the far side of the dirt drive she paused and breathed in the serenity of the setting, then smiled as a big dog with long, golden hair ambled out of the barn. She patted her hand against her thigh, calling him closer. “What’s the pup’s name?”
Abram stopped to watch the dog sidle next to Miriam. “His name is Bear.”
She rubbed behind the dog’s ear. “You’re big as a bear, but sweet.” She cooed to the dog before looking up at Abram. “He’s part golden retriever?”
“With a mix of Lab.”
Again she lowered her gaze to the dog. “How come I haven’t seen you before this?” Bear wagged his tail and nuzzled closer as if enjoying the attention.
“He sleeps in the barn. You did not see him last night because I had closed the doors to keep the horses warm.”
“I’m glad I got to meet you today, Bear.” With a final pat to the dog’s head, Miriam straightened and took in the pristine acreage around Abram’s house. In the distance, a number of horses grazed on the hillside. “The animals are yours?”
“Yah. The others are in the barn.” A look of pride and accomplishment wrapped around his handsome face. “Horses are necessary for the Amish way of life. They provide transportation. They pull our plows and haul produce and products to market.”
“They’re beautiful, but a car and tractor would make your life easier.”
“Easier does not mean better.” He returned to his search, leaving her to ponder his statement.
So many people yearned for modern conveniences to enhance their quality of life. But did possessions bring contentment?
Her mother had traveled the country, looking for happiness. Instead she had found unrest and confusion.
In her youth Miriam had longed for a father to love her and the security of a stable home. She had found neither.
Like the elusive memories of her past, the wind tugged at the hem of her dress and wrapped the fabric around her legs. For a fleeting moment she felt a new appreciation for the Amish way and almost a kinship with this man who embraced the simple life.
Hurrying to catch up to Abram, she asked, “What can you tell me about the sheriff? He’s from Willkommen?”
“Originally he came from Tennessee. His name is Samuel Kurtz. He is my mother’s brother.”
Not what she had expected to hear. “The sheriff is your uncle?”
Abram studied the surprise she was hard-pressed to control. “Does that seem strange to you?” he asked.
“A bit.” Actually it surprised her a lot. “How can an Amish man work in law enforcement?”
“Before baptism, young men and women decide how they will live their lives, whether they will remain in the community or move elsewhere. My uncle did not wish to remain Amish. Our family is from Ethridge, Tennessee. Samuel came to Georgia to make a new life for himself. He is respected here. A year ago, he was elected sheriff.”
“You moved here to be near your uncle?”
“The land brought me. The price was good. I wanted to make a new home for myself and my wife.”
“Did you ever consider leaving the Amish way, like your uncle?”
“Once, but I was young and foolish. Thankfully, I changed my mind and realized what I would be leaving.” His eyes softened. “The Amish walk a narrow path, Miriam, but we know where it leads. My uncle wanted something else for his life.”
“And he’s happy?” she quizzed.
“You will have to ask him.” Abram motioned her toward a path that cut across the pasture. “This is the way you walked last night.”
She glanced back at the house. “How can you be so certain?”
“Your footprint is there in the dirt.”
Glancing at where he pointed, she recognized the faint outline of her shoe.
“Which means we don’t have to search the entire pasture to find my cell.” Feeling a swell of relief, Miriam hurried forward, hoping her phone would be as easy to find as her footprint.
Abram led the way, seemingly intent on the quest, until the sound of a motor vehicle turned his gaze to the road.
“A car is coming,” he warned. “You must go back to the house.”
She wasn’t ready to give up the search. “I haven’t found my cell.”
He took her arm, his grasp firm, and turned her around. “Hurry. Someone comes.”
The intensity of his tone drove home the danger of being seen. Fear overcame her and she ran toward the house. Was she running for protection or running into a trap?
* * *
Everything inside Abram screamed that he had to protect Miriam. From what or from whom, he was not sure.
He ran to the road and stepped onto the pavement just as the Willkommen sheriff’s car rounded the bend. Abram glanced back at the pasture. Miriam was still running, the black cape billowing out behind her.
His heart thumped a warning for her and one for himself, as well. His actions since Miriam had stumbled onto his porch were so outside the norm that it seemed as if someone else had taken control of his body and his mind.
Seeing his uncle at the wheel of the squad car, Abram raised his hand in greeting. Samuel slowed the vehicle to a stop and rolled down the window. Abram leaned into the car.
His uncle’s face was drawn, his eyes filled with sadness.
“Go home, Abram, and lock your doors.” Samuel flicked his gaze to the fleeing figure in the distance. “Keep Emma inside.”
Thankfully, his uncle had not questioned Miriam’s even gait and, instead, had mistaken the Englischer for his sister.
Knowing something serious was underfoot, Abram pressed for more information. “What is it you are trying to tell me, Samuel?”
“I mentioned that the Petersville police found a car at the river’s edge. When I got there, they were searching the back seat and taking prints. They found a woman’s purse.”
“The handbag belongs to the person who owns the car?”
The sheriff nodded but the pull of his jaw told Abram more than a purse was at stake.
“The trunk of the car was locked. They were preparing to break it open when I left.”
A nerve twitched in Abram’s jaw. A roar filled his ears. He strained to hear the sheriff’s words.
“The car is registered to a woman, age twenty-four. The police are trying to track her down.”
Emma’s warning about Miriam floated again through Abram’s mind. She will bring trouble to this house.
What had become of the peace and surety of his life? Overnight he had gone from calm to chaos.
“The woman who owns the car is from a small town outside Knoxville,” Samuel continued. “One of Chief Tucker’s officers contacted the authorities there. Seems she lived with her mother and younger sister. All three women have been missing for a number of days. No one knows where they went. The daughter told the neighbors her mother had Alzheimer’s, yet the neighbors claimed the mother seemed normal.”
Miriam had not mentioned her mother’s dementia.
“The younger sister’s twenty-one.” The sheriff tugged on his jaw. “She’s missing, as well.”
“What are you saying, Samuel?”
“I’m saying you need to be on guard, Abram. Deputy Idler will stop by once they learn what’s in the trunk. I wanted him to alert you and the other Amish families who live out here if anything points to foul play. The circumstances are different, but I keep thinking about Rosie Glick, that Amish girl who went missing some months ago.”
“Supposedly, Rose ran off with an Englisch boy.”
“That’s what we thought at the time. Now I’m not so sure.”
Abram could no longer keep silent. “There is something I need to tell you, Samuel, that might tie—”
Glancing at his watch, the sheriff held up his hand to cut Abram off. “It’ll have to wait. I’ve got to get back to town. Art Garner, one of my deputies, was involved in a vehicular accident on the road leading up Pine Lodge Mountain. He’s being air-evacuated to Atlanta. I told his wife I’d drive her to the hospital.”
“You will return tomorrow?”
The sheriff shook his head. “I need to handle some business while I’m in the city and won’t be back for at least three days. The Petersville police will be in charge of the investigation. Idler will be the point of contact on our end. He’ll keep you updated if new information surfaces.”
The sheriff narrowed his gaze. “Be careful, Abram. Watch your back until the women are found.”
“But, Samuel—” Before Abram could mention his houseguest, the sheriff pulled his sedan onto the roadway and sped down the hill, taking the fork in the road that headed to Willkommen.
Tension tightened Abram’s spine as he gazed at his house in the distance. Miriam had come back out of the house and was standing on the porch, tugging at her hair. Was she fearful of what the sheriff had found?
Slowly he walked toward her. In his mind, he laid out the many questions he needed to ask. Before he reached the drive, the sound of another car cut through the stillness.
“Go inside, Miriam,” he called. “Now.”
Her eyes widened, but thankfully she complied and closed the door behind her just as one of the Willkommen deputy’s cars pulled into the drive.
Curtis Idler, midforties with a muscular build and receding hairline, climbed from the passenger side and nodded to Abram. He pointed to a second deputy behind the wheel. “You know Ned Quigley?”
“We have never met, but Samuel has mentioned his name.” Abram bent and peered into the squad car. Ned was probably ten years younger than Idler, but a big man with full cheeks and curly hair. The deputy raised his hand in greeting. Abram nodded before turning his focus to Idler.
A scowl covered the older deputy’s drawn face and angled jaw. “I came to warn you, Abram. A woman, probably midfifties, was shot twice. Her body was locked in the trunk of the car that was abandoned by the river. Looks like she’s been dead a few days. Thankfully she was zipped up tight in a plastic mattress bag or you would have smelled her even here.”
Abram’s stomach soured at the thought of the dead woman jammed into the trunk of a car.
Idler pulled a smartphone from his pocket. He tapped on the cell a number of times and then angled the screen so Abram could see the picture that came into view.
“I know you Amish are against photography, but you need to see this.”
As much as Abram did not want to look at the phone, his eyes were drawn there.
“The murdered woman’s name is Leah Miller. She’s from Tennessee. This is the suspect we’re looking for,” the deputy continued. “A killer who’s considered armed and dangerous.”
Abram’s heart lurched as he stared at the photo.
A killer? Armed and dangerous?
Something was terribly wrong.
Abram fought to control his emotions as Idler climbed into the passenger seat and Quigley backed the car out of the drive.
All Abram could see was the photo on Idler’s phone.
The photo was of Miriam.
Miriam was not a killer. Or was she?
