Читать книгу Amish Covert Operation - Meghan Carver - Страница 16

As the crow flies, the drive would probably have been only a few minutes, and that certainly would have been safer. But the back roads through the hills and hollows of Northern Indiana Amish country took a bit more of a winding route. Adam found he couldn’t get over thirty miles per hour in most stretches. Slowing down for a couple of buggies didn’t help either.

The painfully slow speed also didn’t help his anxiety at the shooter still being on the loose. Would he come back for Katie? Why was he shooting at her in the first place? Would he go after a law enforcement officer? Some criminals did, and some didn’t. Adam just didn’t know enough about who this shooter might be to be able to determine his probable next move.

He tore his attention from the rearview mirror and checked both side mirrors. Through the drive, all had been clear. As he crested a hill, an Amish homestead came into view.

“There. On the right.” Katie leaned forward as if it would help her get to her children faster, her hand on the cane.

The property wasn’t large, but the whitewashed house was sizeable, the barn a cheerful red. Colorful flowers—marigolds, maybe—dotted the edge of the house and the barn. A large vegetable garden filled a back corner. As he approached, a malamute bounded forward, tail wagging and tongue lolling.

Memories of childhood time spent with Amish grandparents struggled to free themselves from the dusty corners of his mind. His grossmammi with a plate full of oatmeal cookies and a pitcher of warm milk that was fresh from their dairy cow. His grossdaadi sitting on the porch, showing him the finer points of whittling, while his cousins swung from the hayloft. Adam swallowed hard and shoved the memories back to their places. His father’s rumspringa and continuing alcoholism had altered not only his father’s life but the lives of his future children, as well. And after his father’s and brother’s untimely deaths in the automobile accident, those remembrances didn’t deserve the freedom to roam unhindered through his thoughts. The only way to assuage the grief was to maintain his laser-like focus on his job and the justice for victims that he sought every day.

Adam pulled into the lane, and a man emerged from the house, placing a straw hat on his head as he approached the vehicle. Adam opened the car door and hopped out. He smiled as warmly as he could and raised a hand in greeting, palm open and facing out, as he jogged around the front of the Tahoe. The man’s countenance was expressionless until Adam helped Katie down from the SUV. As she emerged from behind the door, a wide smile split the man’s face, and a woman with three girls, all in identical blue Amish dresses and white starched prayer kapps, stepped out of the house.

“Katie, are you all right?”

“Jah, Jed.” She leaned heavily on Adam’s forearm. Grasping the cane, she stepped toward Jed but still held on to Adam’s arm.

The woman who must have been Sarah flew toward them. The three girls followed on her heels, all chattering at once.

“Ach, Katie! Where have you been? You are injured!”

“Mamm! Are you all right?”

“What happened, Mamm?”

Sarah frowned in Adam’s direction and took Katie’s arm from him as twin girls threw their arms around Katie’s waist. Both had the same shade of dark blond hair and the same pert nose, although one appeared to have a few more freckles than the other. Adorable seemed too blasé of a word to describe them.

“Liebchen! My loves!” Katie smiled broadly and shrugged at Adam as she tried to hug both twins with Sarah hanging on. “I will be fine, Sarah. I will tell you everything inside.”

He felt himself begin to trust her a little bit more as he observed Katie’s affection for her girls. She gently pulled her arm from Sarah, and, leaning on the cane, she tucked a stray hair back into one girl’s kapp and then ran her finger down the cheek of the other girl. A smile played about her lips as she seemed to relax. With a reflex honed from training and experience, Adam glanced around the yard and down the lane to make sure all was quiet. Then he stepped toward Jed.

“You must be Jedediah Miller. Sheriff Moore told me you’re retired from Fort Wayne PD.” He extended his hand, and they shook. “I’m Adam Troyer, special agent with Immigration and Customs Enforcement, Homeland Security.”

“Call me Jed. And yes, retired police officer.”

Adam felt his eyebrows scrunch together. “You don’t sound Amish, like Katie and Sarah.”

Jed smiled. “No. Most of my growing-up was in the Englisch world. I just took my vows to join the Amish church a few months ago, so I’m still learning. I imagine it’ll be a lifelong process.” He looked Adam up and down, the smile sliding off his face. “What’s your business here?”

Before Adam could respond, Sarah called from the house. Jed turned to wave and then spun back to Adam. “Before you can answer that, we’re required to head in the house for cookies and coffee. Or tea. Or milk. Whatever’s your pleasure. It’s the Amish way.”

In the house, Adam squeezed into a place at the long table and gobbled down three of the most delicious oatmeal cookies he had ever eaten. A twin leaned on either side of Katie as she told of going to her brother’s house and then to the cabin. All eyes widened at the mention of the gunman, and Jed nodded an acknowledgment to Adam.

“You must leave Ruth and Rebekah here overnight, then.” Sarah leaned forward to run a hand down Katie’s arm. “You will rest better.”

Katie paused before answering. “Danki. That would probably be best for my recovery.”

As he reached for a fourth cookie, Adam’s phone rang, the ringtone a loud gong in the quiet Amish house. “Excuse me,” he said softly and stepped outside the back door before answering.

The late afternoon sun was beginning to cast sleepy shadows across the property, shadows that, to Adam’s way of thinking, could hold danger. But Sheriff Moore’s voice filled his ear, and the best he could do was visually survey the perimeter.

“Yeah, Troyer? We got nothing. You said you wanted to be kept in the loop, but there’s nothin’ there. We pulled the bullet from the tree.”

“I knew that before I left the site.”

“Yeah, and there was nothing worth fingerprinting inside the cabin. Pretty bare in there. All rough wood surfaces, way too porous and too recessed to collect fingerprints. Even if I could find a print, it wouldn’t stick to the lift tape. There’s no way to lift a print in a wooden cabin.”

“So, we got nothing.”

“That’s what I said.”

The door closed behind him, and Adam turned to see Jed step outside. “Thanks anyway, Sheriff.” He pocketed his phone.

“Sheriff Moore is a good guy.” Jed hesitated. “Learn anything you can share?”

“No. Didn’t learn anything at all. I don’t know anything more about what happened today than Katie does, and you know that means the investigation is at a standstill.” Adam couldn’t share anything more with Jed, but he walked slowly around the house and toward the lane, surveying, as Jed fell in step beside him. The night air cooled his skin as he breathed deeply. “You might be able to help, though. What do you know about Katie’s brother, Timothy?”

“Probably nothing more than she told you. He’s a stand-up guy and an excellent furniture-maker. Then, a couple of months ago, he stops coming around. He’s not caring for his sister’s horse anymore, not coming to church services or visiting on the off Sundays. Basically he’s nowhere to be seen.”

“What about his customers? His business?” Adam looked up and down the road and then turned to walk back up the lane.

“I don’t know. I haven’t seen him to be able to ask him. I know that’s not helpful, but I don’t have any further information. It’s like he just disappeared.”

“But he didn’t leave the community? Quit being Amish? Did he and Katie have a falling-out?” The sun dipped behind the tree line, and the first fireflies of the evening began to flash. Darkness was fine when it worked in his favor and hid him, but it could be deadly when it concealed the enemy.

“No. He’s still around. There’s evidence of that. When I stop by, his dog is obviously cared for. His yard is kept. I’ve even seen wash on the line. But he’s never there.” Jed crossed his arms over his chest, a sign of resignation. “He’s there but not there.”

“So, he knows that you’re coming and takes off?”

“It seems so. I’ve thought of contacting an old buddy of mine in Fort Wayne, but I don’t have anything to tell him. There doesn’t seem to be any evidence of wrongdoing. He just doesn’t come around.”

“You’re still in contact with people from your...former life?” Adam just couldn’t wrap his mind around the idea of leaving law enforcement to be a farmer or to build furniture, or whatever it was that Jed did to earn his living.

“Sure.”

“How did you ever decide to—”

“Join the Amish church?” Jed chuckled. “I had amnesia.”

“And then you remembered you were Amish?” Adam couldn’t keep the sarcastic tone from his voice. But to give up a career in law enforcement, a job that righted wrongs and fought for justice? He couldn’t understand that.

“No, but as I worked through the difficulties of my loss of memory, including my run-in with the guys who were after me, I realized I’d been wanting a more relaxed and slower pace to my life. I was ready to settle down, spend time raising a family, eat pie.” An easy smile stretched across his face.

It still wasn’t anything Adam could understand, although he begrudgingly admitted to himself that he admired the peace Jed seemed to have. He was ready to move on to the next topic. “What about Katie? All she told me was that her brother is her only family left.”

“That’s probably about all you’re going to get as far as information goes. I haven’t known her long, but Sarah tells me Katie’s husband was killed in an accident at the sawmill. It’s been a struggle for her since, but we help as much as we can. And her brother has always been helpful, until just recently. The Amish take care of each other, especially families.”

“Would she be helpful in the investigation?”

“The Amish don’t like to mix with law enforcement. They keep to themselves as much as they can. Considering what the former sheriff was like, I can’t say I blame them all the time.” Jed shook his head and smiled. “I should say we keep to ourselves as much as possible. It’s only been a few months since I joined the church, and it’s going to take a while to get used to. With Katie, though, I think she honestly doesn’t know anything about her brother. Just give her time. The Amish believe patience is a virtue.”

Adam touched his weapon in its holster, his fingers rubbing on the smooth leather, and scanned the perimeter again. For too long he had been investigating a suspected ring of identity-document smugglers. Counterfeit passports and social security cards had been leaching out of the Chicago area and turning up all over the Midwest. Katie’s brother had been missing in action for two months, there but not there, and now it seemed that someone was willing to shoot at Katie. Patience may be a virtue, but he didn’t have time to wait. The sooner justice could be administered, the better.

* * *

Katie might be Amish but that didn’t mean she was naive. She noticed things. A lot of things. Facial expressions. Unspoken words. Nearly imperceptible gestures. She had clearly seen Adam’s skeptical look in her direction when he had stepped out to take his telephone call. His brown eyes had clouded with uncertainty. The man doubted her, and to some extent she could understand why.

Her own bruder, her only bruder, was a person of interest. What was that phrase? Guilt by association.

But she wasn’t guilty. She was scared and doing her best to trust in the goodness and divine will of Gott.

Katie sipped her coffee and forced herself to make conversation, trying not to stare out the window. Eventually Adam returned, and although he didn’t exactly smile at her, it seemed that his clouds of doubt had cleared. Perhaps whatever private conversation he had had with Jed had satisfied him.

He grabbed another cookie and bit off half. “Ready to go?”

“Jah.” She hugged her twins tightly, cherishing the softness of their cheeks against hers, planting kisses on their foreheads, engraving their cherub faces in her mind’s eye.

As she stood, Sarah gathered the twins to the folds of her skirt. Sarah’s daughter, Lyddie, stood nearby, just a couple of years older and a gut friend to her girls. “It is only for tonight,” Sarah reassured her. “Tomorrow you will be together again.”

After Adam had checked the front yard, she hobbled back to his SUV and allowed him to help her in. Her leg was feeling better, but she still appreciated his assistance, as well as the cane he had whittled. After Katie waved one last goodbye through the window, the vehicle roared down the road.

With Adam’s driving speed, it did not take long to reach home. Of course she had ridden in a vehicle, but Adam seemed to drive much faster than other drivers, with trees and bushes and homes whizzing past at a tremendous pace. As he pulled into her lane, she grasped the door handle to keep herself upright.

When he put the vehicle into Park, she turned to him. His eyes flashed in the dim interior of the vehicle, seeming to reflect the moonlight, and she forced her gaze toward her house and away from him. His handsomeness was not something upon which she should dwell. “Danki, Special Agent Troyer. I have much for which to thank you. Saving my life, whittling the cane, driving me home. You have protected me, and I am grateful.”

He retrieved a business card from his wallet. “If your brother contacts you or you think of anything that might be helpful, can you get to a telephone and call me? Or if your leg does not heal well and you want to get to the hospital, call me and I’ll come for you. Is there a phone nearby?”

Shadows played around his angular features when she glanced at him. “Jah, a couple of houses down the road.” It would not do for her to find him handsome. There was nothing that could come of it. If she ever did remarry, it would be to an Amish man, not a brooding, weapon-carrying Englischer.

He simply nodded and hopped out of the vehicle, jogging around the front to offer her assistance. “I’ll get your bicycle and then wait until you get inside and turn on a light.”

“Danki. Just lean the bicycle against the porch railing.” She stole one last glance at his strong profile. “Good night.”

“Good night,” he called over his shoulder as he parked the bicycle.

She opened the front door, stepped inside and closed the door behind her. By the light of the moon, she stepped toward the propane-powered lamp in the living room, running her hand along the top of the easy chair. If she had come in the back, there would have been a battery-powered lantern at the door. But she hadn’t expected to be dropped off in a government agent’s vehicle after dark.

On her third step, she paused, the skin on her arms rippling into goose bumps. Was someone else in the room? It didn’t feel right somehow, and her heart slammed against her chest. Slowly she turned in a circle, peering into the darkness. The moonlight that had seemed so bright outside suddenly seemed extinguished within the house.

She spied a figure at the back door, and adrenaline spiked through her arteries, her fingers digging into the chair back. But it was only her winter cape hanging on a hook at the back door. Now that warm weather was here for the summer, she ought to store it away.

Her mind was playing tricks on her. That was all. She straightened her apron and inhaled deeply, then took the last few steps to the lamp. With her hand on the knob to regulate the propane, and her other hand reaching for the lighter, a voice hissed at her from the darkness.

“Katie, no.”

As if acting independently, her hands jerked back from the lamp and clutched the bodice of her dress. She knew that voice.

A tall figure stepped out from its hiding place, pressed against an armoire near a particularly dark edge of the living room.

She gasped. “Timothy!” Dizziness threatened her, but she gulped air to fight it.

“Shh.” He grasped her shoulders and pulled her into a tight hug. A moment later, he pulled away with a quick glance out the back window.

“I have been looking for you. Where have you been? Are you well? Are you in trouble?”

“I cannot stay.” He pulled her hand toward him and pressed a folded piece of paper into her palm.

Instinctually she closed her fingers around it. “Whatever you are involved in, turn yourself in before you are caught. I will help you.”

“I am innocent. Whatever they tell you, believe that.” He paused, the intensity of his gaze drilling into her. “What I do is for you. For the twins.”

A car door sounded from outside, and Katie jerked her gaze toward the front window. Adam had been waiting for her to turn on the lamp. But Timothy’s hands slid away, and with a few long-legged strides, he was at the back door. As if she were made of stone, Katie couldn’t move. Should she run for Adam, tell him she was safe and that she had found Timothy? Or run for her bruder, her only family? Then, without a word, Timothy slipped away.

The corner of the folded paper poked into the flesh of her palm, and she unfolded it and scanned it quickly. It was simply a series of numbers. There was something familiar about the groupings of the numbers, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. Whatever it was, it must be important, considering the clandestine method of conveyance.

There was no time to decipher it now. Adam knocked softly at the door. Her heart still pounding, Katie quickly refolded the note and tucked it up inside her prayer kapp. Right or wrong, there wasn’t time now to examine her motives for keeping the secret a little longer, until she had opportunity to figure it out.

She opened the door, and Adam stepped in, scanning the living room. “Are you all right? You never turned on the light.” Then his eyes seemed to stop at the open back door.

“I am fine.” She swallowed hard. “But mein bruder was here. He is gone now. Out the back.” As she spoke, she spied a figure running through the side yard and into the adjoining cornfield.

“Stay here. Light the lamp. Lock the doors.” And Adam was gone, running through the back door and after the figure in the cornfield.

Katie pressed a hand to her chest as if that could slow her heart rate to normal. At least she had seen her bruder, and he had appeared to be well. But what was going on?

At the back door, she grasped the knob to close and lock it, when a man appeared in the shadowed doorway. Forcing down her surprise, she opened the door farther. “Danki for returning, Timothy. It will be better for you if you come forward.”

But as the man stepped through the doorway and out of the shadow, she saw he wasn’t Timothy. This man was taller, bigger, with an unkempt beard and a look of malice in his eyes. A scream stuck somewhere in her throat, and she turned to run for the front. That door was still unlocked. It would be her escape.

But as she turned, the man grabbed her from behind, pinning her arms to her sides. “It’s not Timothy.” His whisper blew sour breath in her ear. “But I know he was here.”

Katie squeezed her eyes shut, as if that would block out his horrible threats of how he would harm her if she didn’t tell him everything that had just happened. “How did you know we were at the cabin? Did he give you anything? Where did he go?” The man’s hands slid into her apron pockets but came out empty. She pictured the folded piece of paper tucked securely in her kapp but immediately forced it from her mind. She didn’t fight back, but she certainly wasn’t obligated to tell him anything.

He pushed her farther into the house, kicking the door shut behind him.

Herr Gott, help me! The pain from the bullet wound seized her leg, and she stumbled. He cursed her, and she longed to cover her ears. But he held her arms tightly.

Over the sound of his raspy breathing, she heard the door open again and tossed up a quick prayer that her attacker hadn’t heard it. But as quickly as she could utter the words, he let her go and turned toward the sound. Adam rushed the man, barreling straight at him. Together, they fell into a wooden chair. The sound of splintering wood filled the room, along with the struggle of the two men.

Alarm filled Katie. She grasped one hand in the other in a vain attempt to stop her trembling. What could she do to stop this? To restore order to her simple world? But her mind could barely comprehend the fighting in her home, let alone figure out a way to stop it.

With a punch to the attacker’s jaw, Adam subdued the man. Adam jumped up from the floor and drew his weapon, pointing it at the intruder. “Up. On your feet.” Adam’s voice held an austerity that Katie hadn’t heard before. “Now, let’s get some answers.”

The man slowly stood, his hands on his knees as he pushed himself upright. As he straightened, he jerked to the side and grabbed a kitchen chair with both hands. In an instant, the chair was airborne and flying toward Katie.

The room seemed to stand still for a split second, the chair suspended in midair as it hurtled toward her. All breathing stopped. Could this really be happening?

Then all was moving again. She lunged to the right to dodge the chair, placing her weight squarely on her injured leg. Overwhelming pain shot through her body. Her leg collapsed underneath her. As she fell, she glimpsed the two men struggling over the gun, her attacker with his hands on the weapon and turning it to point at Adam.

Her head hit the floor as she heard the gun go off. A moment later, darkness swallowed her.