Amish Country Secret
Page 20
“Wait here,” she said. “I’m going to tend to Maisy and change out of these pajamas. Then we need to have a talk.” She disappeared up a hallway.
Ethan frowned. Why had Isabelle Drayton involved an innocent outsider in an incendiary situation? Then again, maybe she believed leaving her baby with someone else while she led the pursuers away was the best method to protect her child. Things hadn’t worked out that way, though. Drayton’s people had been right on Isabelle’s heels, and she’d brought danger to the doorstep of the home where her baby was now stashed.
The sudden cessation of Maisy’s crying brought Ethan’s head up. Had something happened? Tension ebbed as Ms. Werth strolled back into the living room. She was dressed in navy capris and a button-down blouse. A set of papers was clamped under one arm as she cradled an infant, who sucked noisily on a bottle.
“This must be Maisy,” Ethan said. “We’ll have to take her into federal custody now.”
“Take her?” Ms. Werth lifted her chin. “Not without my say-so.”
“I’m afraid you have no legal jurisdiction—”
“I have documents that say I do. Help yourself.” She nodded toward the sheaf under her arm.
Ethan took the pages and studied them. “You’ve accepted power of attorney for Maisy Drayton?”
“Izzy showed up at midnight last night, and I gave her and Maisy a room to stay. This morning, Izzy was gone, but she left Maisy and these papers. The document says that at this moment, I make the decisions regarding Maisy’s well-being. I could even become her permanent guardian if something happens to Izzy.”
Ethan set the papers on a nearby coffee table. “Then you can legally turn the child over to the marshals service. She’ll be well looked after, I promise you.”
Ms. Werth blinked and looked away. Signs of indecision?
“You have no attachment to the child nor she to you.” Ethan pressed his advantage.
Ms. Werth’s gaze flew to his, and her eyes narrowed. “How do you know anything about what attachments have been formed?”
“I guess I don’t, but—”
“I need to understand a lot more about the situation before I hand her over to anyone else’s care. You can’t come in here and swoop a child away willy-nilly.” She thrust out her chin. “I’m sure a bunch of federal deputies are going to change her diaper with one hand and hold their guns in the other. A baby needs a caregiver’s full attention.”
“Whoa!” Ethan lifted his hands, palms out. “It’s not like that. A social worker will be assigned to—”
“A social worker is going to care about Maisy more than I would?” Ms. Werth’s tone had risen and sharpened.
Ethan’s jaw tensed. He must be losing his negotiation skills, because this chat was going sideways fast.
“Please let me explain,” he said.
Ms. Werth’s glare dared him to try.
“Maisy’s grandfather has taken up the hunt for her on behalf of his son, Ronald, who recently escaped from the maximum-security Stateville Correctional Center near Chicago. The US Marshals Service was hoping to pick up Ronnie’s trail by locating his estranged wife and daughter, but Isabelle and Maisy were on the run by the time deputy marshals arrived at her apartment. Her place had been trashed, and there were traces of a struggle and some blood.”
Ms. Werth nodded. “Isabelle arrived here bruised and limping. She didn’t say who attacked her. I just assumed it was her husband since she said she was running from him.”
“As the deputy marshals exited the apartment,” Ethan continued, “they spotted Seton, a known felon, leaving the area in a hurry. Deputies followed him, thinking he’d discovered a clue to Isabelle and Maisy’s whereabouts. The marshals service tailed him from state to state. When Seton reached Wyoming, Terry and I, from the Casper office, took over. We stayed on him all the way here to your house. I understand you want to make sure Maisy is taken care of, but do you want more mercenaries showing up on your doorstep?”
Ms. Werth’s gaze darted toward her porch, where muffled voices indicated EMTs and local police had arrived.
“Clearly, the answer is no. I don’t want any more such visits.” She returned her attention to Ethan. “Is that guy out there a mercenary?”
“Dolf Seton is half human bloodhound, if you want something or someone found, and half cold-blooded killer, if you don’t care who dies during the search.”
Ms. Werth cuddled the infant closer. “I know his intention was to scare me, but would the man really have killed me?”
“Seton would’ve killed you without a blink or a qualm if you’d stood between him and his objective. He probably would’ve shot you after he grabbed Maisy, simply to tie up loose ends. This is the sort of person Vincent Drayton has assigned to locate and seize his granddaughter. We believe now that his son is at large, Vincent intends to grab the child and flee the country with his family. Hopefully, we can continue to thwart his efforts and lure him and Ronnie out into the open and arrest them.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me!” Ms. Werth gaped at him. “The baby is bait? I knew there was a motive deeper than protection somewhere in the mix.”
“Not deeper.” Ethan heaved a large sigh. “We absolutely want to keep the baby safe, but we also want to make the world safe from the Draytons and their gunrunning operation. They don’t care who buys their weapons as long as they get paid.”
“They sell to terrorists?”
Ethan nodded. “And Maisy won’t truly be safe until they are put away.”
Ms. Werth’s gaze lowered toward the baby. “I do want her safe.” The tone was thoughtful now, not adversarial. “But what she really deserves is to have her mother with her. Can you find Isabelle?” She directed a pleading expression toward Ethan.
That wide green-mixed-with-gold gaze ambushed him and melted a layer of the shield around his heart. The last time he’d let down his emotional guard on the job, people had almost died, including a child. Thankfully, everyone survived and the investigation had exonerated him of any fault. But he still wondered if he’d allowed his judgment to be impaired by his affections. History was not going to repeat itself.
Ethan cleared his throat. “We’ll certainly try. And not just the marshals service. Multiple law enforcement agencies are in on the manhunt. If you don’t want Maisy in the care of a social worker, are you willing to come under marshals service protection with her? You probably should do that anyway. Even if we remove the child from your custody, the Draytons are likely to send someone after you to find out if you know where Izzy or Maisy are. The situation would not turn out well for you.”
“I don’t know. I—”
“Hey, Ethan!” Terry entered the room at a trot. The guy rarely did anything slowly. “I’m going to ride to the hospital with our suspect, make sure he gets his wound treated and then question him about the Draytons. You got everything under control in here?”
“Deputy Ridgeway was just explaining my options to me,” Ms. Werth answered before Ethan could get a word out. “Nothing’s been decided yet.”
“Cute kid.” Terry stepped forward and ran his finger under Maisy’s chin. The baby chortled and kicked, sending milk bubbles down her little chin. “Ticklish, huh?” He grinned at Ms. Werth.
Lara answered with a dazzling smile that transformed her face from head-turning pretty to eat-your-heart-out gorgeous. Ethan mentally kicked himself for noticing.
“Ms. Werth and Maisy Drayton are under my protection,” Ethan said, his tone a shade more forceful than he’d intended, and his reluctant hostess awarded him a cold stare.
“Sounds good,” Terry said. “I’ll see you at the safe house.” Ethan’s partner waved and loped out the door.
Ethan turned toward Ms. Werth. “I don’t see that you have any options if you truly care about the safety of this baby and yourself.”
The woman frown
ed. “I wish you weren’t right, but I’m not one to cut off my nose to spite my face. Maisy’s finished eating now.” She popped the empty bottle from the infant’s mouth. “I’ll get her stuff and my go bag.”
“You have a go bag?” Ethan’s eyes widened.
She smirked at him. “I’m a nature-photography vlogger. I always keep a full backpack of travel essentials. You—” she waved a hand in his direction “—can get the infant carrier from the spare bedroom—Oh, no!”
“What?”
“We don’t have the base for the car seat.”
“There’s a car seat piece that a baby carrier fits into sitting out on the porch. I noticed it when I kicked Seton’s gun away.”
“Observant.” A mild grin crossed her face.
A spot of warmth formed under Ethan’s breastbone. He squashed it. What did he care that she’d said something nice about him? This woman was his charge, and he was doing his job. Nothing more. Ethan gave himself another mental kick. Why was he even having this internal conversation?
Within a gratifyingly brief five minutes, they were headed out the door toward the deputy’s vehicle. Going down the sidewalk, Ms. Werth sent a longing look over her shoulder at her house, but then pointed her face forward. Ethan wrestled the car seat into place in the back seat of his SUV, and Ms. Werth snapped the carrier into place.
“Easier than I thought it would be,” she said. “I’ll ride in the back with Maisy.”
“Good idea.” At least there wasn’t going to be debate on this subject.
Ethan got behind the wheel and started the vehicle. He pulled smoothly away from the curb and onto the quiet road of the modest but well-kept residential cul-de-sac. Ahead of them, from a busy cross street, a full-sized black sedan turned onto Ms. Werth’s road and then a second one pulled up right beside the first, blocking the road. Ethan’s heart formed a fist.
“Remember my question about not wanting more of Drayton’s hired guns on your doorstep?”
“Of course,” his charge answered.
“They’re here.”
Copyright © 2021 by Jill Elizabeth Nelson
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ISBN-13: 9781488072161
Amish Country Secret
Copyright © 2021 by Lenora H. Nazworth
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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