Her Forgotten Amish Past

by Debby Giusti

  “Go on,” Zeke encouraged.

  “I had the master key and opened the side door, never expecting to see anyone.”

  “Who was there?” Becca asked.

  “Two men. They were Hispanic and didn’t speak English. They used hand gestures and signaled for me to go away and close the door.”

  “Why?”

  “They were laying new carpet in the entryway.”

  Becca’s stomach tightened. “What did the carpet look like?”

  “It was the same carpet that is in each of the other trailers and the same as the rug that had been in the office previously. The rug had a beige background with a green trellis design.”

  The carpet Becca had seen in her dreams and on the ledge near the waterfall.

  “I left work that night never thinking anything would happen. A black car ran me off the road. I was thrown to the ground and must have hit my head. The driver got out of his car and stood near me. I was too stunned to move. He called someone on his phone and said the problem was solved and that he had taken care of me.”

  Her eyes were somber as she added, “I believe the man thought I was dead.”

  “Hopefully we will soon learn who did this to you,” Becca told the distraught woman. Hattie gave Susan a supportive hug before they left the house.

  “Who wanted to keep the new carpet installation a secret?” Zeke asked Becca and Hattie as they headed home in the buggy.

  “Probably the same men who are chasing after me,” Becca said. “Only I managed to escape serious harm. To keep Susan quiet, they tried to kill her.”

  Hattie shook her head in amazement. “And Susan is fearful, so she holes up in her house, claiming to be sick.”

  “It’s called intimidation and is against the law,” Becca said. “At least, it should be against the law.”

  Zeke flicked the reins, encouraging Sophie. “Mike Frazier is at the studio now. He plans to stop by the house on his way back to town. Maybe he will have more information.”

  “What if Landers killed Vanessa and then someone killed him?” Becca mused.

  “Or he could have taken his own life,” Hattie said with a sigh.

  Zeke nodded. “We will know something soon. Very, very soon.”

  TWENTY

  True to his word, the deputy stopped by later that day. Not wanting to be seen, Becca hurried upstairs when his knock sounded at the door.

  Hattie invited Mike in and poured him a cup of coffee.

  He sat at the table with Zeke while Hattie busied herself in the kitchen. “Care for a piece of pie, Mike?”

  “Thanks but no, Miss Hattie, although the coffee hits the spot.”

  As Mike took a long draw of the hot brew, Zeke told him about Susan Mast and her buggy accident. “Perhaps you should stop there on your way back to town.” Zeke provided the address.

  “I appreciate the information.”

  “What about Larry Landers’s death?” Zeke asked. “Are you still calling it a suicide?”

  “We’re investigating, that’s all I can tell you now. I did find some information in his trailer that was interesting.”

  The deputy opened the notebook he had placed on the table. “Landers was onto something that no one else has mentioned at the studio.”

  Zeke leaned closer.

  “Landers thought a second person had gone missing, although when I questioned the human resources department, they claimed the person had given her notice and had planned to stop working within the week, which might be the reason no one seemed concerned about another missing woman.”

  Zeke glanced at Hattie and then turned his attention back to the deputy.

  “Landers compiled some information on the woman. The gal comes from a dysfunctional home. Her mother has a record and is currently serving time.”

  “Her mother is in jail?” Hattie asked.

  “That’s right. The woman doesn’t have a record, but my guess is she’s probably been involved in some shady deals if her mother was in so much trouble.”

  “Which might not prove true,” Zeke noted.

  “I see a lot in this job, Zeke. It’s hard to find a good apple on a rotten tree, if you get my drift.”

  “What are you saying?” Hattie asked.

  “I’m saying we’ve got another missing woman who may have something to do with Vanessa Harrington’s disappearance. Landers printed a missing person flyer on the movie star and then made a second flyer on the other missing person.”

  His phone rang.

  “Excuse me while I take this.” Mike scooted back from the table and stepped toward the stairwell.

  Hattie’s eyes were wide as she stared at Zeke. He shook his head ever so slightly. Neither of them needed to say anything to the deputy about the woman upstairs. Not yet. Not until they knew more about what had happened.

  “Yeah, did you find anything?” Mike nodded. “Good fortune was on our side for a change. Run the prints through the database.” He glanced up the stairwell and nodded again. “I’ll meet you at the office.”

  Frazier returned to the table. “Thanks for the coffee, Hattie. I need to get back to town. Looks like everything is falling into place.”

  He pocketed his phone. “A couple of guys spotted a body in the river south of town. Evidently it was hung up on a downed tree.”

  “Vanessa Harrington?” Zeke asked.

  “Appears to be her. She’d been stabbed multiple times.” He picked up his notebook. “We found what we think is a murder weapon in one of the dorm rooms at the studio. A hefty letter opener covered with what looks like dried blood. The forensic guys will check it out. It’s got the studio logo on the handle. One of the deputies lifted prints, then found what appear to be similar prints on the furnishings in the room.”

  Zeke rose from the table. “Are you saying someone at the studio killed Vanessa?”

  “It looks that way. Funny to leave the murder weapon behind. But then, she left her belongings, although she didn’t have much. We found the letter opener wrapped in a small green lap quilt. Looks old. Maybe something from her youth.”

  Hattie gasped.

  The deputy glanced out the window. “That snow’s piling up. I need to get going.”

  He started for the door and then turned back. “I almost forgot. I wanted to give you folks a copy of the missing person flyer Landers created on the second woman. Not too many people live this high on the mountain. Doubt you’ll come to town soon with the bad weather. I wanted you to be on the lookout in case she appears in this area.”

  Zeke’s pulse raced as he took the paper from Mike’s outstretched hand.

  “I’ll let myself out. You folks have a good night and be careful if you see this woman. When I first learned of her disappearance, I thought it was coincidental, but finding the letter opener in her room makes her a person of interest in a murder investigation. She could be a killer. Pretty as she is, but, we all know, looks don’t mean a thing.”

  He opened the door, and a blast of cold air swirled into the kitchen. Zeke glanced at Hattie, who bit her lip and shook her head. He lifted the paper and glanced at the picture in the center of the page.

  His world rocked.

  Without saying a word, he placed the paper on the table and then grabbed his coat and hat and headed to the door. “I’ll be in the barn, Hattie. Don’t hold dinner. I’ve lost my appetite.”

  * * *

  Becca stood at the top of the stairs and heard portions of the conversation below. Closing her bedroom door behind her, she ran to the window and saw the deputy drive off, then watched as Zeke hurried to the barn.

  Hattie climbed the stairs. The look on her face scared Becca when she pulled the door open.

  “You heard?” the older woman asked.

  “I heard enough.”

  “You need to see what the
deputy gave Zeke. He is upset. I must check on him.”

  Tears burned Becca’s eyes. She took the paper from Hattie’s outstretched hand.

  “No matter what Zeke says, dear, you can stay here until all this blows over.”

  Hattie left the room and hurried down the stairs.

  A lump filled Becca’s throat. How could a movie star’s murder and a man’s suicide blow over? Did Hattie really want her to stay?

  Becca’s heart hitched. Ezekiel had left the house. No doubt, he did not want to see her again.

  Her mouth went dry. She glanced at the paper and homed in on the photo.

  Her world came to an abrupt halt.

  She studied the likeness of the woman in the picture—chestnut hair, green eyes, a slender nose, high cheekbones, full lips—then searched for a mirror, knowing full well she would not find one in this Amish house.

  Stepping to the window, she stared into the glass, seeing the faint outline of her reflection. If only she could see her own face more clearly...chestnut hair, green eyes, slender nose and full lips.

  A tearful lament issued from deep within her, gut-wrenching in its intensity as she realized the truth the flyer revealed.

  Raising her hand, she touched the glass. The photo was identical to the woman staring back at her from the windowpane.

  Becky Taylor was the name printed under the photo. She wasn’t Becca Troyer, an Amish woman. She was Becky Taylor, an Englischer who had gone missing.

  How could she have been so mistaken? Everything she had felt over the last few days since coming into this home had proved she was Amish, yet it was all a lie.

  An Amish man can only marry an Amish woman.

  Zeke couldn’t marry her. He couldn’t marry anyone who was Englisch. Plus Mike Frazier considered her a murder suspect because the letter opener, which she had thought was a bloody knife, had been found wrapped in her green quilt.

  Who was Becky Taylor? The daughter of a convict, an Englischer, according to what the sheriff’s deputy had said. Becca had wanted her memory to return, but now she was glad she couldn’t remember all the terrible details of her past life.

  No matter what Hattie said, Becca needed to leave the area. Staying on the farm would only cause Zeke and Hattie more upset, which she never wanted to do. Leaving Amish Mountain would be hard, but the hardest part would be leaving Zeke. Never seeing Zeke again would break her heart.

  * * *

  Zeke closed his ears to Hattie, but the sweet woman continued to defend Becca and encouraged Zeke to talk to her. “Things can be worked out,” his aunt insisted. “Becca is not a killer.”

  Which was what Zeke wanted to believe. The initial shock of learning Becca was a missing Englisch woman and a possible murder suspect had made him unable to think clearly. Hattie’s calm assurance that Becca was the same woman whether her name was Troyer or Taylor had brought him back to his senses.

  Surely the murder weapon had been planted in her dorm room at the studio. Was that the scene the men on the ledge had mentioned they needed to create?

  “She was upstairs earlier, Zeke. Becca needs to know that everything is all right.”

  Hattie’s words played over in his mind as he and his aunt entered the kitchen.

  “Becca?” Hattie called from the foot of the stairs.

  Failing to hear a reply, Hattie glanced at Zeke, concern covering her round face.

  “I’ll check on her,” he said, climbing the stairs two at a time.

  If Becca had overheard his conversation with the deputy, she would be frightened. He had to reassure her.

  “Becca?” He stopped at the top of the stairs, seeing her closed bedroom door.

  Needing to ensure she was okay, he tapped on the door. “Becca, it is Zeke. Are you all right?”

  He tapped again.

  His heart pounded. All sorts of scenarios played through his mind about why she was not responding. None of them were good.

  He pushed open the door, then peered inside, prepared to see her strewn across the bed with tearful eyes.

  What he found sent a jolt of fear into his heart.

  Her black bonnet and cape were gone. So was Becca.

  The missing person flyer Mike Frazier had provided lay crumpled on the floor.

  He picked it up. His gut tightened seeing Becca’s photo. How could she be involved in a movie star’s murder?

  The name printed under the photo was Becky Taylor, but the woman in the picture was Becca Troyer, a beautiful Amish woman who had worked her way into his heart.

  He had lost Irene. He could not lose Becca.

  He ran back downstairs and hurried out the front door, knowing he or Hattie would have seen Becca if she had left through the kitchen.

  “Becca,” he screamed.

  He turned to glance in all directions, studying the winter terrain, hoping to catch sight of an Amish woman in a green dress and black cape. He saw nothing, and his heart nearly stopped when his gaze fell on the path into the woods. She had run away like she had done the night he had found her in the woods. Was her amnesia merely a way to hide the truth about who she was?

  He did not care about her past. All he cared about was her present.

  “Becca,” he shouted as he ran into the woods.

  He had to find her. He had to find her before someone from the studio found her first. She was running away again, running from her past. Only this time, she was running away from Ezekiel and that cut his heart in two.

  TWENTY-ONE

  Becca fought back tears until she could hold them in no longer. They spilled down her cheeks and clouded her vision so that she couldn’t see the trail. Struggling to control her emotions and needing to keep moving forward, she pulled a handkerchief from the waistband of her dress where she had tucked it this morning and wiped her cheeks.

  Imagining footsteps, she looked back. The forest seemed to be closing in around her, like that terrible night when she had run scared.

  She was running scared again, but for another reason. Her mind was playing tricks on her. She envisioned Mike Frazier at Hattie’s house, climbing the stairs and pounding on the bedroom door, demanding to arrest Becca.

  Would he call her Becky? Was that truly her name?

  She had to get off Amish Mountain and this rural area and make her way to another place where no one would find her. But she had no money and no way to leave. She tugged at her bonnet with frustration and wanted to cry all the more.

  Yesterday, she had returned to Hattie’s farm and had found it filled with love. That was the reason she had to leave. She couldn’t let anything happen to Hattie and Zeke. They were both so special to her and such good people with loving hearts.

  So different from who she must be.

  She hated amnesia, hated that she had tumbled down a steep incline and hurt her head. Sometime that night she had lost her memory.

  Her life had changed just as it had changed when she had overheard the deputy telling Zeke about the letter opener wrapped in her quilt. Mike Frazier’s revelation about the murder weapon only compounded the pain she had felt when she learned the truth of who she really was.

  Her head throbbed thinking of what she had found out about herself. She was an Englisch woman who somehow was associated with the death—the murder—of a movie star.

  Becca shivered. The temperature was dropping. She pulled the cape around her arms and ducked her chin into the neck of her cape. She had to think of her own safety and where she could hunker down out of the wind and snow.

  “Oh God, or Gott as Zeke says, I’m lost and alone and frightened. Help me, Lord. Please. Help me.”

  * * *

  All too soon, Zeke realized searching for Becca was like trying to find a grain of sand in a bed of gravel. He retraced his steps back to the barn and harnessed Sophie to the buggy.

  Hatt
ie hurried out of the house. “What happened? Did you find her?”

  He shook his head. “She could be anywhere, although most likely, she took the path that leads up the mountain. If she left by the front door and rounded the outbuildings, the path would be the logical direction to go to ensure we did not see her.”

  “Why, Zeke? Why did she run away?”

  “She heard us talking to Mike Frazier. Learning she was Englisch and a person of interest in a murder case had to be upsetting. Perhaps she feared we would reveal her presence to Mike.”

  “I feel responsible,” Hattie said with a moan. “I gave her the missing person flyer.”

  “And I did not offer her support. Instead I ran to the barn to sort through my own thoughts.”

  “Where could she go?” Hattie lamented. “She does not know the mountain and so few folks live in this area.”

  “She is not thinking clearly and instead is reacting out of fear.”

  “The temperature is dropping. Tonight will be bitterly cold, especially for a woman wearing only a wool cape. You have to find her, Zeke.”

  “Pray that Gott leads me to her.”

  “I have been praying.” Hattie grabbed his arm. “You need to pray too.”

  “Gott does not listen to me.”

  “You feel that way because of what happened to Irene. Gott heard your prayer, but Irene had closed the Lord out of her life. The problem was not you, Zeke. The problem was Irene.” Hattie rubbed her hand over his shoulder. “You did everything right.”

  “Except I could not save her. In fact, I am responsible for her death, just as her father insists.”

  “Ach. Do not say such foolish things.”

  “It is true, Hattie. I went to the cabin to convince her to come back to Amish Mountain, but what I saw sickened me. She was burning scented candles, but the smell of acetone and other chemicals soured my stomach. Irene was high on drugs and threatened to ignite some chemicals used in making meth. I told her she had her own life to live, but what I needed and wanted was living Amish with or without her. I walked away never expecting her to act on her threat. She screamed for me to stay with her, but I did not look back...until the explosion and subsequent fire that quickly engulfed the cabin. I was still nearby but could not save her in time.”