by Mary Alford
“Tell me about the Warrens,” she said, needing to get her mind off the crippling fear invading every thought.
Sutter smiled. “The husband was once a deputy. Sheriff Collins says Noah Warren has a wife and little girl. You’ll be more comfortable there, and you’ll be safe.”
She so wanted to believe him.
Dr. Rolland stepped into the room along with one of the nurses.
Nurse Beverly looked her up and down. “Those clothes fit you nicely.” She handed Catherine a jacket. “It’s cold outside.”
“Denki,” Catherine murmured, and then stopped. Denki? How did she know the word?
She sought out Sutter’s troubled gaze. He was as surprised as she was by her use of the term.
“Denki is German. Are you Amish?” he asked incredulously, his gaze latching on to her face.
Catherine tried to remember, but couldn’t. “I have no idea,” she murmured, just as confused as he was.
“You weren’t dressed in Amish clothing. None of the other victims were Amish,” he said, almost to himself.
To this, she had no answer. The truth remained locked away in her head. What if it never returned? What if she was forced to live without her past for the rest of her life?
“I’ll call the sheriff and have him show your photo to the bishop. And when we arrive at the Warrens’ we can see if they recognize you,” Sutter said. “Perhaps you’re from the West Kootenai community.”
She didn’t feel Amish or Englisch. She felt...nothing.
A man who’d been introduced to her as Sutter’s partner came in. “We’re all set. Sheriff Collins has men stationed outside the hospital at all entrances. If he’s here and tries something, we’ll catch him.”
Sutter nodded and swung to Catherine. “If you’re ready, we should be on our way.”
She wasn’t. In truth, she was terrified. Though she didn’t feel safe in her hospital room, she felt somewhat in control. Going out in the open represented the great unknown. Danger and questions she couldn’t answer plagued her.
Beverly gave her a hug. “I’m going to miss you. I hope you regain your memories soon, Catherine. You deserve to know who you are.”
Catherine forced a smile. “Thank you,” she murmured. Part of her wanted to cling to the kindly nurse.
“I’ll keep in touch with Agent Brenneman and monitor how you’re doing. If you need me at all, he’ll know how to reach me,” Dr. Rolland assured her.
A lump formed in her throat. Tears were close. Even though they had no idea who she was, the staff had been so nice to her. They were the only people she knew, and leaving felt like letting go of a piece of herself.
Dr. Rolland squeezed her arm. He’d seen the tears. “Give it time, Catherine. I’m convinced your memories will return in full.”
She so wanted to believe him.
“To be safe, we’ll take the service stairs,” Sutter said, as he held the door open.
Drawing in a breath, Catherine slipped past him. With Sutter at her side and his partner watching from behind, they headed to the stairwell.
Sutter opened the door and stepped through, scanning the area, then signaled for Catherine and James to follow him.
Their feet clomped on the metal steps as they descended the first flight of stairs. Walking the short distance quickly diminished her energy. Sutter stopped and skimmed her face.
“Let’s take a break,” he said, and she was grateful. She’d tried to hide her heavy breathing, but he must have noticed.
“Do you want to sit for a moment?” he asked. She’d sensed kindness in him from the beginning. After spending time with Sutter, she believed he was the type of man who would never hurt a woman.
She felt a frown tighten her face as a fragmented memory toyed with her. Another man had hurt her, though. Someone other than the killer.
“Catherine?” Sutter asked. His eyebrows drew together.
“I am oke—okay,” she amended, when she didn’t remember how she knew the word. “We should keep going.”
He watched her a moment longer before agreeing.
“Why don’t you take the lead?” he asked James. “I’ll stay close to Catherine.”
Once they were on the move again, each step felt impossible to finish. Her body was healing from the torment her captor had inflicted on her, not to mention the bullet wound and blow to her head.
She’d been told two young Amish boys had rescued her from the frigid waters. She hadn’t had the chance to thank them for saving her life, but when this ended, she would seek them out and tell them how grateful she was.
Sutter took her arm and helped her along.
“This is it,” James said, when they’d reached the ground floor and passed through the kitchen, currently devoid of workers. Sutter wasn’t taking any chances.
James opened the door and stepped out into what appeared to be a loading zone for the cafeteria. Sutter waited beside Catherine while his partner made sure the alley was clear.
“All’s good,” James said, when he came back inside.
“Stay close to me.” Sutter placed his hand on the small of her back as they headed for the exit next to a roll-up door.
“Our people are stationed nearby. The alley is clear.” James stepped outside with them.
“We’ll talk soon. If anything breaks on the case, you know how to reach me,” Sutter told him.
“I do. Be careful. This guy is obviously unstable. If something looks off, call for backup.”
“I will.” With Catherine close, Sutter moved to the dark SUV parked nearby and opened the passenger door for her.
With her breath coming quickly, she slipped into the seat. He shut the door and circled the front of the vehicle to the driver’s door.
Once behind the wheel, Sutter glanced her way. “Are you ready?” he asked, obviously trying not to show his concern, though the tension working along his jaw assured her he was worried.
Somehow, she agreed. Her pulse echoed in her ears, drowning out all other sound.
Sutter started the SUV and eased out of the alley, keeping a careful watch behind them.
“So far, so good.” He flashed her a smile. At times, she found it jarring how handsome Sutter Brenneman truly was. The echo of an old emotion skittered through her head. Had she thought about another man as attractive before? The sense of being hurt in the past taunted her. Yet the reason behind the feeling wouldn’t pull free of its shackles.
“Tell me about the other victims?” she asked, because she couldn’t relax, and so far the women were just numbers. Six in all. She wanted to see the human side of each of them.
Sutter’s smile evaporated. “Catherine, it’s not your fault they’re dead. You have nothing to feel guilty about.”
She wished that were true. “But I do. I am alive and they are not. I need to know why. Please—tell me about them.”
He cleared his throat, his attention going to the road ahead. “Two were college students. One worked at the bank in town. Another was a receptionist for a doctor’s office. One was an elementary school teacher, and the last one had just moved back home. All were single. They were all young women with their entire lives ahead of them. None of them deserved what happened to them.” His eyes sliced her way. “Neither did you.”
“They all had family who missed them?” she asked.
He nodded.
“There’s been no one who reported me missing?” She didn’t have to look at him to know the answer in his silence.
“No, but we’re wondering if perhaps you’re not from the area.”
Still, someone should be worrying about where she was...unless she had no one in her life.
Catherine shoved the despairing thought down deep. She couldn’t let her faith waver. Gott would see her through this.
Shifting in her seat, she stud
ied Sutter’s profile. He’d saved her life and yet she knew so little about him.
“Have you always wanted to be an FBI agent?” she asked, unable to comprehend the horrible things he must have seen in his career.
Sutter’s hands tightened on the wheel. “No.” He hesitated for so long that her curiosity spiked. What was he hiding? “I kind of fell into the job, I guess. I knew I wanted to help those who couldn’t help themselves. The FBI does some good things, so I applied after college and was accepted.” He lifted his shoulders.
“You like what you’re doing?” She wasn’t sure why she needed to hear his answer.
Some emotion flashed in his eyes and was gone before she could understand it. “Sometimes. Others, not so much. It can be a hard job.” She sensed unhappiness about him, but chose not to ask any more questions.
Sutter pulled onto another street and Catherine glanced out the side window as several businesses slipped by. None were familiar. The town appeared to be a small but quaint mountain village where very little bad happened. The terror running through the minds of those who lived here must be inconceivable, with a killer stalking young women who fit a certain pattern only he fully understood.
Exhaustion set in and Catherine leaned against the seat and closed her eyes. Like always, the man’s hate-filled glare flashed before her, and she struggled to pull something more from her hidden memories. Had she seen his face before?
The motion of the SUV helped calm her frayed nerves. She was safe, she kept reminding herself. Sutter was beside her and they were going to a safe place.
A loud bang shattered the quiet. Her eyes flew open. “What was that?” She swung toward Sutter, who was staring into the rearview mirror.
“Gunshots. Coming from the side road we just passed. He was waiting for us there.” Before she had time to process what he said, another round of shots tinged off the side of the SUV. The vehicle swerved. Sutter increased its speed.
“Get down!” he shouted over the noise. Catherine released the seat belt and slid to the floorboard.
With her eyes glued on Sutter, she watched as he reached for his phone.
“Sheriff, I need immediate assistance. We’re under attack.” Sutter quickly explained and gave their location. “I can make out the license plate.” He recited the number and waited, while keeping a close watch behind them.
“I was afraid of that.” Sutter’s voice was tight with alarm. “We just passed Black Lake Road. Tell them to hurry. This guy isn’t letting up.” He ended the call and dropped the phone on the console.
“The vehicle was reported stolen.” He answered her unasked question. “Sheriff Collins is sending deputies to try and intercept the driver now.”
Sutter’s gaze narrowed as he watched the mirror. “He’s coming up fast. Hold on tight. I’m going to try something.”
Catherine braced as Sutter floored the powerful SUV and it hurtled down the road.
“We can’t lead him to the Warrens’ place. There’s another road up ahead. I’m going to see if I can lose him there.”
While she tried to take it all in, the man opened fire on them again and she ducked low.
Sutter barely slowed before making a hard left turn. The SUV swerved, fishtailing on the gravel surface.
Once the vehicle was under control, he pushed it hard, while keeping watch behind them.
“He’s still back there. Where are the deputies?” Sutter sounded worried. He called the sheriff again. “What’s the ETA on backup?” Sutter told him the name of the road they’d exited onto, while Catherine clung to the seat. She didn’t understand how the killer had found them so easily.
Sutter yanked the wheel, aiming the SUV down another side road, and pressed the gas pedal to the floor again. In the distance, sirens blared.
“I see the deputies’ lights now. I think we lost him. It should be safe for you to sit up.”
Catherine slipped back into her seat and stared at the side mirror. The other car was nowhere in sight, yet Sutter didn’t slow down. He kept up the speed and called again.
“Did they catch him?” he asked, and waited for an answer. “You’re kidding.” The surprise in his tone was all the answer Catherine needed. “Okay. Let me know what you find.”
After slowing his speed, Sutter exited onto another road. “He slipped by the deputies somehow, which leads me to believe he knows his way around the countryside. I can’t help but think this guy is a local.”
The man was someone who lived in the community, probably knew the women he killed personally. How had he managed to hide the killer inside for so long?
“I think it’s safe to head to the Warrens’ place now,” Sutter said, as they circled back to the main road.
Once there, he glanced in both directions. The road appeared deserted. After what felt like a lifetime, he eased onto it.
“What if he somehow follows us to the Warrens’? We could be putting this family in danger.” Doubts continued to plague Catherine. He’d managed to find her at the hospital. Why would this be any different?
“We’ve been using cell phones to communicate instead of the police radio in case he can somehow monitor police transmissions. I made sure he didn’t follow us. And as the sheriff mentioned, Noah Warren is a former deputy sheriff. I think he can handle himself, which is why Sheriff Collins chose him.”
But the man had a wife and child. And Catherine was a hunted woman.
Sutter clasped her hand as if sensing the unease consuming her. “Try to relax.”
Her gaze pivoted to their joined hands. Being touched was something she feared from him. But Sutter’s touch was gentle. Warm. She could feel strength radiating from him like a beacon.
Without saying a word, she sank against the seat and tried to stop worrying. Sutter released her hand and focused on his driving. The SUV became filled with a comfortable silence as miles disappeared behind them.
When this nightmare ended and she knew her identity, she would return to her old life once more. Catherine tried to picture what that would be like. What did she do for a living? She searched the blankness, but nothing came forth. Was she married? She wore no jewelry.
They reached the bridge where she’d almost died. She shuddered as she watched the water rage by below. It was springtime and the recent snowmelt had fed the creek to capacity.
Once they’d crossed the bridge, Sutter stopped the SUV and pointed to the railing. “According to the two boys, you fell from there.”
She recognized the spot all too well. She’d been so frightened, the road icy and cold under her bare feet as the bullet struck her, and she couldn’t keep her balance. If the boys hadn’t been there, she would have been swept away with the current and drowned. “I felt myself sinking and I couldn’t do anything about it because I never learned to swim.”
“I’m so sorry you had to go through that, Catherine,” Sutter murmured.
She shifted to face him. “None of it matters now. I got away. I’m alive.” She forced a smile. No matter what she’d gone through, she was blessed to be among the living.
“Yes, you are,” he said, and pressed her hand before putting the SUV back in gear. He headed down the gravel road.
With a final glance at the frigid water, Catherine vowed she would never forget what she’d overcome.
A wooden sign pointed the direction to several businesses. They were in Amish country now. She peered out the side window. Nothing about it was familiar.
“Have you been here before?” she asked, not sure why she wanted to know.
“No, but I’m familiar with the Amish way of life. You’ll like them.”
His answer made her curious. There was a wistful look in his eyes when he spoke. Did he know someone Amish?
Sutter slowed the SUV’s speed as they drove past the small group of Amish businesses. A bulk foods store appeared on the right
, a hardware shop on the left. A small diner and a handcrafted furniture store were next. The sight of them pulled her in. Under different circumstances, she would love to spend the day here.
As they passed a bakery, she noticed two women inside working, both dressed in Amish clothing. Their dresses were dark blue. Nothing about the color of the dresses was familiar. They wore white prayer coverings on their head. Wait, how did she know they were called prayer coverings?
For a brief moment, she’d hoped once she reached the community something about it would seem familiar. She’d used a German word, which according to Sutter was the language spoken by the Amish. But she’d been wrong. She was no closer to knowing who she was than when she’d awakened in the hospital with nothing but a blank slate for her past.
* * *
“This looks like the place,” Sutter said, and pulled onto a dirt drive lined with trees. Though this was different from the community where he’d grown up, the very thought of being among Amish people brought a wealth of memories to mind. Most good. A few not so much.
Life had been so much simpler then. His world smaller. Just his mamm and daed and his brother, Thomas. His grandparents had lived in the dawdi haus. He and Thomas would help his ailing grandfather with chores around the house each day after they’d completed the family work.
Farming the land, they’d grown hay, as well as whatever they could to feed the family. And Sutter had never been happier than when he was working in the fields. Thomas, who was four years younger, was his best friend. They’d been inseparable.
And then that fateful day shortly after Sutter’s seventeenth birthday had happened, when his brother disappeared. The family had frantically searched the community. They’d found Thomas’s body late at night. He’d wanted to go hunting, and had begged Sutter to come along. Sutter had told him he would meet him, but had blown his brother off.
Because he’d been self-centered, his brother had died, the victim of a hit-and-run accident. The driver had never reported it, and had never been caught. Justice for Thomas was not possible, and it was all Sutter’s fault. If he’d been there with him, he could have protected his brother.
