Amish Christmas Abduction (Amish Country Justice Book 3)

by Dana R. Lynn

  Before they could load him on a stretcher and transfer him to the ambulance, a buggy rolled into the driveway.

  It was getting really crowded now.

  Irene and Mary had moved into the kitchen. That way, Paul had a clear view of them as he assisted the local department. He switched his attention from Irene to the woman hopping down from the buggy and running into the house.

  “Whoa!” The male officer, Dudak, stepped in front of her, halting her entrance. “This is a crime scene.”

  “This is my house!” She shoved past him, then stumbled to a stop as she saw the man on the floor. “Dat! What are you doing to him?”

  Paul moved forward. “I’m sorry, miss. I came here to talk to your father and found him. He’d been shot.” He held up his hands in a placating gesture when her face paled and she looked like she might faint. “He’s alive! Do we have your permission to transport him to the hospital? He will die if we don’t.”

  Boy, he hated to be so harsh.

  As he was talking, she went down on her knees next to her father and began to sob. A hand landed on Paul’s arm. Irene. She squeezed his biceps. He could feel the warmth of her hand through his shirt. “I’ll help,” she whispered plopping Mary on the floor with a couple of toys she pulled out of the bag on her shoulder.

  As he watched, she went down beside the young woman, putting her arm around her shoulders. She whispered to her. The woman struggled to control herself and listened. Finally, she wiped her tears and nodded.

  Irene cast a look back and winked. Paul smiled. Was there another woman who could even compare to her? He doubted it. She amazed him with her strength and her compassion.

  “It’s okay,” she called, obviously unaware of the completely inappropriate thoughts flying around in his head. “She’ll let you take him to the hospital.”

  The ambulance crew didn’t waste any time. Within minutes, Carl was loaded into the ambulance and headed to the nearest hospital.

  His daughter prepared to follow. As she stood in the doorway, she paused. “I’m sorry. What did you want to talk to my dat about?”

  Paul hated to add to her concern. Especially since Carl may have been shot because he had knowledge about Mary. Somehow, someone had clued in to the fact that he and Irene were coming to talk with the man. He was sure of it. Paul didn’t have a shred of evidence, but his instincts told him he was dead on target.

  “This child.” Irene beat him to it. “She was kidnapped and we’re trying to find her family. We think her name is Mary. The people in town thought that she may belong to a family in Ohio. A family that thought she’d died in a fire last week.”

  “Ja. I know that story. They lost their youngest daughter, Mary Ann Lapp.”

  Mary stopped playing on the floor and stood. She walked over to the woman and smiled. Paul caught his breath. He exchanged excited glances with Irene. They were finally getting somewhere.

  Paul squatted down beside the toddler. She backed up a little, still a little shy around him and men in general, no doubt. “Mary Ann?”

  Her sweet face split into a wide grin, blossoming like a flower in the sunshine. His heart melted. Then she brought her shoulders up and giggled, and he was enchanted.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Mary Ann.”

  She giggled again.

  He heard a sigh. Irene. When he looked up, there were tears in her eyes. Alarmed, he stood and took her hand. “Irene? You okay?”

  “Right as rain.” She laughed and wiped her eyes with her free hand. It was amazing how ebullient he felt just because she hadn’t pulled away from him. “Silly of me, I know. But it seems like we might actually find her parents.”

  Without thinking about it, he leaned forward and touched his lips to her forehead. That was really stupid. But it had felt right.

  She blinked up at him.

  He didn’t give her time to decide if he’d gone too far.

  “I believe we will find them, Irene. God has a plan for Mary Ann. Just like He has one for you and me.” Huh. He probably should have phrased that differently. That sounded like God had a plan for them as a couple. He liked the sound of that more than he should.

  Miss Zook was already nodding vigorously.

  “Ja. Gott has a plan. You have to trust Him.”

  Irene shook her head, her expression bemused. “I’m trying. In the meantime, do you know where we might find Mary Ann’s family?”

  “Well, now, I don’t know the family myself. Somewhere in Holmes County, I know that much.”

  Paul could see the discouragement starting to take root inside Irene as Miss Zook hurried out the door, anxious to go with her father. Officer Dudak escorted her to the ambulance.

  Mary Ann was occupied for the moment, fascinated by the dust motes dancing in the stream of light coming through the window. Every so often, she’d try to catch the particles, then laughed when she couldn’t. What a wonder the world was to a child. He almost envied that simplicity.

  He looked up, and was startled to see Irene fighting tears.

  “Irene?” She’d been so happy just a second before.

  She wiped her eyes. “Sorry. I’m glad that we’re getting somewhere, but my heart aches at what her parents are going through.”

  He took advantage of the child’s distraction to comfort the woman.

  Gently, he pulled Irene into his arms, ignoring the startled glance he got from Officer Dudak, returning from outside. What did he care for that man’s disapproval when someone—a very special someone—was hurting inside?

  Irene held herself stiff for a moment, arms crossed in front of her like a shield. He wasn’t giving up. He held her close with one arm across her back. The other hand rubbed slow circles up near her neck. He was rewarded when she relaxed, leaning her head against his shoulder.

  For a moment, he forgot his intentions as the sweet, airy aroma of her shampoo assaulted his senses. He had started to lower his head, to breathe in her scent, when realization rushed upon him with a chill. What was he doing? He had no right to feel this way about a woman of her caliber.

  But he did.

  * * *

  What was she doing?

  Irene felt a change in the way Paul held her. Tension emanated from him. Embarrassed heat flooded her face at the idea that he might think she had read too much into his actions.

  She wasn’t the vulnerable girl he’d known so many years ago. She was made of stronger stuff and could handle whatever was thrown at her, thank you very much. Hadn’t she already proved that?

  She pulled out of his arms abruptly. He let her go, his arms dropping to his side. Did he look hurt?

  “I’m good,” she announced.

  His dark gaze roamed her face, questioning. She shivered.

  “Irene.” Paul’s voice was low, keeping his words private between the two of them. “I promise I won’t give up. We will keep searching for her family. It might take some time, but we will find them.”

  She swallowed, transfixed by the intensity of his voice. She believed him. In that moment, it was so clear. No matter what had happened so many years ago, she trusted him now. It would be so easy to fall for him, deeper than when they were teenagers. He had become a man who kept his word and who served those around him tirelessly.

  He was also a cop.

  That was the thing, the one thing, she couldn’t overlook. No matter how her stomach fluttered in his presence or how safe he made her feel, she couldn’t—wouldn’t—put herself or her children through that torment again.

  Ignoring the sorrow bubbling up inside, she took a step back. She needed to put space between them.

  “Irene...” Paul shook his head and sighed. She had the feeling he knew exactly what she was doing. “I need to touch base with these guys.” He jerked his thumb in the direction of the
Corry officers.

  She raised her eyebrows.

  “They can keep us in the loop on what they find. And I need to be in on the interview with Carl if and when he wakes up. He might be able to give us some details, both on Mary Ann’s family and on the man who shot him.”

  Irene frowned. “Do you think it was the man who was staring at us at church?”

  Paul considered. “Yeah, I do. He was in the picture with Carter, and, like I said before, I think he phoned Carter to tell him we were coming. I also believe he was the man who attacked Sergeant Zee.”

  Irene clenched her jaw in frustration. When would this awful ordeal end? And how many more good people would be hurt before then. She nodded toward the others. “Go ahead.”

  He touched her hand, then sauntered over to talk with the other officers.

  She wanted to scream, she was so frustrated. Why, God? Haven’t I been through enough? Unbidden, verses came to her mind.

  Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction so that we will be able to comfort those who are in any affliction with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God. For just as the sufferings of Christ are ours in abundance, so also our comfort is abundant through Christ. 2 Corinthians 1:3-5.

  Wow. She couldn’t believe she remembered that—she had learned it so long ago. But the question was did she believe it? Where was God when she had been trying to put her life back together? Where was He when her babies asked for their daddy? Or when she lay alone in her bed at night weeping for her husband? God hadn’t comforted her then.

  Because you would not let Him.

  The stark truth of that thought hit her hard. She had hardened her heart to God. Whether deliberately or not, she had turned away, refusing to accept His comfort. His strength. Oh, she still would have suffered even if she’d kept her heart open. There was no escaping that. But she recalled vividly the comfort her family had taken in the knowledge that they would see Ellie again after her sister’s death. How they had stood together.

  She had rejected it all when Tony died. Suddenly, she was ashamed of herself. What kind of example was that for her little ones?

  God, I am so sorry for shutting You out. I know danger is stalking me now. Help me to rely on You, no matter what happens.

  Peace flowed into her, like a balm on her raw spirit.

  A hand tugged at her pant leg...followed by a whimper. Mary Ann.

  She squatted down to put her eyes on a level with the little girl. Mary Ann whined again, then patted her mouth. She was so cute in her little white bonnet.

  “You’re probably getting hungry, aren’t you, sweetie?”

  The cooler was in the car. Maybe she should go get Paul before running outside for it? He was deep in serious discussion with the officers, though.

  Mary Ann whimpered again. What should she do? She’d overheard the other two officers talking a bit ago. They had said they didn’t think the perp had hung around. Did that mean the danger had passed? After all, they had checked all the buildings, and had seen no sign of the shooter. Not to mention how long she and Paul had sat in the car without being attacked. Why would the shooter stick around with so many cops roaming through the house and property? She looked down again into Mary Ann’s pleading eyes.

  She needed to get her food.

  “Okay, Mary Ann? I need you to stay here, okay? I’m going to get you some food.”

  Mary Ann babbled something. Whether it was just baby babble or Pennsylvania Dutch, Irene had no clue. But she needed to know that the Amish child understood her.

  “Can you sit down? Right here?”

  Mary Ann plopped down on her bottom, wobbling a bit as she did so.

  Relief coursed through Irene. The child understood. “Okay, honey. You stay here. I will be back quickly with something to eat.”

  She stood and walked to the front door. Paul and the officers had moved to the kitchen. She could hear them talking. The words “forced entrance” and “probably didn’t know the perp” floated to where she stood. Poor Carl. To be taken unaware in the supposed security of his own home.

  She slipped through the door. If she was quick, Paul would never know she’d gone to the car. She raced across the lawn to his cruiser. Opening the passenger door, she reached in and grabbed the lightweight cooler.

  She had just straightened when the first shot came. It slammed into the door she’d been holding on to.

  Irene screamed. Dropping the cooler, she darted behind the vehicle, chased by the sound of shot number two. She ducked down low and did a funny squatting walk along the rear of the cruiser, keeping her head below the trunk line. Her hands skimmed the cold bumper to help her keep her balance. Shot number three. The right rear tire took the slug, hissing as the air whooshed out.

  “Irene!”

  Paul.

  He and Dudak raced out. Nickols was probably keeping Mary Ann inside, safe.

  “Irene! Where are you?”

  Paul called again. She could hear the fear rumbling in his deep voice. He couldn’t see her, she realized.

  “I’m behind your car!” she yelled back, still keeping low. “I’m fine.”

  Besides being scared out of her wits, that was.

  The Lord is with you, she reminded herself. Lord, please protect us all. Keep Paul safe.

  For even now, he was racing toward the back of the car, his eyes searching the horizon, service weapon ready. He dashed around the car to the back end. He slipped the arm not holding the gun around her and squeezed.

  “You okay?” he queried urgently, gaze skimming over her. His face, she noted, was pale.

  Ouch. She hated that she was the one to cause him such fear.

  “I’m fine. Terrified, but unhurt.”

  She waited for the lecture. She even wanted it, because she knew it would be well deserved. What she got, however, was another squeeze and a kiss on the forehead.

  They waited for another shot.

  None came. She could hear Mary Ann screaming inside the house. Instinctively, she tried to stand, to go and comfort the child, but Paul wouldn’t let her move. Reluctantly, she agreed. Mary Ann was hungry and scared, but she was safe. They were not. Not yet.

  After ten minutes with no more shots, Paul called the other officer over. They kept Irene sandwiched between them and, gripping her elbows, fast-walked her back to the house. Their service weapons were out, and they were focused on the trees.

  The moment Irene was inside, Mary Ann rushed at her. Irene realized with a pang of regret that the cooler was still outside, on the snowy ground where she’d dropped it. She wasn’t about to go after it.

  Paul and Dudak turned to the door.

  “Wait, Paul! Where are you going?”

  He was so busy scanning the trees he didn’t even look her way. “We need to search the tree line.”

  Before she could protest, he was gone. Chasing after a killer.

  NINE

  Paul motioned Dudak to split off to the left. If this criminal had any brains he’d be long gone by now. Really, he should have left as soon as Paul’s cruiser pulled up to the house. Instead, he’d stuck around long enough to go after Irene again. It wasn’t smart or logical. In fact, it spoke of someone more concerned with a personal vendetta than keeping under the radar.

  Paul zigzagged through the trees, his eyes constantly scanning the brush and the treetops for any sign of movement. Any noise that might lead them to the killer’s hiding spot.

  Paul already had a pretty good guess what the man looked like. He thought back to the picture in Niko Carter’s wallet. That dark-haired guy and the bearded man were after Irene. He had a feeling this was no longer just about Mary Ann.

  The search was fruitle
ss.

  No sightings. No clues. Nothing that led them nearer to closing the case and stopping the people who had Irene in their sights.

  After about an hour, they had to admit defeat. The shooter had managed to elude them. Again. Paul was starting to get pretty irritated at showing up too late. As he walked back to where Irene was waiting, he kept going over the day’s events in his mind.

  How had the shooter known that they were going out to talk with Carl Zook? It seemed like too much of a coincidence that he was shot the same day that they would come asking questions—just minutes before their arrival. Somehow, the sniper had made the connection that they would come after him.

  Again, the question reverberated in his mind. How?

  He had found a way to spy on them and knew that they would be coming out to talk with people about the case today. Had the cruiser been bugged? He’d better search his vehicle, just in case.

  Ten minutes later, he frowned in frustration at his car. Nothing. Suddenly, the image of the young man slamming into him outside the diner crossed his mind. It no longer seemed like a coincidence. If he’d gone back inside, it was possible that the locals were still talking of Zook. Yeah. That would fit. He’d left after them, but if the man knew the area well, he might have been able to take a quicker route.

  From the yard, he could hear Mary Ann hollering. He spotted the cooler lying upside down on the ground and mentally connected the dots. The kid must be hungry. That was probably why Irene had come outside in the first place. He paused and listened. Yep. She didn’t sound hurt or scared. Just mad. Nothing gets a kid mad like an empty belly. He’d watched his sister’s kid enough to have learned that the first rule of peace in the house was to keep children well fed. He detoured slightly and picked up the forgotten cooler before resuming his trek to the house.

  Immediately, his thoughts returned to analyzing what he knew about the case. It was what he did best...fitting the pieces together. He was so consumed with the clues rattling around in his mind as he walked into Carl’s house that he was unprepared when Irene bounded out of the kitchen and threw herself into his arms.