Chapter Nine
Carly was trying not to get blood or mud on Noah’s hardwood. He could tell by the way she hesitated at the door between the screened-in porch and the kitchen.
“I run a farm,” he reminded her. “You’re not tracking in anything these floors haven’t seen already.”
Carly shook her head, then looked around to see if she’d shucked off anything at the movement.
“You saved my life today, with a shovel. The least I can do is be respectful of your flooring.”
“There’s a statement I never thought I’d hear. Or, I never thought to think about not hearing.” Noah laughed and waved her in. “I got lucky is all. Now come in and don’t worry about it.”
She looked around herself one more time before admitting defeat, following him through the kitchen, great room and right into his bedroom.
“I don’t usually have much company, so the guest bathroom is a bit bare at the moment.” He opened the door to the en suite, his personal bathroom, glad that he cleaned it on a weekly basis. “There are towels in the closet just inside and you can snag any soap in there you like. If you want to give me your jacket while you clean up, I can work on making it look a little less like a Jackson Pollock painting.”
Carly’s eyebrow rose at that. He snorted.
“Surprised that a farmer like me knows art?”
“I’m not big on judging a book by its cover. That was just an unexpected comparison—” she looked down at said jacket “—but an apt one.”
She winced as she took it off and handed it over.
Noah couldn’t help but note the details after it was gone.
The ripped sleeve where she’d been cut by David Lapp’s friend, or foe, had dried blood around it. The bandage beneath an eye-catching contrast to the crimson. The red and slight bruising along the side of her face. The dried cut above her lip.
The holstered gun she wasn’t making any moves to distance herself from.
Why would she?
She’d already been attacked and come close to dying on Day Two in Potter’s Creek. If Noah was her, he might even sleep with the gun beneath his pillow that night.
Just one of those details was enough to put fire into Noah’s veins.
The same fire that had flamed to life the moment he’d seen the man aiming a gun at Carly.
The same fire that threatened to burn through his resolve to stay quiet while the TCD team and local authorities worked the scene.
The same fire that had seared into him the absolute need to do anything and everything to help the agents.
To help Carly.
Even though it was clear the woman could handle herself.
“I’ll be in the kitchen,” Noah said, trying to remain impassive. “Yell if you need me.”
“Will do.”
Carly disappeared into his bathroom and Noah retreated to the kitchen, all the while replaying what had happened in the woods over and over in his head.
Violence wasn’t a new concept to him, but seeing it so close to the community he’d grown up in? It was different than the attack on the farms. That had been deadly, but silent.
The man in the woods had been a loud, physical assault. Not something to overlook until it was too late.
What in the world was going on in Potter’s Creek?
It was a question that added to the loop of thoughts running through his head as he tried to clean up the agent’s jacket. By the time Carly emerged from the bathroom, it was his turn to admit defeat. He’d gotten the mud off, but it had seen better days, that was for sure.
The same could have been said for Carly, objectively speaking. Noah hadn’t known her before yesterday, but he bet it was safe to say she didn’t always have cuts and bruises on her. Yet, even with her hair slicked back, her face void of makeup, highlighting the marks along her face, there was a natural beauty to her.
A beautiful simplicity.
A glow.
She smoothed down her blouse and seemed, for a moment, uncomfortable.
But then she smiled.
It was small and unexpected.
“I guess I should have listened to Selena and packed a second jacket, just in case.” She looked at her long, dark jacket spread out on the countertop. “Even from here it looks a bit rough.”
“It just needs some time to dry, I think, but I did go ahead and grab this out of the spare room if you want to borrow it.” Noah held out a coat. It was long and chestnut brown. “Beckett only ever wore it twice, so it’s basically brand new.”
Carly took it with another eyebrow raise. Noah could smell his bodywash wafting off of her. It felt oddly intimate.
“Beckett? I didn’t realize you were married.”
Noah tried not to laugh at that.
“Beckett is Gina’s little sister. Their family owned this farm before I did. On the rare occasion Beckett comes to visit Gina, she stays in the guest bedroom since it used to be hers.”
She slid the coat on. It was a good fit.
“Wow. That’s pretty generous of you,” she said. “I once met the man who rented my apartment before I did and promptly changed the locks.”
Noah chuckled.
“I didn’t just get the farm from the Tuckett family. I started living here when I was sixteen.”
That clearly surprised Carly.
She wasn’t the only one.
Gina’s parents agreeing to let him stay on the farm to work for room and board when he was sixteen had caused several waves of gossip. The fact that he’d remained had caused even more.
When he’d taken ownership of the farm?
He’d felt like a gameshow contestant with the locals asking him all the same questions: Why not Gina or her sister, Beckett?
Noah never answered, partly because it wasn’t their business.
And partly because he wasn’t sure himself.
“So Gina is like family then,” Carly guessed, surprising him that she hadn’t gone for any of the normal questions. Her expression was thoughtful.
Curious, yet respectful.
It was a nice change of pace from what he was used to hearing around Potter’s Creek when it came to his past.
“I wouldn’t say family—Gina would be the first to tell you she’s not big into people—but she is a friend.”
“And an employee, too?”
He nodded.
“After I took over the farm she only asked two things of me—to give her a job maintaining this place until she was ready to retire and let Beckett stay in the main house when she visited so they didn’t kill each other.” Noah shrugged. “Both requirements benefit me seeing as Gina is a loyal, hard worker and when those two are stuck together in the same place for too long the yelling starts.” He grimaced at the memory. “And boy, those two can get loud.”
Carly snorted.
“Being cooped up can do that to some people.”
She pulled her phone from her pocket and frowned at its screen. Noah took the time to grab his thermos from the counter, glad for the umpteenth time that it worked its magic by keeping his coffee warm.
Carly let out a sigh, as he appreciated the warmth after taking a long pull.
“Opaline, our tech guru, is having a hard time finding anything on David Lapp.” Her fingers flew across her phone’s keyboard, brow creasing. “I was hoping he would have some social media accounts we could use to find him...”
Noah watched as she mouthed what she must have been typing, her frustration clear in how her shoulders tensed.
Was this how her every day looked? How her cases played out?
Their Tactical Crime Division name certainly didn’t sound like they were dispatched to normal, run-of-the-mill issues.
“All right, I’m ready,” Carly said with a nod to herself. She slipped her phone in Be
ckett’s coat pocket and looked to him with a polite, yet small, smile.
That smile went away in a flash as her eyes went to his thermos.
Noah didn’t understand the change.
“Do you want me to make you some?” He motioned to the coffee maker.
Carly shook her head, but her gaze stuck to his drink.
Then she brought out another small smile.
But something had changed.
“Washing my face woke me up.” Her tone was flat. Noah didn’t have a chance to question it. She was out of the house in a flash.
Noah realized it was about time he added Carly Welsh to his list of mysteries currently playing out in Potter’s Creek.
* * *
DAVID LAPP’S FATHER said his son wasn’t home with such deep disapproval that Carly believed him on the spot. There was no way he would be hiding David on his property. That much was clear, even to an outsider like her.
And that was before she had even broached the reason why they were really there to talk to him.
“The house that David is currently renting has a chair in the basement. A chair that’s bolted to the ground and has restraints attached to it. We believe it was used to hold someone against their will.”
As Carly spoke, the patriarch’s face registered two things at once.
Surprise. Disgust.
She knew before she asked that this was all news to him.
Still, Carly had to do her job.
“Do you know why that chair is down there?”
Abram Lapp shook his head so firmly that his beard trembled at the movement.
“No,” he said quickly. “I have never even been to that house.”
It was the first time since they’d stepped onto the Lapp home’s front porch that the man had addressed her directly and not Noah.
Shock usually did that to people. They forgot to guard themselves.
“There was also a man who fled from the house,” she continued, pulling up the picture of her attacker on her phone. “Do you recognize him?”
Abram pushed his glasses up his nose and leaned forward slightly. He was hesitant to look at the picture but, based on what she’d just told him, there was no doubt a curiosity there, despite him not trusting her.
“I do not,” he said after squinting at the image. “Who is he?”
Carly returned the phone to her pocket.
“That’s what we’re trying to figure out.”
Abram seemed to remember whom he was talking to and reverted his attention to Noah.
“Do you think David had something to do with this chair and man?”
Noah let out a sigh.
“I don’t know a thing about him, other than both the chair and the man were in his house and that you’re his father.” Noah paused. “And that he’d been kicked out of the community. That’s why we’re here. We’re asking you if you think David had something to do with it.”
Abram Lapp took a great offense to that, though Carly couldn’t tell which part had creased his brow and made his nostrils flare.
Noah’s body language changed in tandem.
He’d noticed the anger before it spewed out of Abram’s mouth.
“If you had asked me a year ago about David, I would have been happy to tell you that he was abiding by our teachings and well on his way to being baptized.”
“But now?” Carly interjected.
It earned her a stiff look.
“Now he’s living a life separate from ours. I could no more tell you if he was in the city on the streets than I could tell you if he was walking on the moon. Since he left the community, he left us.”
“But he didn’t just leave. The church decided to kick him out,” Noah said. His voice had stiffened considerably. “That’s not something that happens lightly around here, especially for people who want to be baptized.”
Abram opened his mouth to say something but then caught himself. Carly used the opening to apply more pressure.
“If David wasn’t the one keeping someone in that chair then it’s very possible he himself was being kept against his will in that chair. You can be mad and frustrated all you want at your son, but I have to believe, whether on the city streets or the moon, you’d still care if something bad happened to him.” Abram met her gaze but made no show of wanting to respond.
So Noah brought it home.
“Abram, the TCD team is here because someone brought violence and death to the community and values you have sworn to uphold and protect.” He reached out and put a large hand on Carly’s shoulder. Warmth radiated from his touch.
He was humanizing her to Abram with physical contact.
And it felt nice. She didn’t pull away.
“Agent Welsh is only here to see that whoever is doing this is caught and held accountable, so Potter’s Creek can go back to normal. So that the rest of your family doesn’t have to be afraid to tend their own crops and walk their own fields. So, please, answer her questions or I’ll have to go talk to Dad—” he lowered his voice “—and none of us want that.”
Noah squeezed Carly’s shoulder. If she hadn’t been so hyperaware of it already, it might have thrown her off her game.
“We need to know why David was asked to leave here,” she said, getting to the bottom line.
Abram took a second.
Then caved. He ran his thumbs beneath his suspenders.
“He violated the Ordnung,” he started, dropping his voice lower. “He lied to us, stole from us and was caught sneaking out several times.”
Carly raised her eyebrow at that.
“Why?”
Abram shook his head.
“Abram,” Noah prodded. “What did I just—”
“He wouldn’t tell us,” he interrupted. “Even when being exiled was threatened, he refused to explain himself.”
The man took a step back, closer to the front door. A woman could be seen through the window but she made no show to come outside.
“That is all I have to say.” Abram looked to Noah. “To any of you.”
He retreated into the house, leaving Noah and Carly to themselves, and nowhere closer to answering any of their questions.
It made Carly’s resolve not to show her frustration crack when they were back in the truck.
“We tell him his son could be in danger or be part of the danger, and he gives us almost nothing to work with?” She felt a growl in her chest but was still trying to seem professional. It didn’t work. She turned to face the man who had gone stoic next to her. “Is that how your father talks to you?”
She hadn’t meant the last question to come out, but there it was.
This case had to be hitting on some kind of nerve for Noah, right?
He turned the engine over.
“You’re assuming we talk. Until this, we didn’t.”
Carly had no reason to feel defensive of the man next to her, but she did.
“The Amish are all about making your own choices, right? That’s why you aren’t baptized until you’re an adult. So if you choose not to, aren’t they supposed to respect that?” she asked. “Is it really that bad to be an outsider?”
They might have been good at playing off one another to get Abram to open up the little he had, but now Carly felt the off-limits part of Noah Miller activating.
“You’d have to ask them that. Not me.” Invisible walls sprung into place between them. His words had a finality to them. An I’m not going to talk about it in fine print.
Carly pressed on, unable to stop the line of questions queuing in her mind.
“Is that why you left? Did you already have problems with your dad and the others and wanted to get away from them?”
Noah put the truck in Reverse. He was as tense as she’d seen him since they met. This wasn’t his usual
quiet or brooding nature. No charming little smile graced his lips.
He had shut down right before her eyes.
“Why I left has nothing to do with the case now, so there’s no reason to talk about it.”
And so he didn’t.
Not a word.
Not a peep.
Chapter Ten
When Carly stepped into the inn kitchen late that night to grab a quick meal, she was surprised to discover Rihanna had beat her to it.
“I’m not used to seeing you up this late,” Carly said with a smile. Rihanna was still in her business pantsuit, though she’d replaced her heels with worn plaid slippers.
“And I’m not used to being one of the last ones up,” she returned with her own smile. It was tired and led right into the heart of the matter. “What I am used to is feeling like I’m being pulled every which way on a case—that’s the entire job of being a liaison after all, trying to bridge together two sides—but this case...” Her brow scrunched as she looked down at her empty plate. She was trying to find the right words. After a moment, she sighed and shook her head. “It just feels like there’s a lot going on and I can’t track half of it, which makes bridge building a very literal shot in the dark. And I don’t like that at all.”
Carly knew the feeling. She said as much, but then tried to be comforting. Or, at least, somewhat so.
“The great thing about the TCD is it isn’t a one-man show. It’s essentially a think tank with combat training, years of individual experience and one adorable dog. At the end of the day, it’s not just us out there looking for answers. It’s a team of people who want to see the bad guys caught and get justice.” Carly patted her friend on the shoulder and then moved to the freezer to get her food. “That’s all to say that this case might feel like a bunch of puzzle pieces, moving all over the place but we’re moving pieces, too. We’ll put it together. Soon.” Carly smiled again and tried to lighten the mood with a shrug. “Or we won’t. But then we’ll just fail together, too, and isn’t there some comfort to be had in that?”
That did it.
Rihanna raised her fist in the air with a mock cry of, “Go team!” The tension within her seemed to lessen all at once. Then she just looked tired. She waited until Carly was done preparing her noodles and walked her to the stairs, bringing a yawn along with her.
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