Evil in My Town

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Evil in My Town Page 13

by Karen Ann Hopkins


  “No one would ever marry if they thought as hard about it as you do.”

  “I don’t know what to do.” I thudded my head back against the headrest.

  “Do you want some good advice?”

  I nodded, not taking my eyes off the road.

  “If you do get hitched, realize it’s not going to be a stroll in the park—more like riding a bronco—and I’m sure there will be a lot of good mixed in with the bad. But if you walk away from the stoic Daniel Bachman, you give me a call. I promise I won’t be a pain in the ass about the job. I’d rather not procreate, either.”

  My cheeks burned. I dared a glance Toby’s way. He dipped his hat and offered me a lopsided smile.

  I thanked the universe when the gas station came into view. I pulled in and parked without responding to what Toby had said. I could toss it up as a joke, but something in the way he’d looked at me a couple of times told me he was dead serious. The idea of hooking up with the US Marshal wouldn’t have been so bad if I wasn’t already in love with someone else. A shard of me wanted to give Toby some hope. Daniel and I had argued, but we weren’t finished. At least, I couldn’t wrap my mind around it being over. Surely, Daniel would give me one more chance. But there was the possibility that if I didn’t marry him sooner rather than later, he would walk away. He knew exactly what he wanted, and I was a bumbling idiot when it came to my romantic life.

  I parked and changed the subject. “Do you have the file?”

  He opened the door and puffed out a short laugh. “Sure do.”

  “Good” was all I managed to mutter.

  The station was empty when we walked in. The guy behind the counter had stringy dark hair and a tattoo of a quiver and arrows on his neck. For the rough look, his eyes were sharp when I stepped up. His name tag read, Brian.

  Toby handed me the folder, and I pulled out the pictures of Erin Swarey and Charlene Noble. The only one we had of Erin was from an out-of-state driver’s license from nearly two decades earlier, but it would have to do.

  I placed the photos on the counter. “Have you seen either of these two ladies in here before?”

  The man bent over the counter and studied the pictures. He pointed to Charlene’s photo. “Definitely seen that one. It was a while back and only once, I think.” He picked up the pictured of Erin and brought it closer to his face. “Now this one looks like one of the Amish ladies who occasionally comes in.” He pointed at the photo. “Hard to tell, since I only seen her with her hair up in the cap, but they both have the same nose. She’s a lot older now.”

  My gut appraisal of the attendant was spot on. I surveyed the station and was relieved that we were still alone. “Did you ever see these two women together?”

  Brian scratched his head. “I’m not really sure, maybe. Danielle would have been the better person to talk to. She and the Amish woman were close.” He puckered his lips and a shadow passed over his already dark eyes.

  “Is she working today?” I asked. Adrenaline pumped through my veins. I already suspected what he was going to say next in answer to my question.

  “She’s dead. ODed a couple of months ago.” His tone was casual.

  I glanced at Toby. He’d removed his sunglasses when he’d entered the station and his bright blue eyes sparkled with shock.

  “Danielle Brown worked here?” I asked.

  He nodded. “She was saving up money so that she could skip town and get her own place. The girl was messed up. She’d been passed around foster homes since she was eight years old, and she confided in me that she’d been sexually abused in some of those homes. Poor girl just wanted to get out on her own, where no one could take advantage of her.”

  “Danielle and this woman”—I pointed to Erin’s photo—“were friends?”

  “The Amish woman was trying to help Danielle. I guess one day they started chatting, and before long Danielle was spilling her guts to the woman.”

  “How do you know she was attempting to help Danielle?” I pulled out my badge and showed it to Brian. His face didn’t change expression. He wasn’t surprised. He’d known I was the law when I’d stepped up to the counter. “This is important, Brian. What exactly did Danielle tell you about this Amish woman and how she was going to help her?”

  “I was going to tell you the truth without you having to flash your badge.” He rolled his eyes. “The Amish woman was planning to leave town, and she was going to take Danielle with her.”

  27

  Taylor

  The sound of the monitor’s steady beeping drew my eyes to the machine. The overhead light was dim and Lindsey’s eyes were closed. I’d spotted her parents and little brother in the cafeteria when we’d walked by, and I urged Sarah to lengthen her stride to get to the hospital room quicker. We passed the nurses’ station and no one had stopped us from entering the room. I was relieved to find Lindsey alone.

  “Maybe we shouldn’t disturb her?” Sarah said. Like me, she was staring at the machine and tubes hooked up to Lindsey’s arm.

  “I talked to her on the phone this morning. She’s expecting my visit.” I reached out and touched Lindsey’s arm. “Lindsey, I’m here,” I whispered, holding my breath.

  She stirred and then yawned. Her eyes flicked and opened. She brought her arm that didn’t have tubes attached up to her face. Once the sleep was rubbed away, she greeted me.

  “About time you showed up. Mom has been driving me crazy, pestering me constantly about how I feel, and calling the nurses in every time I wince.”

  “That’s what mothers do. My mom would be way worse.”

  She reached out and I took her hand. “I have something really important to tell you,” she said quietly.

  I jerked my head at Sarah. Lindsey followed my gaze and her mouth opened. “I thought we were alone.”

  She squirmed on the bed, pushing up into a sitting position. A large bandage covered the side of her head where the bullet had grazed her skull. Her hair on that side had been shaved off. Lindsey had retained her sense of humor after being shot and joked that she’d finally have a hip hairdo. I knew she was just being brave for everyone else’s sake. Losing half of her hair was bothering her, but at least she was alive.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t see you there.” Lindsey smiled at Sarah.

  “This is Sarah. She’s Daniel’s niece,” I told her.

  Sarah moved closer. “No worries. I’m sorry to intrude at all. I was with Taylor and she wanted to stop by to see you. I hope you don’t mind that I tagged along.”

  “Of course not.” Her face brightened. “Do you know Matthew Troyer?”

  The color drained from Sarah’s face and I winced.

  “Why, yes, I do.” She paused and bit her lip. “He’s a friend of mine.”

  “I’m so happy you came with Taylor.” Lindsey stared at the Amish girl. “Did he ever say anything about me to you?”

  I felt so sorry for Sarah. I never dreamed Lindsey would begin interrogating her.

  Sarah nodded slowly. “Why yes, he did mention that you were his friend.”

  “Oh, we’re more than friends,” Lindsey said.

  “Lindsey!” I chastised. “You shouldn’t talk about it.”

  Lindsey shot me a warning look. “No, I have to get this off my chest. Since Sarah is Matthew’s friend, it’s the perfect opportunity.” She returned her attention to Sarah. “After being shot at and nearly dying, and so many of my friends losing their lives, I’ve reconsidered my life and what I really want to do.”

  “What are you talking about?” Sarah asked, her tone limp.

  “I’m going to become a psychologist. I want to help people like Jackson and Danielle, so they don’t have to resort to drugs and violence when things get bad in their lives.” Lindsey paused and looked between me and Sarah. “I had told Matthew that I wanted to become Amish to be with him, but if I did that,
I wouldn’t be able to go to college, and that means I couldn’t have a career helping people.”

  I rested my hand on Lindsey’s shoulder and her smile grew. “You were right, Taylor. Even though you were polite and didn’t come right out and say it. Matthew isn’t the guy for me.” She looked back at Sarah. “Will you tell him for me, Sarah? Since you’re his friend, it might sound better coming from you. Who knows, maybe the two of you can get together someday,” Lindsey joked.

  A dozen emotions flicked across Sarah’s face. When her smile joined Lindsey’s, my heart finally calmed.

  “I’ll tell him, and don’t worry. Matthew is resilient. He’ll understand your choice. It’s a great thing you’re doing—taking the opportunity to change something so terrible into something positive.” A tear slipped down Sarah’s cheek and she quickly wiped it away.

  “No tears allowed in my hospital room. That’s an order,” Lindsey said lightly. When she turned my way, I cringed inside at her sudden somber expression.

  “I still have to talk to you.” She frowned, glancing back at Sarah. “I guess it won’t hurt for you to hear, since it involves your community and all.”

  I leaned closer to Lindsey. “What’s going on?”

  “I never told you, but I talked to Danielle sometimes. She said Jackson was forcing himself on her, and that he was the one who got her hooked on the drugs.”

  Sarah spoke up. “Did he always get the drugs from Monroe Swarey?”

  “Yes,” Lindsey replied. “I’m not sure how they knew each other, but Jackson and Monroe hung out.” She lowered her voice and Sarah and I both crowded in closer. “I think Jackson was mad at Danielle because she was talking about running away. It had something to do with Monroe’s mom, although I’m not sure what she had to do with it, except that Danielle mentioned her a couple of times.”

  “Was Erin Swarey going to help Danielle run away?” Sarah asked. Her face was pinched tight.

  “I think so. Then Monroe’s mom went missing and Danielle over dosed on drugs. Don’t you think that’s kind of weird timing?” Linsey said.

  My heart thumped and I caught my breath. “What exactly are you saying, Lindsey?”

  “That he killed her, too.”

  “Who killed who?” With sickening dread, I realized what she meant, but I had to hear it out loud.

  “Jackson killed Monroe’s mom,” Lindsey hissed the words out.

  Lindsey’s mom stepped into the room with a nurse at her side. “Sorry, girls. Lindsey has to have blood drawn. You can stop by again tomorrow, Taylor.”

  I backed away from Lindsey and grabbed Sarah’s hand, taking her with me. “I’ll see you later, Mrs. Meade.”

  When we were free of Lindsey’s room, we hurried down the hall and caught the elevator. I felt nauseous when I finally met Sarah’s startled gaze. “I have to tell my aunt everything Lindsey said.”

  Sarah shook her head. “We should tell Monroe. He’s a horrible kid, I know, but if Jackson killed his Ma, he might know something about it. Maybe that’s why he sold bad drugs to Danielle—to hurt Jackson.”

  The elevator doors popped open and I followed Sarah until we passed through the automatic doors, leaving the hospital.

  Finally alone again, I grabbed her arm. “Are you crazy? He might have killed me that night, and we know he’s a drug dealer. We shouldn’t go anywhere near him. We have to tell my Aunt Reni. She’ll know what to do.”

  Her face twisted as the cold air turned her cheeks red. “I’m sure this is difficult for you to understand—the only time you were around Monroe is that fateful night in the woods when he was acting so awful and Danielle died. But Matthew and I grew up with Monroe. He wasn’t always a terrible kid. His father used to beat him and his mother was miserable being Amish. He had it pretty hard, and that’s why he does the things he does.” She pressed her lips together. “If we can talk to him first, maybe we can convince him to turn himself in, and then the sheriff will go easier on him. Haven’t enough lives been ruined?” Sarah implored.

  A bitter breath filled my lungs as the wind picked up, spraying loose snow around the parking lot. Clouds moved swiftly to cover the sun, and I shivered. Monroe’s fiery eyes stared back at me. I never wanted to see him again, and I didn’t really care what happened to him, but the desperate look on Sarah’s face made me pause. Was it possible to save Monroe? Lindsey now wanted to become a psychologist to help mentally ill people, like Jackson, before they went nuts and shot up a school. Could we possibly make a difference in the young Amish man’s life?

  “I don’t think it’s a good idea…”

  “Please, Taylor—we’ll get Matthew to go with us. We won’t be alone. There will be three of us and only one of him. What could possibly happen?”

  A dozen chilling images of our mutilated corpses in a cornfield, and a dusty old barn rose up in my mind. “He has a gun, Sarah.”

  A puff of cold air spread from her mouth when she laughed. “He wouldn’t have hurt you. He was trying to be tough.” She grasped the sides of my arms. “If Monroe won’t agree to talk to the sheriff, then I promise you, we’ll tell her all of it.”

  My insides shouted, No, don’t do it! When I spoke I was surprised at what I said. “Okay, we’ll give him the chance to come clean, but I think you’re going to be disappointed. Monroe Swarey isn’t a good guy in disguise. I don’t think he’s much better than Jackson Merritt, or even David Lapp.”

  “Thank you, Taylor. I know I’m going to prove you wrong,” Sarah insisted.

  It began to snow just as we reached my car. I lifted my face into the wind and let the flakes melt on my face. I really hoped Sarah was right and I wasn’t about to make the biggest mistake of my life. What worried me the most was what Aunt Reni would do when she found out we went to Monroe Swarey’s farm to confront him ourselves. Because if there was one thing I knew about my aunt—she would definitely find out eventually.

  28

  Serenity

  I stared at the procession of passing buggies through the car window. The pounding hoof beats reverberated in my head, pinching the slight headache that was developing. The sun was still high in the sky, and I glanced at my watch. There just wasn’t enough time to drive out to the Swarey farm to talk to Nicolas and Monroe. I still had one more meeting to get through in town before I’d be free.

  “Is it just coincidence that the girl who ODed in a park has a foster brother who becomes a mass murderer, and they both had connections to the Amish community and Monroe Swarey?” I turned to Toby, who was flipping through the pages of the file he’d created for Charlene Noble.

  He glanced up. “Unlikely. But then again, I don’t believe in coincidences.” He held up a paper he’d jotted notes on. “The time frame Charlene’s sister said Charlene went missing jives perfectly with Erin Swarey’s disappearance. The girl, Danielle, ODed about a month after both women vanished. Less than two months later, Jackson goes on his shooting spree.” He dropped the papers on his lap and tilted his head toward me. “Monroe Swarey, Erin’s son, was the person who sold the drugs that killed Danielle. He threatened your niece, indicating he shares his father’s violent tendencies.” The corner of his mouth rose. “Do you really think that’s all random happenstance?”

  “No, but it’s hard for me to believe that Monroe was involved in his mother’s disappearance or even his father. We looked closely at both of them during the slain Amish girls’ investigation.” I hesitated. “I’m going to be sick if we missed something a few months ago.”

  “Do you want me to head out to the Swarey’s farm while you’re in town?”

  I shook my head. “Don’t take it personally, but you’ll really freak them out. At least they know me.”

  The knock on the glass made me nearly spill my coffee. I rolled the window down and Bishop Esch leaned in.

  “Sheriff, what brings you out to the community?” His bushy bro
ws curved. “I hope nothing is amiss?”

  The Amish leader was like a bloodhound when it came to police interest in any of his people. One thing I’d learned about the bishop was that he was a straight shooter.

  I removed my sunglasses and eyed Aaron Esch. “We’re following up on the drug overdose death of a teenage girl who worked here at the station.” The Amish man’s face remained passive and I took a gamble. “What would you say if I told you that it’s come to my attention that Monroe Swarey was involved in the drug transaction?”

  “Who gave you that information?” His voice was quiet.

  “Let’s just say it came from someone I trust.” I stared back at him.

  The bishop inhaled and blew out a rumbling breath. “I would say that the boy is touched by evil. If you have the evidence you need, you should put him behind bars.”

  I wasn’t used to the bishop advising me to arrest one of his people. “You must really hate that kid,” I said flatly.

  He attempted to smile, but with his sharp, arctic fox-like features and coloring, it wasn’t a gentle look. “I hate no one, even those that do me and my people harm. But I have lived enough years to be able to recognize and accept when someone’s salvation is beyond my abilities. I have tried to work with the Swarey boy, teach him the right way, but he is stubborn and wild. His actions are affecting the other youth in my community. He is a poison that needs to be extracted. I fear that you, Sheriff, are the only person that can cure the illness growing here.”

  “That’s getting right to the point,” Toby said.

  “I have lost patience. Nicolas can’t control his son and neither can I. It’s up to you, Sheriff, to take care of it.” The bishop was steady and calm, like a mighty river.

  The fact that he was encouraging me to arrest Monroe made me reluctant. The Amish always had their own agenda, and I suddenly had the prickling feeling that the bishop might know more than he was letting on. “What do you think happened to his mother?”

 

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