by Katy Lee
“I will.”
He watched the bishop head down the hall and take the elevator down. After a few minutes, Jack took his chair and leaned back. At one end of the hall were the elevators, and he watched the numbers above the doors change, up and down. A few times the doors opened and hospital personnel came and went. Jack observed each one carefully. He doubted that the guy who’d come into Grace’s room was going to attempt another visit. Still, he stayed on guard for the unexpected. As soon as he relaxed, the guy could strike.
The doors opened and two orderlies walked out with a wheelchair, chatting about a disgruntled boss. It sounded as though one of them was about to get fired. Jack studied his face.
A pimply twenty-year-old.
Blond hair.
Blue eyes.
Nearly six feet.
Not an ounce of muscle on him.
Loose scrubs that could hide a weapon.
The two men passed by, and the pimply faced kid nodded and said, “Good morning.”
Jack noticed his high-top sneakers were untied. His gaze moved to the second orderly’s shoes. His were covered with surgical booties, so Jack couldn’t tell what kind he wore. He looked at his face and took note.
Long black hair pulled back in a ponytail. A paper mask covered his mouth. Jack estimated him to be between thirty and fifty. Being unable to see the orderly’s face fully before he passed by made it impossible to say for sure.
At the end of the hall, they turned the corner and continued their complaining, until Jack couldn’t hear them any longer.
The elevator doors opened again, and a nurse exited pushing a gurney. It was the one who’d passed Jack earlier, when he was with the bishop. Was she scoping the room?
The early morning staff must be starting to arrive as the sun rose. And Jack had yet to close his eyes. He took a deep breath and suppressed his exhaustion, for Grace’s sake.
The nurse passed by again, but didn’t greet him, her focus on her destination. She turned the corner and disappeared.
The intercom system beeped from the speaker above. “Paging all available doctors to the ER, stat,” a concerned female voice said through the hallways. This early in the morning, the small hospital was no doubt working with a skeleton crew, and by the sound of the page, some sort of catastrophe was occurring downstairs.
Jack jumped to his feet, and his hand went to his gun. Something was off. He wondered if this was related to the search for Grace’s attempted killer.
He walked to the end of the hall, itching to head down to the ER to find out. A set of doors opened just then and one of the orderlies appeared, returning with a gurney this time.
“What’s going on in the ER?” Jack asked.
“Beats me,” the guy said. It was the one with the ponytail, surgical mask and booties. “Probably some outraged family member not happy with the service.” The guy laughed a bit to show he was joking.
Jack didn’t return the laugh. “It sounds pretty serious.” Like maybe the killer had hurt someone else.
Jack looked back at Grace’s door. He really couldn’t leave her. If anything happened to her, he would never forgive himself. He’d promised her he wouldn’t leave her side.
The orderly turned the corner to head to the elevators, but as he did so the gurney tipped onto its side and clattered to the floor.
“Oh, man. That’s never happened before,” he said, bending to pick it up. “Thankfully, no one was on it. Could you imagine?”
Jack was glad to hear the guy had some sense. He went around to the bottom to help the orderly lift it. “Better be careful from now on. I’m sure that boss of yours wouldn’t be too happy with you. You could be next to be fired.”
The guy nodded and came to the end to take it from Jack. “I’d be canned, for sure. Thanks for the help.”
In the next second, Jack felt a sharp pain in his thigh that had him gasping in confusion. A glance down showed a syringe sticking out of his leg. He looked back at the guy beside him. The surgical mask had slipped down a bit, exposing more of his face. Jack remembered seeing him somewhere, but before he could place him, his vision blurred and Jack fell forward on the gurney, the world going black.
* * *
First thing in the morning, Grace sat on the edge of her hospital bed while Dr. Reese fitted her with a brace. “I know it’s tight and restrictive, but your neck is too strained to hold up your head just yet.”
“How long do I have to wear it?”
He shrugged. “As long as it takes. You’ll know when it can come off when the pain subsides.” He stepped back and assessed her vitals next. With a smile, he said, “I’m releasing you. I know it’s soon, but I think your community is going to need your assistance.”
“Why’s that?”
Dr. Reese frowned. “I’m sorry to tell you this, but an Amish woman was brought into the ER early this morning with a GSW.”
Grace squinted to show she didn’t understand.
He explained further, “Sorry. A gunshot wound.”
Grace inhaled so sharply her neck spasmed in pain. “How? Who?”
“I’m not sure. She was shot in the back. She was brought in unconscious and hasn’t come to yet. Thankfully, your bishop was in the hospital.”
“Bishop Bontrager is here? Right now?”
“He’s in the waiting room downstairs. Once you’re discharged you can head down to ICU and see for yourself.” Reese checked her eyes with a light. “You still have a mild concussion, so take it easy. And absolutely no racing. Got it?”
“Not to worry about that, Doctor,” a stern voice said from the doorway.
Dr. Reese turned, in the process clearing Grace’s view of who had entered and interrupted.
“Leroy,” she said, unsure why he was there. “How...?”
“How could I not know? The whole community knows about your racing.” He frowned and tossed his blond hair out of his eyes as he approached Dr. Reese’s side. “I’ll take her from here.”
The doctor faced Grace with questioning eyes. “I’m sorry. I assumed the other Amish man was caring for you.”
Leroy answered before Grace could say a word. “Not anymore. Bishop Bontrager has instructed me to come get her. She is our responsibility, and he has some things to discuss with her about her poor choices.”
She looked pointedly at Leroy and said, “I have a job to do, and sometimes that means testing the horses out.”
Leroy nodded. “We’ll see what the bishop says about that. Right now, he’s expecting you.”
Grace swallowed hard, knowing she had gone too far with racing at the track. She could be in a lot of trouble. She squirmed, feeling a growing annoyance. But what could she say? Without her father to care for her, and her mamm dead, the bishop would step in to assign someone to fill that role.
And the whole community knew it would be Leroy.
“Are you all right with me releasing you to this man?” Dr. Reese asked.
Grace appreciated his concern, but there was no reason not to go with Leroy. And yet she shook her head and said, “I’d like to wait for Jack.”
Leroy’s eyes flared with anger. His lip curled, and Grace thought he would demand that she obey him. But in a flash, all expression of anger vanished. He smiled. “We can wait until he returns.”
“Returns?” Grace squinted in confusion. “Isn’t he right outside the room in his chair?”
“He wasn’t there when I entered,” Leroy said.
“Nor when I came, either,” Dr. Reese confirmed. “I thought it strange he would leave you unprotected, knowing someone tried to hurt you.”
Grace frowned, feeling disappointment, as well as a growing annoyance. She could have been killed. That idea frightened her, but she stood up from the bed and tempered her feelings. She was grateful for the collar, which assisted her in holding h
er head high. It gave her a semblance of dignity after having Jack let her down so carelessly.
Dr. Reese signed a piece of paper on a clipboard at the end of her bed and tore it off. Holding it out, he glanced from Grace to Leroy, then passed it to her. “You’re free to go—when you think you’re ready. Feel free to wait as long as you need. Would you like me to get an orderly to accompany you downstairs?”
Grace knew what he was really asking. Do you feel safe, Grace?
Without the ability to nod, the only way she could communicate was with her voice. She would have to state what she really wanted.
And that wasn’t Leroy.
“Ya, I would like to have an orderly.”
Dr. Reese went out to the hall and waved someone in. A moment later, a male with long black hair and wearing scrubs and a surgical mask low on his face entered the room with a wheelchair. Leroy stepped back for Grace to exit before him. As she passed he placed a hand on her shoulder. To the doctor, it may have looked like a gesture of comfort, but to Grace it felt like a walk to the woodshed.
She slowly settled her battered body into the conveyance, and as she was wheeled out, she took notice of the empty chair outside her door. It was where Jack had been keeping guard since she’d arrived the day before. Why had he left her side? She felt as though one of her horses had kicked her in the gut.
“Did you see where the Amish man who sat here went?” she asked the orderly as they moved past. The frantic beat of her heart had her gripping the arms of the wheelchair. She needed Jack to know where she was being taken.
“I haven’t seen another Amish man,” the orderly said from behind her as he whisked her toward the elevators.
Leroy stepped up to her side. “We both know that man is not Amish. It’s time to stop lying and come clean. Who is he and why is he living at your home? And now that other woman, who is also not Amish...? I wish you had come to me, Grace. She could die, and this will hurt our community.”
Grace tried to turn her head, but couldn’t. “What do you mean, die? What happened to Nic?” Her voice shook, then fear set in. “Where’s Daed?”
“She was shot, and I have no idea where Benjamin is. Bishop Bontrager sent me out there, but the place was empty.”
“They got him,” Grace cried, and started to stand.
A hand covered her shoulder. “You have to stay seated, ma’am,” the orderly told her. “It’s the hospital’s requirement until I get you to the door.”
“But my father could be hurt somewhere. Jack needs to find him.”
“Who is Jack?” Leroy asked, his voice growing impatient. “Do you mean Amos? Is Jack his real name? Tell me the truth, Grace. Once and for all. What have you gotten into? No more lying.”
Grace didn’t like to be accused of lying, and Jack had told her if she was ever asked who he was, she was to tell the truth.
The orderly pushed her up to the elevator and came around the front of the chair to press the button. With the neck brace fastened in place, Grace could only look straight at the man’s back, where his long black ponytail dangled. She dropped her gaze to his booties over his shoes.
The doors opened, and he returned to his place behind her. She tried to see his face, but without the ability to turn her head, she barely caught a glimpse. He pushed her in, so she was facing the back wall. She heard the doors close behind her, and the next second, she heard a thud.
“Is something wrong?” Grace asked, trying to turn her body to see behind her. A hand touched her shoulder again and held her in place.
“Everything’s fine.” The voice was a gentle whisper and she assumed Leroy had once again calmed himself.
Grace sighed and decided she would be honest with Leroy. She really had no other choice. “We had a valid reason for hiding his identity, Leroy. He’s an FBI agent here to investigate a crime. I need you to keep this secret, or these criminals will get away with what they’ve done.” Grace felt her lips tremble, and she closed her eyes, thinking of what else she needed him to know. “My mamm’s death wasn’t an accident. Someone caused her apparent ‘accident.’” Someone killed her, Leroy. And they tried to kill me. And now they have my daed.”
Grace held her breath as she waited for Leroy’s reaction. His silence spoke volumes. He had to be in shock at all she had just told him.
“I know it’s a lot to understand. We try to live a simple life separate from the English, but sometimes our worlds do overlap, and not always in the best ways. But can I trust you not to say anything just yet? Until we know who’s behind the crimes, the FBI needs to do their job. We can’t interrupt that.”
Still, silence loomed.
“Leroy?” Grace tried to turn, but the hand settled on her shoulder again.
Grace didn’t receive a reply, only a sharp pain in her arm. She couldn’t turn her head to see what had jabbed her, but she let out a weak scream before sleep crept over her. Some sort of drug, she thought in her muddled state. She also knew she’d just given Jack’s identity away to the bad guy—who probably had already gotten to him.
“Jack never would have left my side,” she mumbled. “Where is he...” She didn’t finish her sentence as darkness descended.
FOURTEEN
Jack opened his eyes and inhaled deeply. Pitch-black darkness surrounded him, and a powerful cold seeped into his bones.
Stay calm.
He slowed his panicked breaths to allow his mind to figure out where he was. He was lying flat, with his arms by his sides. He tried to move them, but hit something hard on both sides, and as he slowly raised them, touched more cold metal.
“Help!” he yelled, but didn’t want to use up any remaining oxygen, so waited to see if someone came to his aid.
When there was no reply, he felt his body to see if his hidden gun and phone were still strapped to him under his clothes. Finding those items, he breathed a bit easier. Whoever had stuffed him in here didn’t think to pat him down. They really believed he was Amish, and that was good for Grace. She would be safer if the perp didn’t know the FBI was onto him.
Jack pulled up his shirt and retrieved his phone. Switching it on brought the screen to full brightness. Lifting it, he saw the ceiling was less than a foot away from his face. Turning the device, he looked to his right and left. He was enclosed in a metal box. The smell told him where it was located. With that putrefactive odor, he could be in only one place.
The morgue.
That orderly who obviously was not part of the medical staff had stuffed him in a drawer down here in the hospital’s basement. But for how long?
Jack tried to call Nic, but the closed metal drawer didn’t allow phone reception. He was also almost out of battery power, which told him he’d been down here for many hours. He had to get to Grace before this guy did. But dropping his head back, Jack figured he was too late. The thug wouldn’t have wasted a moment to get to her.
Jack did the only thing he could: he raised his arms above his head and started banging on the frigid metal above him. Someone was bound to hear him and come to his aid.
“Is someone out there?” he yelled. “Help!”
Over and over he called out, with no response. Twisting as best he could in the confined space, Jack felt the edges of the door, checking for any hinges or latches. It seemed everything was on the outside.
In frustration, he banged his fist on it one more time, just as the door flew wide and revealed a terrified-looking woman on the other side.
She opened her mouth to let loose a scream, and Jack held up his hands to try to calm her fear.
“I know what this looks like, but I wasn’t dead. I’m FBI. Someone shoved me in here. Please pull me out.”
The frightened woman shrank back, shaking her head.
“Please, someone’s life depends on me getting to her in time. Just pull open this thing, and I’ll be on my way.”
Jack jumped out and ran for the door. “Thank you! I hope this doesn’t scar you for life.” He was running down the hall to the elevator before he realized she’d opened the morgue door to watch him go. The elevator opened and he stepped in. As he pressed the button for Grace’s floor, he waved to the woman, who was shaking her head as the doors closed.
When the elevator reached Grace’s floor, Jack bolted out and ran into Dr. Reese.
“There you are,” the doctor said. “I was hoping to see you. I just released Grace to the other Amish man. It made me uneasy without you there.”
Jack nearly grabbed the lapels of Reese’s white coat. “What do you mean, you released her?”
“I made sure to ask her if she was ready to go. She agreed she was content, going with Leroy.”
“Leroy Mast took her?” Jack tried to wrap his mind around this information. He hit the button for the elevator repeatedly, but the door wouldn’t open, so he started racing for the stairwell.
“Wait!” Dr. Reese called. “They’re downstairs in ICU. One of their own has been shot.”
Jack halted at the news, just as the elevator dinged and the doors finally opened.
Dr. Reese’s face drained of all color. “Nurse!” he yelled. “I need assistance!”
Jack ran back into the hall and approached the elevator. The doctor was hunched over someone sprawled on the floor inside. The simple black pants that matched Jack’s own told him they belonged to an Amish man.
But who?
Dr. Reese glanced back at Jack as a team of medical personnel ran from the workstation with a wheelchair. “It’s Leroy. I don’t understand. He left with the orderly who wheeled her out.”
Dr. Reese might not understand, but Jack did. “That was not an orderly. That was a killer.”
* * *
