And so that was that. Isobel was more than a little annoyed that the handsome Peter Stutzman had gone behind her back and gone straight to her parents to get their support. The three of them were taking sides against her. Worse still, her parents seemed to be getting on very well with the detective.
"Peter also says you must carry a cell phone." Her vadder's voice was firm.
A cell phone? Her voice rose with dismay. Isobel looked from her vadder to her mudder, but they were both expressionless. "But we're not allowed to have cell phones."
Peter Stutzman waved one hand expressively. "That's okay; I've cleared it with the bishop. He agrees that you need to have a cell phone with you at all times due to the seriousness of the situation."
Isobel again looked from one parent to another, but this time they were both nodding. "Datt, Mamm, surely you can’t agree with this?" she asked them.
"It’s for your own safety," Peter said.
Isobel shot him a glare. Her whole world was being turned upside down. Now there were four people against her: her parents, the bishop, and the detective. Well, not exactly against me, she told herself, trying to come to terms with the situation, but she felt as if she had lost her independence. She no longer had a job, and now the very details of her life were being decided for her.
Peter pulled a cell phone from his pocket, and moved closer to Isobel. Her heart fluttered wildly and her breath came in short gasps. "I'll show you how it works," he said. "My number is already in there. All you have to do is sweep your finger across it at the bottom to open it, like this," - he demonstrated - "and now it’s open."
Their fingers touched for a brief moment, and Isobel was not prepared for the powerful jolt that ran through her. She kept her eyes averted, not wanting the detective to see the effect he had on her.
The detective was still talking. "Now, you can see how it works?
Isobel nodded, looking aghast at the sight of the cell phone. She had not gone on rumspringa and had never used a cell phone before.
"And my number is the only number in there. I've put it in Favorites to make it easier and faster for you to call me, in case of, err, well, should you need to call me in a hurry."
The full weight of the situation settled on Isobel like a cold, dark, heavy blanket. Should she need to call in a hurry. Did the detective really think the mann would come for her as she was the witness? She shuddered involuntarily.
Peter made Isobel call him several times, to make sure she knew how to use it.
Finally, Isobel asked the question she had been dreading asking, for she did not really want to hear the answer spoken out aloud. "Detective, am I in danger?"
She saw a flash of concern pass across the detective's face but he hid it just as quickly. "I don't know, Isobel. If it is Raines, the man you are convinced you saw, he is a dangerous man, but as he has a water-tight alibi, he might not risk, err, coming after the only witness."
"But as I'm the only witness, won't he want to…" Isobel's voice trailed off, and she was embarrassed to hear her own voice sounding so shaken.
To her relief, the detective shook his head. "No, if it is Raines, it will look suspicious if he does try anything, and he can rest on his alibi."
"What if it isn’t the same mann?" her vadder asked, his voice full of concern.
Peter Stutzman shifted in his seat. "Your daughter is convinced it is the same man," he said. "What’s more, the Identi-Kit image was the same as the Raines' image."
"Would you like to stay for dinner?
Everyone turned to look at Mrs. Slabaugh. The question had come out of the blue.
"Thank you, Mrs. Slabaugh, but I had better be getting home. Thank you so much for your time." Peter stood up, and looked down at Isobel. "Are you sure you know how to use the cell phone now?"
Isobel nodded.
"Please remember to keep it on you at all times, no matter what."
Isobel nodded again and watched her vadder show the detective to the door. Part of her was pleased he was leaving, but part of her was sorely disappointed that he had not accepted her mudder's invitation to stay for dinner.
Psalm 103: 10 - 14.
He does not deal with us according to our sins, nor repay us according to our iniquities. For as high as the heavens are above the earth, so great is his steadfast love toward those who fear him; as far as the east is from the west, so far does he remove our transgressions from us. As a father shows compassion to his children, so the Lord shows compassion to those who fear him. For he knows our frame; he remembers that we are dust.
Chapter 8.
Two days later, Isobel was sitting with her parents after dinner playing the card game, Dutch Blitz. The wind blew outside, turning the blades on the ancient windmill which sat near the equally ancient barn. Both of them were once painted red, but now most of the paint was coming off in long strips, or had already done so. The blades whined and whistled as they turned, but Isobel and her mudder and vadder were so used to it that they barely registered it.
“Ach, did you hear that?” Isobel’s mudder jumped suddenly. She was a short and portly woman, contrasting with her tall and thin husband.
Isobel looked at her mother. “What? Do you mean Blessing whinnying loudly? I've never heard him do that before."
Her mudder shook her head. “Nee, I thought I heard something else. I don't mean Blessing; I just thought he was stirred up by the wind. I mean I thought I heard a car.”
Isobel’s father stood, and moved to the large window in the family room. He bent at the waist, and peered out into the darkness.
“I don’t see anything,” he said in his deep voice. He reached up with his thin but hardened fingers and tugged at his gray baard.
“Well, it’s dark,” his wife said from her chair. “You aren’t likely to see anything, not from in here at any rate.”
Before her vadder could answer, Isobel heard Blessing whinnying again, and then another sound. It sounded like a step on the front porch creaking. Everyone held their breath, and then another sound came. It sounded like someone trying to open the locked front door.
Isobel was glad, after all, that there were now locks on the doors. They had never had locks on their doors before, being in a peaceful Amish community, surrounded by their fields of corn and wheat and vegetables. Their closest Englisch neighbor was the kindly John Burns, a man in his eighties whose wife had died five years earlier. Beyond that, it was six or so miles before they would run into anyone else.
After Isobel had seen the murderer flee, she had not felt safe, but at the same time, had not truly accepted the fact that she might be in danger. But now, hearing the step creak and the door handle move, her blood ran cold.
Isobel's heart pounded in her chest so hard that it blocked out sound; it beat in her ears so firmly and resoundingly that she missed what her vadder and mudder were saying until she noticed their lips were moving. Then she forced herself to calm down. She drew a deep breath, shut her eyes, and focused on what they were saying.
“I’m going to see who's there,” her vadder was saying.
“Nee, nee, you're not.” Her mudder clutched at his arm.
Isobel’s father shook his head and made his way into the living room. Her mother rose from beside her and rushed after him. Isobel was rooted to the spot in fear. Then Isobel heard the lock snap open and her mudder speaking loudly. “Nee, nee, Jonas. You can’t go out there!”
“I must; I need to see who is sneaking around my haus at night.”
“And do what?” Her mudder's voice was tense.
“Speak with him. Ask him to leave.”
“Nee. Get Isobel to call the detective.” Her mother's voice was trembling.
Isobel stood suddenly and picked up the cell phone from the table.
Her father nodded. “Go ahead,” he said. “Give him a call.”
Less than thirty minutes later, headlights shone through the living room window. In that thirty minutes they had not heard any more noises, and
Blessing had stopped whinnying, but everyone was tense and on edge. Isobel’s vadder was first to rise when the lights splashed across the wall, but the two women followed him to the front door.
He peeked out of the window and then unlocked and opened the door. Detective Stutzman soon burst through the door. He was dressed for work in a gray suit, with the jacket blowing behind him a bit as he walked briskly. His hand was on his hip, resting on the butt of his gun. He hurried into the haus, his face filled with concern.
“Thank you for coming, Peter," Mr. Slabaugh said, "but you’re going to need to leave your gun in the car. As you know, we don’t allow weapons in our haus.”
“Oh yes, please forgive me," he said.
When Peter returned to the porch, he was welcomed inside. He stood just inside the door and smiled softly to Isobel.
“Are you all right?” he asked her. His voice was full of tenderness and concern. When Isobel nodded, he continued. “You heard noises, and someone was trying to get in?” the detective asked the family at large.
“Jah,” Isobel’s father said. “Mary thought she heard a car, and then we heard someone walk up the porch steps, and then he tried the door handle."
"He was probably trying to scare you," Peter said. "If he had really wanted to get inside, he would have waited until your gas lamps were off, and waited until the middle of the night. Jonas, come with me and we'll have a look around, and you ladies stay inside. Lock the door behind us."
The men went outside to search the grounds together. The women stayed inside, with the front door locked, but Isobel’s mother peeked out through the window, holding a curtain aside.
When the men finally returned, everyone went into the living room, to the warmth of the fire.
“Someone was here,” Peter said, holding his hands in front of the fire and rubbing them together. “We found tire tracks just off the drive some ways up, and footprints here and there. They should keep until morning, when I can get a team out here to run some plaster molds. I can run them, see if we can get anything useful from them.”
Isobel did not know what to say; the idea of someone walking around her haus and trying to get in was all too much for her. She held a hand to her chest as Peter continued to speak.
“I’m going to stay on your couch tonight. I won’t bring my gun in, but you need someone here just in case.”
“Nee,” Isobel said, without thinking. She was not sure why she was so opposed to the idea, and in truth it intrigued her a bit. Yet to have this mann, who at the same time both infuriated her and attracted her, on the couch, brought up too many conflicting feelings within her.
“I need to keep you safe," he said in an insistent tone that brooked no argument. "If this is about what you saw, if someone wants to keep you quiet, they aren’t going to stop.”
Isobel’s mudder clutched at her throat. “Is that what you think this is? Is someone going to come for her?”
“It seems as if someone has already come,” Isobel’s vadder said. "If Detective Stutzman thinks he should stay, then he’s going to stay.”
And just like that it was settled. Her father sent Isabel upstairs to fetch some blankets and pillows from a closet for Peter. She carried them in her arms down the stairs. She could overhear her parents talking in the kitchen, and when she returned to the living room, only Stutzman was there.
Isobel’s cheeks burned red. She was embarrassed that he would see she was so flustered. She moved to the couch and dumped the blankets and pillows upon it. She turned to leave without a word, but Peter stepped forward and took her softly by the arm, pulling her back around to face him.
“What are you doing?” Isobel asked, her eyes wide.
“I just wanted to let you know that I’m not going to let anything happen to you. Whoever is doing this, Raines, or anyone else, I won’t let them get to you.”
Isobel took a breath. “Why don’t you think it was Raines?”
“I don’t think Raines is the guy you saw, because we have him on video at the same time the murder happened. His lawyer has his waiting room on tape. Raines went in well before the murder, and came out a while after the murder. He was in there for the whole time. That doesn’t mean I don’t think he’s involved, of course; he could've hired someone.”
“It is him, I tell you,” Isobel said. “The picture!”
Peter sighed and shook his head. He let go of Isobel’s arm. “We don’t have to have this conversation again; we had it a couple of days ago. We can’t go after him, not with an alibi like that, not with him on tape. We just can’t. If it is him, somehow, or if he’s involved, we have to play it smart. If he’s coming here, or sending someone, we can get him. We’ll run those tracks tomorrow, and we’ll pull it against any cars we know him to own, or his friends. There are footprints, so we’ll have the type of shoe worn. This will give us a lot of openings to figure out what exactly is going on. All right?”
Isobel nodded. She felt as if she wanted to say something else, but instead she shook her head softly and went up to bed.
In her bed she lay under the covers and stared at the ceiling. The waxing moon was fat and almost full outside, a big silver orb hanging in the sky. It threw moonlight into Isobel’s room, sending light across her floor, up and over the bed. Isobel looked to the moonlight, and watched it inch slowly along her covers as the moon floated lazily in the sky. She thought of the fact that someone had come to her haus, someone who she was convinced was out to hurt her. She thought of Gott and His protection, and she also thought of Peter, and how much safer she felt knowing he was downstairs. She closed her eyes, and tried to quiet the thoughts that were running through her head, keeping her awake. Eventually she did, and she drifted off to sleep.
* * *
Detective Peter Stutzman made himself as comfortable as he could on the faded, blue couch, his knees bent so that he could fit without his feet hanging over the edge. Why was he so attracted to the girl? He knew that the Amish believed that God had chosen one man for every woman, and if he were Amish right now, he would believe without any doubt whatsoever that Isobel was the girl for him. But right now, he wasn’t Amish; he was Englisch.
This was odd; he barely knew her. Yet she produced in him an overwhelming urge to protect her, to take her in his arms and make her safe. To make matters worse, he wanted nothing more than to kiss her, to feel the touch of her soft lips upon his. You're crazy, Peter, he said to himself as he closed his eyes and tried vainly to get to sleep.
Romans 6: 4.
We were buried therefore with him by baptism into death, in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might walk in newness of life.
Chapter 9.
It was the second Sunday that the church gathering was held and this Sunday it was at Rebecca and Albert Stutzman’s haus. Isobel was pleased to be going to the gathering. She always felt safe amongst a large gathering of the community; it was as if Gott was right there amongst them and nothing could hurt her.
Isobel saw Melissa standing by herself and hurried toward her. Melissa and Isobel always sat with each other at the gatherings.
“Hiya, Isobel.” Melissa leaned over to peer into Isobel's face. “My, you look dreadful. Didn’t you sleep last night?”
Isobel shook her head. “Nee, I’ve had trouble sleeping ever since… Well, you know.”
Melissa's face was filled with concern. “I know. Have the police found the person who did it yet?”
“Nee, I don’t think so. They would've told us if they had.”
Normally at the Stutzmans’ place, in warmer weather the gatherings were held out in the barn, but on this occasion, they had all their furniture moved out of the haus and all the wooden church benches fitted in close rows down the center of the haus.
Melissa and Isobel sat in the back row on the women’s side. As always, it was the menner on the one side and the women on the other. During the half hour of singing, Isobel started to feel her old self agai
n.
In fact, the Loblied, "Hymn of Praise," which was always the second song sung at every Amish church meeting - no matter which community one was in, this was always the second song - lifted her spirits as it always did.
O Lord Father, we bless thy name,
Thy love and thy goodness praise;
That thou, O Lord, so graciously
Have been to us always.
Thou hast brought us together, O Lord,
To be admonished through thy word.
Bestow on us thy grace.
O may thy servant be endowed
With wisdom from on high,
To preach thy word with truth and power,
Thy name to glorify.
Which needful is to thy own praise,
Give hunger for thy word always,
This should be our desire.
Put wisdom in our hearts while here
On earth thy will be known,
They word through grace to understand
What thou would have us to do.
To live in righteousness, O Lord,
Submissive to thy word,
That all our vows prove true.
Thine only be the glory, O Lord,
Likeness all might and power.
That we praise thee in our assembly
And feel grateful every hour.
With all our hearts we pray,
Wilt thou be with us every day
Through Christ our Lord. Amen.
The words seemed to lift the heaviness off her heart until it was clear and light. Isobel turned and smiled at Melissa just as the first minister was about to speak. With that smile she told Melissa she was feeling better. She knew that Melissa would be able to read her smile, since the two of them were as close as schweschders. Melissa gave her a big smile right back.
A minister stood up in front of them and began his preaching. He was a large man with thick, dark hair and a large, bushy, dark baard. His voice boomed right through the Stutzmans' haus. He spoke on forgiveness and how everyone should forgive one another as Gott has forgiven them.
The Amish Buggy Horse BOXED SET Books 1-3 (Amish Romance Book Bundle: Faith, Hope, Charity) (Boxed Set: The Amish Buggy Horse) Page 18
