Rachel's Rescue

by Serena B. Miller

  Rachel was appalled. “Is he going to be okay?”

  “I don’t know,” Nick said. “The doctor said the next twenty-four hours will tell us. Right now he’s critical.”

  “Oh, Nick!” she said. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Not as sorry as the people who did this will be when I get hold of them,” he said. “I love that dog.”

  “I know you do,” Rachel said. “We all do.”

  “Hey, I gotta go, Rachel. It’s Sunday and Doc doesn’t have any staff in here today. He needs my help.”

  It seemed an odd coincidence that the only dog in the area with the training to help find the children was deliberately poisoned at the same time Bobby and Ezra went missing. The thought of what it might mean gave Rachel a chill.

  Her two other local options were Kim, who would be little help, and the latest addition to their five-person force—a rookie with whom both she and Ed were unimpressed. She doubted he would do much except get in the way, and she didn’t trust Kim not to put the whole thing on Facebook.

  She knew there were three neighbors along this dirt road. They were farm people who lived much of their lives outdoors. There was a good chance that someone had seen the two little boys wandering off. Or—this thought was nearly more than she could face—perhaps they had seen an unfamiliar car or van.

  “I’m going to go question the neighbors,” she told Samuel. “Maybe one of them saw something.”

  “There is no need,” Samuel said. “The neighbors on this road are all part of our church, and they are here. I’ve already asked them if they saw the boys. Most were inside their homes or in their barns doing chores. No one saw anything.”

  “If only I had not taken my eyes off the boys…,” Naomi said. “I am so sorry.”

  “I would not have expected to have to watch them every minute, either.” Rachel tried to comfort her friend in spite of wishing with all her heart that Naomi had not taken the time to put away the leftovers.

  “I have trouble believing that our Ezra would leave our driveway when his mother told him not to,” Luke said. “That is not like him.”

  “This is true.” Naomi nodded. “He is an obedient child.”

  “It is probably your son’s fault that they did not stay in the yard,” Luke said. “I am sorry to have to say it, but I regret that we allowed your Bobby to be friends with our son. I was afraid that spending so much time with an Englisch child would not be good for Ezra, but Naomi’s old friendship with you made her softhearted.”

  “Luke,” Rachel said softly, “please don’t blame Bobby for Ezra’s disappearance.”

  “I do not blame your son; I blame you,” Luke said. “If you had stayed at home where a mother belongs and raised your son yourself instead of bringing him over here so often, this would not have happened.”

  Rachel knew that Luke’s words came from a place of fear and illness, but they stung no less. She looked at Naomi, hoping for support, but Naomi remained silent. Either she did not want to speak up and contradict her husband or she agreed with him.

  It had never occurred to Rachel that either of them resented Bobby’s boisterous presence in their lives—especially since she was paying them for watching him.

  “I apologize, Luke,” she said. “After we find the boys, I will not bring my son to visit again.”

  “Naomi,” he said, “I need another pill. The pain is worse.” Luke shuffled back inside with Naomi following.

  Rachel could usually handle harsh words—she had heard plenty of them as a cop—but the combination of fear, mother guilt, her pregnancy, and Luke’s accusations brought her tears dangerously close to the surface right when she could least afford to lose control.

  On the far end of the porch, she saw that Samuel was trying to be the wise bishop he thought he should be. He sat on the porch swing with his head bowed, obviously praying, while men and women wearing black hats and bonnets dotted the countryside all around them, busily hunting for any sign of the boys.

  Samuel finished his prayer and Rachel approached him.

  “I’m grateful for all these people hunting for the boys,” Rachel said, “and I’m thankful for your prayers…but I think it’s time to stop assuming that the boys are simply lost. It’s been more than enough time to search before calling the authorities. If this is an abduction, there are people much better trained than I am in dealing with it. I think we need to prepare for all possibilities.”

  “There are many bishops who would disagree with you,” Samuel said. “We are slow to seek help outside of our own people.”

  “I am aware of that, Samuel.”

  “Are you also aware of the good reasons behind our reluctance?”

  “Of course I am. Englisch people are fascinated with the Amish. The hint of an Amish child being lost or abducted will bring people out of the woodwork—and not necessarily in a good way.”

  “Then you understand why I hope to keep news of this situation confined within our church alone. Give my people a little more time to search.”

  “I’m sorry, Samuel, but I’ll never forgive myself if I don’t do everything within my power to find those children.”

  “There is much evil in the world these days,” Samuel said. “Too many people like to prey on children who have unsuspecting parents.”

  At that moment, they heard a shout from far down the road. Samuel leaped to his feet. Rachel saw Peter running toward them with a small, black, flat-rimmed Amish hat in his hands.

  “I found this in the ditch near the culvert.” He handed the hat to her. “I think it might be Ezra’s.”

  “Naomi!” Rachel yelled. “Peter found something.”

  Naomi came rushing out of the house. When she saw the hat, she grabbed it and clutched it to her as though it were her son instead of his hat that she clasped to her breast.

  “I assume he was wearing this the last you saw him?” Rachel said.

  “Either he or Bobby.”

  “Why would Bobby be wearing an Amish hat?”

  “I did not tell you? Bobby spilled a glass of lemonade on himself during lunch. He was so sticky and miserable, I gave him a quick wash and dressed him in Ezra’s spare clothes.”

  “And I’m guessing since he was dressed as Amish, he insisted on wearing a hat as well.”

  “Yes,” Naomi said. “He seemed quite taken with himself, wearing Amish clothing. This is Ezra’s old hat from last year. It’s the one Bobby was wearing.”

  Rachel’s stomach was in a knot. If someone had kidnapped Bobby and Ezra, she knew Bobby would resist. That was his nature. The hat could have been knocked off in some sort of scuffle. The discovery was especially ominous because she knew that if it had simply blown off his head while riding in the pony cart, he would have gone back and gotten it. That was also in his nature.

  “What’s this?” Naomi had discovered a note card stuck inside the hat. She brought it out, looked at it, and gasped, her eyes going wide.

  “Let me see that.” Rachel plucked the card out of her hand.

  “What does it say?” Samuel asked.

  “It is written in a heavy hand that no child could copy,” Rachel said. “And it says, ‘An eye for an eye.’ ”

  Chapter 51

  Naomi’s cell phone, which was lying on a side table on the porch, began to ring. She looked at Rachel uncertainly.

  “Go ahead and answer it,” Rachel said.

  Rachel hoped it was merely a relative or a friend who had heard about the children’s disappearance. Then she saw the color drain from Naomi’s face.

  “Ezra!” Naomi cried. “Where are you?” Trembling, Naomi steadied herself by gripping the back of a chair. “Don’t take the phone away. I want to talk to my son. Where is he? Who are you?”

  Rachel’s worst fears were confirmed.

  Naomi paused for several heart-stopping seconds as she listened to a voice on the other end of the phone. “But we don’t have that kind of money.” Another long pause. “Yes, I understand.”
/>   Her hand dropped by her side and the phone slid to the floor. She stared at Rachel and Samuel as though in shock.

  “Naomi?” Rachel said. “Talk to me.”

  Her friend continued to stare.

  “Look at me!” Rachel gave her friend a shake. “Tell us who that was. What did they say?”

  Naomi looked at her, and the terror Rachel saw there was so deep and wild that she took an involuntary step back.

  “The man said he has both boys. He wants one million dollars apiece. If he doesn’t get the money, he’ll kill them. He said if we call in the police, he will kill them. If we call in the FBI, he will disappear and make our children disappear as well. He said we will never know where their bodies are buried unless we do everything he says.”

  Rachel went dizzy with fear, but then her fear was replaced with anger. If she could put her hands on that kidnapper right now, she would gladly tear him apart with her bare hands—pregnant or not.

  “Doesn’t he already know I’m a cop?” Rachel asked. “How did he expect me not to find out about this? I’m Bobby’s mother!”

  “Maybe Bobby didn’t tell him,” Naomi said. “He might think Bobby is Amish since they’re dressed alike and Bobby’s hair has grown nearly as long as Ezra’s these past few weeks.”

  It’s long because I didn’t have time to cut it. Just like I didn’t have time to buy new church clothes that fit him—or even notice that he needed new church clothes until this morning. The memory of his fragile-looking ankles and wrists sticking out of his too-short pants and too-short shirt felt like an accusation.

  Such a good little boy with such a kind heart. He’d been so patient with all his parents’ busyness. He had tried to fit his little life around the things they were doing. Why hadn’t she paid more attention?

  “If he doesn’t know who the boys are,” Rachel said, “how did this man know your phone number?”

  “Ezra might have given it to him. When Luke got sick and the church allowed me to carry a cell phone, I had Ezra memorize the number. I thought he might need to know it.”

  Luke staggered out the door. “Who was that on your phone?”

  Naomi told him.

  He would have fallen had Naomi not been standing close enough to grab him.

  “This day has been too hard,” Naomi said. She guided her husband to a porch chair and tucked an afghan around him, which he immediately threw off.

  “I feel so useless,” Luke fretted. “Why would anyone think we have money? We don’t even own this farm. We’re barely able to pay the rent on it.”

  “Did the caller say anything else?” Rachel asked.

  “When I told him we don’t have that kind of money, he laughed and said we should make our bishop draw it from the helping fund the bishops are in charge of, the Amish Helping Fund.”

  “That’s strange. It must be someone who knows at least a little about the Amish culture, to know that fund exists,” Rachel said. “What did he sound like?”

  “He had a gravelly voice, like someone who has smoked too many cigarettes.”

  “Did you hear any background noise?” Rachel asked.

  “Now that you mention it, I did hear something strange,” Naomi mused. “A silly voice saying silly Englisch words over and over.”

  “Could you make out any of them?”

  “Yes, but they didn’t make any sense. Something about a sponge and pants?” Naomi said. “I don’t think I heard it right.”

  “SpongeBob SquarePants?”

  “Yes, that’s right,” Naomi said. “Is that important?”

  “It’s a kids’ TV show. Wherever the boys are, it sounds like they are watching cartoons.”

  “A home or a hotel,” Samuel said. “They’ve settled in somewhere. The boys have been gone, what? About an hour?”

  “Maybe a little longer,” Rachel said. “We don’t know how long they were missing before Naomi noticed.”

  “So,” Samuel said, “figuring sixty miles per hour, probably less on these roads, and deducting the time it would take to get the boys inside and the TV turned on…they are probably within forty miles of here. Maybe a lot less.”

  “Asking about the Amish Helping Fund bothers me,” Rachel said. “Most outsiders don’t know about that. Also, there is the ‘eye for an eye’ note. Are there any particularly disgruntled ex-Amish people you can think of who might do something like this? Someone who would like to get back at the church?”

  “There are some ex-Amish who have a dislike for the church, but kidnapping? Our people wouldn’t do this,” Samuel said. “Even those who have left us. They might complain about the rules, but they would never do something this evil. Not our people.”

  “I have to get the FBI involved,” Rachel said. “They have the training and the tools to deal with this. I don’t.”

  “No!” Naomi said. “They will kill them if we do. You did not hear the man’s voice. I did. He meant what he said.”

  “I agree with my wife,” Luke said. “No police of any kind. It is too big of a risk.”

  “Let me call the bishops who are in charge of the Helping Fund,” Samuel suggested. “Perhaps they will give us the money to ransom the children.”

  Joe had heard horror stories about the roads in Michigan, and he now knew why. They’d bounced over plenty of potholes as they neared Detroit. Now the highway was packed with cars and families making their way south after spending a long weekend at the tourist spots north of Detroit. Everyone was trying to get home in time to get up for work on Monday morning.

  “I can’t go any faster,” Darren apologized.

  “I know,” Joe fretted. “But why did every person on the face of the planet have to decide to head the direction we’re going? I should be with my wife, helping to hunt for my son.”

  “Uh-oh,” Darren said.

  “What?”

  “Roadwork.” Darren nodded at a sign they were passing as they neared Toledo. “They’re going to force us down to one lane up ahead.”

  It was not Joe’s intention for his fist to put a dent in the dash of his truck, but his body seemed to have developed a mind of its own.

  “Breaking your hand isn’t going to help find Bobby,” Darren observed.

  “No, but it makes me feel better.”

  Chapter 52

  “I won’t wear that.” Bobby stuck out his lower lip and crossed his arms over his chest. “You can’t make me.”

  “I thought Amish kids would be easy,” the man who had grabbed them said to the dark-haired woman. “I thought they’d do anything we told them to.”

  The man’s name was Junior and the dark-haired woman’s name was Greta. Junior was big. Even bigger than Daddy, although Bobby was pretty sure Daddy could still beat him up. Junior had a shaved head, a lot of muscles, some interesting tattoos of pretty girls, and a loud voice. Greta was small and talked like a mouse. They were brother and sister, and Bobby was pretty sure they didn’t like each other very much right now.

  “They’re usually very obedient,” she said. “At least the ones I’ve known are. The other little boy didn’t make a peep when I cut his hair and put Englisch clothes on him.”

  “Well, this one is defective,” Junior said. He raised his hand as though to strike him. “I bet I can make him obey, though.”

  “Don’t!” She inserted herself between Junior and Bobby. “I said I’d help you get the money and I will, but you promised you wouldn’t hurt the kids. They haven’t done anything wrong.”

  Junior lowered his fist. “Do you think they’ll come through with the money?”

  “Two little Amish boys?” she said. “Of course they will.”

  “And they won’t call the cops?”

  “The Amish don’t want anything to do with the police. You know that. You’re the one who used to run with them when you were a kid. The church takes care of everything.”

  Bobby was not happy. First these people dragged him and Ezra out of the pony cart right after they’d finally
gotten finished with church and lunch and were starting to have some real fun. Then they called Ezra’s mommy and tried to scare her.

  Something had made him wait to give his real name or Rachel’s or his daddy’s phone numbers. He had good reason to hold back information. He still remembered how his daddy had changed his name when they were running from the reporters after his mommy died. He had a feeling that it would not be smart to let Junior know who his daddy was.

  If he hadn’t been so little, he could have fought Junior. Instead, he told a lie. He told them the wrong name and said his mom and dad didn’t have a telephone. Lying was wrong, but he had a feeling he needed to protect the information of who he belonged to, for now.

  They were too stupid to realize he wasn’t an Amish boy, and he liked knowing he had a secret from them. It made him feel like he had at least a little bit of control over what happened to him and Ezra.

  “Now, sweetheart,” the woman cajoled, “just put this nice little shirt on. We need for you to look Englisch for a while.”

  He glanced over at his friend. Ezra looked scared and funny in Englisch clothes and the bad haircut Greta had given him with her scissors.

  “I’m Amish. I don’t want to wear Englisch clothes!” Bobby was so frustrated that he started shouting.

  “You little brat,” Junior said. “You’ll wear the clothes or I’ll know the reason why. Greta, make the kid pipe down. Someone might hear.”

  “People are used to hearing children yell around here. I babysit for people, remember?”

  “Where are those kids today?”

  “I told the parents I was going on vacation,” she said. “If this works out, we might be able to go on vacation permanently.”

  “I wish we’d picked a different kid,” Junior grumbled. “It would have been a lot easier.”

  “Hey, this whole thing was your idea. You wanted to get back at Luke for what he did to us, remember? Picking some random kid wouldn’t have worked.”