by Alison Stone
A little voice in her head cautioned her. She couldn’t keep calling on Conner when she needed something and push him away at the same time. She wasn’t being fair to him.
Grace’s gaze drifted to the bulletin board in the kitchen with a list of local services. She dialed the number and seemed satisfied that she had done the right thing when a short time later a white van pulled up along the bottom of her driveway. He probably didn’t want to risk getting stuck in the snow.
Grace ran outside and hopped in. The driver explained that he had just dropped someone off nearby.
She said a silent prayer of gratitude. After everything that had gone wrong lately, she was thankful for a timely ride. She hated to leave Emma out in the cold for long.
Grace gave the driver directions. A short time later, snow and slush kicked up under the van’s tires as the driver slowed and pulled over on the opposite side of the road from Emma’s horse and wagon.
“Who pulls someone over in this weather?” Grace muttered, not expecting the driver to answer. She released her seatbelt and leaned forward to study the pickup truck with a flashing dome light on its dash.
Strange, not a regular patrol car.
The deputy, his face obscured by the brim of his hat, stood next to the wagon. Emma was still sitting on the wagon’s bench, wearing a heavy black bonnet and winter cape. Something didn’t feel right. Grace grabbed the handle of the sliding door. “Wait here, please,” she told the driver. “I shouldn’t be long.”
She hopped out, careful to avoid the patches of ice. The harsh wind slapped her in the face. Holding the collar of her coat tight at the neck, she crossed the road to where the officer stood with his back to her, talking to Emma.
“What’s the concern here, deputy?” Grace said, both confused and angered by the situation. Her only restraint came from her gratitude that the deputy had allowed her young friend to call her. Emma wasn’t a troublemaker or a drinker, not that Grace knew, anyway.
The officer turned around and Grace jerked her head back. “Kevin?”
“Hi, Grace. I understand you’ve come to rescue Emma.”
“I’m confused. I thought you were retired.”
Kevin rubbed his gloved hands together against the cold. “The sheriff hires some of us back on a contract basis to keep the streets safe. I’m sure you understand.”
“Not exactly. In fact, I’m sure this must be a misunderstanding.”
“Yah, I was careful,” Emma said.
“You were weaving all over the road. I think you might have had too much to drink. I pulled you over for your own protection and that of anyone who might come into your path.”
“Were you drinking?” Grace stared into the frightened Amish girl’s watery eyes.
“Neh. I promise. I’m coming back from checking on my sister. She’s expecting a baby.”
“Is Ruthie okay?”
“Yah. I don’t think the baby is ready to meet us.” A small smile flickered on the young woman’s sweet face.
Grace squeezed her hand and whispered, “Don’t worry. I’ll handle this and get you home.”
“Thank you. I’m not sure my mem would be too happy if the sheriff’s department brought me home.”
“I understand.” Grace let out a long frustrated huff and turned her attention to Kevin. “What do you do in situations like this? Obviously, you allowed her to call me. Can I promise you that I’ll see her safely home?”
Kevin seemed to ponder this a minute. “She needs to be more careful. It’s dangerous out here on the roads at night, especially for young ladies who’ve been drinking.” The underlying meaning of his words sent fear skittering up Grace’s spine: women, alone, night.
“I wasn’t drinking,” Emma insisted. Grace touched the young woman’s arm, reassuring her. Kevin was going to let her off with a warning. No harm, no foul. It seemed pointless to argue.
“I can take you home, Emma. Let’s go.”
Emma started to scoot off the bench of the wagon when her eyes grew wide. “My horse. I can’t leave her on the side of the road.” Emma looked even more panic stricken now.
Grace glanced at Kevin. Surely they’ve run into this predicament before. “What do we do about the horse?”
“I can’t allow you to drive.” Kevin’s tone lacked compassion.
“Please, I’m not...” Emma let her words trail off in exasperation.
Kevin turned to Grace. “Do you know how to handle a horse?”
Grace pressed a hand to her chest. “Are you kidding me?”
“Okay, I have an idea. You drive my truck—you can drive, right?—and I’ll take the horse back to the barn at the bed & breakfast. It’s closer than the Hershberger farm.”
“Yes,” Grace agreed, eager for a solution. “I can have Eli bring the horse and wagon to your home in the morning.” She addressed the last part to Emma.
“Okay,” Emma said, clearly not sure about any of this.
Grace walked Emma over to the van and pulled open the door. She could feel Kevin’s eyes on them from across the road. A fluttering feeling settled in her belly. Grace leaned in close. She needed a plan. A backup in case something went wrong.
But you know Kevin. You’re just cautious because of recent events. But...
Unable to shake her misgivings, Grace leaned in close to her Amish friend. “Emma, I should be home in thirty minutes. Once I get home, I’m going to call the business phone in your barn. If you don’t hear from me by then, call 9-1-1 and ask to speak to Captain Conner Gates. Tell him exactly what happened. Tell him that Kevin Schrock was the man who pulled you over. Kevin,” she emphasized. Grace considered jumping into the van with Emma and leaving the scene.
“I don’t understand...” Emma started.
“What’s going on?” Grace jumped when she realized Kevin was standing right behind her. He took her arm firmly, and she looked up at him with a question in her eyes.
He eased his grip a bit. “Come on. Let’s get the horse safely home.” Kevin grabbed the door handle and slammed it closed with Emma inside. He handed the driver some money through the open driver’s side window, then tapped the roof of the van. “Safe travels.” Then he turned to Grace. “Let’s get this horse settled.” Despite his innocuous words, a dark shadow lurked in the depths of his eyes.
* * *
“The driveway is plowed and the walks are shoveled.” Conner took off his gloves and hat, then stomped his boots on the carpet just inside the entryway at his dad’s house.
“I’m more than capable,” his father hollered from his recliner in front of the TV toward the back of the house.
Conner walked through the dining room and took off his coat. He threw it over the chair “I know. But I don’t mind.”
His father laughed. “You don’t even plow your own driveway.”
Conner tilted his head. “Just gives me more time to do yours.” He sat down on the edge of the couch in the adjacent family room.
“Actually I’m surprised. I thought you’d be trying to charm your lady friend before Heather and Zach get home from their honeymoon.” Conner’s father took a sip of his soda and leaned back in his recliner. “I don’t imagine she’ll be sticking around town much longer.”
“Yeah, well, you know me. More the bachelor type.” And she had refused his dinner invitation.
His father aimed the remote at the TV and turned the volume down. Setting his soda on the side table, he shifted in his chair to get a good look at his son. “I’ve never been one to speak from the heart. And my motto’s always been live and let live, unless, of course, that involves going against the law.”
“Not sure I’m following.” He and his father discussed sports, weather, the occasional case. Not feelings.
“I have to say my piece. Up until now, you’ve dated here and there. I always bought into your claims t
hat you preferred bachelorhood. The freedom of it all. I can see why you might think that’s true.” He held out his palm and plastered on an exaggerated smile, indicating his own living situation. “Sometimes I think you chose to be alone because of how your mom and I hurt you.”
Conner held up his hands, not willing to get into this with his dad. Conner’s mom had hurt both of them when she walked out after Sarah Miller’s murder case took over his father’s life. She claimed she could never compete with a dead woman for his father’s attention. His father claimed his mother never understood the stresses of the job. At a standstill, they never reconciled.
“I know you had a job to do and Mom didn’t understand. It’s an important job. I get it.”
“I don’t think you do. Don’t let this job consume you. If you can find happiness, grab it. Grace needs a guy like you. A good guy. Show her what a good guy is like.”
Conner dragged a hand through his hair. “She’s witnessed a lot in her lifetime. Losing her mom to violence. Knowing her former brother-in-law terrorized her sister. That shapes a person.”
“You can change that. For both of you,” his father pleaded.
Conner lifted a shoulder, unable to see how their very different lives would fit together. Starting to feel uncomfortable at all this touchy-feely talk, he asked, “Did you order the pizza?”
“Yep, should be ready.”
Conner went to the front hall and pulled his father’s coat off a hanger. “My coat’s wet. I’m going to grab yours.”
“No problem. Pick up more pop while you’re out,” his father hollered from his cozy spot in front of the TV.
“Sure thing.” He stepped outside and the wind felt raw on his exposed head and hands. The key was to dress for the weather, only then could people embrace it.
Grace wasn’t a fan of the cold weather. He couldn’t help but wonder if she could be convinced to make Quail Hollow her home.
* * *
Driving Kevin’s truck, Grace pulled out behind Emma’s wagon with Kevin behind the reins. He told her to follow him with her flashers on in his truck. Something about this seemed very wrong.
But would a man who bothered to care for a horse mean her any harm? Perhaps I’m overreacting.
She reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone. She didn’t like to use her phone while driving, but figured this couldn’t wait. She dialed Conner’s number and held her breath. Her shoulders sagged when it went to voicemail again.
“Where are you?” she muttered.
“Leave a message...”
“Conner, it’s me again. Listen, Emma Hershberger got pulled over by Kevin Schrock. He said he was working with the sheriff’s department on a contract basis.” She tried to keep her voice even. “Just seemed odd. I put Emma in a van home and right now I’m driving his truck back to the bed & breakfast behind him. He’s driving Emma’s wagon. Strange, right? I don’t know.” As she rambled on, she began to question why she called. “Just call me when you get this.”
Grace ended the call and glanced at her phone’s display. Who else could she call? She didn’t want to call the sheriff’s department because she didn’t want Emma to get into more trouble if Grace’s “bad feeling” turned out to be paranoia. What if they sent a deputy to Emma’s house? Maryann would be upset. She slid the phone into her pocket and turned her full attention to the road.
Dear Lord, please keep me safe and quiet my racing thoughts.
Surprisingly, Kevin seemed comfortable behind the reins of the horse. It took longer to get back to the bed & breakfast than it had taken Grace to drive out. She didn’t envy the Amish form of transportation in the bitter cold of winter.
Kevin stopped the wagon near the end of the driveway to the bed & breakfast. Grace pulled the truck in front of the horse. She gave Kevin a few minutes to unhitch the horse and guide it toward the barn.
She hopped out of the warm truck. Her instincts told her to go directly into the bed & breakfast, but she had to give Kevin his truck keys. She jogged over to the barn.
Grace waited in the doorway of the barn, stuffing her hands under her arms to keep them warm. “Looks like you’re all set. Eli comes in the morning. I’ll see that Emma’s horse is fed and cared for until we can get her home. Here’s your truck keys.”
Kevin pushed the door of the stall closed and patted the horse. “All set.” He approached her and took the keys.
“Good night.” She turned and picked up her pace toward the house, still unable to shake her nerves.
“Hold up.” With heightened awareness, she tuned into Kevin’s steady stride, fast approaching behind her. All her self-defense moves she never practiced floated to mind.
She knew she couldn’t outrun him so she spun around and squared her shoulders. “Yes?” She hiked up her chin in a show of confidence she most certainly didn’t feel.
“Would you like to go for coffee?” His expression was unreadable in the heavy shadows of the winter night.
Heat immediately pooled under the collar of her heavy coat. “No, thank you, I’m really tired.” She turned again to walk toward the house. “Maybe another time,” she quickly added, only to be polite.
Solid fingers latched on to her wrist, and Grace bit back a yelp. “No, you’re coming now.”
* * *
Conner returned to his father’s house with the piping hot pizza. He set it on top of a hot pad on the dining room table. “Pizza’s here.”
Harry lowered the footrest on the recliner and stood. “Smells great.” He gestured casually to Conner’s wet coat slung over the back of the dining room chair. “Your phone’s been ringing.”
“Oh, yeah?” Conner frowned.
Just as he slipped his hand into his coat pocket, the phone rang. He pulled it out and glanced at the display.
It was Dispatch. He slid his finger across the accept button. “Captain Gates.”
“I have Emma Hershberger. She’s anxious to talk to you.”
He recognized the name. “Does she know I’m on vacation?”
“She insisted on talking to you.”
Apprehension had Conner holding his breath. “Put her through.”
“This is Emma Hershberger. Grace wanted me to call you.” He pressed the phone closer to his ear, making sure he caught every word. “She wanted me to tell you that Kevin pulled me over. I promise, I wasn’t drinking. The deputy let me call Grace to come pick me up.”
Conner turned his back to the TV and walked toward the front of the house, focusing intently on the words spilling out of the young woman’s mouth. “When Grace got there, the deputy let me leave with the hired driver while Grace and Kevin saw that my horse and wagon got safely back to her barn. She said to call you if she didn’t call me in thirty minutes. I tried calling her myself but she didn’t answer.”
Conner listened to the long, winding tale. Not much of it made sense. One thing, however, stuck out: Grace had insisted this young lady call him. Grace must have sensed something was off.
“Did she say why she asked you to call me?” He turned and saw his father approaching out of the corner of his eye.
“She looked worried. I think she wanted you to know it was Kevin. She said make sure you tell him Kevin pulled me over.”
“Where did you last see Grace?”
“On the side of the road with Kevin, the sheriff’s officer.”
“Is there a number where I can reach you, Emma?”
She rattled off the number and told him she had an answering machine in the barn and to leave a message if she didn’t pick up.
Conner ended the call and noticed the missed calls from Grace. He listened to her message. She seemed concerned, but not overly. He tried to call her back. It rang a few times, then stopped. He hung up and dialed the sheriff’s cell phone number. When he picked up, he asked, “Did you hire Kevin Schrock pe
rhaps on a contract basis?”
“Retired Undersheriff Schrock? Um, no,” the sheriff said. “I don’t know what you’re getting at.”
“We might have a situation. I’ll call you if I find anything out.” He ended the call and explained to his father what Emma had told him. “Has Kevin ever pulled anyone over after he retired?”
“He’s not allowed to. And you can go to jail for impersonating an officer.”
He jammed one arm then the other into his damp coat sleeves. “Want to come with me? See what’s going on?”
“Absolutely.”
“Let’s go.” Conner swiped his keys from the table, tamping back his mounting fear. “Something’s not right.”
* * *
Grace tried to yank her arm away from Kevin’s tightening grip, but he was stronger. “Please let me go,” she said forcefully. “I called Conner from the truck. I’m expecting him any minute. He’ll wonder where I am.” She prayed a little white lie might derail whatever plans Kevin had. She had no idea why he was pulling her toward his truck.
“Your boyfriend won’t make it here in time.”
Her chest tightened and she tried to dig in her heels, but he was stronger. She pulled and wriggled and dropped like dead weight. She landed on her backside in the snow and scrambled backward. She’d have to get to her feet if she hoped to outrun Kevin.
“What are you doing?” he asked, his tone a mix of curiosity and disgust.
“I’m not going anywhere with you.”
He stomped toward her punching holes in the snow with his boots “I thought you wanted to know what happened to your mother.”
Grace wasn’t going to take the bait. “Leave me alone. I’m not going with you.”
His heavily shadowed face grew darker. “Now you sound just like her.”
Grace’s insides turned ice cold. She scrambled to her feet and debated if she could beat him to the house. “What do you mean, ‘I sound just like her’?”
Kevin smirked. “Oh, don’t get riled up. You know how much you look like her. It’s only natural that you’d sound like her, too.”
His words seeped into her brain. Her arms and legs trembled. There was more to their meaning than he was letting on.
