Plain Retribution

by Dana R. Lynn

  She nearly fainted from relief. Hot tears burned in her eyes. She didn’t even try to hold back the sobs. Miles had arrived. And the man shooting at them was speeding away. Blinking, she saw that the blond cop was holding his watch up to his mouth and talking fast, even as he charged toward them. Most likely telling the police where he was and what had happened.

  He took a small leap to bridge the shallow ditch and reach the girls. She launched herself at him and found herself caught up against his chest. Burying her face in his neck, she continued to shake and cry. Eventually, she became aware that he was rubbing her back in soothing circles with unsteady hands. Every few seconds, she felt him kiss her hair.

  Lifting her face, she blinked away the remainder of her tears. She needed to tell him they were fine. And to apologize for her poor judgment, which could have ended disastrously.

  She never got the chance. He kissed her the moment she looked up. The feel of his lips touching hers made everything else fade.

  The sweet kiss ended. He lifted his face away from hers, searched her face and then kissed her a second time. Her fists held on to his shirt as she breathed in his clean sent.

  Lizzy! She’d totally forgotten her sister. Breaking away, she blushed as she cut her eyes to her sister. Lizzy rolled her eyes and grinned. Shyly, Rebecca looked through her lashes at Miles.

  “Are you two hurt?” he signed. When they shook their heads, he sighed and gave Rebecca another quick hug.

  “Aren’t you going to lecture us?” Rebecca asked, wrinkling her nose.

  He quirked a grin. “You know it. When you are safely inside the house again. Never do that to me again. Promise?”

  For the first time, she noticed the shadow in his eyes. His sister had been murdered, she remembered. And here she was putting herself in danger when she knew he felt responsible for her safety. She couldn’t believe how selfish she had been. Moving up on her tiptoes, she kissed him softly. A kiss of apology.

  “I promise. I won’t put you through that again.”

  He ran his fingers down her cheek. “Let’s go. I have the local police searching for the car. But let’s not take any chances. I have a feeling that he won’t give up until we stop him.”

  Or until he finishes what he started, she thought.

  FOURTEEN

  The morning of the wedding dawned clear, although there was a definite nip in the air. Miles finished dressing for the day and went to find Rebecca. He’d tossed and turned late into the night, the image of Rebecca dragging her sister across the field while being shot at seared into his brain.

  Whether he was aware of it before or not, the killer now knew that Rebecca had Amish roots. And that she was in town for a wedding.

  Jackson had called later to let him know that the car had been found, abandoned. As expected, it had been a stolen vehicle. Jackson would be arriving soon, as would Parker. When informed of the almost tragic incident less than a mile away, Mr. Miller had agreed to allow Miles to put extra security precautions in place. Which included more police at the house during the reception.

  The problem was that the actual ceremony wouldn’t be at the Millers’ house. Miles had wanted to pull his hair out when he’d learned this little tidbit. Apparently, weddings were so much work, that the wedding often happened at a relative’s house. In this case, Mr. Miller’s brother was hosting the wedding. So all the benches they had loaded onto the tractor last night were set up at the uncle’s house.

  Jackson and Parker would be relegated to strolling the perimeter of the property. Which was fine. Miles would be at the wedding itself. They could keep the threat at bay from the outside. The officers would not be in uniform so as not to distress the guests or disturb the ceremony, but all Miles cared about was that they would be there and he would be able to protect his Rebecca.

  He stopped. His Rebecca. How he wished it was true. The kisses last night had come from the strong emotions arising from seeing her in danger. Yet he couldn’t help thinking they would have happened sooner or later.

  He needed to focus on keeping her safe. Maybe later, after all the danger had passed, he could figure out a way to meld his career and his personal desires. He refused to consider that maybe he would fail to keep her safe. But the fear lurked in shadows, and it wore Sylvie’s face, reminding him that he had failed once before.

  Enough! He had a wedding to attend and a woman to protect.

  He had decided to wear his gun after all. It was well disguised under his jacket, so none of the guests needed to even know of its presence.

  Clomping down to the kitchen, he paused at the doorway. And forgot to breathe.

  Rebecca was already there at the table. She wasn’t dressed plain. Instead, she was wearing a simple A-line dress of cobalt blue. Her shoulder-length golden blond hair was swept up into a simple bun at the back of her head and held in place by some sort of clip.

  She took his breath away.

  One of her brothers asked him a question. Which one was it? He knew her two brothers were Thomas and Joseph, both in their late teens. Problem was, they looked like twins. He answered the questions and watched as the morning wore on and guests arrived. He was pleased to note that Seth and Jess were there, not just because he liked the couple immensely, but also because he was glad that Rebecca would have other proficient signers around to keep her company. He really liked her family. They were down-to-earth, kind, generous people. But it grieved him to think of Rebecca growing up with communication barriers putting distance between her and her loved ones. Having never been to an Amish wedding, he was amazed at the magnitude of the event. Almost three hundred people were there. In a barn. The benches he had helped the men to move the night before were facing each other. The men sat on one side and the women on the other.

  As a non-Amish guest, he sat outside the barn on metal bleachers with Rebecca, Seth, Jess and the few other Englischers who were at the wedding. He had pulled the metal bleacher in as close to the barn as possible. And had gained permission to put it under a tent. That way they wouldn’t be sitting there with invisible targets on their backs. Still, he was unable to relax and enjoy the wedding. Even knowing that Parker and Jackson were both on duty, making rounds and keeping track of everything going on around them, his teeth were on edge. Every thirty seconds or so, he let his gaze drift to the trees and the outskirts of the property. The one negative thing about the tent was that even though it limited the killer’s view of them, Miles’s vision was also cut off.

  Was that a movement? Near the north end? He couldn’t be sure, but he wouldn’t relax until he knew. As discreetly as possible, he tapped out a text to the two cops roaming the grounds. Then he tapped his fingers anxiously on his knee while he waited, his body tense and ready to move. Another movement in that area and he would grab Rebecca and...

  A warm hand smoothed over on top of his. Rebecca. He drew in a deep breath.

  His watch vibrated. Finally. Jackson. He had scoured the area that Miles had indicated. There were footprints. But they were much too small to have belonged to Weller.

  That was a small relief. But he didn’t let his guard down. He was convinced that Weller was escalating his attacks. They were getting closer and deadlier, as if the man had realized he had to work fast to achieve his goal. Miles shuddered. His goal was to eliminate the woman Miles lov—

  No.

  Yes. He briefly closed his eyes. Everything he had done to stay unattached had failed. His heart belonged to the slender woman seated so peacefully at his side. He opened his eyes, and they immediately slid to Rebecca. And found her gaze on him, questioning, her forehead wrinkled in concern.

  The urge to run his hand over those lines and smooth them out did nothing to lessen his inner anguish. He couldn’t let himself give in to emotion. Not when his future, and hers, depended on it.

  But would he be able to wal
k away from her when the case was over? And say he did manage to walk away...

  The pain that hit him stole his breath. He rubbed a hand over his chest. He was in deep. And he wasn’t sure if there was anything he could do to change it.

  By the time the ceremony ended, he had a roaring headache. And a stiff neck. No doubt from the constant strain of watching in all directions for a threat to emerge. The guests emerged from the barn and started to walk toward the road. The reception would be held at the Millers’ house. Fortunately, that was only two houses down the road.

  How long would they have to stay? He was anxious to get Rebecca back to where he was more familiar with the layout. And where there weren’t so many people around. It was almost noon. Rebecca had said the reception could last for a few hours, but should break up by midafternoon.

  As they walked, a car drove up beside them. Miles moved quickly, putting himself on the outside and Rebecca closer to the edge of the road. His hand moved to his gun. The car pulled up beside them. A young man in a baseball cap. Too young to be Weller. He relaxed. The car continued on ahead of them, turning at the intersection.

  They arrived at the Miller house. He had never been so happy to see a house in his life. The yard was full of buggies, and soon the air was thick with laughter.

  Miles had a brief word with Jackson and Parker about the possible threats and hiding places for an attacker, then he returned to the reception. The feast provided by the family looked fantastic. His stomach grumbled loudly, reminding him that it had been hours since breakfast. He watched Rebecca pick at her food.

  An hour into the reception, Jackson came to find him. He moved outside to talk with his colleague, leaving Rebecca safe inside with her family.

  “We have a problem. The dogs chained up outside? It looks like they’ve been drugged. They’re breathing, and appear to be fine, but they won’t wake up. I found Benadryl tablets mixed in with their food.”

  He was here. The killer was here. “Keep searching for him. He’s here.”

  Miles made it back into the house in half the time it had taken to leave.

  His heart slammed against his ribs.

  Rebecca was gone.

  * * *

  Rebecca was getting worried. After lunch, Lizzy had left to go ask their mother something and hadn’t returned. Remembering the way the driver had gone after them in the buggy yesterday, her stomach cramped, as she worried that Lizzy was in danger. Being in the Amish community was not the haven she had thought it would be. Yesterday had proven that. And the killer was getting desperate. He didn’t even care that others were getting hurt. She remembered something that Jess had said when she’d arrived and seen Lizzy and Rebecca standing together.

  “She looks just like you, Rebecca.”

  Jess had meant it as a compliment, and had smiled as she had signed it. And Rebecca had rolled her eyes and laughed.

  She wasn’t laughing now.

  She was being targeted. And the sister that could be easily mistaken for her was outside on her own. She tried to remind herself that the whole day had gone so smoothly. And there were so many friends and relatives about. This was probably the safest place she could be.

  But no arguments would calm her nerves. The trembling hands and the agitation would not stop until she knew that Lizzy was safe and sound.

  She had to find her sister. She wished she could tell Miles, but when she had slipped out the front door, he was in an intense conversation on his phone. She had left a message with her brother Joseph to have Miles find her as soon as he was off the phone.

  He had nodded. She watched him approach the newlyweds and sighed. She had watched Levi and Laura, and realized, more than ever, that she wanted that with the man she married someday. Their communication was visible in every look and expression.

  She’d never find that in her parents’ community.

  That’s not important now—find Lizzy. Get her back inside and out of danger.

  Where had Lizzy gone?

  Rebecca had been searching for her sister for almost twenty minutes. No one seemed to have seen her. Of course, there was always the possibility that they hadn’t quite understood what she was asking. But she was fairly sure she’d gotten her point across. Her family might not all sign well, but they did all know the basics. Such as name signs.

  Mam had shaken her head then made the sign for barn. So Rebecca had walked in the direction of the barn.

  No Lizzy.

  She’d trekked through the fields behind the barn, and into the other buildings. The silo. The second barn, where the animals were kept. She’d even walked down to the neighbor’s house.

  Nothing.

  Finally, she headed home. Maybe Lizzy had shown up while she was away.

  Wait a second. She stopped. That was Lizzy’s bonnet.

  Her heart ceased beating, then took off like a freight train. Beside the bonnet, the grass and dirt were scuffed up. Almost as if her sister had been struggling with someone.

  Her chest clenched tight, cutting off air to her lungs. It felt like she was trying to breathe through a straw. Her baby sister was in the clutches of a madman!

  Calm down. You don’t know for sure what happened. But she couldn’t shake the image of her sister being dragged away, the discarded bonnet a symbol of the evil that had once again entered their lives.

  Without giving herself time to talk herself out of it, she followed the trail. Behind the outbuilding. Toward the pond.

  The pond! Was the sadistic monster planning on drowning her sweet sister?

  Miles. If Miles was here he’d know what to do. Oh, why hadn’t she waited for him to be free to come with her? Her urgency to track down her sister may have very well cost Lizzy her life.

  Rounding the corner, she gasped. Lizzy was struggling with a man in a ski mask.

  He looked smaller than before. And not as strong. Because Lizzy was holding her own. Fortunately, there wasn’t a gun in sight. There was a rather large stick on the ground. Perfect. Rebecca hefted it in her hands and grasped it like a baseball bat. Then, giving a yell that scratched her throat raw, she rushed the man holding her sister.

  He reacted immediately, dropping the Amish girl and whirling to face this new threat, his arms out to defend himself. Rebecca plowed into him, arm swinging the branch. It connected soundly with his left side. She felt the impact all the way through her. He must have felt it, too, for he doubled over.

  Rebecca became aware of others racing toward them. Miles was in the lead. Uh-oh. She’d have some explaining to do later.

  But at least both she and Lizzy would be alive for it.

  Miles reached them. Instead of the lecture she expected, he pulled her into his arms and squeezed. She could feel his heart racing through his shirt. Guess she wasn’t the only one who was scared.

  Abruptly, Miles released her and turned his police stare on the man still crouched in front of them, holding his gut. Lizzy scooted around them, giving the man a wide berth, and stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Rebecca.

  She was pale. Though her eyes were furious. Rebecca placed an arm around her and directed her toward their parents. Once she was in Mam’s arms, Rebecca moved back to where she could see Miles. And the man who had caused her such misery.

  Miles reached out and removed the ski mask. Rebecca felt as though the ground had fallen out from under her. She knew the man in front of her.

  She waved her hand, getting Miles’s attention. “I know him,” she signed when he looked her way. “That’s Wyatt. He makes deliveries to our store.”

  Miles’s expression hardened. Suddenly the young man she often thought looked too fresh-faced to be a policeman looked every inch an officer. She shivered, and chanced another look at the miserable young man before them. He certainly didn’t look like a hardened criminal. Nor could s
he imagine those thin arms reaching out and strangling her in her car...

  That was it! She knew what was missing.

  The tattoo.

  “Miles...this is not the man who attacked me before,” she signed frantically.

  “Are you sure?” he signed back. But the look on his face said he had already come to the same conclusion. They were still looking for Chad Weller.

  “Absolutely. Remember? The man who attacked me before had a tattoo on his wrist.”

  Both of them looked at Wyatt’s wrists. Neither of them sported a tattoo. Miles nodded. “Okay, but that doesn’t explain this fellow attacking your sister.” He leveled a glare at the now cringing man before them. “I need to question him. I can do it easier if I don’t sign. I will share any pertinent facts later.”

  She nodded, understanding. Police business was different.

  Reaching out, he surprised her by squeezing her hand and giving her a smile. Then he retracted his smile, and froze Wyatt with the ice in his eyes. She could see Wyatt’s Adam’s apple bob as he gulped.

  By the time Miles was finished barking questions at him, rapid-fire, Rebecca’s anger was starting to be replaced by sympathy. Wyatt seemed to be shrinking with each question that hit him.

  Finally, Miles pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and showed him. It was a picture. It looked like a driver’s license photo. A young man with longish black hair and a beard. Was that the picture he’d been sent of Chad? The brown eyes and bushy eyebrows were familiar. Had she met him before?

  Wyatt was jabbering fast, his hands gesturing wildly at the picture.

  Miles finally turned to Rebecca, disgust on his face. He switched to ASL. “He was in jail with Terry Gleason the last six months of Terry’s life. Grew to admire him. Terry told him how he’d been framed by you girls. When Wyatt was released, Chad approached him. He,” he pointed a finger at Wyatt, “agreed to help him get even. He drove the vehicle at your apartment. And he broke into your apartment and stole the picture. He’s not very loyal. He’s agreed to help the forensic artist create a more accurate image of Weller.”