Undercover Amish

by Debby Giusti

  He’d said too much. “There was a time before the inn, but I’m happy here in the mountains.”

  “And the life you lived before?” she asked.

  “It’s over. Let’s leave it at that.”

  Lucas was grateful she didn’t press him for more information. Some things needed to remain in the past, back in Savannah, on that dock.

  TEN

  Lucas’s comments added anxiety to Hannah’s already unsettled day. She didn’t like to discuss her past or her estranged relationship with Miriam. The pain of what she had learned the night she’d left her family in Knoxville remained an open wound she feared would never heal.

  Her mother’s caustic words still stung. Miriam and Sarah had returned home long after their mother had become enraged and hadn’t realized what had transpired. Maybe that was a blessing.

  Hot tears burned Hannah’s eyes as she recalled her mother’s accusation. “You’re just like your father. He was a thief and so are you. I’m reporting you to the police.”

  “There’s the turnoff to the Glick farm,” Lucas said, interrupting her thoughts and bringing her back to the present.

  She brushed her hand across her cheeks. Lucas, with his big heart and willingness to help, wouldn’t understand her mother’s assertion or the legacy that came with being her father’s child.

  Seemingly unaware of her upset, Lucas guided Daisy into the turn. The buggy jostled over the narrow dirt road. Holding on to steady herself, Hannah studied the farmland that stretched on each side of the roadway and the fallow fields waiting for spring planting. Surely Mr. Glick would be tending them soon.

  The farmhouse appeared in the distance, a two-story, typical Amish structure in need of paint. Chickens plucked at the weeds in the side yard. A few head of cattle grazed on a distant pasture and a pair of horses stared at the buggy as it turned onto the gravel drive.

  A barn, woodshed and outhouse sat at the rear of the main structure. A spindly tree, barren of leaves, grew near the house and would, undoubtedly, provide little shade in summer.

  A child’s face peered from the window. A little girl. Evidently Rosie Glick had a younger sister.

  Lucas pulled up on the reins and turned to Hannah as the buggy stopped. “The Glicks have probably been inundated with police asking more questions than they would want to answer. They may have had their privacy interrupted by newsmen seeking a story, especially after your mother’s death and your sisters’ kidnappings were thought to be connected to their daughter’s disappearance.”

  “You’re saying we may not be welcome.”

  “I’m saying let’s see what happens and go with the flow. I’ll take the lead. You follow.”

  “You’re sounding like a cop, and they happen to be my least favorite people.”

  His brow rose.

  Again she’d said too much. “Nothing personal.”

  “Right. Sounds like you’ve had a problem with law enforcement in the past?”

  She nodded. “Leaving rental properties when our mother couldn’t pay the rent made our family cautious around anyone in uniform.”

  “Tough way to live as a kid,” he said, climbing down from the buggy.

  “Some folks have it worse.”

  He nodded. “You’re right.”

  A cold wind blew from the mountain and made her shiver. She adjusted the cape and was grateful for Lucas’s strong arms when he helped her down.

  She glanced at the house.

  Was anyone home? The child had disappeared. Or had she been a figment of Hannah’s imagination?

  The girl had reminded her of Sarah when she was four years old and left alone too often when Miriam and Hannah were at school and their mother had to work. Hannah should have done more to protect her sister.

  Now Sarah was gone.

  Hannah’s heart weighed heavy as she and Lucas climbed the steps to the front porch. He moved in front of her and knocked on the door.

  He rapped again and then turned to study the fields and pastures. His gaze brightened. He tapped her arm and pointed. “Someone’s coming from the field.”

  She turned to see a man dressed in the Amish waistcoat and black felt hat.

  Lucas left the porch and met him in the drive. Hannah followed then stepped back a few feet, unsure if she would be welcomed. At least Lucas looked the part, whether he was true Amish or not.

  Glancing down at the blue calf-length dress and black cape, she realized her mistake. She looked Amish, as well.

  “Yah?” The farmer eyed Lucas and ignored Hannah. Perhaps women were to be seen and not heard, just like the children, as Lucas had mentioned.

  He extended his hand. The farmer hesitated and then accepted the handshake.

  “I’m Lucas Grant. I work for Fannie Stoltz at the Amish Inn. She sends her greetings.”

  “I do not know your face.”

  Lucas nodded as if understanding the farmer’s confusion. “I have not lived long in the mountains. Fannie has given me a job and the community has accepted me, for which I am grateful.”

  “You are here for a reason?”

  Hannah appreciated the Amish’s way to cut to the chase. They didn’t waste time on idle chitchat.

  Lucas motioned Hannah forward. “I am here with Hannah Miller. Her mother was killed on the mountain two months ago. Her sisters were kidnapped. Perhaps you have heard of this?”

  The farmer’s expression never changed.

  “There is speculation,” Lucas continued, “that your daughter’s disappearance could be tied to what happened to the Miller family.”

  Mr. Glick pursed his lips. “I have already talked to the police.”

  “Yes, sir. I’m sure you have, but the police will not share the information with us. You can understand Hannah’s concern and her desire to learn more about what happened to her sisters.”

  Mr. Glick blinked but refused to respond.

  “Could you tell us about the young man Rosie was seeing?”

  The farmer’s gaze darkened. “I do not need to talk about my daughter. Talking will not bring her back.”

  “Sir, she may have been involved with the same people who captured Hannah’s sister. If so, the women may be together. The more we can learn about what happened to Rosie, the better able we’ll be to find both of them.”

  “Rosie is gone.” The father’s voice was devoid of inflection.

  “You probably think she left of her own volitions, of her own choice, but that might not be the case, sir. Rosie could have been kidnapped. If so, we need to find her.”

  The door to the house opened and a woman stepped onto the front porch. Her brown dress hung loose over her bony shoulders. Her face was drawn tight and a kerchief covered her head and tied under her chin.

  “Tell them, Wayne. Rosie was a good girl. She would not leave without telling me where she was going.”

  The husband did not respond to his wife’s plea.

  “I told you of my dream,” she pressed.

  He stared at his wife. “We do not believe in dreams, Emma.”

  “And what of scripture? Has not Gott worked through dreams?”

  “He does not work in that way today.”

  Hannah stepped forward, hearing the pain in the woman’s voice. “Mrs. Glick, I believe in dreams.”

  A flicker of hope washed over the woman’s face. “I saw her. I saw Rosie. She was crying for me to find her.”

  Hannah glanced at Mr. Glick. “Sir, if we can track the boyfriend, we might be able to find your daughter.”

  Glick’s eyes narrowed. “The police have not found her.”

  “The police initially thought she had run off with Will MacIntosh,” Hannah tried to explain. “I doubt they put much effort into the investigation.”

&n
bsp; “Yah, it is only when the Englischer women are attacked that they think about the needs of my daughter.”

  Mr. Glick’s comment had merit.

  Lucas stepped closer. “I don’t know how the police operate here, but I do know that the sheriff has been in the hospital with a gunshot wound and the sheriff’s office is staffed by an older deputy and a few new hires. The deputies may have tried their best, but their best might not be good enough.”

  “Tell them.” Mrs. Glick moved toward her husband and grabbed his arm. “Tell them about the man.”

  Mr. Glick swallowed as if the words were stuck in his throat. “Rosie was a good girl. One day I found her wearing a necklace of shiny beads. She did not think I had seen them, and she tried to tuck them into her dress. The boy had given them to her.”

  “Will MacIntosh?”

  He nodded.

  “Will lived on the county road not far from here. The police said she had run off with him. The neighbors said they had seen them together. He lived alone and worked at the lodge.”

  “What happened to him?”

  “I went to his trailer. His things were still there, but he was gone. I found the beads he had given Rosie broken on the ground outside. They had hurried away and had not taken time to pack. He lived over the county line in Petersville. The police there did not think anything of them leaving. I told them Rosie was a good daughter who would not do such a thing, but they told me I was naive and did not realize how a teen would want something other than the Amish way.”

  “What about the sheriff in Willkommen?” Lucas asked.

  “He was more interested, but he said it wasn’t his jurisdiction.”

  Hannah had thought the father unfeeling at first, but she caught a glimpse of the pain he carried.

  “I do not understand,” Glick continued. “A sheriff who would not search for a girl no matter who was in charge of the investigation.”

  Lucas nodded. “Once the sheriff is released from rehab, I’ll see what he has to say. Perhaps one of his deputies will talk to you again.”

  Mr. Glick shook his head. “I do not wish to talk to anyone.”

  He took his wife’s arm. “Come, Emma. We must go inside.”

  “But, Wayne.”

  He motioned her forward. She glanced at Hannah, pain written on her face. Then, like a dutiful wife, she followed her husband up the steps. He entered the house. Mrs. Glick hesitated for a moment and then glanced at them over her shoulder.

  “Find Rosie,” she said, her voice almost a whisper. “Find my daughter.”

  * * *

  Mr. Glick’s reaction troubled Lucas. He had, no doubt, been questioned too many times already and saw no point in revealing facts about his daughter to anyone again. The pain both parents felt had to be heart-wrenching.

  Mrs. Glick’s desire to obey her husband, as was the Amish way, seemed to conflict with her heart that had to be broken.

  “I wonder if Mrs. Glick knows more than she was willing to share,” Lucas said as Daisy pulled the buggy onto the dirt road and headed toward the paved blacktop.

  “Information her husband didn’t want her to share.” Hannah shook her head with regret. “Why are Amish men so insensitive to their wives’ feelings?”

  “It might seem that way, especially today, but remember Mr. Glick is trying to protect his daughter’s reputation and his family’s privacy. He’s been interrogated by the Petersville police. Their tactics may have been cold and callous, and even more so, considering the circumstances. Then if he repeated everything to the Willkommen sheriff without any good coming from either branch of law enforcement, he may have lost trust in the Englisch ways.”

  Hannah nodded. “When you say it like that, I can almost see his point and take his side. Yet nothing can be done if we don’t know more about the young man who showed an interest in their daughter.”

  “Deputy Gainz provided directions to the county road, and Mr. Glick mentioned that MacIntosh lived in a trailer. When I first moved here, I took my buggy over most of this area to get to know the terrain, including the county road. I seem to recall seeing a few trailers.”

  He glanced at Hannah to make certain she would agree to his plan. “We could look for a mailbox that might bear the kid’s last name. MacIntosh isn’t common around these parts. Most surnames are either German or Amish. A Scottish name might stand out or be remembered by one of the neighbors.”

  “It’s worth a try.”

  He nodded. “The county road isn’t far.”

  In less time than Lucas had expected, the sign for the road appeared on the left. “The turnoff’s less than two miles from the Glick farm,” he noted. “An easy walk, especially for an Amish girl used to hoofing it around the county.”

  “Did I tell you that I don’t like this guy, whoever he is?”

  Lucas nodded in agreement. “I don’t like anyone who preys on women.”

  A small clapboard house sat back from the road. Lucas slowed as they passed the mailbox. “Koenig means ‘king’ in German,” Lucas said, referring to the name stenciled on the box.

  “A far cry from MacIntosh.”

  Continuing on, they passed a number of houses without names on the mailboxes.

  Lucas was starting to feel discouraged. “We’ll go a bit farther and then turn around.”

  “There.” Hannah pointed to the right. “Behind the white house. It looks like a trailer sits back from the main structure. Let’s check the mailboxes and see if we can find a name.”

  Pulling Daisy to a stop, Lucas peered at the two mailboxes and felt a sense of relief when he spied MacIntosh written on one of the boxes with what appeared to be a wide-tipped Sharpie. Someone had painted over the marker with a thin coat of white paint that failed to completely cover the ink.

  “I think we’ve found Mr. MacIntosh’s home.”

  Lucas pulled onto the dirt drive and slowly headed past the small house. A muscular dog with Rottweiler markings barked from the front porch.

  “So much for trying to go unnoticed,” Lucas grumbled.

  A hand-painted sign was nailed to a tree: Trailer for Rent. Lucas turned the buggy onto the narrow path that angled toward the trailer.

  Hannah glanced back at the house. “I hope the homeowner doesn’t think we’re trespassing.”

  “We’ll say we’re interested in renting.”

  Lucas pulled Daisy to a stop in front of the trailer. “Might be safer if you stay in the buggy.”

  She shook her head. “I’m going with you.” She climbed down and hurried to join him as he neared the door.

  Again she flicked her gaze back at the clapboard house. “I’m worried, Lucas.”

  He understood her concern. “I didn’t see a No Trespassing sign. Remember we’re here in hopes of renting the trailer.”

  A cobweb stretched across the front door. “Doesn’t look like anyone’s been here for some time.”

  He wiped the web away and knocked on the door. Hearing no one inside, he grabbed the door handle, expecting it to be locked.

  The door opened.

  “People in the country often forget the importance of security.” He held up his hand. “Wait here, Hannah.”

  She grabbed his arm. “I’m not leaving your sight.”

  She was frightened, at least somewhat.

  “Isn’t it against the law to break and enter a private property?” She rubbed her hands over her arms and glanced again over her shoulder.

  “That’s a question for law enforcement,” he answered, once again thankful she didn’t know about his past.

  He climbed the few stairs into the trailer and was surrounded by stale air and more cobwebs. A roach scurried underfoot. “Watch out for critters.”

  “Meaning—”

  “Meaning any
thing could have taken up residence here.”

  He glanced at the small table and bench seats. A magazine was tossed open to one side. Lucas flipped it over, noting the name on the mailing label. William MacIntosh.

  “Let’s see if we can find anything the police failed to uncover.” Lucas glanced around the cramped space. “If they even did a search.”

  While Hannah peered into the bathroom, Lucas entered the bedroom. A blanket and top sheet were strewed across the thin mattress. He walked around the bed and leaned down. Using a tissue he pulled from a box on the small side table, he lifted a white ribbon from the floor.

  “One of the ties on an Amish bonnet?” she asked from the hallway.

  “Maybe.” He folded the tissue around the ribbon and tucked it inside his shirt.

  “Anything in the bathroom?”

  Hannah shook her head. “Nothing I could find.”

  Lucas glanced at the commode, sink and shower before opening the kitchen drawers and cabinets. He rustled through the odds and ends, none of which provided clues to either William MacIntosh or his Amish girlfriend.

  He opened the refrigerator. A half gallon of what must have been milk sat on the top shelf filled with a black rotting mass of bacteria. He checked the vegetable bin and freezer and then closed the door and turned aside to pull in a lungful of air.

  Once they had searched the rest of the trailer, he motioned to Hannah. “Let’s get going.”

  Pushing open the narrow front door, he blew out a stiff breath. His pulse raced and his gut tightened as he stared down the barrel of what appeared to be a Remington .308 rifle.

  Leaving his own rifle in the buggy had been his first mistake. Placing Hannah in danger followed a close second.

  “Hands in the air,” the burly guy behind the rifle demanded. “Nice and slow. The rifle’s loaded and, in case you didn’t notice, my finger is on the trigger. Now step outside and don’t try anything funny.”

  “I’m so sorry, sir.” Hannah smiled sweetly as she followed Lucas out of the trailer, acting completely unfazed by the man or his weapon. “We are new to the area and need a place to live. I saw your sign about a trailer for rent.” Her voice dripped with sincerity.