by Debby Giusti
“You talk as if you were responsible for your parents’ deaths.”
“I was.” With a slap of the reins against his horse’s rump, Ezra rode off, leaving Rosie to stare after him.
He had said too much just as he was wont to do around her. He had never told anyone about the guilt he carried. He did not need to share his own pain, but somehow Rosie made him want to bare his soul and let her see the core of who he was—a man who had caused such pain. No one would ever be able to love him when they learned the truth. A self-fulfilling prophecy, the psychology books had said.
He was getting close to Rosie, too close. He needed to let her know who he really was lest she think him something he was not. Rosie deserved a good man with an unscarred past, a man who could love her unconditionally and without hesitation. Ezra was not that man.
He looked back, watching her encourage her horse forward. She had taken off her kapp and her hair had pulled free from its bun and billowed around her face and into the air as she rode. He had never seen anyone more beautiful or anyone whom he needed to avoid at all costs. He could not be attracted to Rosie or he would bring pain to her as well as to his own already broken heart.
* * *
Rosie did not understand Ezra. He shared so deeply yet when she wanted to tell him how good he really was, he rode off, not wanting praise or her words of encouragement. Perhaps he enjoyed hiding behind whatever guilt he thought he carried. Some people needed to be a victim, although Ezra did not seem like a victim. He took full responsibility for his actions and would not listen if she tried to tell him otherwise.
Ezra had not killed his parents. He had been in town, hanging out in a bar with his Englisch friends when his parents had been murdered. Perhaps that was his guilt. That he had not been home when he could have protected them, although he probably would have been killed as well.
He had poor hindsight, but she would not tell him that, lest he ride off again and leave her on the mountain. She needed to get to the nurse and find out what the pharmacy had said. She also hoped Nan would have news about Mr. Calhoun’s death.
How could anyone think Rosie was involved in a drug racket?
Her heart skipped a beat. William!
Ezra had made reference to William’s possible involvement, and she saw it all more clearly now. His frequent visits to a cabin in the woods, where he picked up packages wrapped like small boxes to be mailed. Only William did not go to the post office. Instead he would drive to distant towns to deliver the goods, as he called them.
Had the packages been filled with drugs?
She shivered with the realization. No wonder the nursing-home manager suspected her. Will’s involvement was probably common knowledge around town or with law enforcement. She had been right not to go to the police. They would arrest her and throw her into jail.
Ezra pulled his horse to a stop and waited for Rosie.
“Nan’s home is over that rise,” he said. “The police want to question you, Rosie. We do not want anyone calling law enforcement about two Amish people on horseback in the area. We might be smart to weave our way through the dense wooded area and leave our horses behind the house, then we could cross Nan’s backyard and arrive, hopefully unnoticed, at her house.”
“That is a good plan, Ezra. I will follow you.”
He guided his horse along a narrow path that led to the bottom of the incline. Rosie stayed close behind him. Once at the bottom of the hill, Ezra encouraged Duke into the wooded area.
“We are probably being overly cautious,” Rosie whispered, although she appreciated Ezra’s desire to keep her safe. Seeing Nan’s house, she pulled up on the reins and slipped from the saddle.
“What are you doing?” Ezra asked.
“I am heading to my friend’s house, knocking on the door and staying long enough to learn what she has uncovered. I do not like being a sly cat who sneaks around.”
Ezra climbed down from his horse and tied the reins to a nearby tree. He looked at her and held out his hand. “We will go together.”
She slipped her hand into his, feeling the strength of his grip. They stepped into the cleared area behind Nan’s house and hurried toward her back door. The bell worked but no one answered.
“Perhaps she is still at work,” Rosie said.
“We are a little later than we were before,” Ezra said. “She might be asleep.”
Rosie rapped again on the door, and when no one answered, she pointed to the side of the house. “Nan said she can see the town lights from her bedroom window, which means it is located on that side of the house.”
Together, they rounded the corner. Holding her hands around her eyes to cut down on the glare, Rosie peered through the window, grateful the blinds were partially open.
Her heart lurched. Nan lay strewn over the bed, her arms splayed, her red hair disheveled.
Rosie pounded on the window. “Nan, it is Rosie. Wake up.”
Ezra stepped closer and looked through the glass.
“Something is wrong.” He pulled Rosie to the back of the house. “I will ask the neighbor to call an ambulance.”
Tears stung Rosie eyes. “I fear something terrible has happened. Along with the ambulance, they need to call the police.”
* * *
Sirens sounded in the distance. Ezra turned to glance into the underbrush, where Rosie waited with the horses. The neighbor stood on the street to flag down the ambulance.
Ezra did not have a good feeling about what the EMTs would find. Nan had not moved since he and Rosie had first looked through the window.
Again, he glanced at the wooded area, relieved Rosie was hidden from view. The police did not need anything additional to cause them to question her involvement in what now looked like a death investigation.
The shrill squeal of the siren neared. A police sedan turned the corner, followed by an ambulance. Both braked to a stop in front of the house.
Ezra hurried back to the wooded area where Rosie waited. Her face was pale, her mouth drawn. He squeezed her hand, hoping to provide support.
Two policemen sprang from the car. They spoke briefly to the woman on the sidewalk and then hurried to the front door. Finding it locked, they rounded to the rear, tried that door and then broke one of the side windowpanes and unlocked the door through the opening.
The police disappeared inside. Some moments later the front door opened and they beckoned to the EMTs.
Rosie stepped closer to Ezra, as if needing his reassurance. He put his arm around her shoulders. “I fear the outcome will not be good.”
“They killed her, Ezra, because she was asking questions about the missing drugs. They probably killed Mr. Calhoun, too, although I do not know what he did to them. Maybe he questioned the missing medication and why he was not getting anything for his pain.”
“Who are you including in the guilty?”
“The manager of the nursing home must be involved, and I saw Larry Wagner in his office the day I was fired. They fired me, thinking I was snooping around too much.”
“Yet the manager let you go home.”
“Mr. Wagner came to my house that night, but my parents stopped him.”
“Wagner planned to apprehend you on the road, Rosie. He had damaged your bike and thought you would travel to town on foot.”
“If only we knew what William was supposed to have given me.”
The EMTs emerged from the house, pushing a stretcher. Nan’s body was covered with a blanket.
Ezra wrapped his arm around Rosie’s shoulders and felt her flinch. She turned away, no doubt, unwilling to watch her friend being placed in the ambulance.
The police questioned the neighbor and then stretched yellow police tape around Nan’s house before they went to the other houses on the street gathering information.
“They are talking to the neighbors in case a
nyone heard or saw anything,” Ezra said.
He ushered Rosie closer to Duchess. “You need to go back to my house. Wait there. I will try to find out more information.”
She grabbed his hand. “You cannot stay, Ezra. They will suspect you. The neighbor has probably already told them about the Amish man who knocked on Nan’s door.”
“I told her that the nurse had hired me to build bookshelves for her living area. It is not unusual for Amish craftsmen to take jobs with the Englisch.”
“But the police will take you to their headquarters for questioning.”
“I will wait until the police leave. Go now, Rosie. Joseph needs you. Tell Susan I will be home later.”
“Oh, Ezra—”
He placed the reins in her hand and hoisted her onto the saddle.
“I do not want to leave you,” she said reluctantly before she encouraged Duchess forward through the thicket.
“Keep Rosie safe, Gott,” Ezra murmured as he watched her find the path and head toward the mountain. She was well-protected within the forested area, and he doubted the police would notice the slight movement he saw as the horse hurried over the crest of the hill.
Turning his gaze to the street, he watched the police head back to Nan’s house. One of the officers remained stationed at the front door. The other drove away in the squad car.
The neighbor with whom Ezra had spoken earlier stepped onto her back patio carrying a broom and started sweeping.
Ezra approached her, hat in hand. “Ma’am, I had to tend to my horse, but I saw you talking to the police. Do you know anything about Ms. Smith?”
“The EMTs said she overdosed. They found pills at her bedside.” The woman shook her head as if unable to understand what had happened. “The pills were from the nursing home where she worked. Evidently she had been stealing drugs from the patients.”
She glanced again at Ezra. “Perhaps you should talk to the police. One of them is still at the house. Do you want me to call him?”
Ezra held up his hand. “That will not be necessary. I will stop at the police station in town and talk to them there.”
She nodded, as if satisfied. “It’s terrible. Such a shame. You just never know about your neighbors.”
The woman turned back to her house, and Ezra slipped into the woods and quickly rode up the hill.
The mountain used to be a peaceful place without crime. Once he started to associate with the Englisch everything changed.
He should have warned Rosie about Will MacIntosh, when he first saw them together. Had it been his pride or his upset that she was interested in another man when she had paid so little attention to him?
Perhaps he had been upset with her, but he should also have been upset with himself. They had both made mistakes, but neither of them were murderers or involved in a drug racket. Yet they were both being pulled into the corruption that was happening in the area.
Neither of them knew anyone who could help change this terrible situation. Not the police, not the Amish community and not the townspeople who thought the nursing-home manager was an upstanding citizen. No one would believe the Amish if they accused the good citizens of wrongdoing.
Ezra and Rosie needed to find evidence they could take to the sheriff in Willkommen to solve this tangled case involving prescription drugs. If only Will had given Rosie information, they could use that now to substantiate what they had learned.
If only, Ezra thought again.
THIRTEEN
Rosie could hardly see the path as the tears fell. She was responsible for Nan’s death. The nurse had always reached out to her with kindness, yet Rosie had alerted Nan to Mr. Calhoun’s pain the night he had died and had asked Nan to give him the needed pain medication. The medication, Nan all too soon realized, was missing.
Rosie tried to put the pieces together, but none of them fit. It was all so confusing. Why was she in the middle of the problem? Had Will, in some way, set her up to be a target? Did it involve whatever he was supposed to have given her? All that was wrong about their relationship was coming back to haunt her now.
If she was in danger, Joseph was as well.
She thought of Ezra’s family and the innocent children. What would happen to them if the man in the white SUV stopped at their house? Would little Mary with her wide eyes and forthright nature divulge that a woman and baby were staying at their house, which would put all of them in danger? Rosie’s heart ached for what could happen.
She had to leave to ensure the children were kept safe. She would take the Amish taxi to the bus station once she learned where Katherine’s daughter lived.
Money would be a problem. She had saved a little from her paychecks and had hidden it in the quilt, along with the toy Will had given her for their baby. Hopefully the cash would be enough for a bus ticket, but she would arrive in Ohio with nothing extra.
A fork in the path appeared in the distance. To the right would take her to Ezra’s house. If she went left, surely it would lead to her aunt’s home.
Stopping at Katherine’s house would not take long. Susan had assured Rosie that she would take care of Joseph. Ezra would be at Nan’s house for some time.
She tapped her heels against the horse’s flank and turned him onto the other path, the one that headed, hopefully, to Katherine’s house.
Rosie would be careful and watchful. She did not want another encounter with the man in the white SUV.
The trail meandered downhill. Duchess picked her way along the rocky path. Something slithered out from under a boulder. Rosie’s heart lurched when she saw the snake.
The mare spooked and increased her speed. Rosie tried to hold Duchess back, but the mare refused to respond to the tug on the reins.
Duchess’s trot turned to a gallop. The wind whipped at Rosie’s cape and pulled at her bun.
“Oh,” she groaned as the path became steeper. The horse was galloping far too fast for the treacherous terrain. Rosie should have taken the other path, the one she knew.
Once she had made sure Joseph was all right, she could have walked to Katherine’s house. It would have taken more time, but at least she would not be hurling down a hillside so fast...too fast.
She pulled on the reins, hard. The mare eased up a bit and then increased her pace again.
“Oh, please,” Rosie called out, not knowing what to do.
A slight rise appeared on the path ahead. The house would not be far. In the distance, Rosie saw the barn where she had hidden with the buggy yesterday and felt a swell of relief. Surely the mare would come to a stop near the structure. But the horse continued at breakneck speed. A fence appeared ahead. Instead of going around the obstacle, Duchess headed straight for it, and at the last possible moment, jumped over the barrier.
Rosie screamed. The reins slipped from her hands. She reached for the saddle horn but ended up grabbing air. The mare came down hard. Rosie slipped right. Her leg left the stirrup and without anything to hold her back, she fell.
“Oof!” Rosie landed on her side, her hand thankfully breaking her fall. Her hip ached. Dazed, she watched the mare gallop off.
So much for riding back to Ezra’s house. She rubbed her head and pulled herself upright. A wave of vertigo fluttered over her. She felt her arms and legs, ensuring nothing was broken. Relieved that her limbs were intact, she tried to stand. The path swirled in front of her. She regained her balance, stepped gingerly forward with one foot and moaned. Sharp pain radiated from her ankle.
Katherine’s house was not far. If she could hobble there, then perhaps she could take her aunt’s buggy to Ezra’s house. She felt sure he would return the buggy later in the day.
She exhaled with frustration, imagining his upset when he found out she had taken the other path, the one that led away from his house. Once again her own stubbornness had caused problems. For herself and for Ezra.
/> A dull ache started in her head. She rubbed her forehead, hoping to relieve the pressure that had built up there, and limped past the old, dilapidated barn to the newer one located near the house. The barn doors were open. Rosie peered inside as she passed, thinking her aunt might be working there, but the barn was empty and the buggy was gone.
Her heart plummeted. Katherine must have taken the buggy to town or she might be spending the day with friends. She could be anywhere instead of where Rosie had hoped she would be.
Standing just outside the barn, Rosie glanced down the valley, knowing she would have to walk back to Ezra’s house. The trip would not be pleasant or speedy with her aching leg.
So much for her good idea. Another mistake that she could add to the list, if she was making a list. Although she would rather not put anything in writing that would show her ineptitude.
She placed her hands on her hips and sighed. A stiff wind blew her long hair into her face. Plus, she had lost her kapp.
Totally flummoxed and upset, she swallowed down the lump in her throat and brushed away the new rush of tears. She was becoming much too emotional.
Limping along the path, she heard a sound from the road below and turned. She blinked away the tears as her heart pounded a warning. A car was coming up the hill. A white SUV.
The man with the swatch of white hair. Larry Wagner.
Her blood chilled. She looked at the steep incline she would have to navigate to get to the path and how much farther it was to the wooded area, where she could hide.
Surely Katherine had locked her door. A few years back that was not the case and the Amish would not have secured their homes, but recently, as Rosie was all too aware, crime had come to the mountain and the Amish had started to secure their homes and their property. Except the barn was open.
Rosie headed there. She stepped inside and closed the large door behind her just as the sound of the engine announced the man had turned into the drive.
