Undercover Amish (Covert Police Detectives Unit Series Book 1)

by Ashley Emma

  She told herself to act normal, even if he did suspect something. “I’m well. How are you?” She reached for a fallen box of cereal. Her purple sleeve rode up her arm, revealing a dark bruise. She took in a quick, sharp breath and yanked her sleeve down, turning away in shame.

  Had he seen it?

  Isaac rested his fingers on her arm. “Liv, be honest. Is Jake hurting you? Or did you ‘walk into a door’ again? You know I don’t believe that nonsense. I’ve known Jake since we were children, and I know how angry he can get. And I know you might be silly sometimes, but you aren’t that clumsy.”

  She sure wasn’t silly anymore. Her silliness had also died the day she married Jake.

  Olivia stared at Isaac wide-eyed, unable to breathe. He did know the truth about Jake. Her pulse quickened as the grocery store seemed to shrink around her, closing her in. Who else knew?

  “You don’t deserve this, Liv.”

  What would Jake do to her if he found out Isaac knew?

  “Isaac…promise me you won’t say anything. If you do, he will hurt me terribly. Maybe even—”

  “Olivia! Are you okay?” Jake strode over to them. He helped her up in what seemed like a loving way, and no one else noticed his clenching grip on her arm.

  Except Isaac. His eyes grew cold as his jaw tightened.

  He knew.

  Oh, God, please don’t let him say anything.

  No one would believe him even if he did. Jake was known for being a polite, helpful person. He was the kind of man who would help anyone at any time, even in the middle of the night or in a storm. No one would ever suspect him of hitting his wife.

  He hid that side of him skillfully, with his mask of deceptive charm that had made her fall in love with him so quickly.

  Jake finished piling the groceries into the basket as Isaac stood.

  “Good to see you, Isaac.” Jake nodded to his former childhood friend.

  “Likewise. Take care.” Isaac offered a big smile as though nothing had happened.

  When Liv glanced over her shoulder at him as she and Jake walked away, Isaac stared back at her, concern lining every feature of his face.

  Most of the buggy ride home was nerve-wracking silence. They passed the green fields of summertime in Unity, Maine. Horses and cows grazed in the sunlight and Amish children played in the front yards. Normally she would have enjoyed watching them, but Olivia squeezed her eyes shut. She mentally braced herself for whatever storm raged in Jake’s mind that he would soon unleash onto her.

  “Want to tell me what happened back there?”

  Jake’s voice was not loud, but she could tell by his tone that he was infuriated. Who knew what awaited her at home?

  “I bumped into Isaac and spilled my groceries. He was just helping me pick them up,” she answered in a cool, calm voice. She clasped her hands together in her lap to stop them from shaking, acting as though everything was fine. Their buggy jostled along the side of the road as cars passed.

  Did he know what had really happened?

  “I was watching from a distance. I saw him touch your arm. I saw the way he smiled at you. And I saw the way you stared at him. You never look at me like that.”

  Here we go. She sucked in a deep breath, preparing for battle. At least he hadn’t heard what Isaac had asked her. Jake was always accusing her of being interested in other men, but it was never true. He was paranoid and insecure.

  “You know I love you, Jake.”

  “I know. But did you ever truly let go of Isaac before you married me? Does part of you still miss him?”

  “No, of course not! You have all my love.”

  “Then why don’t you act like it?” His knuckles turned white as he clenched his fists tighter around the reins. “Why don’t you ever look at me like that?”

  How could he expect her to shower him with love? She tried, but it was so hard to endure his rampages and live up to his impossible standards. Yes, she had married him and would stay true to her vows. She would remain by his side as his wife until death.

  However soon that may be. Every time he had one of his rampages she feared for her life more and more.

  She had given up on romance a long time ago. Now she just tried to survive.

  If only her parents were still alive… but they had been killed along with the rest of her family in a fire when she had been a teenager. How many times had Liv wished that she could confide in her mother about Jake? She would have known what to do.

  “I’m sorry, Jake. I’ll try to do better.” She told him what he wanted to hear.

  “Good.” Smugness covered his face as he glanced at her and sat up a bit taller.

  When they arrived home, he helped her unload the groceries without saying a word. She knew what was coming. He internalized all his anger, and one small thing would send him over the edge once they were behind closed doors.

  When everything was put away, he stalked off to the living room to wait as she prepared dinner. She began chopping vegetables, and not even ten minutes had passed when he stomped into the kitchen. As he startled her, the knife fell on the countertop.

  Jake snarled through clenched teeth, crossing the room in three long strides. “You love him, don’t you?”

  “No, Jake! I told you I don’t love him. I love you.” She struggled to keep her voice steady. They had had this fight more than once.

  “Are you secretly seeing each other?”

  She spun around to face him. “No! I would never do that.” She might wonder sometimes what her life would have been like if she had married Isaac, but that didn’t mean she loved him or had feelings for him, and it certainly didn’t mean she would have an affair with him. Happy or not, she was a married Amish woman and would never be unfaithful to her husband.

  “I can see it all over your face. It’s true. You are seeing him.” He lunged toward her, pinning her against the countertop.

  She tried to shield her face with her hands. The familiar feeling of overwhelming panic filled her. Her heart pounded as she anticipated what was coming. “No, that’s not true!”

  “After everything I’ve given you!” His eyes burned with an angry fire stronger than she had ever seen before. He raised his clenched fist and swung.

  Pain exploded in her skull. Her head snapped back from the impact. Before she could recover, he wrapped his hands around her neck, squeezing harder and harder until her feet lifted off the floor.

  She clawed at his hands, but he only clenched tighter. Her lungs and throat burned, her body screamed for oxygen.

  This was it. She was going to die. She was sure of it.

  A strange calm settled over her, and her eyes fluttered shut. It was better this way. Where she was going would be paradise instead of this hell she lived in.

  Her eyes snapped open.

  No. Not today. For the first time in her life, she had to fight back.

  She tried to punch him, but it was as if he didn’t feel a thing. She tried to scream for help, but her vocal chords were being crushed. She reached behind her for anything to hit him in the head with. Her fingers fumbled with something sharp, and it cut her hand. But she ignored the pain.

  The knife.

  She gripped the handle. Before she could reconsider, she thrust the knife as hard as she could into the side of his neck.

  Blood spurted from the wound as his grip loosened. His eyes widened in shock and his knees gave out as he crumpled to the floor.

  “What have I done?” She inhaled shaky breaths, struggling to get air back into her lungs. Tears stung her eyes. Bile crept up her throat, and she clamped a hand over her mouth. Panic and fear washed over her and settled in her gut.

  She had stabbed her own husband.

  A sob shook her chest. “Oh, dear Lord! Please be with me.”

  There was so much blood. Her stomach churned and her ears rang. Her head was weightless, and her vision tunneled into blackness. She slid against the handmade wooden cabinets to sit on the floor.

 
She should run to the phone shanty and call an ambulance, but she couldn’t move. There was no way she could run or even walk all the way to the shanty without passing out. She would have gone next door to her aunt and uncle’s house, but they were out of town.

  As her vision tunneled, she wasn’t sure if she was possibly losing consciousness or dying from being choked.

  Either way, she was free.

  Chapter Two

  Six years later

  “Jeff! Run the other way!” Olivia shouted as she sprinted around the side of a broken-down house in Augusta, Maine. Her partner, Officer Jefferson Martin, bolted around the opposite side of the house, hoping to catch the culprit, who had just run to the other side. Maybe they could meet him in the middle and the criminal would be trapped in the fenced-in yard.

  When Olivia thought of the young girl this man had kidnapped, she pushed herself even faster, her hair flying behind her. She reached the corner of the house, lifted her pistol, and swept the area. The perpetrator swung a rusty crowbar at her head. She ducked just in time to dodge it.

  It thudded into the house right beside her face. She whipped around and shoved him up against the wall. “Nice try.”

  He struggled in her grasp, but she held onto him tightly as her partner rounded the corner and helped hold him down. When the perp would not stop wriggling and shouting protests, Jeff pinned him to the ground and handcuffed him. “George Burke, you are under arrest for kidnapping. You have the right to remain silent…”

  Jeff finished reciting Burke’s rights to him as he led him to the police car and shut the criminal inside. Jeff questioned him about where the girl was, but the man remained silent.

  “You think the girl is in there?” Olivia asked her partner, nodding toward the shabby house.

  “Maybe, since he bolted out the back door when we pulled in the driveway. Let’s go check it out.”

  A second patrol car arrived as backup and guarded the criminal while Olivia and Jeff entered the house, weapons drawn.

  “Not exactly a home fit for being in an interior decorating magazine.” Olivia wrinkled her nose at the piles of dirty dishes in the kitchen, the messy floors, the questionable smells. In the laundry room, baskets of clothes covered the top of the washing machine. She held up her M&P Shield as she poked her head around the corner. “Clear.”

  “Clear in the living room,” Jeff called.

  “Let’s check the basement.”

  They approached the door, and he quickly pulled it open. “Anybody down there? Police!”

  No response. The partners glanced at each other, nodded, and descended the stairs, looking carefully for any sign of life or movement.

  They poked around for about ten minutes, looking for some clue to where they could find Miranda Nelson, the little girl Burke kidnapped. They had evidence he had taken her, but they didn’t know where he was keeping her.

  “Hey, wasn’t there a washing machine upstairs?” Olivia raised an eyebrow at the beat-up appliance placed crookedly against a wall.

  “Yeah, there was.”

  “This one is just taking up space. I know this guy isn’t very tidy, but why have two washing machines, especially when one looks like that? This might be nothing, but I have a weird feeling about it.” Liv walked over to it and looked behind it. “There’s something back here.”

  Jeff hurried over and helped her move it aside to reveal a small door in the floor. Olivia reached down and flung it open. “Miranda? We’re the police. Are you down there?” She reached for the flashlight on her belt.

  A soft whimper sounded in the darkness. While Jeff called the paramedics, Olivia aimed the beam of the flashlight in the hole in the floor, which revealed a space a little bigger than a small closet. There, illuminated by the light, sat a young girl with her hands tied and her mouth covered with duct tape.

  Anger flooded Liv’s veins. How could a person do this to a little girl? She had been missing for days. Who knew how long she had been down here? If only Olivia could get her hands on that guy…but she wouldn’t. Besides, the other inmates in prison would show him how people felt toward criminals who kidnapped little children.

  “Miranda, my name is Detective Olivia Mast, and I’m from a unit called Covert Police Detectives Unit. Can I come down? This is my partner, Officer Jefferson Martin, and we are going to take you home.”

  The girl looked up at them for a moment with tired eyes, then slowly nodded.

  Olivia climbed down, and Jeff followed.

  The girl began to make sounds, as if she was protesting. She couldn’t speak with that tape over her mouth. What was she trying to tell them?

  “Jeff, go back up. I think she is afraid of men right now,” Liv told him quietly.

  “You go ahead.” He climbed up and took a few steps away.

  Olivia bent down and crawled to the girl in the small space. “I’m going to take those ropes off, okay? I’m going to cut them, but I’ll be very careful.”

  The child calmed down and let Olivia saw through the knots with her pocket knife. “I’m going to take off the tape now.”

  After Liv pulled off the tape, Miranda winced but quickly recovered. “Are you really taking me home?” Her eyes grew big, hopeful.

  “Yes, Miranda. Your family is waiting to see you. They missed you so much.” Liv offered her hand. The girl’s small hand held on, and Liv pulled her up. The child wobbled and fell into Liv’s arms.

  “My foot hurts. I can’t walk.” Miranda pointed to her ankle. Olivia wasn’t sure if it was a sprain or not, but paramedics would be waiting outside soon.

  “May I carry you, Miranda?” Olivia asked the girl.

  Miranda nodded and reached up towards her. Olivia scooped her up and went back upstairs with Jeff, who made sure the way was clear before them.

  When they stepped outside, Miranda covered her eyes to shield them from the bright light. She probably hadn’t seen the sun for several days. Olivia handed her to the paramedics so they could examine her.

  “Stay here with me, Olivia.” Miranda’s voice sounded soft but desperate.

  “Okay. I will.”

  “You did it again, Liv.”

  Liv turned to see Jeff smiling at her. Her partner was a few years older than she was, around thirty, and handsome. She knew he liked her, but Olivia wanted to keep things professional. Besides, she was too devoted to her career to have time for a boyfriend.

  “I’m impressed with how you found those clues that led us to the kidnapper. How did you know about the washing machine? And how did you know she didn’t want me to come with you when you got her out?”

  “If I were a little girl kidnapped by a man, I think I’d be afraid of men I don’t know. Even a police officer.”

  “Well, it’s a good thing we have female police officers, especially you. Victims trust you more, and you have a way with kids.” He smiled at her again. “When you talk to kids, you’re actually nice to them.”

  “What are you saying?” She playfully hit his arm. Liv didn’t trust anyone, and she liked to be upfront with people, even if it wasn’t polite. She was not the same meek and quiet woman who had left the Amish.

  “You’re not always as sweet as sugar, that’s all.” He gave her a nod. “I still can’t believe you cut all your hair off. It looks great.”

  She tried not to blush as she reached up for the ends of her hair. “Thank you.” She had recently cut her long, dark brown locks and now had a bob haircut with bangs. It had caramel highlights and was longer in the front, since the hairdresser had said that was in style. Liv hadn’t really cared. She had just wanted it shorter.

  Liv had grown up with long hair and had never been allowed to cut it. For a few years after she left her Amish community, it was hard for her to let go of. But finally she decided she needed a change, and she liked it. It was much better than the long French braid she had always worn it in, which always got in the way when she worked.

  It had been her last tie to her Amish roots. She had
even changed her last name from Sullivan back to her maiden name, Mast. Now that she didn’t look Amish at all anymore, she could fully move on. Well, except for her Amish dress and prayer kapp in a box on the top shelf of her closet. She’d never be able to part with them because her mother had sewn them for her.

  “So I hear you’ve got some vacation time saved up. You going to go anywhere?” Jeff asked.

  “I was thinking somewhere without snow. Maybe the Bahamas.”

  “You deserve it, Liv.”

  She didn’t know about that, but she sure couldn’t wait to get out of Maine for a while, away from all the heinous things she saw every day. She imagined a sparkling ocean with soft sand between her toes. And no one shooting at her.

  Some commotion drew her attention, and she turned to see Miranda’s father, Mr. Nelson, approaching and asking lots of questions. Olivia and Jeff walked toward him.

  “Hi, I’m Officer Jefferson Martin from Covert Police Detectives Unit. Detective Mast and I found your daughter today.” Jeff extended his hand.

  “I just got to see Miranda, but I wanted to quickly thank the team for finding her. Where is this Detective Mast? I’d like to thank him personally.” Mr. Nelson shook Jeff’s hand.

  She cleared her throat. “I’m Detective Mast, sir.” She stuck out her hand.

  Mr. Nelson ignored her hand and stuck his hands in his pockets. “Oh. You’re a detective? Really?” He gave her a once over.

  Olivia tamped down her annoyance and crossed her arms. This was not the first time she had seen someone react like this. “Yes.”

  “She’s the one who coaxed Miranda out of the house. Miranda wouldn’t come near me. It’s a good thing we have great detectives like Liv.” Jeff gave her a proud smile. That was one thing she loved about him. He always had her back in any situation. “In fact, Detective Mast found most of the clues today that led us to your daughter. She was the one who found where she was being kept, in a secret room under a washing machine.”

  “Is that so?” Mr. Nelson looked her over again. “You don’t really look like a cop. You’re too pretty to be a detective.” He flashed her a smile, and Jeff raised one eyebrow. She wanted to roll her eyes.