Lone Wolf Standing

by Carla Cassidy

  Abraham once again pulled on his beard, as if contemplating her request. Sheri pressed her advantage. She took a step closer to him and placed her palm in the center of his broad chest, fighting against the wave of nausea that tried to take hold of her.

  “Please, Abraham. It would please me so much to have more time with my aunt.” She looked up at him with a pleading gaze.

  His cheeks colored faintly and she drew her hand back, unable to touch him for another minute, another awful second. “We will leave things as is for the rest of the night and talk about it again tomorrow,” he finally said.

  “Thank you, Abraham. I appreciate it,” Sheri said, and bowed her head humbly.

  He gave her a curt nod and then stepped out of the room, closed the door and locked it once again. Sheri nearly fell as she wobbled her way back to where Liz sat trembling on the bed.

  “I feel like I’m going to throw up,” Sheri said.

  Tears filled Liz’s eyes. “I always knew you were strong, but I didn’t realize just how very strong until right now. You just saved my life.” Liz wrapped her arms around Sheri.

  Sheri leaned her head against Liz’s shoulder, knowing that really all she’d accomplished was to get her aunt a temporary stay of execution.

  * * *

  Before they pulled away from the King residence, Jimmy pulled out his cell phone and called Officer Richard Crossly, who had stayed behind at the store.

  “We’re still out here at the settlement and just finishing clearing the King property. We’re on our way to Isaaic Zooker’s place but I wanted to check in to see if there’s anything new there.”

  “Nothing,” Richard reported.

  Jimmy pressed the phone closer against his ear and closed his eyes. He wasn’t sure what he’d hoped...that Sheri would magically reappear from the place she’d vanished? That somebody had dropped her off and the whole night would have been just a terrible misunderstanding.

  But he knew that wasn’t going to happen. Sheri wasn’t going to suddenly be back where she belonged. She needed help, and he didn’t know what to do except what they were doing, search everywhere until they found her.

  “Thanks, Richard,” he finally said.

  “Sheri’s sisters and mother have gone back to the Dollhouse. I think they’re planning a search party of their own,” Richard said.

  “Get an officer over there with them so they don’t do anything stupid. The last thing we want is them to stumble on something and destroy evidence or confront a man who is potentially a killer.”

  “I’ll head over there myself,” Richard said. “We’ve done everything we can here at the store.”

  With a murmured goodbye, Jimmy hung up and pocketed his phone as Frank started the engine to head to the Zooker place.

  “Looks like we’ve awakened everyone in the area,” he said.

  Jimmy stared at the other homes where faint glows indicated lanterns at the windows, just inside the doors. Yes, the whole settlement seemed to have been awakened by the police presence on their land.

  The gossip would be in full swing by the time the sun came up. His heart squeezed tight. He didn’t want the sun to rise without Sheri being found.

  Jimmy didn’t know much about Isaaic Zooker. He knew the man had never married and had a reputation in town for being particularly antisocial. He was well-known for his variety of cheeses that he produced and sold both to the Dollhouse and in Sheri’s store, but Jimmy had never heard any real gossip about the man.

  When Roxy was trying to put together a list of people who might want to hurt her, Isaaic had been on her list. She’d told Steve that the man hated her and gave her the creeps. But the local talk was that Isaaic hated everyone and everything English.

  Certainly the man responsible for Agnes’s and Liz’s disappearances, if they were connected, would have to be antisocial. The detectives had already discerned that the person they sought would probably have to live alone.

  Jimmy sat up straighter in the seat, a new buzz of anticipation filling him as he realized that Isaaic Zooker fit many of the characteristics of the man they sought.

  Had the man who had been delivering cheese to the Dollhouse and Sheri for the past several years developed an unhealthy obsession with Liz who provided the homemade fresh pastries and pies for the restaurant? Had that obsession for some reason now transferred to a younger woman—Sheri? Where did Agnes Wilson fit into the scenario?

  So many possibilities, so little evidence to prove anything. With no trails to follow, only suppositions and theories, despair battled with hope in Jimmy’s heart. Just like the battle that had once been waged between good and evil when he was trying to decide between cop or thug.

  He reached up and rubbed the area where the barbed wire tattoo had been etched into his biceps. Evil had lost that particular battle. He hoped that evil would not prevail now.

  As they pulled up to Zooker’s white, neat ranch house, he also stood on his porch, the moonlight illuminating him, along with a lantern he held in one hand.

  “There is trouble?” he asked as Frank and Jimmy approached where he stood.

  “Sheri Marcoli is missing. We believe she’s been kidnapped and we’re checking the area.”

  Isaaic’s dark eyes widened and a small gasp escaped him. “Sheri is one of the few English I like and respect.”

  “Then you wouldn’t mind if we come in and took a look around your home?” Frank asked.

  “You’re welcome in my home,” Isaaic replied. “But I would never do anything to hurt Sheri.” He stepped aside to allow them entry into a neat and tidy, simply furnished living room. Lanterns illuminated the room from their perch on the fireplace mantel.

  “When was she kidnapped?” he asked.

  “Sometime this evening,” Jimmy told him. “And if I have to I’ll tear down every standing building in the entire town to find her.”

  Isaaic nodded. “I would expect no less from you for her.” He motioned them toward the hallway. “I will light the way for you.” As they moved from room to room, Isaaic lit lanterns to glow in each bedroom and in the small bathroom.

  He preceded them back down the hallway and into the large kitchen, where he lit more lanterns and the scent of cooked pork lingered in the air.

  Hours. It had now been hours that Sheri had been gone. Had she been carried away far into the mountains? By now she could be in another state or she could be as close as the house next door.

  “What about your brother, Abraham Zooker. Has he ever said anything unusual about Liz or Sheri Marcoli?” Jimmy asked.

  Isaaic’s face bleached of color, matching the white shirt he wore. “I have no brother.” His slender face tightened with tension. “I once had a brother, but he turned his back on our ways. He’s become English and is no longer a member of this community, of my family.”

  “How has he become English?” Jimmy asked curiously. He knew that Abraham had been shunned for a while for apparently using more than what was allotted to each person for water. But he hadn’t realized the shunning had turned into an excommunication.

  “He uses his water at will and he now also uses electricity.” Isaaic’s words came quickly, as if forced from a pressure cooker. “Oh, he pretends he does not. We see his lantern glow in the house after dark, but we have also seen the electric lights that spill from his basement window deep into the night.”

  “Is it possible he’s working on his furniture building at night in his basement?” Frank asked.

  Isaaic shook his head. “He has his shed for his work. His tools are there and that’s where he does his work. Bishop Yoder tried to counsel him, but he wouldn’t listen. He changed after his wife died. He stopped interacting with the community, went to church only sporadically.”

  “When did his wife die?” Jimmy asked. He hadn’t even realized t
hat Abraham had ever been married.

  “Almost four years ago. She just dropped dead in the middle of the kitchen floor from a massive heart attack. She was a good wife, obedient and kind and he seemed lost without her.” Isaaic’s eyes were filled with sadness. “And now he is lost to us all forever.”

  Almost four years ago. That would have been just before the time that Jimmy had started working for the Wolf Creek Police Department. Her death must have happened in the months right before he’d arrived in town.

  But what had every nerve in Jimmy’s body jumping was Isaaic speaking of electric lights shining from the basement windows in Abraham Zooker’s home.

  Why would an Amish man have electricity in his basement? Did he watch television there? Was he surfing the internet? Or was it possible he was keeping somebody down there? Was it possible the man who made beautiful furniture had Sheri in his basement at this very moment?

  Chapter 18

  Liz had been right, time had no meaning as Sheri and Liz remained sitting on the cot, talking about all the life that had happened since Liz had disappeared.

  Sheri told her about the frantic search, how they’d initially believed Edward Cardell had taken her to the old fishing cabin in the woods and had killed her.

  Liz laughed, her laughter holding an edge of sadness. “Edward could never hurt a fly. He’s a very nice man.”

  “Since you’ve been gone he and Treetie have become an item,” Sheri said, her disapproval rife in her voice. “I can’t believe that either of them would betray you like that.”

  Liz patted Sheri’s leg. “It isn’t a betrayal and none of you girls should be mad at either one of them. Edward and I had a nice relationship. It was easy and comfortable, but he was never going to be a permanent fixture in my life. He and Treetie are much more suited to each other and I hope they find happiness together.”

  Sheri studied her aunt’s face in the dim light. For the first time Liz looked every year of her age. Dark circles were evident beneath her eyes and lines of stress creased her forehead.

  “Are you mad at Ramona for saddling you with us when you could have found another husband and built a different kind of life for yourself?”

  “Heavens no, I was never angry with her for bringing you girls to me. I knew I was never going to be anyone’s wife again and each one of you brought a joy into my life that I never thought I’d get to experience. But I was disappointed in the choices Ramona made with her life, that she’d left holes in little hearts because she couldn’t pull herself together. At least she did the right thing in recognizing she couldn’t be the mother you all needed. Some mothers never recognize that and do irreparable harm to the children they raise in chaos.”

  “She’ll never be a mother to me,” Sheri said. “No matter how many times she apologizes, no matter what she says about those years in her life, you’ll always be my mother.”

  Liz patted her leg once again. “I would hope that if it’s true that she’s clean and sober and working on building a bridge to you girls, that you’ll open your hearts to allow her in somewhere in some fashion.”

  “You know we’re in bad trouble,” Sheri said after a long moment of silence. “The police have no leads as to where we are. Abraham has been quite careful and has left no clues or evidence behind.”

  “I’ve known I was in bad trouble for some time,” Liz said. “I just wish you weren’t here with me. I wish you were in your backyard with Highway running circles at your feet while you feed your woodland creatures and feel the warmth of the sun on your face.” A sudden sob escaped Liz’s lips. “Your being here is my worst nightmare come true.”

  Sheri hugged her aunt. “I refuse to give up hope. If I can somehow fool Abraham into thinking that I am the right woman for him, then maybe I can manipulate him into allowing you to stay alive. I can work myself into a position where he will trust me and then someway I’ll figure out an escape plan.”

  “No prince riding to the rescue,” Liz said as a statement of fact rather than as a question.

  “There never was a prince riding to my rescue,” Sheri replied. “Those were the fantasies of a stuttering young girl who felt like an outcast and needed a hero. I need to be my own hero and somehow I need to figure out how to get us out of this mess.”

  She shoved away thoughts of Jimmy that tried to intrude into her head. She couldn’t think about him now. It made her heartache too deep.

  He must hate her now. He’d handed her his heart on a shining silver platter and she’d thrown it back in his face, clinging to foolish dreams that had no place in the reality of a grown woman.

  She had a feeling that Jimmy wasn’t a man who took chances a second time. It had taken him an enormous amount of courage to speak of how he felt for her. She knew in her heart how difficult it had been for him to reach out for love again given his traumatic childhood experience.

  He would be doing his job now, attempting to find her, but it would no longer be love driving him, it would be duty. But she had certainly never considered Abraham a potential suspect in her aunt’s kidnapping, so there was no reason for any of the lawmen to consider him, either, other than the fact that she had put his name on her list of people she interacted with on a regular basis.

  She had the terrible feeling that if she and her aunt were going to be saved, then it was up to her. She had to somehow get into Abraham’s head, figure out how best to interact with him and then pray that sooner or later she could escape.

  The idea of pretending to care about Abraham, of touching him in any way, made her want to throw up, but if pretending that she was the woman he’d waited for saved their lives, then she’d do whatever she had to do.

  At least she didn’t have to worry about Highway. If she never returned to her cottage, Jed Wilson would take the dog he had trained and love it as if it were his own. Highway and her sisters would grieve for her. It was possible even Ramona would grieve for the child she’d given away so long ago who had grown into a woman she’d never really gotten to know.

  Once again she leaned into her aunt, comforted by Liz’s presence, yet knowing if something didn’t happen, it was possible neither of them would ever see the light of day again.

  * * *

  It was almost three in the morning when Jimmy and Frank knocked on Abraham Zooker’s front door. The modest ranch house was set some distance from the others in the settlement and was dark, as if Zooker was unaware of the search activity that had taken place in the past couple of hours at his neighbors’.

  Nervous energy bounced around inside Jimmy as he waited for Zooker to answer the door. The workshop was a solid wooden shed not far from the house. It, too, was dark and the door hung open, indicating to them that the interior was void of human presence.

  They had spied no electric lights gleaming out of the small basement windows as they’d pulled up. The entire area was shrouded with darkness broken only by the moonlight that filtered down from the cloudless sky.

  Jimmy knocked on the door, harder this time, the sound echoing in the otherwise silent night. “Coming,” Abraham’s deep voice came from somewhere behind the door.

  A moment later he appeared in the doorway, a lantern in his hand and a confused sleepiness on his face. “Detectives,” he said in surprise. “Why would you be on my doorstep at this time of the morning?”

  “We’d like to ask you a few questions,” Jimmy said, fighting the need to shove past the man and race to his basement to see what was down there.

  “Questions that couldn’t wait until sunup?”

  “Questions that couldn’t wait another minute,” Jimmy said. “Are you going to invite us inside?”

  “Of course, everyone is welcome in my home, although you’ll have to excuse the mess. I spend most of my time in my workshop and things have gotten away from me here.”

  Even in
the faint light from the lantern, Jimmy could see that Abraham’s words were an understatement. Dust lay on furniture and turned the brown sofa to a dusty beige. The air inside smelled stale, with lingering cooking scents of old oil and spoiled fruit and vegetables.

  “Now, what questions can’t wait?” Abraham asked as they stood in the middle of the living room.

  “We hear you are no longer a member of the community, that you have become too English,” Frank began.

  “We’ve been told you’re using electricity,” Jimmy added.

  “Ah, you’ve been talking to my brethren.” Abraham moved to a light switch on the wall and turned it up. Nothing happened. “I’m afraid my reputation has been sullied by the fact that I no longer participate in the social gatherings. If you listen to my neighbors you’ll hear stories of me watching pornographic movies and having the internet, but I am still a simple man living our way.”

  “Can we see the rest of the house?” Jimmy asked.

  “I have nothing to hide here.” He handed Jimmy the lantern and then lit another one on one of the dusty coffee tables.

  Jimmy and Frank headed down the hallway, scouring the shadows of each room, flipping light switches that didn’t turn on anything.

  Had Isaaic been mistaken? Did he have a personal grudge that might have him pointing in the direction of his brother? Was it possible Isaaic had lied about Abraham having electricity?

  By the time they returned to the living room, Frank’s cell phone rang and he motioned that he would take the call outside.

  As he walked out the door, Jimmy looked at Isaaic once again. “And now I’d like to see your basement.”

  “My basement?” Abraham’s shoulders stiffened slightly. “But it is just a dusty, dirty place of storage.”

  “I’d still like to have a look around,” Jimmy insisted.

  Abraham shrugged his shoulders and tugged on his beard as if he couldn’t imagine why Jimmy would make such a request. “As you wish,” he said.