The Agent's Secret Past

by Debby Giusti

  “You’ve done a great job with all the details, ma’am.”

  The senior wife smiled. “It was everyone coming together to help make it happen. I’m so glad you could be part of the committee.”

  “Thank you, ma’am. We’ll keep our eyes open and wait until the day’s over before we let down our guard.”

  “I’m relieved to know you’re here, Becca. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I want to buy a quilt for the guest bedroom. Bishop Zimmerman said his wife had some lovely patterns that I might like.”

  Mrs. Cameron hurried to a booth where a number of bedcoverings hung over the wooden frame. The bishop stood nearby and watched the two women examine the various quilts, all colorful patterns Becca knew so well.

  The band started to play a jaunty march, and soon people were tapping their feet or clapping their hands to the music.

  As if with new eyes, Becca saw the beauty of the Amish way of accepting each day as a gift from God. In her youth, she had wanted to control her own life, something with which she still struggled, but as she glanced around the marketplace, she was overcome with a renewed appreciation for these good people who put God first. If only she could share this bit from her past with Colby.

  She circled through the area and was relieved to see Fannie Lehman arranging handmade aprons and crocheted shawls in one of the rear stalls. Noticing the woman’s furtive glance over her shoulder and the dark lines that circled her eyes, Becca hurried forward.

  “Is something wrong?” she asked, her own gaze flicking to the nearby parking area. “Did Jacob Yoder come back?”

  The widow hung her head.

  Becca reached out to touch her hand. Fannie glanced up. The look on her face spoke volumes about her struggle.

  “Is he here?” Becca asked again.

  The older woman pursed her lips as if annoyed. “I told you he left the area.”

  “You don’t have to be afraid,” Becca insisted. “I’ll be close by. If you see him, let me know. A number of military police are in the crowd. We won’t let him hurt you.”

  “I do not fear for myself.”

  “Is there someone else he wants to harm?”

  The woman looked into Becca’s eyes. “I thought you knew. He wants to hurt you.”

  * * *

  General Cameron arrived at the fair shortly before nine. The two stars on the general’s flag flying from the front bumper of his sedan looked impressive, and many of the shoppers turned to stare as he climbed from the car.

  His aide rode with the general and escorted him to the stage area. Mrs. Cameron met him there. Together they walked to where the bishop stood. The men shook hands and chatted amicably before the general nodded and pointed to the stage. He and Mrs. Cameron climbed the raised platform and approached the podium.

  Becca glanced back at the widow’s stall to ensure Fannie Lehman was all right.

  Her heart jerked in her chest.

  The booth was empty.

  She circled through the crowd. The general’s voice boomed over the loudspeaker.

  “Welcome to the first annual farmers’ market and craft fair hosted by Fort Rickman and our new Freemont neighbors in the Amish community.”

  Becca flicked her gaze to the surrounding stalls. Surely the widow was talking to a friend. Perhaps she had gone for a cup of coffee.

  Glancing at the beverage stand, Becca’s optimism plummeted. A young woman and her two little ones were the only customers in line.

  To the right of the stage, the bishop and his wife stood. Just like many of the other people, their attention was focused on the general.

  Becca’s neck tensed. Where was Fannie Lehman?

  She raised her cell and called the head MP onsite. “I’m looking for the Amish woman who was in stall seventeen. Gray hair, about 145 pounds, five feet four inches. She was wearing a blue dress, apron and a short black jacket.”

  “Ah, we’ve got a problem, ma’am. I see a number of Amish women who fit that description.”

  “Jacob Yoder might be in the crowd. Inform your men. Let’s search the area. If you see anything, call me.”

  She disconnected, wishing Colby were here. He would understand the urgency in finding the widow and ensuring she was okay.

  Becca hurried to the widow’s stall and peered behind the counter. Seeing nothing out of order, she checked the surrounding booths.

  Cars filled the designated parking area. The horses and rigs were lined up in the distance. Perhaps Fannie had gone back to her buggy. Becca double-timed across the field.

  Behind her, the general continued to talk about how the military and civilians in Freemont had come together on a number of projects. Both he and Mrs. Cameron hoped today’s market would grow into a bimonthly event that would draw people from the outlining areas.

  Cheers from the crowd punctuated his pauses as he introduced the Freemont mayor and city council.

  Becca neared the first buggy and gazed into the carriage, seeing nothing except a lap blanket neatly folded on the seat.

  A horse neighed. She turned at the sound and saw something on the grass. A quilt or—

  The widow.

  She raced to where Fannie lay. Becca felt her neck relieved to find a pulse.

  A bulging welt on the woman’s forehead and scratches to her throat confirmed the foul play Becca suspected. Raising her cell, she called the MP with whom she had just spoken.

  Before she could say anything, a rag covered her nose and mouth. “No,” she tried to scream, inhaling a sickening sweet smell that affected her equilibrium. She fought against the cloying scent and the hands and the body that overpowered her.

  Her strength ebbed. The scream died in her throat, and slowly the world turned dark as she pitched forward onto the cold, damp grass.

  * * *

  Colby pulled into the parking lot of the farmers’ market much later than he had hoped after being tied up at CID Headquarters with Chief Wilson. The general had concluded his remarks and a group of schoolchildren were taking the stage.

  Exiting his car, Colby’s gut tightened as he spied four MPs gathered in the rear of the whitewashed stalls. He glanced around the area, looking for Becca. Fear settled along his spine. Something had happened and it wasn’t good.

  Racing toward the men, he held up his identification. “CID. Where’s Special Agent Miller?”

  A corporal, tall and beefy, shook his head. “That’s what we want to know. I got a call from her, but she didn’t say anything. I only heard a gasp.”

  Colby’s heart lurched. “How long ago?”

  The corporal raised his cell. “The call came in ten minutes ago.”

  “Fan out. Check the parking area.” Colby pointed to a second MP. “Call your headquarters for backup.”

  “Over here.” A young Amish woman waved frantically from where the buggies were parked. “Fannie’s hurt. I need help.”

  Colby called CID Headquarters as he raced forward. Ray Otis answered. “I need an ambulance and every available CID agent at the market area. Agent Miller is missing. Lock down the post. Set up roadblocks. We could be looking for a 2005 Crown Vic, metallic blue, or an Amish buggy. Search each car leaving post.”

  “Roger that. I’m on it.”

  “She’s hurt her head,” the young woman told Colby as he approached, noting the angry lump on the older woman’s forehead and the marks on her neck.

  He knelt and felt for a pulse. “An ambulance is on the way.” He turned to glance at the nearby road. “Did you see anyone leaving the area?”

  She shook her head. “No.”

  One of the MPs approached.

  “Stay here until the EMTs arrive,” Colby ordered.

  He raised his cell again. “Ray, have the river path checked. Someone could have escaped along tha
t route unnoticed.”

  “Will do, sir. I contacted the guardhouse at the main gate. An Amish buggy passed through not more than two minutes ago.”

  “Call the Freemont police. Have them set up roadblocks. We need to stop that buggy.”

  Hearing the sirens approach, Colby left the MP in charge of the widow’s care and hurried back to his car.

  He pulled onto the main road and accelerated, stopping only briefly at the Main Gate.

  “Which direction did the buggy go?” he asked the guard on duty.

  “North, sir, toward Freemont.”

  A horse-drawn carriage could never outrun a motorized vehicle. Colby pressed down on the accelerator. Fear tangled through his gut.

  Jacob Yoder was on the loose and he had Becca.

  Colby had to find her before it was too late.

  TWENTY-ONE

  Becca’s head throbbed, and her muscles ached as if she had the flu. Blinking her eyes open, she knew any illness would have been better than what she faced.

  Her hands and legs were tied, and she was lying on a dirty mattress, wedged against the wall. She raised her head and stared around the small, bare room. A jackhammer of pain stuttered through her skull.

  She moaned.

  As if in response, a dog growled. His paws tap-danced across the wooden floor. She smelled the animal before she saw him. A huge, black beast with pointed ears and large jowls.

  The Doberman she had seen at the widow’s house.

  A second dog trotted forward, larger than the first. A female. She barked twice.

  A door creaked. Afraid to turn, Becca kept her gaze on the animals. The shuffle of footsteps approached the bed.

  “You’re awake.” Jacob’s voice.

  “Call off the dogs.” Becca tried to sound assertive.

  “You’re frightened by them?”

  He knew she was.

  “Because of your father’s threats about the neighbor’s dog. Is that not right?”

  She refused to respond.

  “All right, Rebecca. Hearing your voice after all these years has softened my heart. I will do as you ask.” He snapped his fingers and the dogs backed off.

  Becca let out the breath she had been holding and dropped her head onto the thin mattress. The musty smell filled her nostrils and sickened her stomach.

  Jacob peered down into her line of view.

  Again her stomach rolled.

  His eyes were wide and a smirk covered his mouth. “You haven’t changed, Rebecca.”

  “I’ve gotten smarter.”

  He sneered. “Not smart enough to run from me.”

  She didn’t answer. He was right. She’d allowed herself to get caught.

  “I’ve missed you.” His voice had a seductive pull that sent another volley of fear to weave around her spine.

  “You’ve been busy, Jacob, wooing unsuspecting older women. You used them and killed them and ran off with their money and their treasures.” She steeled herself to act defiant.

  “You don’t know where I’ve been or what I’ve done.”

  “I know you killed your mother.”

  His face twisted with rage. He raised his hand and slapped her face. Her head crashed against the wall. Pain like white lightning shot through her.

  “No,” she cried, unable to control herself.

  “Did you like that? Because that’s what my mother used to do to me. My brother, Ezekiel, and I tried to run away from her, but she always found us. I never complained and suffered in silence. Do you know about that, Rebecca? Do you know how to suffer in silence?”

  “You killed your brother and your wife and then burned down the house around them.”

  He shook his head. “Ezekiel died so that I might live.”

  “Are you parsing words, Jacob. Do you even understand what that means?”

  “If you think I am doppick, dumb, why did you fall in love with me?”

  The question Becca had struggled with for so long. Coming face-to-face with him after all this time allowed her to see more clearly. She hadn’t been at fault. Jacob had wooed her just as he wooed the widows.

  “I was young and foolish and taken by an older man who promised to show me the world.”

  “Yet you changed, Rebecca.”

  “You mean after you married Mary and still tried to have your way with me.”

  He laughed. His hand touched a lock of her hair. “You fought so hard, even when I surprised you in the barn. I knew your father would not believe you. He thought you tried to seduce me, didn’t he?” Jacob chuckled. “Your father loved you, but he loved money more.”

  “My father saw what he wanted to see. He thought you were a good man. How completely you fooled him, Jacob.”

  “I told you not to run from me, Rebecca. I said how mad I got when people left me. Katie promised not to leave me, but she went home to pack a bag just as you had done the night I said I’d meet you at the covered bridge.”

  “Thankfully you never showed up because you were already laying claim to the widow Mary.”

  “Merely investing in our future. The farm was worth saving, which you didn’t understand.”

  “I understood about Mary’s failing health. You poisoned her.”

  He shook his head and laughed. “I provided relief from her aches and pains. She was old and infirmed when I married her. Since I couldn’t have you, I wanted Katie, but she rejected me just as you had done.”

  “You killed her because she tried to escape.” Anger mixed with Becca’s fear. “Katie called me from Elizabeth’s house and said she needed help. I didn’t want Elizabeth to get hurt so I told Katie to go home, thinking my father would protect her until I arrived. Only you got there first.”

  Overcome with the guilt she still carried because she had sent Katie home to her death, Becca moaned.

  “You’re an animal, Jacob.” She glanced at his dogs. “Although that’s an insult to your pups.”

  He put his hands over his ears like a child. The sleeve of his shirt slipped down, exposing red welts on his arms.

  “Does it bother you to hear the truth?” she pressed, thinking of Elizabeth and how she had fought to save herself.

  He backed from the bed and pulled a bottle from a shelf in the corner, but she continued on.

  “You killed Katie and my father and Elizabeth Konig and your wife and brother and mother. An Amish woman died in Tennessee and an English widow in Kentucky. You’re planning to kill Fannie Lehman and me and probably more people until someone stops you.”

  She saw the rag in his hand and scooted closer to the wall, trying to distance herself from Jacob and the chloroform.

  “No.” She shook her head.

  He glanced at the animals lying in the corner and nodded. Both dogs trotted to where he stood.

  “The dogs won’t hurt unless you try to escape. In that case, they will attack you. The last person they stopped did not survive.” He leaned closer. She smelled his stale breath and saw the evil in his eyes. “You won’t be able to run ever again.”

  He lowered the cloth to her face. She struggled, trying to free herself from the restraints and from the saturated rag that covered her nose. She held her breath far too long and gasped when her lungs were ready to burst.

  Instead of air, she inhaled the chloroform that took her to another place far from Jacob Yoder and his dogs.

  * * *

  Colby raced along the Georgia back roads that skirted Freemont and led to the Amish community. He passed a number of farms and turned onto the narrow path that ran through the forested area.

  At the clearing, he pulled to the side of the road, drew his weapon and ran toward the Lehman widow’s house. He pushed through the door, surprised to find it unlocked, and
moved stealthily from room to room.

  Finding nothing that had bearing on where Jacob had taken Becca, he climbed the stairs, his senses on high alert and his weapon raised to fend off any attack. At the second-floor landing, he turned into the long hallway and made his way from room to room.

  Once outside, he hurried to the barn and pulled the door open. Empty.

  He studied the landscape. Even the dogs were gone. The widow was in the hospital. A phone call from Ray said she had revealed nothing they didn’t already know.

  Colby hurried back to his car.

  Where was Becca and how would he find her?

  * * *

  The door creaked open. Becca kept her eyes shut, hoping Jacob would think she was still drugged.

  “Hey, pups.”

  She was sickened by the irony of a man who killed in cold blood yet cared so lovingly for his dogs. Their paws brushed against the floor as they danced around their master.

  Footsteps approached the bed. She could feel his presence and knew he was peering down at her.

  Don’t move.

  Don’t react to his nearness.

  Think of better days.

  A mental image came to mind. Colby standing next to her. His hand on her arm.

  The thought soothed her fear and brought comfort.

  “Rebecca?” Jacob touched her cheek. She struggled not to recoil. “You are still asleep?”

  He turned and called the dogs. They scurried forward.

  Their cool, moist snouts nuzzled her face, sending waves of repulsion rippling through her.

  She fisted her hands tied behind her. Her nails dug into her flesh.

  “Come, pups.”

  Evidently satisfied she was still drugged, Jacob’s footsteps moved toward the door. The dogs whined.

  “Yes, yes. We will take a walk while Rebecca sleeps.”

  The door opened, then closed. Silence filled the void.

  Becca’s eyes popped open. Her gaze flitted around the room. The bottle of chloroform sat on a wall shelf. No pictures. No curtain at the small window above the bed.

  She strained against the ropes binding her hands and feet. Scooting to the side of the mattress, she forced her legs over the edge and pulled herself upright.