Adam opened the door, but Katie paused to turn back and wave to her friend. There was no way to know when she might make it back for a quiet cup of coffee with her. If ever, depending on how this situation with Timothy might turn out. She immediately stuffed that idea to the back of her mind, refusing to give in to worry and doubt.
She took the door from Adam, allowing him to step out first. He looked to the left and then to the right, toward their vehicle, which the deputy had brought around. When he seemed satisfied, he half turned his head to nod at her and proceeded down the three steps to the parking lot. With one last glance at the cozy café, Katie let the door close behind her and fell into step beside Adam, careful to be between him and the shops, as she had been before.
In Adam’s fast SUV, it wouldn’t take more than a few minutes to get to the bishop’s house. She would use that drive time to pray for Adam and his comfort with the bishop, as well as for a final conclusion to their entire situation.
The cooled air of the coffee shop had been refreshing, but now the heat and humidity of the Indiana summer settled on her with a vengeance. For the sake of safety, they needed to get to the Tahoe quickly, but Katie couldn’t seem to force her feet to move much faster than the slugs she found on the hostas in her flower garden.
Adam was a full step ahead as they reached the wheelwright’s shop. Her mamm had always said she was the peacemaker of the family, trying to make sure everyone was happy and content. Even now she tried to formulate some words of assurance for Adam in his apparent anxiety. Conflict had always been something to be avoided, and now that danger came with it, she was nearly at a loss for what to do or think or feel. At least she had a protector. But now that he seemed to struggle, she couldn’t bear it. If she could just find the right words, perhaps all would be well between them again.
Before Katie could articulate the proper sentence, a vehicle skidded through her peripheral vision. She turned to see a van rushing toward her, gunning the engine and coming seemingly from nowhere. She froze. It felt as if her shoes were stuck in the hot asphalt of the parking lot. The cargo van careened over a strip of grass and tore through the flower bed that separated the fenced-in trash receptacles from the rest of the parking lot.
“Katie!” Adam lunged for her as the van veered back onto the pavement.
She screamed, a primal sound from the depths of her being, as Adam shoved her in between two buggies at the back of the wheelwright’s.
“Go!”
But she couldn’t move. The safety of the shop was a few steps away, but she couldn’t turn from Adam. As she stood rooted to the spot, Adam drew his weapon and pointed it at the driver as the van continued to race toward them.
EIGHT
Adam stood rooted in place despite the recoil of his weapon. The discharge was earsplitting, but it didn’t distract him from rushing out into the parking lot and firing again into the back of the retreating cargo van.
It only took a moment for the van to disappear into the haze of humidity. All seemed quiet except for the ringing in his ears and the sheriff’s boots on the pavement as he ran to Adam’s side.
“I heard the tires squealing and the shouting. What happened? Was it the same vehicle?”
“I think so. And he turned before I could shoot, so I only hit the side of the van.” Adam turned to check the crowd, but the sheriff must have told everyone to stay inside.
Katie huddled next to a buggy, her arms wrapped around her middle as if trying to make herself as small as possible. A dazed look was etched across her face.
He rushed to her, patting the sides of her arms as if that could reassure him that she was uninjured. “Are you all right? Are you hurt?”
She slowly focused on his face. “I am unhurt. But may I sit down?” Her legs wobbled, and he grabbed her before she fell, leading her to a bench near the back door of the wheelwright’s shop.
After making sure she was settled, he returned to the sheriff to survey the damage. Huge grooves sliced through the grass and mud from the van’s tires as it had torn toward him and Katie. Mulch had been thrown all over the wheelwright’s back parking lot. Flower petals were scattered everywhere.
The sheriff tipped his head toward Katie. “She need an ambulance?”
“No. The van didn’t get close to her. What she needs is for this case to be solved and the danger to end.”
“I’ll get my full team down here and see what we can do to find the driver. It looks like he left a little more evidence this time. We’ll get imprints of the skid marks and the acceleration scuff marks. You said he spun out and changed course when he saw your weapon?” He removed his hat and wiped his sleeve over his brow as he had Adam repeat the dynamic movements of the van. “I’ll check whatever imprints we find against the FBI’s Footwear and Tire Tread Files database. Maybe we can connect it to the suspect’s vehicle.”
“That’s a long shot, though, isn’t it?” Adam pointed to the grooves in the mulch and the tire tracks on the asphalt. “Looks awfully smeared.”
“Maybe. Don’t know until we try.”
Adam crossed his arms over his chest. “Do you know how easy it is to change tires? The driver could just jump the fence of a junkyard or steal them off the rack at a tire shop a couple of counties over. You’d never be able to find him.”
“That may be true, but my department is going to do our best to find this guy. I can’t have this happening in my sleepy little county. Tourism is growing here, and tourists want to come see the Amish. They should be able to stay in a bed-and-breakfast and buy a quilt or some homemade jam without fear of being run over. I also have a responsibility to the Amish who live here. They should be safe in their buggies as they share the road and not be afraid of being run over by a crazy English driver.”
Adam held up his hand. “Of course, Sheriff. I’m just being realistic.”
As the sheriff got on his radio to summon his team, Adam walked around the path of the cargo van, careful not to disturb a single blade of grass or a bit of mulch. As he examined the evidence, he glanced at Katie. She seemed to have relaxed a bit, loosening her grip around her middle.
Wasn’t there anything more he could do to find her attacker? Sure, he had been pessimistic with the sheriff. In his experience, no suspect had ever been caught by something so simple and easy as a tire imprint. But the sheriff was right. It was worth the effort. Anything that could help end this danger for Katie would be worth it. She had done nothing wrong except care for her brother. And whatever her brother was involved in, she had had no choice in that either. Increasingly Adam didn’t think that even Katie’s brother had had much choice in the matter. Whatever he had done, it had been against his will.
The Amish were a peaceful group, doing their level best to separate themselves from the world. Adam knew that well enough from the tranquility of his grandparents, as well as the angry comments his father had made on occasion. Timothy had most likely not chosen this clandestine life of illegal activity.
But if that were true—and Adam had no way to know for sure since it was a hunch at this point—then there were two people here who needed rescue—Katie and her brother.
Adam bent to look more closely at the tire tracks on the asphalt, strengthening his resolve to protect Katie and find this suspect. He would do all he could to bring an end to these attacks.
He visually checked on Katie again as she sat on the bench. Her head was bowed, and her lips were moving ever so slightly, probably whispering a prayer. His chest tightened as a new sense of purpose washed over him. He should do a bit of that, as well—praying. If Katie thought it was a good idea to seek the help of an almighty God, then he would join her. It certainly couldn’t hurt or make their situation any more desperate.
God, help! Adam fisted his hands. Wasn’t he supposed to say more than that? But what else? This was more difficult than he thought it would be.
He inhaled fresh oxygen and began again. God, I know we haven’t spoken for a while. Quite frankly I’m not sure why You’d want to listen to me. But I need Your help. More importantly a devout and faithful Amish woman needs Your help. If not for me, then protect her. Help me to keep her safe and put an end to the danger. He mumbled an amen and returned to his examination of the tire tracks.
An hour later, both Adam and Katie had given their statements when the sheriff approached with a look of fierce determination about him. “There’s nothing more you can do here. It’d be more helpful if you got to the bishop’s and asked if he still has an old hymnal. The sooner we can figure out that message, the sooner we can catch the suspects, and the sooner I can get my little town safe again. All right?”
“I agree.” Adam clenched and unclenched his fists, that same fierce determination washing over him as he glanced at Katie. He needed to get his anxiety under control and do his job to the best of his ability. That meant protecting Katie from being trampled like the delicate flowers that now lay on the ground, flattened by the attack.
The drive to the bishop’s house was quiet, save for the hum of the Tahoe’s engine and the one time Adam tried to reassure Katie that everything would be fine. But how did he know? Wasn’t he offering simple platitudes that were meant to make her feel better and make him feel like he was actually doing something? But had he truly accomplished anything?
He halted that line of thinking as they pulled into the bishop’s lane. An older man wearing broadfall trousers, a dark green shirt and a scowl stepped out the front door at the first crunch of their tires on the gravel. He stood on the porch that wrapped around the two-story white structure and waited for them to approach.
“Good afternoon, Bishop Zook.” Katie stepped onto the porch and Adam followed, fingering his suspenders. “We have a favor to ask of you.”
The door opened, and a gray-haired woman with a plum-colored dress swept out. “Wilkom. Good afternoon, Katie. Come on up and sit on the porch for a while. We have heard of the danger from yesterday. How are you?”
Adam inched forward, his mouth open to speak, but with a glance back, Katie held out a hand to stop him. “Actually, Elizabeth, could we sit inside?” Adam suppressed a smile at how quickly the Amish woman had picked up on the appropriate precautions to keep them both safe. Sitting on the porch would leave them exposed to whoever might drive by on the road. Yes, the Tahoe was in the driveway, but inside, there would be a literal wall of protection around them.
The bishop’s scowl deepened, but his wife simply said, “Jah,” and led them inside. Bishop Zook followed closely behind Adam, so closely that if Adam stopped abruptly, the bishop would surely run into him. Even though Adam was in Amish clothing, it seemed clear to him that the bishop knew Adam was simply masquerading and was actually one of those dreaded law enforcement Englischers. But was he still pretending? The Amish clothing was becoming physically comfortable, and he wondered if this was the spiritual life for him. Perhaps his grandparents were right.
Elizabeth gestured to a chair at the kitchen table and busied herself in the kitchen. A few minutes later, there was a slice of peach pie and cup of hot tea in front of Adam. The aroma tantalized him, and his stomach rumbled in response. A window was open just a few feet from the table, and as Adam forked a bite into his mouth, he surveyed the Tahoe, the lane, and the bit of road he could see through the opening.
Katie fingered the handle of her teacup. “Bishop Zook, do you still have a copy of the Ausbund, one of the hymnals that were cared for by my father? We need to borrow one, and it would be just for a few days. We will return it quickly.”
The older man took a long swallow of his tea before he spoke. “I have a few still, but those hymnals belong to the People. They are under my explicit care, along with the benches used for Preaching Sundays. Why can you not buy one for yourself?”
“We, that is, I did. But it will not serve my purposes. I need one that Timothy and I used when we were children.”
“And what are your purposes?” The bishop leaned back in his chair and stroked his long gray beard.
Adam checked out the window again and then leaned back on his chair to peer out a side window as Katie explained the note from Timothy and their need to decode the secret message. He sliced through the pie with his fork for another bite, studying the wood grain on the table before returning his gaze to the window.
“Ach, young Timothy. He has been a mystery these past months. And you believe this particular copy of the Ausbund will be helpful?”
“Jah. Definitely.”
The bishop cleared his throat forcefully, and Adam turned to find the older man’s penetrating gaze lasered on him. “Young man, is there a reason you cannot focus on the conversation?”
Adam ran a hand through his hair—his short, spiky hair that was most definitely not Amish. “I’m watching through the available windows in case there’s trouble. I need to protect Katie from any harm, and if her attacker finds us again, I’d like to get a jump on him.”
The bishop continued to stare. “You mean you want to know if he is coming so that you may adequately prepare.”
“Exactly.” Maybe the bishop understood more than Adam thought he did.
The bishop was silent for a moment while the only sound in the room was the chirp of the sparrows from outside the open windows. “Young man, it must be a difficult and stress-filled life you lead, always on the lookout for danger. Do you have any faith in the Lord, Jesus Christ, in the sovereignty of God, in His guidance and protection? Does anything within you yearn for the simple life? A life that God ordained, of working with your hands and living in community with other like-minded believers, trusting Gott with everything?”
Adam shifted in his chair, heat rising within his chest. On the other hand, maybe the bishop didn’t understand anything at all.
* * *
Katie ran her finger around the rim of her teacup and watched the handsome agent squirm. The bishop was asking Adam everything she herself had wanted to ask him, but she had not thought it her place to be so forward. The bishop, on the other hand, had the courage, as well as the authority, to ask anyone anything.
With one last sip of the tea, she admitted to herself that she had found herself thinking of Adam more and more throughout the day. His bravery. His light brown eyes that seemed to have specks of gold. His broad shoulders that had such strength to protect her.
Ach, but she ought not be unequally yoked. He was not Amish, and she was. The conflict was clear. Would she be willing to leave the Amish faith behind for him? Face the shunning and turn her back on all she had ever known just to be by his side? Drag her twins away from all they were growing up with and all the people they loved? No. She couldn’t see that ever happening.
There was an alternative. Could he leave his Englisch lifestyle, his automobile, his electricity, his fancy phone, and become Amish? It was highly doubtful. It was, in fact, so preposterous, that she ought not even entertain the notion. And what would he do to earn a living? There was no place in the Amish community for a special agent.
Why was she thinking such thoughts to begin with? There had not been any indication that he was developing feelings for her. Sure, there had been a glance, a touch on the arm, that seemed to be something extra, like a show of affection or caring. But had she been imagining it?
Was she really this lonely?
She shook her head and forced her mind back to the conversation at hand. Adam still had not come up with a suitable answer to please the bishop. Even though he was cute when he was nervous, his cheeks pink from the scrutiny, compassion welled up inside her. “Bishop Zook, the hymnal? I appreciate your fervor for righteousness, but I am also concerned with my brother. If decoding this message will help, I am eager to give it a try.”
With one last glare at Adam from under his bushy gray eyebrows, he looked at Katie with a half smile. �
�I am not sure you ever explained how this particular copy of the Ausbund will help you.”
Katie blinked several times, but the bishop continued to examine her. “Ach, I guess it is confession time. Mein bruder and I, when we were children and Daed was the bishop, would use the hymnal for a book cipher and write secret messages to each other. I saw Timothy last night, at my house.”
The bishop and his wife leaned forward with the news. “You did? How was he?”
“I only saw him briefly, and it was dark. But he gave me a note written in a secret code we used as children. Agent Troyer and I believe that if we can figure out the code, Timothy’s message will be helpful in finding both him and my attacker.”
“How could this note have meaning or be helpful at all?” The bishop leaned back again, his arms crossed over his chest. “Your secret messages were the play of children. Naughty children taking a sacred hymnal and using it for their own deceitful devices.”
Elizabeth placed a hand on her husband’s arm. “But if it helps Timothy?”
The bishop hesitated, and then he nodded. “Jah, I grieve for the boy, as well. If a hymnal might help bring a wandering one back into the community, then you may borrow one. I will get it.”
Katie helped the bishop’s wife wash the dishes while the bishop retrieved the hymnal. “You will let us know how this message comes out, jah?”
“Jah. And keep praying for Timothy.”
“Of course.”
At the door, Katie hung back as Adam stepped outside first and checked the perimeter of the bishop’s property. When he nodded that all was safe, she turned to the bishop. His grip on the Ausbund was firm, but he slowly let it go.
“Danki. I will be careful with it.”
“I know. Please let me know how the situation progresses.”
Bishop Zook and his wife walked alongside as Katie hobbled to the Tahoe with the help of her cane. “Jah. For sure and for certain.”
Amish Covert Operation Page 9
