Amish holiday vendetta, p.1
Amish Holiday Vendetta, page 1
“Go back inside.”
“No, David. I intend to stay with you.” Elizabeth gripped the back of his coat.
There wasn’t time to argue. He carefully descended the cellar stairs, using the lantern to illuminate the area.
When he reached the bottom, he swept the light in a complete circle, but no one was there.
His gaze landed on the puddles of water on the floor.
“Someone was here,” Elizabeth whispered.
“Yes.” He slowly straightened and once again swept the lantern over the area.
Without warning, the cellar door slammed shut. He lunged up the stairs to stop it, but it was too late.
He pushed against the door, expecting it to open, but it didn’t move.
Panic gripped him by the throat. He pushed again, using all his strength. The door moved a fraction of an inch, but no farther.
The wind hadn’t closed the cellar doors, but someone had.
They were trapped.
Laura Scott has always loved romance and read faith-based books by Grace Livingston Hill in her teenage years. She’s thrilled to have been given the opportunity to retire from thirty-eight years of nursing to become a full-time author. Laura has published over thirty books for Love Inspired Suspense. She has two adult children and lives in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, with her husband of thirty-five years. Please visit Laura at laurascottbooks.com, as she loves to hear from her readers.
Books by Laura Scott
Love Inspired Suspense
Hiding in Plain Sight
Amish Holiday Vendetta
Justice Seekers
Soldier’s Christmas Secrets
Guarded by the Soldier
Wyoming Mountain Escape
Hiding His Holiday Witness
Rocky Mountain Standoff
Fugitive Hunt
Rocky Mountain K-9 Unit
Hiding in Montana
Visit the Author Profile page at LoveInspired.com for more titles.
Amish Holiday Vendetta
Laura Scott
O taste and see that the Lord is good: blessed is the man that trusteth in him.
—Psalm 34:8
This book is dedicated with love to Sally Nowak and Vicki Christman, two of my biggest fans. I’m truly blessed to have wonderful readers like you!
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter SEVEN
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Epilogue
Dear Reader
Excerpt from Christmas Crime Cover-Up by Dana Mentink
ONE
Elizabeth Walton battled a wave of apprehension as she walked home from the Amish Shoppe in Green Lake, Wisconsin, where she sold her handmade quilts. She shouldn’t have lingered for so long. Darkness came early in mid-December, and there was a dusting of fresh snow covering the ground, making some areas slick. Part of her dread was knowing Mammi Ruth would once again express how Elizabeth had failed her husband. Ruth’s son, Adam, had died six months ago after a terrible fall, and Mammi Ruth continued to treat Elizabeth with disdain, placing the fault with her. As if she had somehow caused Adam to tumble from the loft and land on the floor of the barn, hitting his head with such force as to cause massive bleeding into his brain.
And mayhap there was blame to share, as deep down, Elizabeth knew she hadn’t loved Adam the way she should have. It had been a marriage arranged by the elders, and one that she had not wanted. Yet she had done her duty to Adam for the two years they were married. She still prayed for God’s forgiveness for feeling nothing but relief after Adam had passed away.
The hoot of an owl startled her. She shot a quick glance over her shoulder, but the road behind her remained empty of traffic. For the past few days, Elizabeth had the uneasy feeling of being watched. And just last night, she’d caught a glimpse of someone lurking near the barn, which was no longer in use.
She’d told herself to stop imagining things, as there would be no reason for anyone to go the empty barn. Young teens, maybe, looking for a place to meet, but they tended to hang out in groups, not individually.
And not at such a late hour in mid-December.
As she approached the entrance to her home, her footsteps instinctively slowed while she searched for a sign that someone might be lurking nearby. Was it her imagination? Or was someone moving along the right side of her house?
“Who’s there?” she called sharply. “Show yourself!”
No response.
A shiver that had nothing to do with the cold winter air rippled over her. She clutched her cape close and quickened her pace, taking care not to slip on the snow-covered ground. The front door was close now. If she could just get inside...
This time, she heard a thudding sound coming from the side of the house where the shadow had been.
Someone was there! Steeling her resolve, Elizabeth forced herself to investigate. Mayhap the three Johannesburg boys were seeking to play tricks on her.
“Who’s there?” she called again. “Benjamin Johannesburg, is that you? Are your brothers here, too?”
Still no response, but as she peered around the corner, there was no mistaking the trail of footprints in the snow leading away from her house and toward the barn.
One set of footprints, not three.
Fear closed around her throat, choking her, but she forced herself to be strong as she followed the prints all the way to the barn. She hadn’t been inside since the fateful day Adam had fallen to his death.
She shivered again when she saw the sliding door was open just a few inches. Not wide enough for someone to get in and out, but surely an indication that someone had been there recently. Especially given the fresh footprints in the snow. Using caution, she approached the door and called again, “Who is in there? Please show yourself!”
The darkness made it impossible to see man or beast, although the livestock had been taken by the elders after Adam’s death to be used for the good of the community. She shoved at the door, opening it wider. A musty, stale scent wafted toward her.
She hesitated, her feet refusing to take her inside. What if the intruder was waiting for the chance to lash out against her? She couldn’t imagine why anyone would do such a thing, but the fresh set of footprints in the snow was proof someone had sought shelter there.
“If you’re cold, you are welcome to come to the house.” She made the offer in case the intruder was a stranger to the area and had nowhere else to go. After several long moments, with no response, she turned away. A small kerosene lantern flickered from Mammi Ruth’s bedroom window. Her mother-in-law was no doubt becoming impatient, waiting for Elizabeth to return. Even though Mammi Ruth was physically able to perform some basic cooking and cleaning, she tended to allow Elizabeth to do the work, expecting to be waited upon.
She was halfway to the house when she heard the crunching sound of boots against the snow. She turned just as a pair of hands struck hard in the center of her back. The momentum sent her sprawling to the ground, her palms and knees stinging with pain, her face planted in the thin layer of snow.
Stunned, she didn’t move for a long moment, hardly able to comprehend what had just happened. Then she quickly pushed to her feet, swiping the snow from her face. She raked her gaze over the area, searching for whoever had done such a mean thing. More footprints were visible in the snow, leading through the yard and disappearing in a wooded area that separated her property from her neighbor next door.
Her shoulders slumped as she realized her attacker was gone.
Doing her best to ignore the pain in her hands, knees and chin, Elizabeth headed to the back door, questions swirling in her mind.
The assault didn’t make any sense. The Amish community was close-knit, and the members always helped each other in times of need. The elders made sure everyone was cared for, and physical violence was not tolerated. Bishop Bachman’s sermons supported these beliefs.
Not only had someone sneaked around her house and hidden in her barn, but they’d attacked her from behind, no doubt to distract her so they could escape without being caught.
Who would do such a thing? And why?
Elizabeth had no idea.
Yet she was very much afraid this wasn’t an isolated event. That whoever had been there would return.
And next time, the assailant may try something far more sinister than simply pushing her to the ground.
* * *
David McKay had developed the bad habit of staying late at the Amish Shoppe. He’d closed his storefront at the same time all the other shop owners did, as the main doors of the renovated barn were locked at the end of the day. The Amish Shoppe housed several Amish businesses. But he was one of the few vendors who had enough space to house his workroom behind his showroom. Since there was no one waiting for him in his dark, empty house, he often worked late, choosing to sleep on the cot he’d set up in his small kitchenette.
Tonight he’d stayed up to finish a baby cradle. In the past few months, it had become his hottest-selling item. He carried the cradle into the front showroom and set it in a prominent location right in front of the door to draw attention. He made a mental note to ask Elizabeth for one of her baby quilts to put on display the following morning. Elizabeth Walton had a quilt shop right next to his showroom, and they often joined forces to market each other’s wares.
Just thinking of Elizabeth made him smile. They were only friends, but that didn’t stop him from secretly longing for more.
Unfortunately, she didn’t know anything about his checkered past, especially the four years he’d spent in jail for manslaughter. She was also an Amish widow, and the Amish didn’t readily welcome outsiders into their community. David had changed his ways after being released from prison. He’d done his best to mold his life after the Amish, choosing to give up electricity, cars, power tools and other modern technology the way the Amish did, but he knew that alone wasn’t enough.
A flash of movement at the far end of the Amish Shoppe caught his eye. He frowned and moved closer to the glass doors that ran along the front of his showroom. It was unusual for one of the other Amish shop owners to be here so late, nearly nine o’clock on this Wednesday night, but he couldn’t imagine who else would be there. The front doors of the Amish Shoppe were locked, so anyone coming in would need a key.
A short, dark shadow moved from one side of the main aisle to the other. The tiny hairs on the back of David’s neck lifted in warning. Without hesitation, he quickly unlocked his showroom door and soundlessly pushed it open. He moved down the row of shops to his right, staying on the opposite side of where he’d seen the shadow.
He belatedly realized he should have grabbed the cell phone he’d recently acquired, but the thought hadn’t occurred to him. He and Elizabeth shared the device, having been granted permission from the Amish elders to use it for business purposes.
Reporting a man lurking in the shop wasn’t exactly business related. Unless he was there to rob the place.
David moved silently along the hallway, his keen gaze trying to find the shadow. It occurred to him that one of the Amish members would have simply gone straight to their shop.
The shadow moved again.
“Who’s there?” His voice echoed along the long center aisle.
Something hit the floor with a loud crash. Then the shadow ran, heading toward the main doorway. David quickly followed.
“Stop! Who are you? What do you want?”
The guy wrenched open the door, then turned back. When David saw the gun in the short, burly man’s hand, he hit the ground just as the pistol boomed sharply and the bullet whizzed by.
What was going on?
David gingerly lifted his head, only to realize the guy had vanished. He jumped to his feet and ran outside. But it was too late. He heard the rumble of a car engine, the taillights quickly disappearing from his line of sight.
David blew out a breath, trying to calm his racing heart. He turned to head back inside, then paused and crouched down to examine the main doors. There were tiny scratches in the metal around the lock.
Lockpick tools had been used to access the building by a man with a gun.
Why? To commit a robbery? It was possible, as the Amish were known to favor cash transactions over credit cards. Yet the Amish were also smart enough to take their proceeds home with them each night. In the eighteen months he’d been there, the Amish Shoppe had never been targeted by thieves. The Green Lake area didn’t have a lot of crime.
Well, not until a few months ago, when he and his niece, Shauna, had been targeted by several bad guys. But that was a once-in-a lifetime event.
Wasn’t it?
After heading inside, David made sure to lock the main doors again, before examining the area. He found the source of the crash to be a small rack of scented, Christmas candles in red and green, now sprawled on the floor outside Clara’s Candle Shoppe.
Thankfully, only one of them had been broken. He righted the rack and replaced the candles, tucking money beneath the one that was broken. Then his gaze dropped to the wooden plank floor, noting there were several wet spots left behind by the intruder. There had been a dusting of snow outside, and the gunman had tracked some of that snow in on his feet.
David walked the entire interior of the Amish Shoppe, just to be sure he didn’t miss anything else. He’d only seen one man, but there could have been more.
But the place was empty except for him. David assumed the way he’d called out had scared the guy into running.
The intruder hadn’t expected anyone to be here. Logically, that tipped the scales toward the motive being a robbery, but David couldn’t quite make himself believe it. Mostly because of the way the guy had aimed his weapon directly at him and fired.
Wouldn’t the average robber have just run off without shooting?
A shiver snaked down his spine as he returned to his showroom. He made sure to lock the door before heading into the work area in the back. He unplugged the phone from its charger and stared at the screen. Then he set it aside. He knew the Amish community preferred to solve their differences among themselves, rather than involving outsiders like the police.
Green Lake County Sheriff Liam Harland had married his niece, Shauna, last month. Technically that made David Liam’s uncle, although they were only about eight years apart in age. He was torn between being true to the Amish lifestyle he’d chosen and knowing Liam should be aware of what had happened here tonight.
Maybe he’d call in the morning. No reason to wake Liam and Shauna this late. The intruder was gone, and thankfully nothing had been stolen.
The wind picked up outside. The small woodburning stove didn’t always heat up the large area. Normally, the physical effort of creating furniture helped keep him warm, but not as much when he stretched out on the cot, even with the comfort of huddling beneath two of Elizabeth’s thick quilts.
David fell into a restless sleep, fragmented dreams keeping him on edge. The mistakes he’d made in the past had intermingled with the gunman who’d entered the Amish Shoppe. This time, the gunman found him and shot directly at his chest. David woke up just before he felt the impact of the bullet.
Sweat dampened his brow despite the chill in the air. He drew in a deep breath to ground himself, then crawled from the cot to add wood to the stove.
Using an old-fashioned percolator on his woodstove, he made coffee. His stomach rumbled with hunger. He sat at his small table and bowed his head. He prayed for God to bless his food, and to keep the Amish Shoppe safe from further criminal activity. Then he finished the small amount of bread and cheese left over from last night’s dinner. It wasn’t enough to fill him up, but when the Amish Shoppe opened for business, he’d walk down to the Sunshine Café for breakfast. Elizabeth sometimes joined him, and while he knew they could only be friends, sharing meals with her was the highlight of his day.
Being just over a week from Christmas brought more customers to the Amish Shoppe than usual. Come January, the crowds would be thin. The Amish didn’t decorate their homes the way the English did for the holiday, but they did weave some Christmas themes into their wares this time of the year.
He enjoyed the holiday spirit. He strode down the center aisle, then abruptly stopped when he thought about the events of the night before.
Where was the bullet?
He went to the spot where he’d been standing and looked around. Judging by where the shooter had been standing, he followed the most logical trajectory, leading back behind him. The center aisle was long and narrow, with his showroom located at the end.
He returned to his showroom. The glass doors were still intact, which made sense as he’d left them open when he’d gone after the intruder. Yet as he looked more closely at the baby cradle he’d just finished, he saw it.
A small bullet hole in the side. An ugly display of violence in a cradle that was meant to surround a new arrival with love.
He fought a wave of despair. He was thankful that he hadn’t been injured, but he obviously couldn’t sell the cradle now. He carried it back to his showroom. It was something to show Liam later.
