Deadly amish abduction, p.1
Deadly Amish Abduction, page 1
The back door was open and there was no sign of Rachel.
Jacob hurried over to see her tossing a bag of garbage up and into the dumpster.
Out of nowhere, a white vehicle pulled up and a man jumped out from the back seat. He threw a hood over Rachel’s head and jerked her toward the car.
“No! Stop!” Jacob lunged forward, grabbing the edge of the door before the guy could close it. Then he grabbed on to Rachel’s arm. “Let her go!”
The man inside abruptly shoved Rachel toward him as the driver hit the gas. Jacob managed to pull Rachel out of harm’s way seconds before the vehicle peeled away through the alley.
He clutched her against him, his heart thudding painfully against his ribs as he realized how close Rachel had come to being kidnapped.
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
Deadly Amish Abduction
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
Pacific Northwest K-9 Unit
Shielding the Baby
Visit the Author Profile page at LoveInspired.com for more titles.
Deadly Amish Abduction
Laura Scott
He that dwelleth in the secret place of the most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the Lord, He is my refuge and my fortress: my God; in him will I trust. Surely he shall deliver thee from the snare of the fowler, and from the noisome pestilence.
—Psalm 91:1–3
This book is dedicated with love to my aunt Carolyn. You are not only a great inspiration to me but also one of the strongest women I know! I love 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 Forteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Epilogue
Dear Reader
Excerpt from Montana Cold Case Conspiracy by Sharon Dunn
ONE
The stranger was standing outside her café again.
Rachel Miller, who owned and operated Rachel’s Café in downtown Green Lake, Wisconsin, smiled and chatted as she served her customers, while surreptitiously watching the man loitering outside.
He was an Englischer, dressed in dark clothing and a baseball hat pulled low over his forehead. He was clean-shaven, but she knew that didn’t mean much; it was only the Amish men who stopped shaving their beards once they were married. Her small dining room was full of customers, making it impossible for her to go outside to get a better look at him.
Yet his being there nagged at her. She was certain sure he’d been there for a while the day before, as well.
Was his presence outside her café a coincidence? It could be that the location was a designated meeting place. But there was something about the way he moved, and the way he kept his head down, that raised her suspicions.
She considered letting Liam Harland, the Green Lake County sheriff, know about this man, but really, the stranger hadn’t committed a crime. At least, not yet.
Mayhap he was thinking of trying to rob her. The thought made her angry, yet it was hard to imagine the small amount of cash she collected each day was worth his time and effort. The earnings were plentiful to her, as her needs were simple, but not to most in the Englisch world.
She hurried back to the kitchen to get soup and sandwiches for her newest customers. It wasn’t easy doing both the cooking and the serving, but she preferred to handle everything herself. Besides, she only had room for six tables in her small café, so it wasn’t as if she had enough business to support a full-time server. Often in the summer, which was the height of the tourist season, a few Amish teenage girls would come to help for a few hours.
When she returned with the two meals for her guests, the man was gone. Or at least, he wasn’t standing in the same spot where she could see him through the window.
She sincerely doubted he was gone for good. The stranger was probably staying at one of the many rental vacation spots available in the Green Lake area. The May spring weather brought many tourists who enjoyed water sports on the lake and wandered around the quaint and picturesque town.
Rachel continued working, doing her best not to dwell on the stranger who’d lingered outside her café. She enjoyed mingling with her customers, hearing their plans as they spoke of the things they planned to do and to see. It was always amazing how many questions they had for her about being Amish.
Deep down, she was curious about them, too, largely because of her father. While she had no intention of leaving the community where she’d been born and raised, her father had gone back to the Englisch world, leaving her and her mother behind, when she was four years old. Rachel only had very vague memories about her father and since they didn’t use electronics, she didn’t have any photographs of him, either. When she was younger, she’d asked her mother about him and why he’d left, and her mother would only say he didn’t want to be Amish anymore. She knew some chose to leave the community, but she sensed there was more to the story. She didn’t ask anything more. Obviously, it was too painful for her mother to discuss the reasons her father had abandoned them.
Her mother, Arleta Miller, passed away last year after a long illness, leaving Rachel feeling at a crossroads. Bishop Bachman wanted her to find a suitor, reminding her of her duty to the Amish community, but Rachel wasn’t in any hurry to marry and have children. Instead, she preferred pouring all her time and energy into her café.
Being a businesswoman provided her a sense of independence and accomplishment. She wasn’t quite ready to give that up and feared any suitor would expect her to.
As the four-o’clock hour approached, her café customers dwindled away. She only served breakfast and the midday meal, which meant she was normally able to head home by five o’clock, after she’d cleaned the kitchen and dining area, and put everything away.
Most days, she lingered at the café, making something to eat for herself before leaving for the evening. Certain sure she wasn’t in a hurry to return to the empty house she’d shared with her mammi. Once again, she considered moving permanently to the small apartment above her café. The Amish elders wouldn’t like it, fearing that her being so far away from their community would make her vulnerable to the Englisch ways.
Yet it would be nice not to have to walk back and forth from her house to the café each day. For now, she reserved her times for staying in the upstairs apartment for only those days that the weather was particularly bad.
The last pair of customers finally left at half past four. She quickly cleaned the main café area, then went back to the kitchen.
An hour later, she’d eaten her meal and had the kitchen spotless. The last thing she needed to do was haul the garbage out to the dumpster out back that she shared with the other shops located along Main Street.
The bag was heavy, but she managed to lift it with both hands. It took all her strength to fling the bag up and over the edge of the dumpster, where it landed softly on the other bags already in there.
A movement down the alley caught her eye, and she immediately tensed when she noticed a man standing near the side of the building. Dark clothes, dark baseball cap. The same stranger she’d seen outside her café earlier?
Raised voices reached her ears, and she frowned, realizing the man wasn’t alone. She peeked around the edge of the dumpster to get a better view. There were two men standing roughly twenty feet away.
The man with the brown baseball cap and brown jacket who’d been outside her café earlier, and another man. She turned away, then heard a grunt, then a soft thud as something fell.
She looked again and saw the man without a hat on holding a knife and standing over the other man, who was crumpled in a heap on the ground, groaning in pain. Even from this distance she could see blood pooling beneath him.
No! Rachel instinctively reared back in horror. Her elbow slammed into the side of the metal dumpster. The sound must have been loud enough to draw the knife man’s attention because he turned to stare at her. She quickly ducked back inside the café, but then dashed through the building to head out the front door. She took a moment to lock it, then broke into a run.
Had the man with th e knife gotten a good look at her face? The fact that she was dressed in Amish clothing would make it easy for him to find her. The café wasn’t far from where the stabbing had happened. And it was the only Amish café in town.
What should she do? Notify the police? Seeking help from local law enforcement wasn’t the Amish way, but this crime had occurred here in town, not within her community. A slight, but in this case notable, difference.
Her feet instinctively took her straight to the sheriff’s department. At the very least, she could cut through the building, hopefully confusing the assailant should he try to find her.
The thought of walking all the way home alone was enough to make her shiver. The dark rain clouds swirling overhead made it seem later than it really was.
The people inside the sheriff’s department all stared at her when she stepped inside. Amish didn’t normally seek help from Englisch law enforcement. Ignoring the curious looks, she approached the deputy seated at the desk.
“May I please speak to Sheriff Liam?” She knew Liam Harland because he was her friend Elizabeth Walton’s cousin, and because he often came to eat at her café. Liam’s family had left the Amish when he was young, but he held them in high regard, and made a point of honoring their wishes.
Most of the time. He was still law enforcement, so he didn’t appreciate not being informed of some of the crimes that took place within their Amish community.
“Sheriff Harland isn’t here right now, but I can help you if you have a complaint?” The deputy eyed her curiously, no doubt wondering why an Amish woman would come to the police station at all.
“Ah, what about Chief Deputy Garrett Nichols? Is he here?”
“No, I’m afraid not.” The guy frowned. “What do you need help with?”
She glanced over her shoulder, trying to decide what to do. Being inside the police station went against her beliefs. Yet she felt obligated to report the crime she’d witnessed. “I saw a man being stabbed,” she finally admitted. “In the alley behind my café.”
“Café? Oh, yes, you’re Rachel Miller.” The deputy frowned. “A man was stabbed? Are you sure?”
“I saw a man holding a knife, while the other man was lying on the ground, bleeding.” She twisted her hands together nervously. “And I believe the assailant saw me, too.”
“Okay, take a seat. I’ll call Garrett and send a deputy over to investigate.” The deputy reached for the phone.
Stepping back, she bit her lip, trying to decide what to do. She’d done her duty by reporting the crime. Should she stay or go? The longer she waited, the darker it would become. She didn’t want to walk home in the rain.
If she left now, she could use the side door to leave the building, a tactic that may prevent the assailant from finding her.
Or mayhap not. What to do?
While the deputy was busy on the phone, she abruptly turned and hurried toward the side door. As she reached it, she heard the deputy calling to her, but she ignored him. Liam or Garrett would come find her tomorrow for more information, but for now, she couldn’t ignore the urge to get home.
As quickly as possible.
Rachel darted between cars in the parking lot located behind the sheriff’s department headquarters. She knew the general layout of the town and chose the shortest path to get her out to the main highway, which would take her to the Amish community.
A quick glance over her shoulder confirmed no one was behind her. At least not on foot. But there was traffic on the road, and she eyed every vehicle warily, fearing the assailant would be behind the wheel.
She alternated walking and running while searching for possible shortcuts. It was a bit too early in May for planting, so cutting through one of the farm fields was an option. Harder on her feet, but mayhap better in the long run.
Before she could make a move, she saw a horse-drawn buggy approaching. Someone from her community! Without hesitation, she lifted her arm and waved at the driver. “Help, please, help me!”
“Whoa, boy.” The deep voice sounded familiar, and when the driver grew closer, she recognized Jacob Strauss. She saw him often enough at church services, but they hadn’t spoken to each other since Elizabeth and David McKay’s wedding two and a half months ago. He always came across as too somber and stuck in his ways. Likely due to the way he’d lost his wife and son two years ago.
“Rachel?” Jacob frowned. “Is something wrong?”
“Ach, Jacob, I need a ride home.” She managed a strained smile. “Please?”
“Certain sure,” he agreed. Even though he’d been headed in the opposite direction, he didn’t seem to mind. He stood, offered his hand and helped her inside. “You appear upset. What is the problem?”
She dropped into the seat beside him, and let out a silent sigh of relief. Jacob didn’t immediately turn around, as this stretch of road wasn’t wide enough, but that was okay. This way she could see if anyone came to find her. She licked her lips and confessed, “I witnessed a man being stabbed not far from my café.”
“An Amish man?” Jacob asked in shocked surprise.
She shook her head. “No, both men were Englischers. But I think the assailant saw me. As I’m obviously dressed as Amish, I’ve been worried that he may try to find me.”
“Well, then you must stay away from the café.” Jacob’s authoritative tone irked her.
“No, Jacob, that’s not possible. I have a business to run.”
“And what if this assailant returns to find you in the morning? Then what?” he demanded.
Jacob’s concern was not misplaced. He had a valid point. Yet she didn’t have a good answer.
All she could do was bow her head, and pray for God to keep her safe.
* * *
Jacob glanced at Rachel, who appeared to be praying. He scowled, thinking of his deceased wife, Anna, and son, Isaac. God had not protected them, so why would He provide safety to Rachel?
He often wondered if Anna had intended to take Isaac, leaving him and the community. It’s true she never expressed unhappiness during their marriage, but why else would they have been in their buggy so far outside the community? To an area where cars were not on the lookout for Amish buggies.
Shaking off the dour thoughts, he urged the horse into a trot, anxious to get Rachel home. First, though, he needed to reach the next intersection so they could turn around. They had experienced much rain recently, and more threatened from the overcast sky above. He didn’t want to risk getting stuck in the mud along the sides of the road.
He didn’t often go to the downtown area of Green Lake. Over the past few months, he’d come to understand that the Amish Shoppe—the large red barn that had been renovated to hold many smaller stores run by the Amish—and Rachel’s Café provided well-needed funds to the community. Yet he didn’t like the idea of their Amish women working among the Englisch outsiders. Anna had been content to stay home and to raise their son.
Yet after they’d died in the accident, he was forced to reconsider whether that was true. Was she leaving him personally? Or the Amish life in general? He did not know, but feared the former.
“I hope I’m not keeping you from something,” Rachel said. “You must have been heading into town for a reason, ja?”
“Nothing pressing, certain sure.” He didn’t want to admit he’d taken the horse and buggy out because he needed to get away from the empty house for a while. As a farmer, he was normally busy, but it wasn’t quite time to plant yet. Driving around without a destination wasn’t the Amish way. They valued hard work and discipline, two things he normally excelled at.
However, his world had been shaken over the past few years. First when he’d lost his wife and son to a buggy accident, then again a few months ago when he’d learned the terrible truth about his best friend, Adam, who’d been dealing drugs to the Englischers.
The only good thing that had come out of that troubled time was that he’d helped save his neighbor Elizabeth from harm.
“How have you been?” Rachel’s question had him glancing at her in surprise.
“Sehr gut,” he answered automatically. Even though he was anything but good. He struggled to come up with safe topics of conversation, even though small talk wasn’t his strength. “I hear from Elizabeth and David that your café has been successful, ain’t so?”
