Meghan Carver - Amish Covert Operation

“You’re still in contact with people from your...former life?” Adam just couldn’t wrap his mind around the idea of leaving law enforcement to be a farmer or to build furniture, or whatever it was that Jed did to earn his living.

“Sure.”

“How did you ever decide to—”

“Join the Amish church?” Jed chuckled. “I had amnesia.”

“And then you remembered you were Amish?” Adam couldn’t keep the sarcastic tone from his voice. But to give up a career in law enforcement, a job that righted wrongs and fought for justice? He couldn’t understand that.

“No, but as I worked through the difficulties of my loss of memory, including my run-in with the guys who were after me, I realized I’d been wanting a more relaxed and slower pace to my life. I was ready to settle down, spend time raising a family, eat pie.” An easy smile stretched across his face.

It still wasn’t anything Adam could understand, although he begrudgingly admitted to himself that he admired the peace Jed seemed to have. He was ready to move on to the next topic. “What about Katie? All she told me was that her brother is her only family left.”

“That’s probably about all you’re going to get as far as information goes. I haven’t known her long, but Sarah tells me Katie’s husband was killed in an accident at the sawmill. It’s been a struggle for her since, but we help as much as we can. And her brother has always been helpful, until just recently. The Amish take care of each other, especially families.”

“Would she be helpful in the investigation?”

“The Amish don’t like to mix with law enforcement. They keep to themselves as much as they can. Considering what the former sheriff was like, I can’t say I blame them all the time.” Jed shook his head and smiled. “I should say we keep to ourselves as much as possible. It’s only been a few months since I joined the church, and it’s going to take a while to get used to. With Katie, though, I think she honestly doesn’t know anything about her brother. Just give her time. The Amish believe patience is a virtue.”

Adam touched his weapon in its holster, his fingers rubbing on the smooth leather, and scanned the perimeter again. For too long he had been investigating a suspected ring of identity-document smugglers. Counterfeit passports and social security cards had been leaching out of the Chicago area and turning up all over the Midwest. Katie’s brother had been missing in action for two months, there but not there, and now it seemed that someone was willing to shoot at Katie. Patience may be a virtue, but he didn’t have time to wait. The sooner justice could be administered, the better.

* * *

Katie might be Amish but that didn’t mean she was naive. She noticed things. A lot of things. Facial expressions. Unspoken words. Nearly imperceptible gestures. She had clearly seen Adam’s skeptical look in her direction when he had stepped out to take his telephone call. His brown eyes had clouded with uncertainty. The man doubted her, and to some extent she could understand why.

Her own bruder , her only bruder , was a person of interest. What was that phrase? Guilt by association.

But she wasn’t guilty. She was scared and doing her best to trust in the goodness and divine will of Gott .

Katie sipped her coffee and forced herself to make conversation, trying not to stare out the window. Eventually Adam returned, and although he didn’t exactly smile at her, it seemed that his clouds of doubt had cleared. Perhaps whatever private conversation he had had with Jed had satisfied him.

He grabbed another cookie and bit off half. “Ready to go?”

“Jah.” She hugged her twins tightly, cherishing the softness of their cheeks against hers, planting kisses on their foreheads, engraving their cherub faces in her mind’s eye.

As she stood, Sarah gathered the twins to the folds of her skirt. Sarah’s daughter, Lyddie, stood nearby, just a couple of years older and a gut friend to her girls. “It is only for tonight,” Sarah reassured her. “Tomorrow you will be together again.”

After Adam had checked the front yard, she hobbled back to his SUV and allowed him to help her in. Her leg was feeling better, but she still appreciated his assistance, as well as the cane he had whittled. After Katie waved one last goodbye through the window, the vehicle roared down the road.

With Adam’s driving speed, it did not take long to reach home. Of course she had ridden in a vehicle, but Adam seemed to drive much faster than other drivers, with trees and bushes and homes whizzing past at a tremendous pace. As he pulled into her lane, she grasped the door handle to keep herself upright.

When he put the vehicle into Park, she turned to him. His eyes flashed in the dim interior of the vehicle, seeming to reflect the moonlight, and she forced her gaze toward her house and away from him. His handsomeness was not something upon which she should dwell. “ Danki , Special Agent Troyer. I have much for which to thank you. Saving my life, whittling the cane, driving me home. You have protected me, and I am grateful.”

He retrieved a business card from his wallet. “If your brother contacts you or you think of anything that might be helpful, can you get to a telephone and call me? Or if your leg does not heal well and you want to get to the hospital, call me and I’ll come for you. Is there a phone nearby?”

Shadows played around his angular features when she glanced at him. “ Jah , a couple of houses down the road.” It would not do for her to find him handsome. There was nothing that could come of it. If she ever did remarry, it would be to an Amish man, not a brooding, weapon-carrying Englischer .

He simply nodded and hopped out of the vehicle, jogging around the front to offer her assistance. “I’ll get your bicycle and then wait until you get inside and turn on a light.”

“ Danki. Just lean the bicycle against the porch railing.” She stole one last glance at his strong profile. “Good night.”

“Good night,” he called over his shoulder as he parked the bicycle.

She opened the front door, stepped inside and closed the door behind her. By the light of the moon, she stepped toward the propane-powered lamp in the living room, running her hand along the top of the easy chair. If she had come in the back, there would have been a battery-powered lantern at the door. But she hadn’t expected to be dropped off in a government agent’s vehicle after dark.

On her third step, she paused, the skin on her arms rippling into goose bumps. Was someone else in the room? It didn’t feel right somehow, and her heart slammed against her chest. Slowly she turned in a circle, peering into the darkness. The moonlight that had seemed so bright outside suddenly seemed extinguished within the house.

She spied a figure at the back door, and adrenaline spiked through her arteries, her fingers digging into the chair back. But it was only her winter cape hanging on a hook at the back door. Now that warm weather was here for the summer, she ought to store it away.

Her mind was playing tricks on her. That was all. She straightened her apron and inhaled deeply, then took the last few steps to the lamp. With her hand on the knob to regulate the propane, and her other hand reaching for the lighter, a voice hissed at her from the darkness.

“Katie, no.”

As if acting independently, her hands jerked back from the lamp and clutched the bodice of her dress. She knew that voice.

A tall figure stepped out from its hiding place, pressed against an armoire near a particularly dark edge of the living room.

She gasped. “Timothy!” Dizziness threatened her, but she gulped air to fight it.