Alison Stone - Plain Pursuit

“They can read about it in the guidebooks.” Eli started to close the door. The woman raised her voice. “We learned Tiffany Christopher was critically injured in the crash. I’m sure you’re aware they’re a prominent family in this area.”

Anna froze and held her breath. She had the sensation of standing on the ocean’s edge about to be clobbered by a giant wave. The reporter’s focus turned toward her. “I was told the pilot’s sister was in town.”

Eli held his hand in front of Anna protectively.

“Do you know—” the reporter consulted her notepad “—where we could find Daniel Quinn’s family? His sister?”

Seemingly in an effort to intimidate, Eli moved toward the reporter. “I asked you to leave.”

The reporter tilted her head. “I thought maybe we could get a comment from the sister. To clear his name.”

Tiny white dots floated in Anna’s line of vision. “What are you talking about?”

“Mr. and Mrs. Christopher have alleged the man piloting the plane was unstable. That he had suffered from post-traumatic stress disorder and was drunk when he took the plane up with Tiffany on board.” The pounding of her heartbeat in her ears nearly drowned out the reporter’s allegations. “I understand there was a history of violence in his family.”

Panic pierced Anna’s heart. She stepped forward and wrapped her hands around the smooth railing for stability. “My brother died in the crash. Let him rest in peace.” Tears clogged her throat, making it difficult to speak. She didn’t want her family’s tragic past splashed all over the news again.

“Your brother?” The reporter’s eyes lit up, but she obviously already knew who Anna was. “Would you be willing to go on camera?”

The implications ran through her mind. She didn’t know anyone in this small town. Maybe if people knew she was here they’d help her piece together what her brother was doing in Apple Creek that had him spooked.

Keenly aware of the camera trained on her, she inhaled deeply. Daniel wouldn’t have risked his life by drinking before flying. None of this made sense. She wished she could rewind time. If only she had kept in touch with her brother.

Anna walked down the porch steps and stared straight into the camera. “My brother, Daniel Quinn, died in the plane crash. If anyone knows—” she started over “—if anyone knew my brother, please contact me.” After she rattled off the digits of her cell phone number, Eli placed his firm hand on her shoulder. If his touch was meant to be a warning, it came too late.

An internal voice scolded her for announcing her cell phone number on a newscast, but right now she didn’t care. She had nothing to lose. Worse case, she’d get a new cell phone number after things calmed down. “I want to talk to anyone who saw my brother early yesterday morning or the night before his flight. Or anyone who had ties to my brother while he was in Apple Creek.”

She was desperate to shed some light on his frame of mind. Had he gone off the deep end with his conspiracy theories? Twin ribbons of shame and grief twisted around her heart. Daniel had always looked out for her. He even saved her life when she was twelve years old. Tears burned the backs of her eyes. It was too late for her big brother, but she owed him this much—to clear his name in death.

“Was it a scheduled flight?” The woman’s hawkish eyes shifted from hers to Eli’s and back.

This time Eli answered. “Neither Miss Quinn nor I have any information regarding the investigation. You’ll have to talk to the sheriff.” He lifted his chin. “Now, if you’ll please respect the privacy of the family who lives here, we’d appreciate it.”

The reporter lowered her microphone and offered her business card to Anna. “If you’d like to do a full interview, please call me.” She pursed her lips. “I’m sorry about your loss.”

“Thank you.” A dark part of Anna’s heart suspected the reporter took pleasure in other people’s misfortune. It made for good news.

Eli’s solid hand rested on her shoulder. She resisted the urge to lean into him for support. After the news crew crossed the road and started filming the crash site, she looked up at him. “Do you think I made a stupid mistake?”

“Sometimes you have to go with your gut.”

A mirthless laugh escaped Anna’s lips. “You don’t know me very well. I’m not one to shoot from the hip.”

Seeming to regard her carefully, he rubbed a hand across his whiskered chin. “Will getting answers help you sleep better at night? Bring you peace?”

She searched his brown eyes, feeling an unexpected connection as if he understood her pain. “I hope so,” she whispered.

Eli brushed a knuckle across the back of her hand, the motion so quick she thought she imagined it. “You’re not convinced?”

Anna shrugged. She turned and climbed the steps, the wood slats of the porch creaking under her weight. Katie Mae appeared in the side yard and placed a wicker basket on the grass. Bending at the waist, she lifted a wet dress and pinned it to the clothesline. Anna stood transfixed as Eli’s younger sister completed the chore. Three rows of garments in subtle hues of gray, bright blue, dark blue and lavender weighed down the lines. Something about the simplicity of the chore, the repetitiveness of it, appealed to Anna. Could peace be found in the simple things?

Anna swept a strand of hair out of her eyes. Nothing about her life had ever been simple.

* * *

After the commotion outside the Miller’s farmhouse, Eli drove Anna to her brother’s place. On the drive over, she finally got the nerve to ask the question that had been haunting her since the reporter first brought it up. “You met my brother. He sometimes gets crazy ideas, but he didn’t seem unstable, did he? Had he been drinking?” Her voice cracked over the last word. Their father had been an abusive alcoholic.

Eli ran the palm of his hand across the top of the steering wheel, never taking his eyes off the road. “I can’t say he was drinking, but he was agitated. He was worried about you.”

“It doesn’t make sense. Does any of this have to do with your cold case?” Anna was afraid of his answer. No way had her brother been involved with a child’s disappearance. But she had to ask.

Eli cut her a sideways glance. “I don’t know. He was reluctant to tell me what he knew, if anything. He seemed afraid.” She sensed Eli wasn’t telling her the entire truth.

The car came to a stop at the intersection. As frustration welled inside her, a sign on the lawn of one of the churches at the corner came into focus. No Jesus, No Peace. Know Jesus, Know Peace. Slipping her hands between her knees and straightening her arms, she wondered why she couldn’t instinctively shut off her worries and rely on God. Only her faith could get her through this.

Curiosity nudged her. “Growing up in an Amish community, faith was a big part of it, right?” The entire concept fascinated her. “Do you still go to church?”

Anna studied Eli’s profile. A muscle worked in his jaw. He gave her a measured stare. “What is the old saying? Don’t discuss religion and politics.”

“I didn’t mean to offend you.”

He stared out the windshield. The silence between them grew thick with tension. Obviously she had touched on a sore subject. About a half mile past the center of town, they turned into the driveway of a well-maintained home. Pots of yellow and purple mums lined the porch steps. Large windows overlooked the front yard.

Eli navigated the driveway until he reached the back of the house. He jerked his chin toward a three-car garage and a set of steps hugging one side of the structure. The furthest bay was open. “Your brother rented the garage apartment.” He parked and climbed out. Anna joined him around the front of the vehicle.