Dana R. Lynn - Amish Christmas Abduction

“The ambulance is here now,” Paul said to Jace. “Why don’t you call your mom and let her know what’s going on so she doesn’t worry.”

“How bad does Irene look?”

Bad? Paul nearly smiled. Irene never looked bad. Even bruised and shaken, the red-haired woman was perfect. Of course, he couldn’t say that, although he had a suspicion that Jace was on to him.

“She looks fine. Maybe a little shaken.” Blue eyes glared up at him. “Make that mad, will you?”

An unexpected chuckle floated down the line. “She’s glaring at you, isn’t she?”

“Sure is. And I much prefer that.”

A pause. “Yeah. Me, too.”

An angry Irene was much easier to deal with than a shaken or frightened one. He got that.

“Put her on, will you?”

Paul handed the phone to Irene, then moved away again to give her some privacy. When the ambulance crew came over, she returned the phone to him.

Paul gave them room to do their job. And he did his—setting up flares to warn oncoming traffic to take precautions. By the time he returned to the car, Irene was done being checked out. The paramedics were recommending a trip to the hospital to get her head checked out. As expected, she was set against going.

“You should go to the hospital to get checked out.” Paul bent over for a closer look at the bruise. She rolled her eyes, making him grin.

Irene sighed. “I need to get home to my kids.”

“I had Jace tell your mom where you were. He will make sure that they’re taken care of. Besides, your car will need to be towed. There’s no way you can drive it with the back window blown out. Go to the hospital, and we will bring your car back when it’s drivable. If all it needs is a new windshield, that should be tomorrow morning.”

He received another glare for his trouble. Why did it have to be this hard? He kept hoping that she would forgive him. Then again, what would he do if she did? It wasn’t like he would be any good for a fine woman like Irene. He had way too much baggage. Too many other responsibilities around his neck.

A sudden noise caught his attention.

Irene started to speak. He raised his hand. When she started to look huffy, he said, “Wait. Do you hear something?”

Irene tilted her head, her curls brushing against her cheek as she did. He averted his gaze and was momentarily distracted by the fact that her left hand was ringless. He was sure she had still been wearing her wedding band last time he saw her.

There it was again. A scratching noise. And now a faint mewling sound. Coming from inside her SUV. Paul moved closer and leaned in. Irene backed away from him. Whether that was because he was too close or because it was him, he didn’t know. And now was not the time to ponder it. If something was in Irene’s car with her, he needed to get to the bottom of it, fast.

“Irene, I need you to do exactly what I say.” He kept his voice at a low murmur, the epitome of calm and casual, even though his heart was beating fast.

For once, the stubborn woman nodded without arguing. Guess she was still pretty freaked-out. And who wouldn’t be?

“Go get in my cruiser. I need to see what’s in your car, but I don’t want you here when I do. I need to focus on this completely.”

He didn’t say, And your presence is already too distracting to me. Although he could have. He surely could have.

Paul made eye contact with her, making sure she understood how important this was. She moved towards his car, wobbling slightly on the uneven road. He held on to her elbow until she was steady, then let her go. He watched as the female paramedic led her safely to his cruiser. The paramedics wouldn’t leave the site of an accident until the patient either joined them in the ambulance or signed a refusing-treatment form. So at least, she wouldn’t be alone and unguarded.

The moment he felt she was reasonably safe, Paul shined his flashlight into the back of the car. Nothing was there that he could see. But then he heard the mewling again. This time it was louder.

Moving to the back, he grabbed his gun in one hand and the light in the other. Bracing himself for a fight or to duck, he flashed his light in the back window—and nearly dropped the light in his shock.

Curled up on the floor of Irene’s SUV was a small child. A little girl, although he was unsure of her age. No more than two, he guessed. Judging by her dress and bonnet, she was Amish. She was shivering.

She was also covered in blood.

TWO

Paul pushed his gun back into the holster and yelled for the paramedics.

“I have a child here! Possibly injured.”

He opened the door, stepping back to let it swing upward. The dome light came on, causing the little girl’s eyes to squeeze shut. She whimpered and curled into a tighter ball. The poor little thing was scared to death. Who did she belong to? And how on earth had she gotten into the back of the car?

“It’s okay, little one,” he crooned softly. “I’m going to help you. What’s your name?”

No response. She didn’t even look up.

Paul heard shuffling feet, and the male paramedic stepped up beside him, only his eyes showing the level of his concern. In a job working with those who were injured or dangerous, you learned quickly to remain calm at all costs. That was the only way you survived. Paul knew from experience that bad things could happen when you didn’t. When you lost control, who knew what sort of damage would result? When the man started to climb into the back of the SUV, the child drew back in terror.

“Let me.” Sydney, the female paramedic, moved forward and climbed in, making soothing noises. The girl still pulled back, but her distress seemed to lessen. When Sydney moved toward her, the girl whimpered but was calm enough for the woman to examine her.

He felt someone at his side and knew without turning that Irene was there. Of course. Why would she do what he asked and remain in the car? After all, he was only the chief of police. It wasn’t like he had any authority. Not with her, at any rate. Even if she didn’t like him, she knew him too well to be intimidated by his authority.

“She has Down syndrome.”

“What?” He looked at the little girl again.

“You see her eyes, and her face—I’m a special-education teacher, remember?” Irene’s voice was hushed, soothing. A mother’s voice. “Oh, she’s beautiful. And so scared. Paul, is that blood on her dress?”

Sydney beat him to it. “Yes, but I don’t think it’s hers. I can’t seem to find any visible bleeding injuries on her. But she is dehydrated. When she opened her mouth, her tongue was white and seemed dry. Her eyes seem a little sunken, too. I wouldn’t rule out abuse, either. She needs to go to the hospital.”

“How is it we didn’t hear her before?”

Paul wanted to know that, too.

Sydney tilted her head. “My guess? She was either momentarily stunned or the noise from everything else drowned out the sound.”

Paul had another thought, one that chilled him. “Or she’s been conditioned to make no noise.” Irene and both paramedics looked at him, startled. Maybe even a little confused. But he could see the dawning horror as the meaning of his words sank in.

“You mean she might have been punished for making any noise.”

He nodded. “Yeah, that makes the most sense to me. Sorry to say.”

Sydney moved to pick up the child. The little girl backed away, eyes flaring wild. The male paramedic—Trey?—tried to reach in and get her. Immediately, she went into a frenzy, shrieking and biting.

“Oh, hey, don’t do that!”

Irene moved forward. Paul reached out a hand to caution her to stay back, then felt his own jaw drop when the child launched herself out of the car and into Irene’s arms. Her little arms wound up about the woman’s neck and clung tight. Almost strangling Irene. Her grip looked painful, but Irene didn’t flinch. She held the child securely in her arms, murmuring comforting sounds. The child settled down.