Where Shadows Meet by Colleen Coble (14)

Angie had the radio turned up and was singing along when Hannah got back to the car. Perspiration trickled along the back of her neck, and her pulse still raced from the effort to convince Matt to help her. If she’d had anywhere else to turn, she wouldn’t have gone to him.

The smile on Angie’s face faltered when she saw Hannah. “It didn’t go well?”

“That man could make a bishop swear.” Hannah slammed the door behind her and fastened her seat belt as Angie laughed. “He’s going to look around, but he’s still looking at our community for the murderer. Just like he did when my family died. One of us was his first assumption. I thought he might have learned something, grown up some.”

Angie started the car and pulled into the line of traffic. “Don’t you watch CSI? It’s generally someone close to the victim. He’s just following standard procedure.”

“But does he have to be so obnoxious about it? I want to talk to my aunt, but not while she’s so upset. She seems to know something about this.”

“Well, you can do that later. Publishers Weekly called, and you have a phone interview with them in an hour and a half. They want a quick quote from you for an article they’re running on why Amish books are so popular.”

Hannah wanted to shake her head and refuse, but Angie was just doing her job. “Angie, I don’t want to do any promotion while I’m here. Please don’t schedule anything more.”

Angie didn’t seem to hear. “We’ve got to maximize the opportunity while we can. I plan to call some women’s magazines next and set up photo shoots here in the area where they can see you interacting with the Amish.”

“No, absolutely not. No photos here. You know the Amish don’t like their pictures taken. They don’t tolerate graven images or vanity.” The very thought made Hannah want to pace. If her family were fully aware of her fame, their disapproval would soar. When had she so fully disassociated herself from the concept of Hochmut? Her people had a horror of elevating themselves into the limelight, but she’d welcomed it when it had come. Perhaps she had even been a bit prideful of her success. No wonder the bishop warned against how easily worldly ways could creep in.

They reached the turnoff to Nora’s farm, and from the corner of her eye, Hannah saw a truck go by. The man’s head swiveled, and their eyes locked. It was Reece. She saw recognition come into his face, and he smiled.

“Step on it, Angie, quick!” Her pulse thundered in her ears. Five years wasn’t long enough to get rid of the metallic taste of terror that came at the first glimpse of his face.

“Who is it?” Angie stomped on the gas. She did a U-turn in the middle of the road and sped away in the opposite direction.

Hannah peeked over the top of the seat behind them. “He’s turning around to follow us!”

Angie accelerated. “Is it Reece?”

“Yes.” Hannah barely breathed. “Go back to town, and we’ll go to Matt.” She glanced behind them. Reece had nearly caught up to them. “Get out of here!” The tan truck stayed on their trail. “There’s a little lane around the next curve. It goes across a covered bridge. There’s a thick hedge on the other side. Maybe we can hide there.”

Angie held to the wheel with both hands. “Call Matt!” The car went airborne over a hump in the road, but Angie maintained control.

Hannah grabbed for her purse and dug out her cell phone. “The battery’s dead!”

“Get mine.”

Hannah looked around for her friend’s bag. “Where’s your purse?”

Angie groaned. “It’s in the trunk.”

They crested the hill, and Hannah kept her gaze glued on the truck behind them. She lost sight of it as they went down the hill. “Right there,” Hannah said, pointing out the narrow lane.

Angie spun the steering wheel, and the car plunged down the overgrown road. They entered the covered bridge, the dark coolness a haven. The tires rumbled over the wooden planks. Then they were out the other side. Still no sign of the truck. Hannah directed Angie to the thick copse of trees and shrubs where she used to play with her siblings.

Angie ran the windows down and turned the key to off. The sound of the engine died, and Hannah heard the chatter of birds overhead and, in the distance, the whine of a vehicle tearing down the hill. She caught her breath and waited. Would he notice the turnoff? He’d grown up around here too, and he might remember this place.

She opened the car door and peered through the foliage hiding them. A flash of metal showed through the other side of the covered bridge. A tire thunked on wood. “He’s coming!” Panic closed her throat, and she looked wildly around for some place to hide.

“Get back in the car! I’ll get us out of here.” Angie started the car.

Hannah jumped back inside and closed the door with as little sound as possible. She didn’t put her seat belt on in case she would have to jump and run to escape Reece. The thought of him laying hands on her again made her head swim. She pushed away the weakness. Never again would she let a man hurt her like he had.

Holding her breath, she watched the truck rumble past up the narrow dirt road. Maybe he thought they’d cut through to the other road that way. “Hang on,” she said. “Maybe he won’t see us.” But even as she spoke, she saw his brake lights flash. “He’s spotted us!”

Angie accelerated away from their hiding spot and back onto the covered bridge. “You sure this bridge is built to take us running back and forth?” she muttered.

Plunging into the river would be better than facing Reece again. Hannah turned in her seat to peer behind them. “Yes.” Would she ever really escape him?

The car emerged from the bridge into the sunlight. “Back to town,” she said. “Let’s try to make it to the jail.”

Angie’s speedometer hit seventy by the time they crested the hill. The truck followed them, gaining every second.

“Faster!” Hannah cried. Her pulse battered the flesh in her throat. It seemed inevitable that she would have to face Reece. Maybe now was the time.

“I’ve got the accelerator clear to the floor.”

The city limit was just ahead. “We’re almost there.”

The truck gained on them until their bumpers were almost touching. Angie made a sharp turn down the street toward Matt’s office, even running a red light. The truck didn’t manage the turn, though the tires squealed as it tried. Angie turned at the next street and wove around until they were in front of the jail.

Just as she slammed on the brakes and parked, Reece’s truck came from a side street. He pulled in behind them and ran his window down. “Are you okay, hon? We need to talk,” he called. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

Hannah’s hands shook, and she trembled all over. She threw open the door and tottered out. Breathing deeply, she tried to gather enough strength to run into the building. She couldn’t bear to look at his face.

The car door slammed behind her, then Angie was at her side, taking her elbow. “Let’s get inside.” She turned and faced Reece. “I’ve gotten a restraining order on you—get out of here before you’re arrested.”

Hannah dared a peek at him. He had a beard coming in. It was about an inch long. Was it to give weight to his lie about converting to the Amish faith? She could see the slash of dark suspenders against the white shirt he wore.

He waved and accelerated out of the parking lot. “You’ll have to talk to me sooner or later, Hannah.” The words rang through the open window before his tires squealed on the pavement and the truck zoomed away.

Hannah’s shaking began to wane, and anger took its place. He couldn’t do this to her, not anymore. Men like Reece always got away with their crimes. And she could have kicked herself now that it was over. She’d let her fear drive her. If only she’d mastered it and confronted him, maybe she would know more about the little girl. She needed to find some backbone.

MATT STUDIED THE women. Both were clearly shaken. Hannah was pale, and she stood twisting her hands together. Tears pooled in her eyes. Even her friend Angie paced the sidewalk, her black hair bouncing and her brows drawn together as though she wanted to bite someone.

She stopped and pointed a red-tipped finger at him. “So, Officer, what are you going to do to protect Hannah from that madman?”

He thought about correcting her. Detective. He’d fought hard for that title. “I’ll put out a warrant for his arrest, bring him in, and talk to him.”

“Talk to him? What good will that do? Talk rolls off the back of a man like him. You’re just protecting him because he’s one of you!”

Matt spread his hands out, palms up. “He’s not one of us. We’ll bring him in and tell him he can’t break the restraining order.” His gut said Hannah needed protection. He had one dead body, and he didn’t want another murder on his desk. “I’ll arrange for a car to drive by.” Besides, he wanted Reece out of commission and as far away from Caitlin as possible.

Hannah tipped up her chin. “Surveillance isn’t going to stop Reece.” Ajax pressed against her leg and whined. She rubbed his ears, and her shoulders relaxed.

“It might discourage him,” Blake put in. He put his pen away.

She shook her head. “He has total contempt for law enforcement. He thinks he’s above it all because he was a deputy himself once.”

Maybe he still was. “What’s he doing now?”

“Last I heard he was a guard for a big corporation in Detroit. He lost his job on the police force there after he beat up a drunk. If it’s true he joined the Amish church in a district in Shipshewana—which I doubt—he would have to be doing something else.”

“Do you believe him?” he asked her.

She didn’t answer right away. When he thought she was going to refuse to talk about it, she finally gave a tiny shrug. “I don’t want to believe him, but he might have.”

“Why would he do that?” The man Matt knew hated being told what to do. Matt couldn’t see Reece taking orders from a bishop.

“He thinks it would add to the pressure to make me go back to him.”

Matt didn’t ask her if the pressure would work. The torment on her face made it clear that such a circumstance would make her decision harder. “So where are you staying? You still at your aunt’s?”

“Yes, but I don’t want to bring more trouble on her head. She has enough with her son’s murder and the Molotov cocktail last night.” Hannah glanced down the street. “I could stay at the bed-and-breakfast out at the maple farm.”

“Too remote. And it’s probably not good to stay with your aunt either. She’s in the middle of nowhere too.” He thought for a minute. His rental cottage was one block over with plenty of nosy neighbors. It was empty right now. Digging in his pocket, he pulled out his keys. “I own a rental close to the station. There are two bedrooms and neighbors who would shoot an intruder on sight. You can stay there.”

She shifted from one foot to the other and looked down at the keys in his hand. “Thank you. I’ll pay you for it.”

“It will only be a few days.” He pressed the key into her hand. “It’s over on Water Street. 303. White with blue shutters. Wait, I’d better go with you so the neighbors don’t call me to tell me someone has broken into the place.” He walked to his SUV, then got Ajax loaded in the back.

“Hope you know what you’re doing, partner,” Blake said.

“You got any other ideas?”

“She’s not your responsibility. We do the best we can.”

Matt shot him a look of disgust. “And maybe get another dead body. I don’t understand what’s happening yet, but I intend to.”

Blake shrugged. “We can’t play bodyguard for everyone.”

“You’re all heart, Blake.” But what did he expect from a guy who would cheat on his wife? He pushed away the thought of his lies to Hannah. That was different. “Follow me,” he told the women. He got in his vehicle, then waited until they climbed back into their car before leading them the short distance to his house.

Parking in front, he saw that the grass needed to be cut and the shutters could use a new coat of paint. Funny how he hadn’t noticed until he was bringing guests. He let Ajax out, and the dog raced to sniff at the other car’s wheels.

Hannah got out of the car, and her gaze swept the house. “It’s charming.” She sounded surprised.

“I’ll let you in.” He opened the gate to the picket fence and walked to the door, which he unlocked and pushed open. “After you.” The women stepped past him into the foyer. He’d just cleaned it on his day off in hopes of renting it, and he could still smell the Lysol in the air. “Where’s your luggage?”

“At my aunt’s.”

“I’ll go get it for you. I don’t want Reece following you here.” His mind still raced about how to hide Caitlin now that he knew Hannah was looking for her. And what was Reece’s game? By now Reece knew where his sister lived. At least she lived with a sheriff’s detective.

“Oh, my cats are there too.” Hannah bit her lip. “I—I should probably go back there instead.”

“Cats? I hate cats.” The thought of the sneaky creatures strolling through his house made him wince. “Can’t your aunt keep them for you while you stay here?”

“She just lost her son. I don’t want her to have to worry about them. I need them with me. It will take Reece a while to figure out where we are.”

“If he’s as guilty as you say he is, he might have been the one to throw the Molotov cocktail through the window. Just how many of them are there?”

“Four.”

At least she had the grace to look a bit ashamed. “You have plenty of litter? And food?”

“Yes, I brought all their things with me. The stuff is at my aunt’s too.”

Now that he looked a little closer, he saw that her eyes were almost catlike. The golden brown color and the almond shape reminded him of a tabby’s eyes. As he’d often told Caitlin. He shoved the thought away. “I’ll go get the felines. They can stay here.”

“Are you sure? Will Ajax be okay with them?”

Ajax looked up at the mention of his name and came to sit at Matt’s feet. “I’ll leave him here for now. Anyway, Ajax loves cats. It’s his one flaw.”

She smiled then, and he thought she should do it more often. The flash of white teeth and the light in her eyes made him smile back in spite of the way he wished he could boot out the felines.

“Maybe I should go with you. They’ll be out of sorts in a strange place without me around.”

He knew the feeling. Leaving the two women in his house made him want to stalk around and swish his tail too—if he had one. “I can handle it. I don’t want him watching your aunt’s house and following you back here.”

He stopped to get Blake to help, then drove out to the Honeggers’. Buggies still lined the road and the driveway. “I wish we had something new to tell Mrs. Honegger,” he told Blake as he parked and got out. He nodded to several Amish men sitting around smoking on the front porch. Another woman came to the door when he knocked, then Mrs. Honegger pushed through the crowd to step out onto the porch with him and Blake.

“May I help you?” she asked.

“I apologize we don’t have any news yet, ma’am.”

“We wait on the Lord’s will, son.”

“We plan to see justice done, Mrs. Honegger. I’ll track down the killer.”

“When you do, let me know. I need to go to his family.”

Did she plan a tongue-lashing? “Why do you want to see his family, ma’am?”

“I will accept this from the Lord’s hand, young man. I’ve already forgiven the one who did this, and I want to comfort his family.”

Matt didn’t understand how she could be so calm and accepting of what had happened, but her attitude intrigued him. “I’m here for another reason. Your niece and her friend were followed today by Reece O’Connor. And someone tried to run Hannah down in the buggy on her way to the grave site. I’m having them stay at a home close to the sheriff’s station.”

Mrs. Honegger put her hand to her mouth. “Hannah! Is she all right?”

“She’s fine. She escaped without incident.”

“Oh dear. I need to talk to Hannah, explain what’s happening.” The woman literally wrung her hands. “I should never have sent her the picture.”

“Tell me, do you know who threw the explosive through your window?”

She looked up at him, her brow smoothing. “I’ll talk to Hannah. It’s not your concern. It’s a family matter.”

“If you know something, it’s your duty to tell me.”

“I’ll talk to Hannah only.”

He scribbled down the address and phone number where Hannah was staying. “Here’s her contact information. Don’t wait too long. I believe she’s in danger.” He pressed it into her hand. “I’m here to get her luggage and cats.”

Relief flooded her face. “They’ve dug up my flower bed trying to get some poor chipmunk.”

“You let them outside?” He had a vision of trying to corral four cats. It wasn’t pretty.

“I had no choice. They stood at the door and meowed until I wanted to cry.” She stepped through the door, and he followed. “Their carriers are on the back porch.”

He saw them stacked in the corner. “I’ll get them.” He grabbed two. Might as well get started. One black cat with white paws sat licking its paws in the flower bed. He approached with caution. “Hey there, kitty.” The animal looked up with obvious disdain in its green eyes. Matt set the animal containers on the ground and opened the doors. “Want to go see Hannah?” He rolled his eyes at his own stupidity. Like the dumb things could understand.

To his surprise, the feline gave one last lick, then calmly walked into the closest cage and curled into a ball. He clicked the door into place before the cat could change its mind. Glancing around, he spied a white cat under a blooming crabapple tree. He scooped up the second carrier and walked toward the cat. The animal scampered away and leaped onto a branch about face high, where it hunkered down among the white blossoms that gave off a sweet scent.

He set the cage down, then scooped up the cat. It meowed and squirmed, but he managed to stuff it inside and get the gate closed. When he turned around, Blake came toward him with the other carriers.

“I’ve got them,” he said.

Matt caught a glimpse of a calico face and a ginger tabby. At least he didn’t have to chase them down. Once they loaded the cats and the girls’ luggage in the SUV, he nodded toward the woods. “Let’s take another look around while we’re here.” He ran the windows down and headed out back.

The crime scene tape still marked off the area in the clearing. He ducked under it and glanced at the spot where they’d found the body. The technicians would have gone over that area with a fine-tooth comb. But maybe something else was here. Birds scolded from overhead as the men picked their way through the underbrush.

He caught a glimpse of movement between the leaves. “Hey!” he yelled.

A man’s face peered through the foliage. Ruddy cheeks bloomed above his black beard laced with gray. Matt guessed him to be about forty. Dressed in jeans and a bright red shirt to alert hunters to his presence, he stepped from the concealing bushes and came toward them with a backpack slung over one shoulder and a GPS unit in the other. A woman about the same age followed. Her jeans had muddy patches on the knees, and she wore a red long-sleeved blouse. Her long hair, streaked with white, held twigs and leaves. A plethora of patches covered their vests.

Once he got nearer, Matt recognized the man as the geocacher who’d found Moe’s body. Kevin Brainerd.

“Is there a problem, Detective?” Kevin asked. He stood with his feet planted apart.

“You live near here?” Matt asked.

Kevin shook his head. “Me and my wife”—he thrust a thumb at the woman—“we got a place on the other side of the county.”

“I’m surprised you’re back over here considering what you found the other day.”

Kevin shifted and glanced at his wife. “With all the hoopla, we never found the cache we were looking for.”

“Did you know the victim?” Matt asked.

Another quick glance at his wife. “Well, we bought vegetables from his mom every summer, and we talked to him occasionally.”

“Find your cache this time?”

Kevin smiled then. “Yep. A nice assortment of coins and DVDs. We took a coin and left a shirt patch.” He pointed to a patch on the shoulder of his shirt. “Had them specially made.”

“All right, then, stay clear of the taped-off area.”

“Yes, sir.” The two headed north, away from the meadow.

Matt turned to Blake. “If they found the cache, what are they still doing here?”