Love Inspired Suspense September 2015 #1 (35 page)

Rebecca whirled around and playfully whacked her friend with a menu. “Shush.”

“You shush.” Flo reached out and squeezed Rebecca's hand. “It's time things turned around for you.”

* * *

“Go ahead, I'll lock up,” Rebecca said to Flo at the end of their shift a few days later. She had sent her girls to stay overnight at Mark and Gloria's house. Even though Rebecca hated to have her daughters away at night, she knew playing with their cousins afforded a wonderful distraction. They needed a stable home environment.

Jake's conversation came to mind again. The girls could use a father in their lives. A loving father.

Neh, neh, neh.
If Jake decided to become Amish, it had to be for the right reasons.

“No, no, I'll stay and help.” Flo dumped the remainder of the coffee down the drain.

“Go.” Rebecca scooted in next to her, took the carafe from her hand and set it on the counter. She'd wash it in a minute. “I know you wanted to get home to watch your TV program. Go.”

“Ah, you say that like it's a bad thing.” Flo tilted her head and gave Rebecca a sad smile. Rebecca didn't know how to respond anymore. It seemed lately everyone watched her with an air of pity. At least when the tourists came to town in full force next summer, she could go back to playing her stereotypical Amish role. She could at least meet someone's expectations.

Met real-live Amish woman.
Check.

“Are your girls staying with their aunt and uncle again tonight?”

Rebecca wiped the counter down.
“Yah.”
Even though she hated to admit it, she felt safer knowing they were with Mark and his family. Until she cleared Samuel's name and found out who was growing marijuana on her farm, things wouldn't feel safe there.

She scrubbed the carafe a little more vigorously than necessary, trying to hold back her emotions.

Flo gestured with her chin toward the last table. “Want me to tell him it's time to pack it in?” she asked in a protective tone. “I don't know why those college kids have to hog our tables to do their schoolwork when there's a perfectly good library on campus, right?”

Rebecca shrugged. She had only been on the local campus once, and after being attacked she didn't plan on going back anytime soon.

“The customer's fine. I'll give him a few more minutes while I clean up.”

“As long as you're sure.”

Rebecca watched her friend remove her apron, drape it over her arm and slip out the front door, the bells clacking on the glass.

Rebecca organized things to make startup easier for the first shift. She glanced up and the young man was still sitting there, his back to her, she supposed, to gain a better view out the window.

She flicked off a few lights, figuring he'd take a hint without her having to ask him to leave. Confrontation had never been her strong suit. She tidied up a few more things, then peeked into the dining room through the service window. The young man was no longer sitting in the corner booth. A hint of relief swept through her. Problem solved.

Rebecca strode to the front door and turned the key in the lock. She paused a minute and stared over the darkened street. Her haunted expression stared back at her. Would her life ever calm down? Would she ever find the peace she once enjoyed living on an Amish farm?
Before
she'd married Willard. She longed for it, but she knew she had to be humble and trust in God's plan.

She set the keys on the edge of the counter when she realized she'd forgotten to empty the orange-handled decaf carafe sitting on the warmer in the far corner.

A scraping sound—the sound of someone dragging keys across the counter—made her swing around. Her heart stopped at the strange expression on the young man's face.

“Hello, Mrs. Fisher.”

“Hello...Tommy.”
Jake's assistant.
Her gaze dropped to the keys in his hand.
Her keys.
“I didn't realize you were still here.” She lifted a shaky hand to the corner booth. “I didn't realize that was you in the booth.”

“I was in the little boy's room.”

She held her hand out for her keys. “I'll let you out.”

Tommy pressed the keys between his palms and pulled them close to his chest. “You want me to leave?” His mocking tone sent terror racing through her veins.

“Um, yes...” She drew her elbows in close to her sides.
It's Tommy. Jake's assistant. He's harmless.
Dread tightened like a band around her lungs. “We're closed for the night,” she said, a little more forcefully.

Tommy pivoted to look out the front window, then turned back to her, a brazen expression on his face. “Shame. I have more studying to do.”

“Where are your books?”

He gestured with his head toward a backpack resting on the floor near a booth.

“I'm sorry. The diner is closed.” Rebecca clasped her hands in front of her as she struggled to rein in her frantic emotions. Something was off.

“I know.” Tommy made no effort to move toward the front door. “I'm not ready to leave.” He tossed the keys from one hand to the other; each time they landed in his hand with a loud jangle of metal.

Rebecca wiped her sweat-slicked palms on her cotton skirt. She held out her hand again, determined to be more forceful. “I need my keys,
please
.”

An oily smile slid across Tommy's lips and he made no effort to offer her the keys.

Rebecca forced a shaky smile, trying to hide her nerves. “I need the keys to unlock the door to let you out.”

Tommy lifted the keys and tossed them well past her. Rebecca spun round. The keys crashed into a framed football jersey from a long-ago high school state championship team and clunked onto the ground.

The words
why are you doing this?
froze on her lips as a cold chill swept over every inch of her skin.

Rebecca ran around the counter to put a barrier between her and Tommy. She glanced over her shoulder to the kitchen, but the back door to the alley was locked and she needed the key to unlock it. Same went for the front door.

Tommy slowly walked toward her. “I have good news and I have bad news. Which would you like first?”

Rebecca shook her head in disbelief. “You need to leave. I have to close the diner,” she repeated.

“Okay, I'll give you the good news.” He dragged his hand across his mussed hair. “Samuel was telling the truth. He wasn't involved with the drugs at all.” A light lit his eyes in a way that sent terror pumping through her veins. “
I
was the one who recruited your Amish farmhands into helping me grow marijuana on your land.”

Rebecca stared at Tommy in disbelief, her vision narrowing and tiny dots dancing in her eyes.

“Don't you want to know the bad news?” His lips thinned into a line and he shook his head slowly. “You won't be able to tell anyone because I'm going to kill you.”

FIFTEEN

J
ake walked across campus to grab a bite to eat before heading home. The school kept the student union open late for hungry students. A half carton of expired milk and a mushy cucumber were probably the only things waiting for him in his refrigerator at home.

When Jake reached the student union, he noticed the news station blaring on the wall TV. He slowed when he saw the news truck on a country road in front of a familiar home.

The laughter of students at a nearby table dulled to a distant din. He moved closer to the television. Jake glanced around the mostly empty dining room. No one except the young woman reading a novel bothered to look up occasionally at the screen.

“...As you may remember, this is the home of Willard Fisher, the Amish fanatic who killed his Amish neighbors to protect the Amish way of life. Now his son, Samuel Fisher, has been arrested for growing marijuana on this very land.”

The well-groomed blonde newscaster angled her body and held out her hand to gesture to the land behind her.

“The whole situation is ironic, Jim, considering his father
killed
to preserve the Amish ways, yet his own son has turned to what the Amish would call worldly ways.”

Jake plowed his hand through his hair and sagged against the half wall that separated the TV area from the rest of the cafeteria.

“Who alerted the news?” Jake muttered to himself.

A well-coiffed man with shiny black hair filled the screen, a serious look on his face.
“Have you been able to get a comment from his stepmother, Rebecca Fisher?”

The screen split in two and the reporter appeared again, her fingers pressed to her earpiece.
“No, Jim. Not yet. No one is home at the residence. We hope to catch Mrs. Fisher when she returns.”
She smiled brightly and Jake's stomach dropped at the ghoulishness of their voyeurism.

“Excuse me,” an annoyed voice came from behind Jake.

Jake glanced over his shoulder at a young woman craning her head to see around him. “Oh, sorry.”

Jake checked his watch. It was getting late, but if he hurried, he could catch Rebecca at the diner before she went home for the night. He didn't want her to get a camera in her face in her front yard.

But more important, he wanted to be there for Rebecca. She might not want to admit it, but she was the closest thing to family that he had.

* * *

Tommy was behind the drugs!

Rebecca's pulse thrummed in her ears as she scrambled to find an escape. “
Please
, don't hurt me. I have two young daughters. Without me, they'll be orphans.”

Rebecca clamped her jaw, trying to tamp down her rioting emotions. Willard's constant criticism and yelling had taught her to hide her feelings behind a mask of calm. She had been successful
most
of the time. She had learned to be a good Amish wife to keep peace in the home. But she had failed her children miserably.

“Go into the kitchen,” Tommy said, grabbing her arm.

Using the backrest of the nearest stool to anchor herself, she shook her head. She wasn't going into the kitchen where no one could see her from the street. “No.”

Tommy pulled her arm and she held tightly onto the stool with the other. Craning her neck, Rebecca glanced toward the street and her panic spiked when she realized no one was out there. No one to save her. Her fingers felt numb. She'd have to figure a way out. On her own.

For her daughters' sakes. For Samuel's. If she died, what would happen to them?

A sense of calm and determination settled over her.

“I'm not going anywhere with you.”

Tommy grunted and peered around; the dark look in his eyes chipped away at her resolve.

“Tell me why you're doing this.”

Tommy narrowed his gaze. “I wouldn't expect an uneducated Amish woman to understand, especially one who was stupid enough to marry the biggest loser in Apple Creek.”

Rebecca sucked in a gasp. Even though she had constantly said worse in her own mind, hearing someone say it out loud was like a punch to the gut.

She hiked her chin, trying to muster a confidence she didn't feel. “Willard made his own bad decisions. I had nothing to do with it.”

Tommy leaned in closer. The stale smell of coffee on his breath assaulted her nose. “He lived with you, slept in your bed and
you
didn't know what was going on?” He raised an eyebrow, a mocking glint lit his eyes.

“I didn't know what he was up to. I trusted him. Much like Professor Burke trusted you.”

“Don't try to manipulate me.”

The walls swayed and Rebecca sent up a silent prayer. “You'll go to jail for the rest of your life. You don't want that.”

Tommy lifted an eyebrow. “Your murder will be blamed on Samuel. Poor Samuel, the son of the evil Willard Fisher. Then maybe I can put some distance between me and this mess while I figure things out.”

“Samuel will tell the police you were involved with the drugs. You won't get away with it.”

“
Ha.
Samuel doesn't know I'm behind it. He only knows about the Yoder brothers. And I don't suspect they'll get involved. You know how the Amish feel about law enforcement, right? And they'd have to admit their guilt. Don't see that happening. Besides, Samuel already confessed.” He laughed again.

“Samuel's not even in Apple Creek. No one will blame him for this.”

“I'll figure something out. I always do.”

“No...” Rebecca's vision tunneled and her knees grew weak. Tommy had obviously lost his mind.

Dear Lord, help me. Give me wisdom. Let me get home to my family.

Breathe. In. Out. In. Out.

She closed her eyes briefly and Tommy came into focus. Obviously Tommy needed to be heard, otherwise he would have already hurt her. She had seen the same behavior in her husband. He liked to rant and rave and pace, forcing her to listen to his half-cocked theories. It was when she accidentally looked at him the wrong way or didn't make dinner on time that he'd lash out. He'd belittle her. Point out all her shortcomings, real or imagined.

She clung to the back of the stool tighter. “You've done well for yourself. Why did you get involved with drugs?” She had to keep him talking.

Tommy angled his head, an unreadable expression on his face. A surge of adrenaline coursed through her. Had he sensed she was patronizing him?

“I
was
making something of myself.” For a fleeting moment, he seemed smug, then his gaze snapped into focus and landed with an unnerving intensity on her. “And
you
had to ruin that.” He reared back and spit in her face.

Wincing, she lifted her shoulder and wiped the spittle from her cheek.

She struggled to swallow around a parched throat. “Did you break into my house, too?”

“I was looking for a dry place for the marijuana plants. Like your basement. But you just kept interfering.”

“You were in
my
home,” she bit out the words. “I've never done anything to you. I don't understand.”

“You wouldn't. You're satisfied with your
small
life here in Apple Creek. Working at this boring diner. You haven't been able to survive doing what your ancestors have done for years. Farm.” His lips grew pinched.

“I have a family. I have young daughters.
Please.
Leave me be.” She let go of the stool and ran toward the wall where Tommy had thrown the keys.

The sound of footsteps behind her made her pulse spike.

Please, God, let me escape.

Tommy slammed her against a nearby booth, pinning her body against the cool vinyl. He squeezed her cheeks with his rough hand. She struggled to draw in a breath, yet she bit back the sting of tears. She would
not
let him see her cry.

“You
shouldn't
have done that, crazy woman.”

The memory of Willard's harsh rebukes scraped across her brain tangling with Tommy's gruff voice. His rough touch.

“You're
not
going home.” Tommy lifted his hand, ready to strike her. “I'll kill you right here.” She closed her eyes against the rage playing out across his features. “Your daughters will be better off without you.”

The adrenaline spike made her feel both anxious and strong at the same time.

Do something! Save yourself!

Rebecca raised her arm suddenly, pushing his hand away from her face. She hip checked him and he fell on his backside, cursing her in surprise.

Rebecca bolted toward the kitchen. Her only hope now was to get to the phone on the wall next to the swinging door. She just had to dial three numbers: 9-1-1.

Icy fear pumped through her veins. Her sole focus was on the white receiver. She reached out and grabbed it.

“You ain't going anywhere.” Tommy flung the phone out of her hand and it dangled by the curly cord. The distant dial tone mocked her.

Rebecca spun around and glared at him. He stopped short of slamming into her. His eyes drew into angry slits. “Because of you, I can't afford tuition. I won't be able to continue my studies. No degree means I'm going to be no better off as an outsider than I was as a Plain person.” His face crumbled in rage. He grabbed her arms and squeezed. “Do you understand?”

“I understand that you've been terrorizing me to keep me quiet. To get me to stop asking questions.” She thought of all the incidents of late. Her campus scare. Getting run off the road. Getting attacked not once, but twice on the farm. “You have to realize I'd do anything to protect my family. To protect Samuel. Now,
get out
!”

“If Samuel hadn't started acting all weird, you wouldn't have started asking questions.” Tommy gripped her tighter and pain shot up her arms. “I want to ruin Samuel's life like he's ruined mine.”

Keep me calm, Lord. Help me.
When Tommy didn't budge, she blinked back her fear and met his harsh gaze. “Take your hands off me
now
.”

Surprisingly, Tommy dropped his hands. He muttered something under his breath she didn't understand. He paced, his movements short and jerky. She eyed the keys on the floor by the wall.

“You destroyed the marijuana crops.
You
destroyed the last bit of hope I had of making money. You ruined everything that I had carefully planned. Do you know how hard it was to find a farm I could do this on? To find Uri and Jonas, who were willing to help me?”

“There have to be other ways to pay for college.” Rebecca realized she was trying to reason with a young man who was past the point of reasoning.

“You would know this how?”

Rebecca took a step backward closer to the front door. “You can't do this. You can't hurt me. You'll end up in jail for life.”

Tommy let out an obnoxious laugh. “Yeah, right. I'm not going to jail. And if Samuel could have played it cool after he realized the Yoder brothers had planted the marijuana, no one would have been the wiser.

“Uri and Jonas tried to bribe Samuel. Keep him quiet, but—” Tommy snorted “—I think it made him feel worse. He wasn't supposed to have worldly things. They warned him to keep his mouth shut or bad things could happen. He went over the edge after Elmer died. Stupid kid. Then you started in with the questions.”

“Tommy, it's over now.” Rebecca kept her tone calm. “You must take responsibility.”

“No.” Rage vibrated off him. “I refuse to be a nobody. Without an education, without a good job, I will be as invisible as all the Plain people in this community.”

“You are not invisible,” Rebecca pleaded.

Tommy glanced down, then reached for something under the counter. The silverware bin.

Rebecca grew lightheaded.

Tommy reached into the gray container, grabbed a steak knife and held it out to her in a menacing gesture. “Move into the kitchen.
Now.
”

Rebecca slowly shook her head. “Please, I have children. Katie. Grace. You've met them. I'm all they have.”

Tommy's face scrunched up and he shook his head quickly, as if he were trying to dismiss a bad taste. His features smoothed over and he held the knife low near her side. “You will
not
use Amish guilt on me. I am not Amish.”

A knocking startled her. Tommy snapped his gaze toward the door and fear flashed in his eyes.

“It's Jake,” she breathed, relief and fear tangling in her stomach.

Tommy let out a mirthless laugh. “Jake, huh? Figures.”

“He's not going away.”

Tommy lowered the knife to hide it below the counter. There was a chance Jake hadn't seen Tommy or if he had seen him, he wouldn't realize what was going on.

Jake knocked again, this time more urgently.

“Let me answer it,” Rebecca whispered. “It's time we ended this.”

Tommy looked discreetly down at the sharp knife pointed at her delicate midsection. “Wave him off. Tell him to go home.”

Rebecca did as she was told, waving to Jake to go on home.
I have to finish up here
, she mouthed.

Every movement, every word, every motion shifted into slow motion. Rebecca felt as if she was having an out-of-body experience.

The door rattled as Jake tried to get in. “He's suspicious.” Her mind raced. “Let me get the door, please. I'll get rid of him.” She decided to change tactics.

“I'm not stupid. You have no reason to get rid of him.”

“I love Jake. I don't want him to get hurt.”

Tommy's eyes flashed dark and he tilted his chin toward the door. “Answer it. Tell him I'm here interviewing you for a research paper.”

Rebecca opened her eyes wide, a spark of hope igniting in her chest. “Okay, I will. But...what if he wants to talk to you?”

Tommy has nothing to lose.

“If you tell him what's going on, I'll kill him, then track down your daughters at your brother's house and kill them, too.”