Plain Secrets. Kit Wilkinson. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Kit Wilkinson
Издательство: HarperCollins
Серия: Mills & Boon Love Inspired Suspense
Жанр произведения: Короткие любовные романы
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9781408995181
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years. Thomas, I hope you’ll accept my advice to have Detective Miller stay on at the farm for a day or two. Losing one of you has been hard enough. And with the incident that occurred today, I cannot turn a blind eye.”

      Thomas and Eli looked uncomfortably at each other.

      Eli had about as much desire to stay at the Nolts’ as Thomas had for him to be his guest. But from the way McClendon was behaving, it seemed as if the alternative was to have a patrol car on the farm, and neither McClendon nor Thomas would have any part of that. Eli tried to hide his skepticism. The Lancaster County Police Department was a large organization. It was hard to believe there wasn’t one trustworthy individual among its ranks to work with the Amish. As far as Eli was concerned, McClendon, Hannah and Thomas were all hiding something, and he intended to find out what that was. How the governor fit into all of this he couldn’t even imagine.

      At dinner, he had not gleaned much new information. But one thing was certain—they all knew Jessica’s death was no accident. There was an undercurrent of fear riding through the house.

      Thomas frowned. “I made a mistake to leave Hannah alone at the house today. It will not happen again, I assure you both.”

      The chief nodded. “I know you’ll make every effort to take care of your own. And normally, I wouldn’t press my ways on you. But I’m asking you this one time to keep Mr. Miller close. He’s got a phone and a radio and—”

      “And a gun,” Thomas finished his sentence.

      “And a gun.” The chief nodded and turned toward his car. “I’ll check with you tomorrow, Detective.” He stepped into his squad car and drove away.

      Don’t call us, we’ll call you, Eli thought. Thanks, Chief. What was that? No explanation of the pictures. No mention of what had happened to the girl’s clothing. No hint of a theory as to who had been behind the shooting earlier.

      As the Lancaster chief drove away, the tension between Thomas and Elijah returned in full. They stood in silence on opposite ends of the porch.

      “I didn’t ask for this case,” Eli said at length. “But now that it has been assigned to me, I intend to see it through.”

      “Meaning what exactly?” Thomas glared back at him.

      “Meaning I’ll be around for a few days asking questions about Jessica, about her friends and about her death.”

      “Questions to Hannah? Questions about Hannah?” Thomas folded his arms over his chest, making him seem even larger than he already was.

      “I’ll be asking questions of all of you.” Eli shifted his weight. “It is what I do. Solve crimes. Find the bad guys. I don’t want to be here any more than you want me here. So if you want to make my stay shorter, then tell me what happened to Jessica so I can do my job and get out of here.”

      “And what if there are not any bad guys, as you say?” Thomas said. “What if Jessica’s death was an accident?”

      “I find that a little hard to swallow after what happened this afternoon. I’m pretty sure you do, too. Look, I had planned to stay at the bed-and-breakfast. You’re clearly uncomfortable with—”

      “No.” Thomas put his hand up stiffly. “It will not be said that I did not protect my family. Come. I will show you where you will stay tonight…in the horses’ stable.”

      * * *

      Hannah could not sleep. The sound of bullets zipped through her brain. The crash of glass breaking. The cold feel of Jessica’s hands. The black car whizzing away from the barn.

      And Elijah Miller. The warm touch of his hands on her elbow, that soft way he gazed at her—even after all these years. A softness she did not deserve. She’d broken his heart when she’d chosen Peter. Or so his sister, Abigail, had told her. And for what? To have a family with Peter and his daughter—a family she would lose before she turned thirty. Even though she was unable to birth children, she’d wanted so badly to be a mother. She couldn’t have known how it would end. But not once had she regretted her choice in Peter. He had been a wonderful husband and Dat and friend.

      She noticed, too, that Elijah seemed happy in his choice not to take vows. Still he had sat so comfortably at the dinner table among them—despite the awkwardness with Thomas. He’d put his weapon away and eaten a king’s portion of her cooking. That was most pleasing to her. He had talked freely about his work. And what work he did! She couldn’t imagine the frightening things he faced in the outside world. She could never…

      Under streams of white moonlight, Hannah stared through her small window down the path to where Eli slept in the horses’ stable. Thomas was a bear for making him sleep out in the cold. Although the way Mama Ruth snored, Eli might find it a kindness not to be in the house with them.

      What truly wasn’t right was that Elijah still had not been told anything about Jessica’s death and the black car. He was not stupid. He knew they weren’t telling him everything. And while she did believe that God wanted them to accept what had happened to Jessica, she also believed that there could be good in discovering the truth—if it kept her safe, if it saved another from Jessica’s fate. As Elijah had pointed out to her earlier, there was good in the work of the police. It was not merely to pass judgment and serve vengeance. They were there to protect, as well.

      That’s why tomorrow she would talk to Thomas and convince him to tell Elijah the whole story of the black car, the change of clothes, the bloodstains and the intruder in the barn.

      Elijah, who after all these years still made her heart race. He’d grown even more handsome since she’d seen him last—stronger, taller. When he’d arrived at the front of the house, her heart had nearly flipped inside her chest. He’d looked so fine and fancy in the tight-collared shirt and jeans. And those huge blue eyes of his had always muddled her thoughts. What fun they had had together so long ago. How quick he had always been to make her smile.

      The groan of wood bending sounded from the stairwell. Hannah sat up quickly and held in her breath. Someone was on the stairs. Who could it be? They’d all gone to bed hours ago.

      She listened, but Ruth’s snores filled the air again and there was nothing else to be heard. Maybe it was Thomas? He usually slept in Dawdi Haus, but he wasn’t much of a sleeper. He could be up checking on things. And, really, who could sleep with all that snoring?

      Hannah sighed and pulled the covers over her shoulders. Thomas was a good man and very protective of those he loved. She knew that he cared for her, as she did for him. He was sweet to offer her marriage. But something had kept her from giving him an answer to his proposal. Today, after seeing Eli Miller, she couldn’t help wondering if her hesitation had something to do with racing pulses and easy smiles.

      Should that matter, Lord? Should the shivers and chills a man gives us with a glance make a difference to our hearts?

      She didn’t know. Truth be told she’d forgotten all about those kinds of feelings. Until today.

      I must be the silliest woman on the earth to wonder such things, she scolded herself. I know what matters, Lord. That I serve You in all I say and do.

      She doubted that included thoughts of Elijah Miller and his blue jeans. Goodness. What had gotten into her head? It wasn’t as if she and Elijah could ever be together. He was an outsider. She’d be shunned by the People—never allowed to return, or have a meal with them, or pray, or even speak with them. She would never even consider such a thing… .

      Anyway, Elijah Miller wasn’t interested in her. Ach! He’d shown nothing but disdain at being back in Willow Trace. Her thoughts must be the result of a tired mind.

      It was late. She needed sleep. Without Jessica, she had twice as much work to do around the house. Hannah closed her eyes tight. But still sleep did not come. In between the rhythmic crescendos of Nana Ruth’s loud expirations, Hannah heard the downstairs floorboards creak again. She sat up again and fumbled on the nightstand until she found her small candle and lit it. Should she go downstairs?