Kitabı oku: «Amish Safe House»

ONE

“I have your new identities.” US Marshal Jonathan Mast sat across the table from Julia in the hotel, situated on the outskirts of Philadelphia, where she and her children had been holed up for the last five days. He was a pensive man with a dark beard and equally dark eyes.

“The night of the shooting I asked you to be patient, Mrs. Bradford, and you have been, which we all appreciate.” He glanced at the two other marshals at the table. Both Stacy Porter, slender and focused on her job, and Karl Adams, more laid-back with an easy smile, nodded in agreement.

Julie didn’t feel patient. She felt frustrated and stir-crazy. Keeping her children content in a two-room suite had been a challenge. Plus, she was scared to death about their safety.

The Philadores wanted to kill William so he wouldn’t testify against their leader. As much as Julia didn’t trust law enforcement, she had to rely on the US Marshals and their witness protection program to keep her family safe. No wonder her nerves were stretched thin. She had slept little over the last four nights, and the nagging headache and dark circles under her eyes were proof of her struggle to maintain some semblance of normalcy in her children’s lives.

As efficient as Marshal Mast seemed, he failed to realize how antsy kids could be without sunshine and fresh air. Fortunately, Stacy and Karl had seemed more empathetic. Both in their early thirties, they had played games with William and Kayla and had provided pizza and colas and an abundance of snacks. But even a diet of junk food got old.

“We’re ready to transport you and the children,” Jonathan Mast continued. “We’ll fly into Kansas City tonight, then drive to Topeka and north to Yoder.”

“What’s in Kansas?”

“What’s not there is more important. Kansas is one of the few states where the Philadores don’t have a strong presence. As I’ve mentioned previously, Frankie Fuentes is a killer. He runs drugs, has his hand in prostitution, trafficking and illegal gambling. Three weeks ago, he gunned down two cops in cold blood. No witnesses and no way to bring him to justice. Your son saw him kill Oscar de la Rosa. William’s testimony will send Fuentes to jail for a long time.”

Jonathan pulled out his phone and accessed a photograph. He handed the cell to Julia. “Abraham King will watch over you in Kansas.”

Julia studied the picture. The man looked to be in his midthirties with a square face and deep-set eyes beneath dark brows. His nose appeared a bit off center, as if it had been broken. Lips pulled tight, and no hint of a smile on his angular face.

“Mr. King doesn’t look happy.”

Jonathan shrugged. “Law enforcement photos are never flattering.”

Her stomach tightened. “He’s a cop?”

“Past tense. He left the force three years ago.”

Once a cop, always a cop. Her ex had been a police officer. He protected others but failed to show that same sense of concern when it came to his own family. After Charlie, she wanted nothing to do with men in uniform.

The marshal seemed oblivious to her unease.

“Abe is an old friend,” Jonathan continued. “A widower from my police-force days who owns a farm and has a spare house on his property. He lives in a rural Amish community.”

“Amish?”

“That’s right.”

“Bonnets and buggies?” she asked.

He smiled weakly. “You’ll be off the grid, Mrs. Bradford. No one will look for you there. If anyone asks, you’ll be working as Abraham’s housekeeper, at least until the trial.”

“Has a date been set?”

“Not yet. Everything takes time.”

Julia tried to get her mind around a new identity in a new state. She didn’t understand the Amish connection, but she was okay with anything that meant William and Kayla would be safe.

“My ex-husband...”

She glanced into the adjoining bedroom where William was watching a sporting event on ESPN. Kayla stood nearby and pretended to feed her doll.

Julia lowered her voice. “My ex-husband won’t know of our whereabouts?”

“That’s correct.”

“He won’t be able to find us,” she repeated, needing the reassurance she hoped the marshal would provide.

“No one will find you, ma’am.”

“William will be safe in Kansas?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“As you probably know, my husband was a cop.” She glanced again at the photo. “I’m... I’m hesitant to rely on someone with that background. Do you know why Mr. King was forced to resign?”

Jonathan stiffened. “Abraham had a stellar record with law enforcement, Mrs. Bradford.”

“I didn’t mean to imply...” She held up her hand. “I’m just worried about the safety of my children. They come first.”

“Of course they do, but let me assure you, their safety, as well as yours, is our top priority.”

He retrieved his phone from her outstretched hand and tucked it into his pocket. “Abraham put a criminal in jail who wanted payback after he was paroled. The guy planted an explosive device in Abe’s car. The next morning, his wife tried to drive their daughter to daycare. The car exploded, and his wife and four-year-old child were killed.”

The marshal’s matter-of-fact disclosure of the tragedy hit Julia hard. She glanced down at the table, fighting back tears that welled up in her eyes at the senseless loss of life. “I’m sorry.”

Jonathan nodded. “It was a tough time for him, as you can imagine.”

“Did Mr. King agree to shelter us?”

“He did. Your identities and location will probably change again after William testifies, but for now, you’ll be Julia Stolz.”

“A German name.”

“Yes, ma’am. The area has a large German as well as Amish population. Stolz will fit in.”

“I don’t speak German.”

“That won’t be a problem.” He pulled a manila folder from his briefcase and placed it on the table in front of her.

“Here’s the paperwork you need for your new identities. Social security cards with new names and numbers for you and the children. Birth certificates. A high school graduation diploma for Julia Stolz.”

Jonathan glanced into the bedroom. “William and Kayla need to understand the importance of not revealing their old identities.”

Kayla wouldn’t be a problem, but William was going through a defiant stage where he rebelled against everything.

As if reading her mind, Mast added, “William needs to know that his safety as well as yours and your daughter’s depends on him agreeing to this new life.”

Julia nodded. “I’ll talk to him.”

But would he listen?

Pushing his chair back from the table, Jonathan glanced at his fellow marshals. “We’ll leave at nine tonight.”

“Why so late?” Julia asked.

“At the present time, the Philadores don’t know your whereabouts. We don’t want that to change.” He stood. “Stacy and Karl will drive you to the airport. I’ll meet you there.”

True to his word, Marshal Mast was waiting on the tarmac when Karl pulled the sedan to a stop next to the small charter plane that night.

Julia and her children were ushered onboard. Kayla fell asleep not long after the plane was airborne. William nodded off soon thereafter. Julia stared out the window, peering into the dark sky. Her head throbbed, her eyes burned and she was cold, too cold.

Stacy handed her blankets. “You’ve been very brave.”

Julia covered her children and herself with the blankets and almost laughed. Not brave, but maybe foolish to think she could outsmart the Philadores. Her eyes closed. The jerk of the plane when the wheels touched down forced them open again.

“We’ve landed.” Stacy patted Julia’s arm. “A van will take us to your final destination.”

Julia ushered her children off the plane and into the vehicle parked on the tarmac.

Karl slipped behind the wheel. Jonathan sat in the passenger’s seat, and Stacy climbed into the rear.

Kayla fell asleep again, her head on Julia’s lap. William leaned against her shoulder. Soon, he too drifted off.

Julia watched the lights of the city fade from view as they headed into the country. She quickly lost track of the twists and turns in the road and slipped into a half sleep.

A hand tapped her shoulder. “We’re almost to our destination.”

The car turned off the paved road onto a dirt drive that led to a two-story house with a porch and overhanging tin roof. A small light glowed in a downstairs window.

A second house, similar in style but a bit larger, sat not more than twenty feet away.

Stacy slipped out from the rear. “I’ll carry Kayla.” She lifted the girl into her arms.

“William, wake up.” Julia patted her son’s arm. “We’re going inside.”

He rubbed his eyes and followed her out of the van. Julia took Kayla from the marshal and then grabbed William’s hand, surprised that he didn’t balk. Most days, he objected to any show of affection.

Julia’s stomach churned. She hugged Kayla closer and gripped her son’s hand more tightly as they followed Stacy up the steps to the porch.

The door opened. A man stood backlit on the threshold. “You made good time,” he said in greeting.

“No traffic this late at night.” Marshal Mast extended his hand. The two men shook, then embraced in a back-slapping half-hug of sorts that confirmed the friendship Jonathan had mentioned.

The homeowner shook hands with the two other marshals and invited them inside. “There’s coffee. I placed ham and cheese and bread on the table, in case you’re hungry.”

He glanced at her and nodded. “Ma’am.”

Stepping inside, she narrowed her gaze and studied the sparse accommodations. A table, sideboard, a wood-burning stove. Glancing into another room, she saw two rockers, a bench, a chest of drawers and another table.

She focused again on the man who had welcomed them to his house. He wore a white shirt and trousers held up with suspenders. No collar on the shirt. No buttons. No belt. Work boots scuffed with mud. Turning she saw the pegs on the wall by the door and the black, wide-brimmed felt hat and the short black waistcoat.

She glanced at the marshals who were pouring coffee and helping themselves to the bread and cold cuts on the table. The only person who noticed her discomfort was the man whose photo she had seen earlier today. His deep-set eyes stared at her as if questioning why she was there.

Julia wanted to ask the same question. Jonathan had mentioned that Abraham was living Amish, but the stark reality of what that meant hit her like a sledgehammer. No phone, no electrical power, no technology. Off the grid, as Jonathan had mentioned, was an understatement. Plus, the Amish were pacifists. If they didn’t believe in violence or raising a hand against another, then what if the Philadores discovered where she and her children were hiding?

Her heart sank as she looked at the tall man with the questioning gaze. A former cop who didn’t fit the law enforcement model. No matter what Jonathan claimed, she didn’t see how Abraham King could protect her and her children if he was Amish.

* * *

Abraham had made a mistake. As much as he owed Jonathan, he never should have agreed to bring a woman into his life.

Losing everyone he had ever loved had taken him to the brink of despair. Jonathan had saved him and brought him back to life, a life of hard work and isolation. A life without a woman to stir up memories of Marianne and their precious little girl, Becca. His breath caught as he thought of the pain that never seemed to end.

Surely Jonathan would understand if Abraham backed out of their agreement. Then he glanced at Julia. Too thin, too afraid, too lost. He knew the signs of a person holding on by a whisper. He had been that person three years ago.

The boy standing next to her was tall and gangly, as if a growth spurt had caught him unawares. His brown eyes, like his mother’s, peered warily at the three marshals gathered around the table. The kid looked tired and confused and ready to bolt if given the chance.

“His dad’s doing time,” Jonathan had shared. “Wouldn’t take much for the kid to follow in his father’s footsteps from what we know. You’re the family’s last hope, Abraham.”

Abraham sighed. How could he turn his back on a woman and two children in such need?

“The bedrooms are upstairs.” Abraham stepped toward her. “I can show you the way. Perhaps the children would like to go to sleep.”

“I’m sure they would.” Clutching her daughter in her arms, she nodded to her son, and the weary threesome followed Abraham up the stairs.

Carrying an oil lamp to light the way, he chastised himself for not placing a lit lamp in each of the bedrooms. Darkness could be frightening, especially to children in new surroundings.

He opened the first door on the right. “I thought your daughter could sleep here.”

The woman hesitated a moment and stared at the furnishings. A single bed, small dresser, and a side table with a water pitcher and basin.

She moved into the room, pulled back the covers and laid her little girl on the bed. Quickly, she removed Kayla’s shoes and covered her with a quilt.

Abraham glanced down at the child’s blond hair and chubby cheeks. A knife stabbed his heart as Becca’s face filled his vision. He turned away and headed to the door.

“William, your mother will sleep across the hall. The room next door is for you.” Thankfully, the boy followed.

“I will leave the lamp in the hallway.”