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Plain Truth
Debby Giusti
AMISH COUNTRY SECRETSWhen widowed doctor Ella Jacobsen is attacked and left for dead in her children’s clinic, the peace she’s found in Georgia’s Amish country is shattered. Someone is after something in her clinic and wants her out of the way…but what are they looking for? Ella knows only that her life is in the hands of army special agent Zach Swain. Zach can't resist the vulnerable but headstrong Ella who stares down danger to care for the people she loves. With one look, the loner soldier goes from investigator to protector. To save Ella, he must uncover the secrets that swirl around the idyllic community. And he needs to do it fast, because Ella is running out of time.Military Investigations: Serving their country and solving crimes


AMISH COUNTRY SECRETS
When widowed doctor Ella Jacobsen is attacked and left for dead in her children’s clinic, the peace she’s found in Georgia’s Amish country is shattered. Someone is after something in her clinic and wants her out of the way...but what are they looking for? Ella knows only that her life is in the hands of army special agent Zach Swain. Zach can’t resist the vulnerable but headstrong Ella, who stares down danger to care for the people she loves. With one look, the loner soldier goes from investigator to protector. To save Ella, he must uncover the secrets that swirl around the idyllic community. And he needs to do it fast, because Ella is running out of time.
Memories of the attack assailed her.
As she dragged in a breath of fresh air, her head pounded. Overhead, geese honked. If only she could fly away from the chaos like the geese.
Movement caught her eye at the edge of the woods. An animal? Or—
She recognized the danger almost too late. Her heart lurching, she ran for the protection of her house. She tripped and fell as a sound exploded and a flowerpot shattered beside her.
Another shot, and then another.
She scrambled for the door, and Zach was there, pulling her inside to safety, his arms sure and comforting. He pulled her to the floor and slammed the door. “Stay down.”
“A man. In the woods. He had a rifle.”
She saw the tension on his face, and the realization made her tremble with fear. Last night an intruder had broken into her clinic. Today that intruder became a killer.
And the person he wanted to kill was her.
DEBBY GIUSTI is an award-winning Christian author who met and married her military husband at Fort Knox, Kentucky. Together they traveled the world, raised three wonderful children and have now settled in Atlanta, Georgia, where Debby spins tales of mystery and suspense that touch the heart and soul. Visit Debby online at debbygiusti.com (http://debbygiusti.com/), blog with her at seekerville.blogspot.com (http://seekerville.blogspot.ca/) and craftieladiesofromance.blogspot.com (http://craftieladiesofromance.blogspot.ca/), and email her at Debby@DebbyGiusti.com.
Plain Truth
Debby Giusti


www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
People were bringing children to Jesus that He might touch them, but the disciples rebuked them. When Jesus saw this He became indignant and said to them, “Let the children come to me; do not prevent them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these. Amen, I say to you, whoever does not accept the kingdom of God like a child will not enter it.” Then He embraced them and blessed them, placing His hands on them.
—Mark 10:13–16
This book is dedicated to my wonderful grandchildren,
Anna, Robert, John Anthony and William.
You fill my heart with joy!
Contents
Cover (#uaf1706ef-85cf-5d9b-8a1b-1f31e82480cf)
Back Cover Text (#u0b9ea69f-9acb-59a6-9797-a1d83f681605)
Introduction (#u54941001-2c6b-5362-8afe-27bf44893e20)
About the Author (#ufafdb09d-bb72-5e72-a628-848a6d2b8a7e)
Title Page (#ua3860fe5-da4e-5aec-9f77-c81b84c6a503)
Bible Verse (#u452da6f4-bbc0-56fb-bfe8-a1023f3a178d)
Dedication (#u08c28476-beb4-5e8a-bc01-c18f7dc73167)
ONE (#ua3a0186b-f076-5f9c-8d67-55624e1ca2ef)
TWO (#ufdaa0706-c8bd-58d9-9589-71410ebd6d3e)
THREE (#u09adb181-06ff-5bad-a34a-841b642f107c)
FOUR (#u8d929716-4b7d-5e9c-9c87-6af77104065d)
FIVE (#u58f4ca4a-63dd-5ce8-b26f-6df26dfa9c5b)
SIX (#litres_trial_promo)
SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
TEN (#litres_trial_promo)
ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)
THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
FOURTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
FIFTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
SIXTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
SEVENTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
EIGHTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
NINETEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
TWENTY (#litres_trial_promo)
EPILOGUE (#litres_trial_promo)
Dear Reader (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
ONE (#u3c6fd48a-2798-5fe2-ae78-d9cc59c656ad)
Dr. Ella Jacobsen startled with fright as a crash of thunder shook her rural medical clinic. Dropping the invitation she’d been reading for the upcoming medical symposium onto her desk, she glanced out the window as another bolt of lightning lit the night sky. Anticipating the power outage that would surely follow, Ella pulled the Maglite from the bottom drawer of her file cabinet and sighed with frustration as the lights flicked off, leaving her in darkness and fumbling with the switch on the flashlight.
If someone had warned her about how often she’d lose electricity, she might have chosen another location for the pediatric clinic. As it was, after five months, she was committed to the rural farm community near Freemont, Georgia, and to her patients, two of whom had just received IV fluids in her treatment room.
Relieved when the Maglite finally switched on, she followed the arc of light through her clinic to the hallway and peered into the room where the five-year-old twins rested comfortably. Their worry-worn mother, Mary Kate Powers, slept on the chair next to the girls, oblivious to the pummeling rain and howling wind outside.
Ella wouldn’t disturb the young mother’s sleep. Instead, she slipped into her slicker and left her clinic through the side door, heading for the generator that provided a backup power source.
Quin would have called her generator inadequate, but her deceased husband had been prone to point out any number of her shortcomings. Surely eight months after his death was time enough to cease worrying about what Quin thought.
Ella grimaced as the storm exploded around her. Lightning bolted overhead, followed almost instantly by ear-shattering thunder. Rain fell in torrents, stinging her face and drenching her hair. Too late, she pulled the hood of her coat over her head and bent into the wind as she picked her way through the sodden grass to the generator.
Tonight, the tin overhang that usually provided protection from the elements did little to stem the battering rain and buffeting wind. She grabbed the gas can out of the nearby shed and filled the generator’s tank before she flipped the fuel valve to On and pulled out the choke. After pressing the control switch, she grabbed the pull cord and yanked once, then twice.
The engine failed to engage.
She tugged on the cord again and again, then sighed.
A sound caused her to turn. Through the downpour, she watched the headlights of a car race along the two-lane road in front of her property. For half a heartbeat, she wanted to flag down the driver and beg for help. Then she steeled her shoulders and shoved out her chin with resolve. She’d come this far alone, and she wouldn’t waver in her determination to succeed. Although, in spite of her attempt to be self-reliant, a sinking feeling settled in the pit of her stomach as the car disappeared from sight.
Another bolt of lightning flashed across the sky. In the yard, the sign for the Children’s Care Clinic snapped in the wind. She was alone, other than for an exhausted mother and her two daughters in the building. Like it or not, Ella needed to solve her own problems.
Opening the oil cap, she checked the level, making certain it was adequate. Then, after adjusting the choke, she pulled on the cord again...and again...and again.
Her hand cramped with the effort. Stopping to catch her breath, she stretched her fingers and listened to a sound that floated over the storm.
Turning her gaze toward the clinic, she tilted her head as the sound came again.
Was it a cry? No, a scream!
Her heart lurched.
Grabbing the Maglite, she hurried across the slippery, rain-wet grass. Her shoes sank into a patch of Georgia red clay that grabbed like quicksand. Pulling free, she raced to the side door, shook the rain from her hair and stepped inside. Before she was halfway across the office, she stopped short. Someone else was in the room. She narrowed her gaze and raised her flashlight.
A figure bathed in shadow stood over her desk. He raised an even more powerful light that blinded her in its glare. Momentarily frozen in place, she failed to react as he raced toward her and grabbed her shoulder. The crushing strength of his hold made her legs buckle. She dropped to the floor, losing her Maglite in the fall, and crawled on hands and knees to escape his hold.
He kicked her side. She collapsed. He kicked again.
Air whooshed from her lungs.
She rolled over, and caught his foot before he could strike a third blow. Twisting his leg, she forced him off balance.
He cursed.
She grabbed his thigh above his knee and dug her nails into the tender flesh. He raised his right hand. She scooted sideways to avoid the strike, but her reflexes weren’t fast enough. His fist made contact with her neck, below her ear. Her body arched with pain.
His shadowed bulk loomed above her. He drew a weapon from his pocket, aimed and squeezed the trigger.
She screamed, expecting to be killed.
The bullet failed to discharge. Again he tried. And again.
Lightning slashed outside, but all she saw was the glare of his flashlight and the gun that refused to fire.
He growled like an animal, a monster who wanted her dead. Raising his hand, he hurled the weapon against her skull. She screamed in pain, then slipped into darkness, surrounded by a cushion of oblivion.
Thoughts of her patients dragged her back to reality. She blinked her eyes open and listened to his footsteps moving away from her. A door slammed, then another wave of oblivion overtook her. When she came to, panic grabbed at her throat. Worried about Mary Kate and the girls, she knew she had to get help.
Ella inched toward the desk, where she’d left her cell phone. Her head and neck ached. Nausea washed over her. She raised herself far enough off the floor to grab her cell, tapped in 911 and turned to glance over her shoulder, using the light from her phone to scan the darkness.
A body.
No. Please, God, no.
Mary Kate lay in a pool of blood.
“Nine one one.” The operator’s raspy voice sounded in the stillness. “State your emergency.”
“Children’s Care Clinic on Amish Road.” Ella gripped the phone with her trembling hand and forced the words from her mouth. “An...an intruder attacked two women. Send an ambulance.”
“Ma’am, could you—”
Scooting closer, she gasped at the gush of blood from the young woman’s side. Grabbing a towel from the nearby supply cabinet, Ella wadded it into a ball and pressed the thick terry cloth against the wound. With her right hand, she found the carotid artery, grateful to feel a pulse.
“Tell the ambulance to hurry,” she told the operator. “I’ve got a patient who’s bleeding to death.”
“Stay on the line, ma’am. The police and ambulance are on the way.”
Ella wasn’t sure they would arrive in time.
* * *
Criminal Investigation Division Special Agent Zach Swain stood at the side entrance of the rural clinic that led into the doctor’s office and blinked back the memory of another medical facility long ago. A patient lay sprawled on the floor, and a doctor knelt over her, forcing air into her lungs. Fear clenched his gut as he was once again the eight-year-old boy screaming for the doctor to save his mother’s life.
Swallowing down the vision from his past, Zach focused on the swirl of activity before him and the information Officer Van Taylor, a young Freemont cop who had checked Zach’s identification, was continuing to provide.
“Her name’s Ella Jacobsen.” Taylor, tall and lean and midtwenties, pointed to the woman sitting on a straight-backed chair.
“She runs the clinic?” Zach asked.
The cop nodded. “She bought the three-bedroom ranch and attached a clinic to the side of the residence. Local families and some of the Amish who’ve settled in this area appreciate having a doc close at hand.”
An older police sergeant, probably fifty-five, with a receding hairline and bushy brows, stood near the woman. Zach read his name tag: Abrams. The sergeant held an open notebook in his hand.
Zach couldn’t hear their conversation, but he recognized the ashen paleness of the doctor’s face and the bloodstains that covered her blouse and the slicker that lay next to her on the floor.
“She’s a northerner,” the younger officer explained. “Moved here from Pennsylvania and opened this clinic for kids five months ago.”
All of which sounded admirable. “So what happened tonight?” Zach asked.
“The power went out, only it wasn’t the storm that caused the failure.”
Zach raised his brow. “Someone tampered with the line coming to the clinic?”
“Seems that’s what happened. He also fiddled with the spark plug on the generator the doc couldn’t get to start. One of our men got it working until the repairman from the power company restored the main feed.”
“I call that good customer service this far from Freemont.”
Taylor leaned closer and lowered his voice. “The guy on call from the power company is married to Sergeant Abrams’s daughter, so he rushed here to help.”
“Keep it in the family, right?”
The young cop smiled. “In case you’re interested, we took the doc’s prints and collected samples from under her nails.”
Which meant she had tried to defend herself.
Taylor pointed to his supervisor. “Looks like the sergeant is ready to wrap up his questioning, sir, if you want to talk to Dr. Jacobsen.”
Zach nodded in appreciation.
Abrams closed his notebook, said something to the woman and then headed across the room. As he approached, Zach extended his hand and stated his name. “I’m with the Criminal Investigation Division at Fort Rickman, Sergeant Abrams. One of your men notified our office that active duty military personnel were involved in the case.”
The sergeant returned the handshake. “Good to see you, Special Agent Swain. What we know so far is that an intruder attacked Mary Kate Powers, whose twin girls were being treated by the doctor. The woman’s a military spouse. She suffered a gunshot wound to her side and is being transported by ambulance to the hospital at Fort Rickman. Doc Jacobsen tended to her injuries before the EMTs arrived. Saved the woman’s life, according to our emergency personnel.”
Zach glanced again at the doc’s scraped face and disheveled hair. “Looks like the assailant took out his anger on the doctor, as well.”
“She claims to be all right, although she can’t remember much. Probably due to shock.”
“Do you have a motive?”
The sergeant shrugged. “Could be drugs. The doc doesn’t keep much on hand in her clinic, but dopers don’t make good choices.”
“Was the assailant able to access the meds?”
“Negative. Still, that seems the most logical explanation at this point.”
Logical or convenient? Zach wasn’t as easily convinced as the sergeant. “Mind if I talk to her?”
“Be my guest. Corporal Hugh Powers, the wounded woman’s husband, is in one of the treatment rooms. You’re welcome to question him, as well.”
Zach appreciated the cop’s openness to having a military presence in the investigation. As the sergeant and Taylor stepped outside, Zach grabbed a chair and placed it next to the doctor.
She glanced up. Blue eyes rimmed with dark lashes stared at him. Her brow furrowed, and her full lips drooped into a pronounced frown. She scooted back in her chair warily.
Zach introduced himself. “I’m from Fort Rickman. If you don’t mind, I’d like to ask you a few questions.”
“I don’t understand.” Her hand went protectively to her throat. “Why would Fort Rickman be interested in what happened at my clinic?”
Zach eyed the dark mark under her ear and the hair on the side of her head that was matted with blood. “The Criminal Investigations Division is called in when military personnel are injured or involved in a crime.”
“You’re referring to Mary Kate?”
“That’s right. Mary Kate Powers. You were treating her daughters?”
The doc nodded. “They were suffering from a gastrointestinal problem and became dehydrated. I administered IV fluids to rehydrate the girls.”
“Were they in the clinic at the time of the attack?”
“They were asleep, as was their mother.” Ella pointed to the hallway. “The girls were in the first treatment room, on the left. Their stepfather got here before the ambulance. He wanted to check on his wife, since she and the girls had been gone quite a while. He was distraught when he saw her, of course, and called the grandparents. They arrived not long ago and took the children home.”
“Am I correct in assuming the girls weren’t injured?”
“Thankfully, they slept through their mother’s attack.”
“Could you start at the beginning, ma’am?”
She glanced down at her scraped hands. Dried blood stained her fingers. Rust-colored spatters streaked across her shirt. “I’ve been treating the girls for a debilitating disease, called CED, or childhood enzyme deficiency, for the last few months. They’ve improved, but when the gastrointestinal problems started, their mother was concerned. She called and asked if I could see them tonight.”
“Was this a normal occurrence, Doctor?”
She narrowed her gaze as if she didn’t understand the question. “If you mean do I see patients at night, then no, it’s not the norm. But the girls are five years old, Mr. Swain. Their physical and fine motor abilities had been compromised by the disease. Less than two months ago, I was worried about their failure to thrive.”
“You didn’t expect them to live?”
She nodded. “They were becoming increasingly compromised.”
“But you recognized the symptoms and started them on the proper medication?” Zach asked.
“More or less.”
Now he was the one to pause and raise an eyebrow. “Meaning what?”
“Meaning my husband led the team that first identified the condition. I called the research center where he had worked to ensure the protocol he established almost a year ago was still the treatment of choice.”
“And was it?”
“Yes, so after talking to the head of the Harrisburg center, I made changes in the girls’ diets, prescribed the enzyme needed to overcome their deficiency and checked on their progress repeatedly.”
“The girls improved?”
The doc nodded. “Improved and indeed began to thrive.”
“Yet they got sick with the stomach ailment.”
“Which had nothing to do with the genetic disease. As you can imagine, their mother was anxious. I assured her the girls would be fine with fluids and time. Antinausea drugs helped. I’ll check on them again in the morning, but I feel sure they’ll make a full recovery.”
The doctor glanced at an area near her desk where blood stained the tile floor. “I wish I was equally as convinced of their mother’s prognosis.”
“You don’t think she’ll survive?” Zach asked.
“Mary Kate lost a lot of blood. A whole host of complications could develop. The next twenty-four to forty-eight hours will be key.”
“Why would someone harm Mrs. Powers?”
The doc shook her head, a bit too quickly.
Zach leaned closer. “Is there someone who might have reason to attack the girls’ mother?”
“You’d have to ask Mary Kate, although I doubt you’ll be able to question her for the next day or two.” Dr. Jacobsen glanced again at the floor. “Even then, I’m not sure...”
“I’ll contact the hospital,” Zach volunteered.
She glanced up at him, her eyes wide with hopeful optimism. “Would you let me know her condition?”
“Of course.”
She almost smiled.
Zach let out a breath, checked the notes he’d made and tried to get back to his questioning. “Could you tell me about your husband, ma’am?”
“My husband?”
Any positive steps he had made took a backward dive as her frown returned.
“You mentioned that he had worked at a research center in Pennsylvania,” Zach prompted. “Where is your husband currently working?”
“My husband...” She pulled in a ragged breath. “Quin died eight months ago.”
Not what Zach had expected. “I’m sorry, ma’am.”
“Thank you. So am I.”
“You lived with him in Pennsylvania?”
“I did. That’s correct.”
“And after he passed away...” Zach let the statement hang.
“After his death, I moved to Georgia and opened this clinic.”
“Georgia must not be home, ma’am. I don’t notice a Southern accent.”
She tilted her head. “I’m originally from Ohio. I met and married my husband in Columbus when I was attending medical school at Ohio State. He was doing research for a private company.”
“What brought you South after his death?”
She touched the ring finger of her left hand as if searching for the wedding band she no longer wore.
“I came to Freemont because of the Amish who live in the area. Some of the families migrated here from Pennsylvania, a few from Ohio and Alabama. Seems everyone—even the ‘English,’ as they call us—wants a bit of the simple lifestyle. Land up north is hard to find, which forces young Amish farmers to settle new areas, away from the urban sprawl that has become a problem.”
“So you were looking for an Amish community?”
“I’m a pediatrician.” She sounded tired. Perhaps from too many questions. “I wanted to open a care clinic for Amish children.”
“But the Powers twins aren’t Amish.”
“Mary Kate grew up around here. As you probably know, her husband—the girls’ stepfather—is military and was deployed to the Middle East. Mary Kate and the girls moved home to be with her parents. My clinic is closer than going to town for medical treatment.”
Zach studied the notes he had taken. Something didn’t add up. “Your husband worked with the Amish in Pennsylvania?”
“Amish children. He specialized in newly emerging, genetically acquired diseases, as well as established conditions that impact the Amish.”
“What specifically?”
“Metabolic disorders such as pyruvate kinase deficiency, Crigler-Najjar syndrome, maple syrup urine disease.”
Zach held up his hand. “Evidently there are a number of conditions that attack Amish children.”
“Too many. As I mentioned, Quin worked to identify new diseases and researched treatment protocols.”
“Then you moved here after his death to carry on his legacy?”
“No.” Confusion washed over her face. “I came because I wanted to make a contribution.”
From the noticeable way she braced her shoulders and raised her head, Zach wondered if there was more to her statement than she cared to admit. Had the doctor been living in her husband’s shadow?
“What was the cause of your husband’s death, ma’am?”
She bristled. “I don’t see how that has bearing on what happened here tonight.”
“Yes, ma’am, but it’s my job to put the pieces together. Your husband’s death could play a role in the investigation.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
Zach raised his brow and waited. Dr. Jacobsen had to realize that police questions needed to be answered.
“My husband’s cause of death is still under investigation,” she finally admitted.
“Could you provide a few more details?”
“Quin attended a medical research conference in Memphis, Tennessee. He left the hotel Saturday afternoon before the end of the event. His luggage was in the rental car found on the edge of a bridge that spans the Mississippi River.”
Her face twisted as if the story was hard to tell.
“Fishermen found his body washed up on the banks of the river some days later.”
“Was foul play suspected?”
She swallowed. “The police ruled his death self-inflicted.”
Suicide, but she failed to use the term. “Did you question their finding?” Zach asked.
“Of course. Anything could have happened. He could have fallen or been pushed.”
“You suspected foul play?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know what I suspected. Quin was a perfectionist. He held himself to a high standard. Succumbing to the sense of unworthiness that predisposes someone to take their own life hardly seemed in keeping with Quin’s nature.”
“Did you explain your concerns to the police?”
“They weren’t interested in my opinions.”
A negative undercurrent was evident from her tone of voice. Zach doubted the good doctor had much regard for law enforcement, present company included, he felt sure.
“What about tonight’s assailant. Did you see anything that might identify the intruder?”
She raked her hand through her curly hair and shook her head. “I don’t remember.”
When Zach failed to comment, she leaned closer. “I passed out. Not long. A matter of seconds at the most, yet my recall is foggy at best.”
Opening her hands, she shrugged. “The truth is I can’t remember anything that happened shortly before or after I blacked out.”
“What’s the last thing you do remember, ma’am?”
“I was outside, trying to make the generator work. A scream came from the clinic. I hurried inside to make sure Mary Kate and the girls were all right.”
“What did you find?”
Her eyes narrowed. “A man shadowed in darkness stood over my desk.”
“Go on,” Zach encouraged her.
She shook her head. “That’s all I can recall.”
The side door opened and Sergeant Abrams and Officer Taylor stepped back into the clinic. After saying something to the younger cop, Abrams approached the doctor. “Ma’am, the EMTs mentioned your need to be checked at the hospital. I can have one of my men drive you there in the next twenty to thirty minutes.”
“That’s not necessary. All I really need are a couple of ibuprofen and a few hours of sleep.”
“If the Freemont police are tied up, I’d be happy to drive you to the hospital,” Zach volunteered. “You’ve been through a lot and are probably running on adrenaline right now.”
“Really, I’m fine,” she insisted.
The sergeant leaned closer. “Ma’am, you owe it to your patients to be checked out. The sooner you get feeling better, the sooner you’ll be able to see to their needs.”
The man seemed to have struck the right chord.
“Perhaps you’re right.” She glanced at Zach. “You wouldn’t mind driving me?”
“Not a problem, ma’am.”
She looked down at her soiled hands and blouse. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to wash my hands and change into clean clothes.”
“Of course.”
Abrams motioned a female cop forward. “Officer Grant will accompany you into your private residence, ma’am.”
“But it adjoins my clinic,” the doc objected. “I just need to go down the hall. The door connects to the kitchen.”
“Yes, ma’am.” The sergeant nodded. “But having someone with you is a safety precaution until you’ve been checked out at the hospital.”
As if too tired to argue, Dr. Jacobsen rose and followed the female officer into the hallway.
Once the women had left the room, Zach turned to the sergeant. “Tell me if I’m wrong, but I get the feeling you don’t trust the doc.”
Abrams offered him a tired smile. “I’m being cautious. Dr. Jacobsen seems to be a woman of merit, but I’ve seen too many criminals over the years who look like Miss America and apple pie. I don’t want to be hoodwinked by a physician in a rural clinic who’s up to no good.”
Zach hadn’t suspected the doctor of wrongdoing. Quite the opposite. He wouldn’t admit his feelings to the sergeant, but something about her tugged at his heart. Maybe it was the confusion he read in her gaze, or her vulnerability. Whatever the reason, he needed to focus on the case at hand. He also needed to remind himself of what he’d learned long ago.
Ever since his mother’s traumatic death, Zach didn’t trust doctors. He never had and never would.
TWO (#u3c6fd48a-2798-5fe2-ae78-d9cc59c656ad)
Ella stepped into the hallway and paused. Her head ached, and the muscles in her back and legs were strained. Although she’d survived the attack, her insides were still trembling. After Quin’s death, she had moved to Georgia, looking for a better life. Now an intruder had robbed her of her peace and sense of security.
She doubted that the special agent could understand the way she felt. He was big and bulky, and impeccably dressed in a navy sports coat and khaki slacks, with a patterned tie that brought out his rugged complexion and dark eyes. Some might call him handsome. She found him intense.
Glancing into the small treatment room, she saw Hugh Powers, head in his hands, sitting in the chair where his wife had slept not that long ago.
Ella tapped on the door frame. “Corporal Powers?”
He glanced up.
“I’m sorry about Mary Kate.”
“The EMTs said she would have bled out if you hadn’t helped.” He looked weary and confused.
A sound caused her to turn. The special agent had entered the hallway and stood staring at her. “I thought you were going to your residence.” His voice was low and clipped.
“I was talking to Corporal Powers.” She glanced back at the soldier. “I know this isn’t the homecoming from the Middle East that you expected, with sick children and an injured wife. If it’s any consolation, the girls are getting stronger, and I’m sure the doctors at Fort Rickman are doing everything they can for Mary Kate.”
“When can I leave here?” he asked. “I need to go to the hospital to be with my wife, but the sergeant said he might have more questions.”
“Maybe Special Agent Swain can help you.”
Zach stepped forward, getting much too close to Ella. All she’d been able to smell since the storm was Georgia clay and dried blood. Now she inhaled the clean scent of sandalwood and a hint of lime.
She looked up, taking in his bulk, and then glanced down at her tattered blouse and soiled hands, realizing once again that she couldn’t let appearance define her.
Ella wasn’t who Quin had wanted her to be—that became evident over the course of their short marriage. The problem was, she wasn’t sure who she was or what she wanted anymore. Quin had that effect on her. Or maybe it had started with her father, who was never satisfied with anything she did. How had she married a man who reminded her of her dad? A psychologist might say she was trying to prove her worth to both men, but she was tired of having to prove herself to anyone, even the special agent.
He touched her arm. She glanced down at a hand that would dwarf her own.
“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice brimming with concern.
Evidently, she had been lost in thought longer than she realized. “I’m fine. Thank you.”
Turning abruptly on her heel, she followed the female police officer into her private residence and sighed as she closed the door behind her. Of course she wasn’t fine. She had been beaten up by an assailant who’d tried to shoot her.
The gun. Why hadn’t she remembered the gun?
Ella hurried back into the hallway and stopped short in front of the treatment room. Zach moved to the door.
“Is something wrong?” he asked.
“The man...the assailant...he drew a weapon. The gun jammed. He kept trying to pull the trigger, over and over again.”
The reality of her own brush with death overtook her. Tears burned her eyes. Her body trembled. Shock. She knew the signs, but couldn’t help herself. She felt weak and sick and all alone.
Powerless to stop herself, she stepped toward the special agent with the wide shoulders and broad chest.
He opened his arms and pulled her into his embrace. “You’re safe now.”
Which was exactly how she felt. Then, all too quickly, she realized her mistake and pulled out of his hold.
“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, embarrassed by her moment of weakness. Her cheeks burned as she retraced her steps and escaped into the kitchen.
Ella had hoped to find peace in Freemont, Georgia, but she’d found something else. She’d found a brutal attacker, a man who had tried to kill her. Why had he come into her clinic and what had he wanted to find?
* * *
Why had he opened his arms and pulled her into his embrace? Zach let out a stiff breath and mentally chastised himself for his emotional response to the doc. What was wrong with him tonight?
He stood staring after her as she closed the door at the end of the hallway, and willed himself to act like an investigator instead a guy taken in by a pretty face and big blue eyes. Inwardly, he shifted back to CID mode before he stepped into the treatment room where Corporal Powers waited.
After introducing himself, Zach inquired about the corporal’s unit and why he had followed his wife and daughters to the clinic.
“I didn’t follow them,” the man insisted. “Mary Kate and the twins left the house when I was sleeping. The girls had been sick, and my wife mentioned calling the doctor.”
“Dr. Jacobsen?”
The soldier nodded. “I figured they were here.”
“So you came to find them.”
“That’s right.”
“Tell me what happened when you arrived?”
“I already told the Freemont cop.”
“But you need to tell me.” Zach pulled out a notebook and held a pen over the tablet. He glanced at the young father and waited.
The sergeant clenched his hands. A muscle in his thick neck twitched.
Zach voiced his concern. “Does it make you angry to talk about what you saw, Corporal Powers?”
“I found my wife on the floor of this clinic. If it hadn’t been for the doc, Mary Kate would have bled out. How would that make you feel?”
“Worried about my wife’s condition.”
“I was also worried about my girls. I thought they’d been killed. I was frantic.”
“And angry?” Zach added. “Perhaps at your wife for leaving you and taking the children?”
The corporal shook his head. “I was angry that my wife was hurt, and fearful for my daughters. When I found them unharmed and sound asleep, I...I lost it.” Hugh pulled in a ragged breath and rubbed his neck.
“You and your wife married when?”
“Five years ago. Soon after the girls were born. Mary Kate was living in the Savannah area. I was stationed at Fort Stewart.”
“She was pregnant when you met?”
“That’s correct.”
“Did you adopt the girls?” Zach asked.
“I’m their father.” Anger flashed in his eyes. “Yes, I adopted them.”
Other questions came to mind, like who was the biological father, but at that moment, Officer Abrams entered the room and nodded to Zach.
He posed one final question. “You’re staying with your in-laws?”
“I am.” The corporal nodded. “But right now, I want to go to the hospital and be with my wife.”
“Looks like the Freemont police need to ask you some more questions.” Zach handed the soldier his card. “Contact me if you remember anything else.”
He handed a second card to Abrams. “I’ll be in touch.”
“You’re taking the doc to the Freemont Hospital?”
“Roger that.”
Zach returned to the office and studied the bloodstains on the floor. From the position of the blood spatter, he guessed Mary Kate had probably awakened, heard a noise and stumbled into the room, where the intruder had attacked her physically and then shot her with his weapon. Yet the doctor hadn’t mentioned hearing gunfire.
He walked to where Taylor was lifting prints off the doctor’s desk. “I was at Fort Rickman when the storm hit tonight. We had a lot of lightning and thunder. Was it the same around here?”
The young cop nodded. “Sounded like explosive blasts, one after another. Don’t know when I’ve heard such deafening claps of thunder.”
“Loud enough to muffle a gunshot?” Zach asked.
Taylor hesitated for a moment and then nodded. “As loud as Mother Nature was tonight, anything could have been masked by the storm.”
“Yet the doctor heard a scream.”
“Which could have come between the lightning strikes. I don’t think that’s a problem, if you’re wondering about what the doc remembers. Sergeant Abrams said she’s got a bit of amnesia on top of shock. Her memory might return with time.”
Zach peered down at the top of the desk. “Have you found any good prints?”
“A few partials. Whether we’ll be able to identify anyone from them is the question. They’re probably Dr. Jacobsen’s or the nurse who works for her. I told you that we took the doc’s prints earlier. We’ll get the nurse’s tomorrow. Won’t take long before we know if we’ve got a match. I’m sure Sergeant Abrams will keep you informed.”
“He’s got my number.”
An engraved invitation embossed with a caduceus logo and printed on heavy ecru card stock caught Zach’s attention. He leaned closer, not wanting to touch anything on the desk until Taylor had finished his work.
“Cordially invited... Medical Symposium... Atlanta...” The event was scheduled for the upcoming Friday.
Zach rubbed his jaw. Somehow he couldn’t see the rural doc fitting in at what appeared, from the fancy invitation, to be a rather highbrow event. Although maybe there was more to Ella Jacobsen than he realized.
The sound of footsteps caused him to look up as she entered the office. She was wearing gray slacks and a matching rust-colored sweater set. From the damp hair that curled around her face, he guessed she had taken time to shower.
As she stepped closer, he inhaled a fresh floral scent that contrasted sharply with the stale air in the clinic. A roomful of law enforcement types working extended shifts late into the night didn’t do much for air quality.
“I appreciate you driving me to the hospital.” Her apologetic smile looked more like a grimace. “I doubt there’s anything wrong with me other than some scrapes and bruises, yet I always encourage my patients to be examined after any significant injury. I wouldn’t be much of a doctor if I didn’t practice what I preached.”
“Going to the hospital is a good decision.”
She glanced at Officer Taylor. “I usually don’t leave my desk in such disarray.” She tugged a strand of hair behind her ear. “I saw the man standing over it. Maybe he went through my papers.”
Taylor pointed to an open cabinet. “Looks like he was going through your patient files, too, ma’am.”
“I can’t imagine why.”
“Have you treated anyone recently that might not want their diagnosis revealed?” Zach asked. “Most folks don’t want their medical information to end up in the wrong hands.”
“I deal mainly with Amish children. I can’t think of anything significant that my patients or their families would want to keep secret.”
“What about the twins’ condition? Is there any reason for that not to get out?”
Dr. Jacobsen shook her head. “Not that I know of.”
“Maybe we’ll find a match with one of the prints,” Taylor said.
“Are you going to talk to my nurse in the morning?” she asked.
“Yes, ma’am. I’ll get her prints then.”
Zach pointed to the door. “If you’re ready?”
She took a step forward and then hesitated. “I need to tell someone to turn off the lights and lock up when they leave.”
The concern for her clinic was understandable. “I’ll talk to Sergeant Abrams,” Zach said. “Wait here and I’ll be back in a minute.”
He hurried to the treatment room where Corporal Powers stood with his back to the wall and his arms crossed over his chest. Antagonism was clearly written on his face. Abrams saw Zach and stepped into the hallway.
“I’m taking the doctor to the ER in town,” Zach explained. “She’s worried about her clinic and asked that the lights be turned off and the doors locked when you leave.”
Abrams nodded. “We’ll be here until the crime scene folks are finished. Could take most of the night, but tell her I’ll make sure we leave the place secure.”
“Hopefully, we’ll be back before then, but knowing how slow emergency rooms can be, it might be hours before she’s seen.”
Abrams smiled knowingly. “Our local hospital isn’t known for speed, so you’re probably right. I’ll contact you if we learn anything.”
Pointing toward the treatment room, he added, “Corporal Powers is anxious about his wife. He plans to stay at the hospital on post. I imagine someone from your office will question him more thoroughly.”
“I’ll contact the CID,” Zach assured the cop. “One of our people will visit Powers at the hospital. We’ll contact his unit and ensure he’s getting some support from their end. I’ll check on his daughters and in-laws after the doc is treated. He’s not a flight risk, and we know where to find him.”
“I’ll tell him to expect someone at the hospital.”
Zach returned to the office, where the doc stood, her eyes wide as she looked around her, no doubt, once-tidy space. What had the assailant wanted? Two women were injured, one seriously, and medical files had been accessed.
In spite of what Abrams had suggested, the guy hadn’t broken in looking for drugs. He wanted information or else to do harm. Maybe both. If only the Freemont police would uncover evidence they could use to track down the assailant. Until then the doctor needed to be careful and on guard, lest the guy return to do more damage.
Zach would keep watch, too. He didn’t want anything else to happen to the doc.
THREE (#u3c6fd48a-2798-5fe2-ae78-d9cc59c656ad)
If she made her patients wait this long she wouldn’t have any. Ella sat in the exam room and hugged her arms around her chest, grateful that Zach hadn’t deserted her. His frustration with medical personnel was evident by his frequent sighs and the pointed questions he asked the nurse concerning the lab results and CT scan. Yet he’d tried to buoy Ella’s spirits and never complained about his own discomfort.
Of course, the nurse didn’t have any way to speed up the lab technologists handling her specimens nor the CT techs, who had probably already given the results to the doctor. But Ella was beginning to feel as frustrated as Zach. Considering the number of patients in the waiting room when they’d arrived at the hospital hours ago, and the number of people who passed by in the hallway, if she received her test and lab results by lunchtime she would consider herself fortunate.
Not the way to run a hospital. Quin would have been equally as annoyed as the special agent, although her husband wouldn’t have hung around while she was being treated. He would have mumbled some excuse about needing to get to his research, and left her to find her own transportation home.
Ella shook her head at the memory of what their life together had been like, and then let out a lungful of air, mentally refusing to dwell on the past.
A tap sounded at the door.
She sat up straighter and raked her hand through her hair, not sure who to expect. “Come in.”
The door opened, and Zach stepped into the exam room, carrying a white paper bag. “Two coffees from the cafeteria, one with cream and sugar, and two breakfast sandwiches. Egg and sausage sound okay?”
“Sounds delicious. How did you know I needed food?”
“Just a hunch.” He glanced at the clock on the wall and then handed her a coffee and sandwich. “Patients could starve to death while they’re waiting in the ER.”
“I’ll remember that in case I’m ever a hospital administrator.” She accepted the food he offered.
“You’d be a good one, for sure.”
She was taken aback by his comment. He was probably just being nice and making idle chitchat, but she was so accustomed to Quin’s negativity that she hadn’t expected anything as affirming and supportive. For some reason, she suddenly wanted to cry.
She blinked back the tears that stung her eyes, feeling totally foolish as she removed the plastic lid and took a sip of the hot brew. “Coffee was just what I needed.”
Hopefully, he hadn’t realized the emotional turmoil that had taken her by surprise. She blamed it on fatigue and her recent brush with death. If only her memory would return, so she could grasp exactly what had happened.
“I thought you’d stepped outside to make a phone call,” she said as she unwrapped the sandwich.
“Actually, a number of calls. The first was to CID headquarters and the second to Corporal Powers’s unit to ensure they knew what had happened.”
“And did they?”
“He called them on his way to the hospital.”
“Did you learn anything about Mary Kate’s condition?”
“That was my third and final call. She remains critical and in ICU, but her husband is there, and so is her father.”
“Maybe they’ll offer each other support.”
Ella and Zach ate the sandwiches, and by the time they’d finished their coffees, another tap sounded at the door.
“I’ll wait in the hallway.” Zach left the room as the doctor entered.
“Did I scare him off?” the physician asked.
Ella appreciated Zach’s thoughtfulness in leaving so she could talk to the clinician, who seemed oblivious to the importance of patient privacy.
“I’m sure my labs were in normal range,” she said, to get the doctor back on track. “But what about the CT scan?”
“You have a slight concussion, so I want you to take it easy for the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours. Continue to ice that lump on your head. You might have headaches for a day or so. Expect muscle soreness, especially where you were kicked. Ibuprofen will help or I can prescribe something stronger.”
She held up her hand. “That won’t be necessary.”
“I don’t know if you’re a churchgoing woman, but I believe in God’s benevolence. He was watching over you last night.”
His comment took her aback. She’d never had much of a relationship with God in her youth and had stopped asking for His help when her marriage had fallen apart.
“You were fortunate not to have broken ribs,” the ER doc continued. “Or something worse. If anything changes, don’t hesitate to come back. I doubt you’ll have to wait as long next time.”
“I’m hoping there won’t be a next time.”
“We’re short staffed right now, Dr. Jacobsen.” He tapped her file. “If you are looking for some weekend or evening work, I’m sure the personnel office would be happy to accept your application for employment.”
She smiled at the job offer. “Thanks, but my patients keep me busy.”
“I’m sure. We don’t see many Amish at the hospital. Every once in a while we’ll set a broken bone or tend to some farm injury. As you probably know, the plain folk usually tend to their own medical needs. I know they probably appreciate having you in their area.”
“Some do. Some don’t.”
He nodded. “That’s always the way. I wish you the best with your clinic. Let us know if we can be of help.”
Ella appreciated his comments almost as much as she was grateful for the clean bill of health. She found Zach in the hallway, and after receiving her treatment notes from the nurse, hurried with him to his car.
He opened the door to the passenger side and held her arm as she settled in the seat. She wasn’t used to such attention, but wouldn’t do anything to dampen his enthusiasm or good manners.
“I’m glad you’re okay,” he said.
“Just a little tired, which I’m sure you are, as well. Thank you again.”
“No problem.” He was silent until they turned onto the main road leading to the Amish community. “I need to know a bit more about Mary Kate, if you feel up to talking.”
“I don’t know much about her family. She mentioned an older brother in Atlanta.”
“Any family history of violence?” Zach asked.
Ella looked down at her hands folded in her lap and weighed what she should tell the special agent. She needed to be truthful, but she also worried about the young family, who seemed to have so many problems.
“Her husband was recently diagnosed with PTSD.”
Zach kept his eyes on the road, but pursed his lips before he asked, “Do you know if he’s had any volatile incidents?”
“She mentioned a few problems, but nothing about any outbursts on his part. Still, she might have glossed over the severity of their situation.”
“One of the CID agents from post plans to question him later today.”
“Is he a suspect?”
Zach shook his head. “Not at this point.”
“You’re sure? Because if you do suspect him, then I’d be worried about the twins’ safety.”
“After I drop you off, Doc, I plan to pay the grandparents a visit.”
“We’ll go together. Their house is on the way.”
“Didn’t the ER doctor prescribe rest?”
“A house call won’t tax me unduly. Plus it will ease my mind to know the girls are all right.”
“We’ll make a short visit. Then you’re going straight home.”
“Aye aye, sir.”
He laughed. “You’re mixing branches of the service.”
“Whatever works.” She smiled. “But do me a favor. My first name’s Ella.”
“And I’m Zach.”
She pointed to the upcoming intersection. “Turn right. Then make another right at the four-way.”
She stole a glance at his sturdy shoulders and strong hands. Quin had been a small man. Zach was the exact opposite. He was all brawn and muscle, with deep-set eyes that continued to glance at her.
The strange ripple of interest she felt surprised her. Her marriage had been a failure. She wouldn’t try again with any man. Her clinic and her work provided everything she needed. And more.
“There’s the house. On the left.” She pointed to the two-story colonial with a circular driveway.
“I don’t want you to overdo it,” Zach cautioned again.
“I’m okay. Really. Ensuring the twins’ condition has improved will be better than any meds the doctor at the hospital could have prescribed.”
After Zach parked, Ella stepped from the car. Together, they walked to the front door, and he rang the bell.
Lucy Landers, the twins’ grandmother, cracked open the door. Her hair was pulled into a bun, and she wore a white apron over a calico dress. “Yes?”
“Mrs. Landers, I’m Dr. Jacobsen from the Children’s Care Clinic. I’ve been treating the twins and wanted to ensure they were feeling better.”
“Oh, forgive me, Dr. Jacobsen. I didn’t recognize you.” She opened the door wide. “Come in, please.”
Ella introduced Zach. “Special Agent Swain is from Fort Rickman. He’s investigating what happened at my clinic.”
The older woman’s eyes filled with tears. “My husband has been at the hospital all night. The doctors told him the next twenty-four hours are so important.”
Ella reached for her hand. “The medical personnel know what they’re doing.”
Mrs. Landers sniffed. “I hope you’re right.”
Ella glanced around the living room with its simple furnishings, and peered into the hallway. “What about the girls?”
“They’re still sleeping.”
“Did either child run a temperature in the night?” she asked.
The woman shook her head. “I checked them often. They stayed cool.”
“May I see them, Mrs. Landers?”
“Of course.” She motioned for Ella and Zach to follow her, and stopped at the threshold of a small bedroom where the twins lay sleeping.
Ella quietly approached the double bed and touched each child’s forehead, relieved that both girls felt cool and afebrile. One of the twins blinked her eyes open.
“Hi, Stacey.” Ella smiled down at her. “How are you feeling?”
“Fine.”
“Does your tummy hurt anymore?”
The little girl shook her head. “I’m hungry.”
Ella glanced at the grandmother. “Seems Stacey is ready for breakfast.”
“I’m so glad.” The woman held out her hand. “Come on, sugar. Let’s go into the kitchen. I’ll fix you a soft-boiled egg on toast. Won’t that taste good?”
The child looked at her sister. “What about Shelly?”
“She’ll wake up soon, sugar. When she does, I’ll make her an egg, too.”
Ella checked the second twin, who stirred and then snuggled down even deeper into the bedding.
“Thanks for bringing me here,” Ella whispered to Zach as they left the room. “I’m relieved knowing the girls are better.”
“Can I fix something for you folks?” Lucy asked from the kitchen. “How ’bout some coffee?”
“I need to get back to the clinic,” Ella said. “If anything changes, call me there.”
The front door opened and the twins’ grandfather entered the house. Heavyset and in his late fifties, Mr. Landers wore a plaid shirt and dark slacks.
“Are the girls sick again?” he asked in lieu of a greeting.
“No, sir.” Ella shook her head. “Both of them seem better. Stacey’s in the kitchen waiting for your wife to fix her something to eat. Shelly’s sleeping, but her fever has broken. I expect both girls to be back to normal by tomorrow morning.”
She introduced Zach.
“You’re from the fort?” the older man asked.
“That’s right, sir. I’m with the Criminal Investigation Division. We’re looking into your daughter’s attack. Mrs. Landers said you were with her at the hospital on post. How’s her condition?”
“The doctor said she’s critical and wouldn’t let me stay with her long.”
“That’s standard policy for patients in intensive care,” Ella tried to explain.
He nodded. “Hugh and I took turns. He’s having a hard time, and I’m worried about him.”
“Grandpa!” Stacey ran from the kitchen and into his open arms.
“How’s my Sassafras?”
“I’m not your Sassafras, Grandpa. I’m your Sweet Tea.”
His eyes widened. “Then you’re not Shelly?”
The little girl giggled. “Shelly’s a sleepyhead. Grandma said she’d wake up soon.”
“You’re feeling better, honey?”
The child nodded. “And hungry. Grandma wants to know if you’ll eat some eggs.”
“Tell Grandma I’m hungry enough to eat a bear.”
The girl laughed and raced back to the kitchen. “Grandpa wants bear with his eggs.”
The older man’s eyes clouded. “Don’t know what we’d do without those girls.”
“Sir, does anyone come to mind who might want to harm your daughter?” Zach asked.
He hesitated. “Hard to say.”
“So there is someone?”
Mr. Landers nodded. “Levi Miller.”
“Has he caused problems, sir?”
“Not problems, but he’s passed by a number of times in the last couple months.”
“I’m sure many Amish farmers and their families drive their buggies in front of your house,” Ella said. “You live on one of the main roads in this area.”
“But Levi is different.”
“How so, sir?” Zach asked.
“He always had his eye on Mary Kate.”
“Levi has a wife,” Ella insisted. “They’re expecting a child.”
Landers snarled. “That doesn’t make a bit of difference to some men. If I see him hanging around again, I’ll give him a piece of my mind.”
“Might be wise to notify the police, sir, if you have a grievance against Mr. Miller,” Zach cautioned.
The older man bristled. “I can take care of my family and don’t need the cops.”
“Sir, your daughter is in ICU. Someone shot her. I beg to differ. You do need law enforcement.” Zach handed the man his card. “If you see Levi around here, call me. I’ll question him.”
“I’m not sure you can help.” Mr. Landers excused himself and headed for the kitchen. “You folks can let yourselves out.”
When they’d stepped outside, Zach turned to Ella. “At some point, I’ll need to talk to Levi Miller.”
“Let me know when, and I’ll go with you. Levi’s wife is a patient of mine.” Ella headed for the car and thanked Zach as he held the door for her, before he rounded the vehicle and slipped behind the wheel.
“Mr. Landers isn’t a very welcoming man,” he said as he turned the car onto the road.
“He’s worried and not thinking rationally.”
“I’m sure that’s the case,” Zach agreed, “although there might be some truth to what he told us.”
Ella didn’t want to see Levi pulled into the investigation. He was a good man and a helpful neighbor. Again, she thought of how life had changed since the attack.
Staring out the window, she took in the rolling hills and farmland that she loved. In the distance, she could see a number of Amish homes. Their way of life had attracted her after Quin’s death, when she didn’t know where to go or to whom to turn. She’d found comfort here and a sense of welcome from some of the families.
But all that had changed when the intruder broke in last night. Could he have been stalking Mary Kate? If so, Ella refused to believe that Levi was the assailant. He was a man of peace with a sweet wife and a baby on the way.
Zach parked in her driveway and walked her to the front door of the clinic. She pulled the key from her purse, stuck it in the lock and turned the knob.
Glancing into the waiting room, she gasped. Her heart skittered in her chest and the fear she had felt last night returned full force.
“What’s wrong?” Zach asked, dropping his hand protectively on her shoulder.
“The attacker,” she whispered, unable to control the tremble in her voice. “He returned. This time, he destroyed my clinic.”
FOUR (#u3c6fd48a-2798-5fe2-ae78-d9cc59c656ad)
Zach grabbed Ella’s arm and stopped her from entering the clinic. “Wait in the car. You’ll be safer there. I want to check inside to make sure no one’s lying in wait.”
Her eyes widened. “You think the attacker from last night came back?”
“He wanted something he didn’t find. Any idea what that could be?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know. I...I thought he was after Mary Kate.”
“Which might be the case. What about the children’s medical records? Could there be something in their charts that he doesn’t want revealed?”
“Maybe.”
Zach stared at Ella for a long moment and then pointed to the car. “Stay in my vehicle and keep the doors locked while I search the clinic.”
Thankfully, she complied with his instructions and hurried there. She slipped into the passenger seat, hit the lock button and nodded to him when she was securely inside.
Zach pulled out his phone and called Sergeant Abrams. “I’m at the Children’s Care Clinic. Looks like the perpetrator from last night came back. I’m going in to do a search. The doc is outside in my car. I’d appreciate a couple of your people to process the scene. We might find a print that matches something from last night.”
Disconnecting, he tugged back his jacket and slipped his SIG Sauer from its holster. He doubted the perp was still on-site, yet he didn’t want to go in unprepared. The guy wanted something, or perhaps he’d left something behind and returned to retrieve whatever he’d lost.
Cautiously, Zach entered the clinic, his eyes scanning the room, left to right. He hugged the wall and stepped through the waiting area. The door to the office hung open. Zach stared through the doorway, searching for anything amiss.
The perp had been thorough. The drawers of the doctor’s desk hung open, and the contents lay scattered on the floor. Manila folders from the file cabinet were strewn helter-skelter about the room.
Had he been hunting for a certain patient’s records? If so, who and why?
Zach checked the closets, where someone could be hiding. The medication cabinet was locked. From all appearances, drugs hadn’t been the reason for the break-in.
After moving into the hallway, Zach searched the two treatment rooms, then headed to the door that opened into Ella’s residence.
He entered the kitchen, a warm and welcoming room with a round table positioned in front of a bay window. A yellow print tablecloth matched the valances that hung at the windows, and a bouquet of fall flowers adorned the middle of the table.
Zach remembered his home when his mother was still alive. She’d loved flowers and always had them in the house.
They bring God’s beautiful nature indoors, he recalled her saying as she’d arranged a bouquet in a crystal vase that had been passed down from her mother. The memory made him pause and stare at the mums on the doc’s table. His mother had been a woman of faith, but God didn’t play favorites. Or so it seemed.
Shaking off those thoughts, he moved quickly through the living room, then checked the master bedroom with an attached bath and the guest room with its own bath. A third room served as an office. Unlike the clinic, this one had pictures of children on the wall. Zach stepped closer.
A few of the girls wore long dresses, and some boys had dark trousers and hats that covered their bobbed hair. Amish children. From what he knew of the sect, they didn’t like photographs. Evidently the doc had gotten special permission to snap the shots.
Diplomas from a number of universities hung near the pictures, along with a picture of Ella and a slender man of medium height with deep-set eyes. He was frowning, as if the photographer had surprised him when he didn’t want his photo taken.
Ella stood awkwardly at his side, her hand reaching for his. Had the stoic husband rejected his wife’s attempt at closeness, or was that merely Zach’s imagination adding a dramatic spin to the reality of what Ella’s life had been?
He liked to think he could read people, but the doc was a closed book. Her husband appeared to be equally hard to read.
Turning from the photos, Zach backtracked through the clinic and hurried outside to where Ella waited in his car.
“Did you find anything?” She opened the door as he neared.
“Nothing except a lot of chaos in your office. The treatment area and your residence seem untouched, but the guy was looking for something. Patient records are scattered on the floor. Any ideas?”
“None at all. You tell me what someone might want.”
“Information. He attacked Mary Kate. Perhaps he followed her to your clinic, then cut the electricity so he could enter in the dark. He attacks her, probably thought he had killed her, which may have been his goal.”
Ella’s hand rose to her throat. “I can’t imagine anyone wanting to do her harm.”
“What information could he be searching for in your patient files? Tell me about the girls’ condition.”
She shrugged. “Childhood enzyme deficiency is a newly emerging condition. There’s a symposium this coming Friday in Atlanta that will focus on a number of conditions, including CED, followed by a charity dinner that will celebrate the research center’s success. The proceeds raised will help Amish families with their medical bills and also fund the clinic to ensure the research continues.”
“The research center is where your husband worked?”
“That’s right. The Harrisburg Genetic Research Center.” She pointed to her clinic. “Now if you don’t mind, I need to go inside and assess the damage.”
Zach held up his hand. “Not yet. The local authorities have to process the crime scene first. You wouldn’t want to contaminate the evidence.”
“Contamination is something found on a petri dish,” she groused.
He tried not to smile, knowing she didn’t think waiting on the porch was humorous. Nor did he, but her nose wiggled sometimes when she was upset, which he found amusing, if not charming.
“Does anyone else have a key to your office?”
“Just my nurse and nurse-receptionist, but I trust them completely. I’m more inclined to think someone didn’t secure the doors last night. Who was the last one here?”
“We’ll ask the officers when they arrive. Sergeant Abrams is on the way.”
Ella rubbed her forehead. “Everything still seems so foggy about the attack. I lost consciousness briefly. Short-term memory loss sometimes follows, which seems to be the case.”
“Have you remembered anything else?”
She shook her head. “Only my surprise in finding someone standing by my desk. He raised the light he was carrying, and I was caught in its glare. I couldn’t see his face. Then...”
Zach saw the anguish in her eyes.
“I...I remember his kicks. The pain. I couldn’t breathe.”
“You fought back.”
“Did I?”
Zach reached for her hand. “Look at your nails and the scratches on your skin.”
She glanced down at her broken fingernails and scraped knuckles.
“Does that surprise you?” he asked.
“A little, but it makes me glad. Quin...” She hesitated before adding, “My husband claimed I never stood up for myself.”
“Maybe you didn’t need to assert yourself when he was around.”
“You mean because Quin kept me safe?”
Zach nodded. “That sounds logical to me.”
“From what I’ve seen of you, Special Agent Swain, you are a protector. My husband? Not so much.”
Her comment about being a protector gave him pause. He hadn’t been able to protect his mother, and while that was long ago and he’d been a young boy, the memory troubled him still.
“You’re a doctor,” he said, hoping to deflect the conversation away from himself. “You save lives. That’s a big responsibility.”
“I like children. Being a pediatrician seemed like a good fit, but you’re giving me more credit than I deserve.”
Before Zach could reply, a patrol car raced along Amish Road and turned into the clinic drive. Sergeant Abrams stepped from the car and nodded as he approached.
“Doctor.” He glanced at Zach. “Long time no see, Special Agent Swain.”
“Sorry to call you out again.” Zach extended his hand. In short, clipped sentences he explained the chain of events that had them hanging out on the porch of her clinic.
“I’d like to go inside as soon as possible to assess any damage that may have occurred,” Ella said.
“Yes, ma’am. Just as soon as we take some photos and make a sketch of what we find.”
“We?” She glanced into his car, then raised her gaze as another police sedan approached the clinic and turned into the parking lot.
“Officer Taylor,” Abrams said by way of an introduction as the driver came forward.
“Sir.” The younger cop nodded respectfully before shaking Ella’s and Zach’s hands.
“We met last night,” Zach said with a smile.
“You brought your camera?” the sergeant asked.
“Yes, sir. I’ll take pictures inside. Shouldn’t be too long.”
“I don’t see why I can’t enter my own clinic,” Ella complained.
“Let us get the photos first. Then I’ll want to talk to you,” Abrams explained.
“More questions?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
The two officers entered the clinic. Ella turned to Zach. “You don’t have to babysit me.”
He didn’t need to hear the frustration in her voice or see the firm set of her jaw to know the doc was upset. “This is all SOP—standard operating procedure—with law enforcement. It’s not personal, Ella.”
“Remind me to tell you the same thing when your office is trashed.”
Perhaps he needed to be more considerate. Getting her mind on something other than her clinic might help.
Zach pointed to the small house on the property next door. “Tell me about your neighbor.”
Ella followed his gaze. “Levi Miller and his wife, Sarah, are a nice young couple. They’re expecting their first child. Sarah is a patient.”
“You deliver babies, too?”
“I can. The Amish hesitate going to large medical facilities and prefer to have Amish midwives or other local medical personnel assist with their deliveries.”
“You’ve been here five months, and it seems you have a good number of patients from the charts strewn about the office.”
“I had trouble at first. After the first couple of families sought my help when their children were sick, word spread. Cash can be a problem for the Amish. Sometimes I’m paid in produce or baked goods, sometimes homemade sausage and milk and cheese.”
“That hardly covers your mortgage.”
“No, but I get by.”
“What’d you do before this?” Zach asked.
“You mean in Pennsylvania?”
He nodded. “You talked about your husband, but you haven’t mentioned what you did.”
“Quin worked for a research clinic that was headquartered in Harrisburg, as I probably told you last night.” She raked her hand through her hair. “I’m still fuzzy on a lot of things.”
“I thought the Amish were in Lancaster County.”
“That’s the largest community, but Amish live near Carlisle, as well. Besides, a well-known clinic handles the area around the towns of Intercourse and Bird-in-Hand. Quin’s group covered some of the other areas.”
“And you?” Zach asked.
“I had a pediatric clinic in Carlisle.”
“Where the Army War College is located.”
“You’ve been there?” she asked.
“A few years back. Carlisle seemed like a nice place. Dickinson College is located there.”
“That’s right.”
“What made you move South?” he asked.
She tilted her head and shrugged. “I needed a change. I would always be Quin Jacobsen’s widow if I stayed there. I wanted to make my own way.” She smiled weakly. “That sounds self-serving, but I don’t mean it in that way. Quin was a larger-than-life type of guy, speaking academically. Sometimes I felt dwarfed by his presence.”
From the short time Zach had known Ella, she seemed down-to-earth and committed to her patients. Thinking of the picture he’d seen of her in the office, he could understand what she was saying.
She rubbed her hands together and glanced at her clinic. “What’s taking so long?”
“I’ll check.” Zach hurried inside and found Abrams. “The doc wants to assess the damage. Have you gotten all the photos you need?”
“Almost. Taylor needs to take a couple of her desk and then we’ll be finished.”
“What about fingerprints?”
“We lifted a few from the file cabinet and the folders strewn over the floor. Two or three look promising. I’ll run them when I get back to headquarters.”
“You’ll let me know?”
“As soon as I hear anything.”
As Taylor snapped shots of the desk, Zach stepped closer. He leaned over the engraved invitation he’d seen the night before.
Abrams glanced over his shoulder. “From the looks of that, the event appears to be a snazzy gathering. The doc seems more like a country girl.”
“I’m sure she would fit in no matter the environment.”
“You’re probably right.” The older officer looked around the clinic. “Looks like we’ve got what we need for now. Tell the doc she can come inside.”
When Zach opened the door, he was surprised to see a young man standing on the porch with her.
Ella introduced him as he neared. “Special Agent Swain, this is my neighbor, Levi Miller.”
The neighbor was dressed in the typical dark slacks held up with suspenders. A wide-brimmed hat sat atop his blond hair, and he wore a cotton shirt probably sewn by his wife.
“You live in the next house?” Zach pointed to the small one-story home.
“Yah. My wife and I live there.”
“Did you hear anything last night, Mr. Miller?”
“I heard the storm.”
“Did you hear sirens or see the police here?”
The man’s face clouded. “My wife glanced from the window. She was worried about Dr. Jacobsen.”
“But you didn’t check on her last night,” Zach pressed.
“That’s why I came today.” The Amish man turned to Ella. “You are all right?”
“Someone broke into the clinic. He shot Mary Kate Powers.”
Levi’s face blanched. “She was hurt?”
Ella touched the Amish man’s arm. “Quite seriously, I’m afraid. She’s at the hospital on post and is in critical condition.”
“May Gott’s will be done.”
Zach didn’t understand the comment. “You know Mary Kate?”
“Her parents have a home not far from here. We knew each other as children.”
Zach wondered if that friendship had continued into adulthood.
“What about the twins?” Levi asked. The concern in his voice was clearly obvious.
“They’re fine,” Ella assured him. “Thankfully, they were asleep in the treatment room, and the attacker left through the front door after accosting their mother.”
Levi let out a ragged breath. “I am relieved.”
“You know the twins?” Zach asked.
The Amish man steeled his gaze. “Twins are easy to recognize, Special Agent Swain. They have been getting treatments at the Children’s Care Clinic for some months now. I have a farm and work outside. Of course I have seen them.”
“What would you call your relationship with their mother?” Zach remembered the grandfather’s words about the Amish man who seemed much too attentive to his daughter.
“There is no relationship.”
“You haven’t tried to reconnect with Mary Kate?” Zach asked.
“A married man has eyes only for his wife.” He looked at Ella. “If you need my help, let me know.”
“Thank you, Levi.”
With a nod, he turned and walked back to his property.
Zach watched him enter his house. “There’s something Levi’s not telling us.”
Ella lowered her gaze, as if she, too, had something to hide.
Zach stared down at her. “Is there something about Levi that I need to know?”
“Of course not.” After an abrupt about-face, Ella pushed open the door to her clinic and stepped inside.
Zach glanced back at the Miller farm. A cold wind whipped across the expansive pasture area and along the road, picking up dust and blowing it in the air.
What was the truth about this Amish community and the doctor who had left her practice in Pennsylvania to move South? Was she being less than forthright? If so, why?
* * *
All her work had seemingly been for naught. Standing at the entrance to her clinic, Ella was overcome with despair. She had tried to create an environment where Amish children, used to the simple basics in their own homes, could be comfortable even when they were sick and upset. Surrounded by medical instrumentation and equipment, they could easily become wide-eyed and fearful, which only made their parents more on edge. The adults were often torn between their concern for their sick children and their own hesitation to trust the new doctor.
As she gazed at the disarray, Ella wondered what they would think if they saw the place in such a state of chaos. Her hard work up to this point and her dreams of what the clinic could be in the future had been all but dashed by the hand of a madman.
“Who would do this?” she asked, struggling to articulate even that brief question. Wrapping her arms around her chest, she glanced at the officers, who had stopped processing the crime scene and were staring at her.
Did they think she was becoming hysterical?
Zach entered the clinic behind her and touched her arm. Was he offering comfort or was he, too, afraid she might be ready for a breakdown?
“Who was the last person in here last night?” Ella demanded, feeling a swell of anger. She stared at Abrams. “Did you lock the door? Did you secure my clinic or did you leave the door open and vulnerable to the madman, who returned to find what he’d wanted the first time?”
They continued to look at her as if she were crazed, and perhaps she was—crazed with frustration at all that had happened.
Abrams stepped forward. “I asked one of my officers to make sure your clinic was secure. I trust he did as I directed.”
Officer Taylor moved closer. “The assailant could have had a key. You know he cut your power, ma’am. It wasn’t the storm that caused your outage. Someone tampered with your wiring. We got it working last night, and I checked your generator. The spark plug had been unscrewed. No wonder it wouldn’t engage.”
“So someone was prowling around here before the storm?” She shivered at the thought of the assailant stalking her and her clinic.
“Seems that way. Is there anyone who’d want to do you harm?”
“No, not that I know of.” She glanced at Zach, hoping he would offer some other reason for the attack.
“The young mother, Mary Kate Powers, might have some bearing on the case,” he volunteered. “Her husband recently returned from the Middle East. Her father is concerned about the Amish man who lives next door.”
“You mean Levi Miller?” Abrams asked.
“Levi wouldn’t have done anything to harm Mary Kate,” Ella was quick to point out.
“Why do you say that, ma’am?” the sergeant asked.
“He and Mary Kate knew each other in their youth. I believe they were close friends.”
The cop looked puzzled. “Amish and English, as they call us, make for an unusual friendship.”
“They were young, Sergeant Abrams. That hardly seems strange to me.”
“Yes, ma’am, but Mary Kate would have gone to Freemont High,” the sergeant said. “Levi Miller would have received his instruction at the Amish schoolhouse.”
“They could still be friends even if they didn’t go to school together,” she insisted. “The Landerses live in this area. Amish children roam the fields and think nothing of walking great distances. They don’t have the fear that keeps some of the town children from wandering far from their homes.”
Ella looked at Zach and then back to the Freemont officer. “As you probably know, the Amish children work hard, but when their chores are finished they’re free spirits. I can see Mary Kate getting to know Levi as a youngster.”
“Yet her father seems to harbor a grudge against Levi,” Zach interjected.
“Landers holds a grudge against a number of people in the local community,” Abrams volunteered. “He’s known as a grumpy old man.”
“Are you saying his animosity toward Levi should be ignored?” Zach asked.
“Hardly.” The sergeant shook his head. “We’ll take everything into consideration, but I’m not going to falsely accuse anyone based on what a crusty old codger has to say.”
As Zach and he continued to discuss the case, Ella rubbed her neck. Her head pounded and her body ached from the attack last night. Ibuprofen would help, but she didn’t want medication, she wanted to breathe in fresh air and feel the sunshine on her face. A more holistic approach to healing.
“If you’ll excuse me for a minute, I’ve got a patio out back,” she said. “I just need some air.”
Rubbing her temple, she hurried into her kitchen and out the back door. She had expected warm sunshine, but was instantly chilled by a stiff wind that blew from the west. Wrapping her arms around herself, she stared into the wooded area behind her house, seeing the fall colors and the branches swaying in the breeze. Overhead, geese honked, flying in a V formation. If only she could fly away from the chaos like them and find a peaceful spot to land that would calm her troubled spirit.
Movement caught her eye and she glanced again at the woods. What had she seen? An animal foraging in the underbrush?
Or...
Ella narrowed her gaze and took a step back as if subconsciously recognizing danger. Her heart lurched. She turned and ran for the protection of her house. Tripping, she fell on the steps.
A sound exploded in the quiet of the day.
A ceramic flowerpot shattered at her feet.
Another shot was fired and then another.
She screamed, stumbled up the porch stairs and reached for the door.
Zach was there, pulling her inside to safety. He shoved her to the floor and slammed the door. “Stay down.”
“A man,” she gasped, her pulse racing, a roar filling her ears. “In the woods. He—he had a rifle...”
Zach lifted the curtain ever so slightly and stared through the window.
The two policemen raced into the kitchen. “Gunfire?”
Zach pointed. “The doc saw a man at the edge of the forest.”
“A dirt road runs parallel to the tree line.” Sergeant Abrams motioned to the younger officer. “We’ll head there from opposite directions.”
Abrams radioed for more squad cars. “There’s a shooter in the woods behind the Children’s Care Clinic. We need to search the area and set up roadblocks. Someone needs to check the wooden bridge that’s along that road, as well.”
Zach locked the doors when the two officers had left, racing away in their squad cars. The sound of sirens filled the air as more Freemont police responded to the call.
Ella huddled against the wall in the corner, while Zach kept watch at the windows. The tension that lined his face spoke volumes about the danger, but she didn’t need to look at him to know that the situation had escalated.
What she realized made her tremble with fear. Last night, the police were looking for an assailant who had broken into her clinic and attacked two women.
Today that assailant had become a killer.
And the person he wanted to kill was her.
FIVE (#u3c6fd48a-2798-5fe2-ae78-d9cc59c656ad)
“We found spent rifle casings at the edge of the tree line,” Sergeant Abrams said, holding up the evidence bag to Ella, when he and Officer Taylor returned to the clinic.
Seeing the casings made her feel even less secure.
“Looks like thirty caliber.” Zach stepped closer and studied the back of one of the rounds. “They’re 30-30 to be exact.”
Abrams nodded. “Someone was holed up for a period of time, judging from the way the underbrush was trampled down. Could have been the guy from last night. He hides in the woods and watches for the doc to return, only he can’t see the parking lot in front of the clinic.”
“So he didn’t see squad cars parked there and didn’t realize law enforcement was on-site,” Zach mused.
“That’s what I’m thinking.” The sergeant scratched his chin. “If he didn’t find what he wanted last night, he could have waited for the doctor to return.”
“You’re sure he was after me?” Ella rubbed her hands together, trying to dispel her nervousness.
“Seems that way, although we can’t be sure,” the cop said. “Folks who commit crimes aren’t always the smartest people. He might have another reason to be lying in wait. We’ll process the prints we took earlier and see if any are on the shell casings. We might find new prints that match what we lifted last night. That would mean the attacker came back. If not, we could be dealing with two independent crimes, although that doesn’t seem likely.” He looked at Zach. “Anything come to mind?”
“Never say never.”
Abrams nodded. “That’s exactly the way I feel.”
The two Freemont officers headed for the door. “We’ll increase patrols in this area and keep our eyes open in case the shooter returns, but we’re finished here for now,” Abrams said. “We’ll stop by Mr. Miller’s farm and talk to him. Join us, Special Agent Swain, if you have time.”

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