Threat Detection, page 19
That Isaac was willing to give the two of them together a shot meant he had worked past his fear of being hurt. He was risking so much by proposing they give love another chance. “We have to start with a clean slate. Do you forgive me for breaking up with you like I did?”
“Yes, I forgive you. And I know your motives were pure. What my mother did was not right, but she didn’t really know you or understand what we felt for each other.”
She reached up and touched his face where there was a five-o’clock shadow. The intensity of the last few days had not given Isaac much time to shave. “I’m willing to give it a shot. A do-over. Whatever you want to call it.”
“Me too.” He leaned in and kissed her. “I love the idea of working in the park. The only thing I would love more is if we could do it as man and wife.”
Joy sprang up inside her. “Are you saying you want to marry me?”
“Yes, and this is not an immature eighteen-year-old who’s fallen head over heels. This is a mature twenty-eight-year-old who knows exactly what he wants, and I want you to be my wife. Will you marry me?”
“Yes, Isaac, I will. Here’s to us making a life together.”
“I can’t wait,” said Isaac, gathering her into his arms and kissing her.
* * *
Don’t miss Ruby’s story, Cold Case Revenge, and the rest of the Pacific Northwest K-9 Unit series:
Shielding the Baby
by Laura Scott, April 2023
Scent of Truth
by Valerie Hansen, May 2023
Explosive Trail
by Terri Reed, June 2023
Olympic Mountain Pursuit
by Jodie Bailey, July 2023
Threat Detection
by Sharon Dunn, August 2023
Cold Case Revenge
by Jessica R. Patch, September 2023
Undercover Operation
by Maggie K. Black, October 2023
Snowbound Escape
by Dana Mentink, November 2023
K-9 National Park Defenders
by Katy Lee and Sharee Stover, December 2023
Keep reading for an excerpt from Hidden Amish Target by Dana R. Lynn.
Dear Reader,
I hope you enjoyed taking this exciting and romantic journey with Aubrey and Isaac. From the first time that they meet, one of the things that Aubrey and Isaac have in common is their love for nature. Both of them chose professions where being out in the wilds is part of their job description. Aubrey mentions that she first knew there was a God when she witnessed the power of a volcano. For me, nature in all its forms has been a way to connect to the Creator who made the mountains and flowers and butterflies. Whether it is the stillness of the forest in the morning or through the intensity of a thunderstorm, all of it makes me feel closer to God. To sit by a river, lake or on the beach by the ocean and listen to the symphony and eternal rhythm that only God can create is such a treasure. How about you? What part of nature do you enjoy that makes you understand God in a deeper way?
Blessings,
Sharon Dunn
WE HOPE YOU ENJOYED THIS BOOK FROM
Courage. Danger. Faith.
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Hidden Amish Target
by Dana R. Lynn
Chapter One
“Are you sure you won’t need a ride back?”
Molly Schultz forced herself to smile at her friend, Adele King. They’d been friends for years, although they didn’t see each other as much as they used to since the accident that had changed Molly’s life a little over a year ago. Adele had been there whenever she needed her, though.
Molly opened the door before swinging down from the front bench of the buggy. She caught herself before her feet stumbled when they landed on the edge of the pothole in the paved road. Hot pain shot up her right leg, the one that had been broken in two places. It healed over time, but occasionally let her know it wasn’t perfect anymore. It was a toss-up whether her clumsiness was because of exhaustion, the late-morning July heat or the condition of the roads in Sutter Springs, Ohio. Straightening, she thought she’d saved her dignity quick enough, until a wave of quiet laughter hit her ears. Making a silly face, she wiggled her fingers at the two kinder giggling inside. They laughed harder, their small shoulders shaking. This time, when she smiled, it was genuine. She loved kinder. If only...
She pushed the thought away, refusing to allow discontent to settle in her soul. She was blessed. She had to remember that. She could have lost so much more when a drunk driver has crashed into a group of Amish leaving a church gathering thirteen months ago, killing eight people and injuring five more. She still had Mamm and her sisters. What she had lost, however, continued to haunt her, following her into nightmares that forced her to relive the horror until she woke up sobbing in her pillow.
The dreams were less frequent now, but she doubted they’d ever leave completely.
Her mother had encouraged her to write and offer forgiveness to the young man who’d caused the trauma with his poor choices. She hadn’t done that yet. How could she offer forgiveness? It would be a lie. Collin Vincent had walked away from the accident without a scratch. He’d lost his driver’s license and had been sentenced to five years in prison. He’d be released and free to live his life in four years, but her daed and Aaron would still be dead.
“Molly?”
She blinked, flushing. She’d gotten so caught up in her thoughts she’d forgotten Adele was waiting. She blocked the memory of that infamous day from her mind and smiled again. Dear Adele would do anything to help, but she had her own family and her work at her father’s business, the Plain and Simple Bed and Breakfast.
“Ja, I’m sure I don’t need a ride back. This is the only haus I have to clean today, and it’s a wonderful gut day to walk, ja? I’m only a mile from home. I’ll finish here by one and get home by two.” She pulled her cleaning bucket from the floor of the buggy and backed away to escape the dust kicked up by the mare’s prancing hooves. She didn’t want to think about walking a mile with her leg still aching. Before the accident, that wouldn’t have fazed her. “Denke for the ride.”
“Anytime, Molly. I’ll see you in church on Sunday.” Adele grasped the reins firmly in both hands.
Molly winced, and not in pain. Church. She’d have to smile at people who muttered platitudes and urged forgiveness. That is what Gott wanted. It just wasn’t in her yet. Still, Adele didn’t need to know how far she’d fallen. She raised her hand. “Ja. See you Sunday.”
Adele flicked the reins, setting the impatient mare off at an easy trot. Molly backed up again and waved to the sweet kinder peering out the window. When the buggy turned at the corner and vanished from view, she sighed. The past year had changed her life in so many ways. Her father and her fiancé were dead, her only brother was still in a coma and her mother was paralyzed. Her two youngest sisters were still in school, leaving Molly and her sixteen-year-old sister, Abigail, to shoulder most of the chores and pay the bills.
Trudging up the driveway, Molly was nearly to the back door when she noticed the car was gone. She slowed, then halted. Nancy Stevens’s Buick was normally sitting there when she arrived. After a moment, Molly bit her lip. What should she do? She’d never cleaned the haus before when no one was home. It seemed wrong to enter someone’s home when they weren’t there. However, Nancy Stevens and her husband, Frank, were very busy people. Which was why Nancy had given Molly a haus key a few weeks after she’d hired her to clean every Tuesday morning. Molly was an hour later than usual today, due to a mess her sister Rhoda had made while trying to cook breakfast. She’d spent a precious half hour trying to soothe the distraught teenager while getting the kitchen back into order. She got way behind schedule, but she didn’t have a specific time she needed to arrive by. Nancy had probably been too busy to wait to let her in. Shaking herself out of the ridiculous feeling of unease crawling over her skin, she turned her gaze away from the empty driveway and plodded around to the back door.
Unlocking the door, she entered the large airy kitchen and left her boots on the linoleum floor. Shutting the door behind her so the air-conditioning wouldn’t escape, she padded in her stockinged feet through the kitchen, where she filled her bucket with water and soap. Then she headed through the dining room and climbed the stairs to the second floor, lugging her bucket all the way. For some reason, Nancy and Frank hadn’t put air conditioners in the upstairs of the haus. That was one reason she always started at the top and worked her way down. It would be awful working in the sweltering second floor later in the day when the heat rose. As it was, sweat was already gathering at her collar and on her back. Partway up the steps, the bucket bumped into her knee, splashing soapy water on her rose-colored dress. She grimaced. Now she’d be hot, sticky and wet while she cleaned.
An hour into her cleaning, a car pulled into the driveway. Assuming Nancy had returned, Molly continued working. She tuned out any sounds from downstairs while she dusted.
Until the shouting began.
Freezing, her dusting rag clenched in her hand, she listened. She’d never heard the first voice before. It was deep. Anger seethed in the rich tones. She shivered. There was something menacing about the man’s tone. Her stomach clenched.
A younger voice entered the fray. She knew that one. Terry, the Stevenses’ only son. He was a handsome young man with a smooth smile and a reckless air. He was a little younger than her own twenty-three years, maybe around twenty, and held the mistaken belief that he was charming. Even though he knew she was Amish, he insisted on flirting with her anytime they happened to be in the same room. She’d never trusted him. His parents considered him the perfect son, but she always felt something dark stared at her from behind his eyes and brilliant smile.
The shouting grew louder. She couldn’t understand the words, but she wasn’t about to stick around and be a witness to family drama. She’d explain to Nancy later why the cleaning hadn’t been completed. She carried the bucket to the upstairs bathroom and dumped the dirty water in the sink.
The back door slammed. Heels clicked across the kitchen floor. “Terry? What’s going on?”
Nancy was home. Relieved, Molly’s shoulders relaxed. When the shouting didn’t cease, she continued gathering her cleaning supplies, shoving the rags into a grocery store bag and tucking it under her arm. Grabbing her bucket, Molly fled down the stairs, sneaking like a mouse trying to outsmart a barn cat. Thankfully, the stairs were carpeted. She arrived at the back door and shoved her feet into her boots.
The shouting grew frantic.
“Wait!” Nancy and Terry both screamed.
A single gunshot blasted.
Molly dropped her bucket and the bag, sending rags and cleaning supplies clattering across the white-and-yellow linoleum kitchen floor, making more noise than a flock of riled-up guinea hens. She fumbled with the back door, praying to escape before anyone found and caught her.
She had never been in such a situation before where she could feel danger stalking her. She needed to get out, get help. A gunshot in a house meant something bad was happening.
There was a thud in the back of the haus, followed by loud footsteps tromping to the closed doorway of the den. Whoever had fired that shot might be heading her way.
Now!
Finally pulling the door open, Molly threw herself out of the haus and raced down the doorway, ignoring the pain in her weak leg. The door had barely clicked shut when it burst open again.
“You!” the angry voice thundered behind her. It was the man who’d been shouting at Terry. Had he shot Terry or Nancy? How close was he? She didn’t take the time to look over her shoulder. A gun barked and a bullet thunked into a tree a foot away from her. She’d been right to leave. She had to find someone who could help.
Leaning forward, she pumped her arms and put on another burst of speed. She rounded the corner of the haus and ran down the driveway. Nancy’s Buick was parked in front of the left garage door. An unfamiliar yellow car blocked the other bay.
It had to belong to the man chasing her.
The man with the gun yelled at her again and pounded after her. His footsteps clomped nearer with every passing second.
He’s going to catch me.
She hit the pavement and tore off down the street, sobbing when she hit a small pile of gravel and her ankle twisted. She couldn’t stop. She continued running, the sore ankle causing her to limp and slowing her pace.
“Hey!” She turned her head. Terry Stevens ran out and tackled the man. They both went down in a pile of fists and fast punches on the side of the road.
Molly slowed. She wanted to keep running, but Terry could be in trouble. The stranger lifted his head and glared at her through angry dark eyes. Terry’s fist collided with his face. With a grunt, the man refocused on him.
Her eyes met Terry’s for a second.
“Go!” he screamed.
She ran, veering off the road and smashing into the trees, trespassing across the backyards of the hauser on the next street over. She hadn’t gone far before she heard another gunshot. Her blood turned to ice in her veins. She knew what had happened.
Nancy and Terry had both been shot. She had to somehow escape and inform the police. But how?
She didn’t pause until she was three blocks over in a more rural area where the occasional barn dotted the landscape. Bending at the waist, she opened her mouth and sucked in huge gulps of air. Pressing her hand against the ache in her side, she tried to plan.
Someone thrashing through the trees nearby informed her that her respite was over. But if she ran, there was no way to hide. He had a gun. If he shot now, here on the open street, anyone passing by could be harmed.
Out of options, she ran to the left and dropped down behind a white van, trembling, the blood pounding in her ears.
Please, Lord, don’t let him see me.
The front driver’s side of the van opened. She held her breath.
“I can only talk for a few minutes. I’m on a job...” a male voice said, clearly speaking into a phone, accompanied by the sound of shoes scuffing against the black tar driveway. Both sounds drifted away from the van. She inched toward the end of the van and peered around. The driver continued ambling toward the road, his back facing her.
A car crawled past him. It was the one that had been at the Stevenses’ haus. She jerked her head back behind the cover of the van, praying fervently. If he’d glimpsed her, she was as good as dead.
The vehicle continued past. The painful breath she’d been holding released in a hard exhale. She couldn’t walk away. Not when he was so close. Would he continue moving away, or would he circle back? Her options were gone.
Unless...
She stood up behind the van before she could talk herself out of it and opened the left door. It was full of farrier tools. Scrambling up inside, she closed the door, sealing her fate. Then she wedged herself into the right corner, directly behind where the driver would be sitting.
It was a foolish thing to do. She had trapped herself inside. The owner would be furious. But if she made it back to his workshop, she’d be alive, she’d be able to get help for the Stevenses and maybe he’d be willing to let her explain.
It was the only choice she could make with a killer searching for her. A killer who had seen her face.
* * *
Zeke Bender signed the handwritten invoice on his clipboard. He carefully separated the white customer copy from the triplicate form and handed it to the stable manager, taking the accordion-style file folder from under his arm and stuffing the pink and yellow carbon copies inside under his tab for Tuesday.
“Thanks, Zeke.” Chuck looked over the invoice, nodded, then pocketed it. “Great work, as usual. You’re the only farrier I trust to shoe my horses.”
“You’re welcome. I’d not use the paint mare for lessons for the next week. She’s not used to wearing shoes yet. She needs a few days to adjust.”
“I don’t have her slated to be put on the lesson schedule until the beginning of August, so we’re good.”
Zeke shook hands with Chuck. “I’ll be back in a week to check on her, say?”
“That’ll work. Whenever you show up, someone will be around.”
Zeke nodded, then turned to get into the van he’d hired for his appointments this week. The wagon he kept especially for his business was out of commission. He had built it himself. Behind its black cab, there was a flatbed surrounded on the sides by straights slats of black metal. Honestly, to him it resembled an Englisch pickup truck, just towed by a horse. Unfortunately, during a storm a few months ago, a tree had fallen on it and damaged several of the metal slats and bent the rear wheel axles. He would fix it as soon as he had the free time, but he had a full schedule at the moment.
Until then, he needed to rely on drivers.
The one he hired was currently AWOL, as Micah would say. Shaking his head, he settled into his seat to wait for Neil to show up, smiling slightly as he imagined his brother’s reaction to him using an Englisch acronym for “absent without official leave.” He’d learned several interesting terms from his older brother, an ex-Amish US deputy marshal.
The door opened, breaking into his thoughts. Neil hopped behind the wheel and pulled his seat belt into place.
“Sorry, Zeke.” The engine roared to life. Zeke winced. Neil should check out the muffler. The van sounded like a small airplane. “I had a call I had to take from my mom.”
Zeke nodded. One should never ignore their mothers. “It’s gut. This is my last appointment for the day. I can do the rest of my work from home.”
