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Levi shifted in his chair. “I admit, Roc, we jumped first and foremost to a difficult conception. But I went over to our Mennonite neighbors and used their telephone. I called the doctor in town. He’s the one in our district who looks after some of the women, especially those expecting. He hadn’t seen Rachel for over a month.”
“Since she had problems before,” Hannah explained, “we thought maybe she was having trouble and went straight to the hospital.”
“The simplest explanation is usually the most likely,” Roc agreed.
“Usually.” Levi nodded his agreement. His stony gaze revealed no doubts as to what he believed had happened to Rachel. But still the Amish man let Roc think it through without interrupting, without arguing his case. He simply waited. It was Hannah who reached over and touched her husband’s sleeve, but Levi cupped her hand, patted it once, twice, and they both watched Roc with solemn gazes.
Frustrated with them, with himself, with the whole situation, Roc pushed away from the table and walked toward the back door of their kitchen. He stared out the window at the yellow daisies planted around the base of a stout oak. Life had certainly been simpler before he’d ever come to Pennsylvania. If he’d been on a drinking binge for the last six months, then he could easily doubt all he’d seen, doubt his sanity, doubt the blood and bodies. But he hadn’t been drinking. His eyes had been opened to an even more frightening world than he’d ever known existed. And he couldn’t close his eyes just because he wished it away.
“But why?” he asked, without facing the Amish couple. “Why would he…Akiva…this vampire”—he emphasized the word they seemed reluctant to use—“want Rachel? It doesn’t make sense.” Roc remembered meeting the woman, Rachel, several months ago in his desperate search for a killer, before he really understood what evil he was trying to expose. She’d been newly married, and neither had known her husband would soon be dead. It wasn’t because the woman wasn’t desirable, but he wondered what suddenly made her attractive to a vampire. His gaze shifted from the peaceful scenery of farmland toward Hannah.
“I think…” She spoke softly as she stared down at her lap, the ties of her headpiece trailing downward. She wore the simple clothes he’d learned were required by the Amish. The white kapp, the plain dress of some earthy tone, this one being green, the apron pinned in place with straight pins, and the solid black tennis shoes.
“It’s all right, Hannah,” Levi said in a soothing voice.
She gave a bob of her head. “I think he wants to hurt me.” She glanced up then, her brown eyes seeking understanding from Roc. “Because of what happened.”
Roc remembered how Hannah had agreed to go with Akiva. It had been her sacrificial attempt to save Levi. But the vampire had pushed her away, not wanting her without love, if her heart had belonged to Levi. None of it frankly made sense to Roc at the time and made even less now. But if anyone knew Akiva, Hannah did. Still, the voice of reason intruded. “It’s been six months. Why now?”
“Why not now?” she asked in return.
“But why wait so long?” Roc persisted.
“Maybe,” Levi suggested, “Akiva was waiting for the right opportunity. As I said, we had been keeping a close eye on Rachel.”
Roc quirked an eyebrow. “So you thought Akiva would return?”
Levi rubbed his jaw where it was covered by a thick growth of beard. “We worried about Rachel, wanted to help her if she needed it. But I also had concerns, not only for Rachel, but also for Hannah. Revenge is a powerful tool.”
“Akiva…Jacob”—Hannah used the vampire’s human name, the boy she had known and loved—“he knew Rachel. She went with him to New Orleans during their rumschpringa years.”
Both of Roc’s eyebrows lifted. “Were they together back then?” He wasn’t sure Hannah and Levi understood what he meant by that particular English word. “Were they dating? Or whatever you call it?”
Hannah plucked at the ties of her headpiece. “I don’t think so…but…”
“But” told him more than anything else. He read the hesitation in her eyes. She wasn’t sure. “But what? The more I know the easier it will be for me to find them, to help her.”
Hannah rolled her lips inward before speaking. “Rachel wanted Josef even then, but I’m not sure what went on between her and Jacob. She said nothing about that time, but…”
When she didn’t continue, he voiced her doubts: “You’re not so sure.”
Her slim shoulder lifted in a shrug. “I wasn’t there. It is not for me to say anyway. Gossip is—”
“Gossip is about all we have to go on, apparently.” Roc walked over to the table and took a long drink of the sweetened tea, the ice clanking in the glass. Rattled, he focused on the details. Details mattered. “Do you have a recent picture of Rachel?”
Hannah shook her head. “We don’t hold with—”
“Yeah, yeah, I know.” He frowned. Searching for a missing person was never easy. The list of those missing in each state was astronomical and sobering. But the Amish rules for not allowing photographs complicated things. “No photographs. The Ordnung should reconsider just for safety purposes.”
“The Lord is in control,” Levi stated.
“If you were so convinced of that, then why did you call me?” Roc challenged.
“The good Lord can use you too, Roc. And I believe He will help us to find Rachel.”
Roc could never understand this quiet young man’s rock-solid, unshakable faith. Was it faith or rationalization? Levi had no idea what they were up against, much less the odds of ever finding Rachel. Alive or dead. And without a photograph, the odds of identifying her went down too. “Did she ever go to a dentist, have x-rays taken?”
Hannah nodded. “Of course.”
“Well, that’s a start.” He saw a piece of paper on the counter, grabbed it along with a pencil, then thrust it in front of Hannah. “I need you to write out a description of your sister: hair, eye color, height, weight, moles, scars, tattoos, any identifying marks, birth date. Anything else you can add that might be helpful.”
His statement was met with silence. For a long moment, they simply stared at each other, waiting…Waiting for what? Roc wasn’t even sure what to do, where to go. Would going to the police help Rachel? Maybe he’d let Levi handle that aspect, so he could begin searching. But where?
“Where was she last seen?”
“At the Troyers’,” Levi said while Hannah wrote out a description of Rachel on the paper. “She was working there each morning, picking strawberries and vegetables for their stand.”
“The Troyers on Slow Gait Road?”
Levi nodded.
“And who was the last to see Rachel alive?”
Hannah flinched, and he immediately regretted phrasing it that way. But at the same time, she had to understand what they were up against. Or maybe she already knew—as long as she knew there were worse things than death.
Levi reached over and took hold of Hannah’s hand. “Eli Troyer. He’s but a boy.”
“Can I talk to him?”
“He doesn’t know anything.”
“Levi—” Hannah stopped herself.
The corners of Levi’s mouth compressed. “I spoke to him earlier. He knew nothing.”
Hannah twisted her hands together. “That’s what he said.”
Roc raised an eyebrow of doubt. Obviously Hannah hadn’t believed the boy. “Won’t hurt for me to try.”
“Then I will take you to him.”
“Can you go after them…Akiva and Rachel?” Hannah laid the pen across the paper. “Bring my sister home?”
Roc rubbed the back of his neck. Where would he begin? Where would Akiva have gone? And if the vampire wanted revenge, why hadn’t he killed Rachel here? Why hadn’t he left her body for Hannah to find? There were too many q
uestions, too many unknowns. “Yes to the first, but I don’t know on the second. No promises.”
“We aren’t asking for any guarantees. The matter is in the Lord’s hands.” Levi stood and walked to the door where he retrieved his hat off a peg in the wall. “We don’t have much, Roc, but we will pay you.”
“I don’t want your money, Levi.”
“What do you want?” Hannah asked.
Roc released a pent-up breath. “For this to be over.”
Chapter Eight
The automobile glided along the highway, passing vegetable stands, suburbs, and eventually the state line. Blinking only rarely, Rachel stared at the streaks of colors, unfazed by the speed of departure. Her mind fixated on nothing. She wasn’t nervous about riding in the car like some Amish were. She wasn’t worried about the future. She wasn’t afraid of the man sitting next to her. She simply felt numb.
Greens and blues and yellows mingled and shifted from one color to the next until it became a rainbow of hues, distorting any distinctive lines and blurring all landmarks into a kaleidoscope of hazy objects that meant nothing and couldn’t hold her attention.
Even though bright sunlight streamed through the windows, the air-conditioning kept her cool and comfortable. Eventually the constant blowing against her face irritated her, and she angled the vent away from her. A light cascade of music trickled out of the speakers behind her. Mostly instrumental, it did not hold her attention either but cocooned her in a sheltered world all her own.
She rested her hands in her shrinking lap, her arms tucked around the mound of her belly. A sudden kick of her baby nudged her arm and jarred her out of the cobwebs of her thoughts. A glimpse of a billboard, advertising a restaurant in Baltimore, caught her attention. Baltimore? As in Maryland?
She sat up straighter and gripped a leather strap along the door. What was she doing here? Why had she agreed to come? For Josef, but what could she do for her husband now? Where were they going?
“I need to stop.” She spoke before thinking, meaning the car, the trip, this madness.
Akiva glanced over at her, his brows slanting into a frown. “What for?”
The baby kicked again, and she pressed her hand against her belly. “Because…I have to stop.”
Akiva’s gaze shifted downward toward her belly. “I’ll look for a gas station.”
She nodded and kept her gaze trained on the windshield, searching for an exit, but all the while trying to think of what to do, where to go, how to get back home. “Where are we going?”
“Tonight?”
“Ja, tonight.” She could think no farther.
“Knoxville or thereabouts. We’ll see how far we can make it. But I wasn’t planning on making stops.”
“Knoxville?” She swallowed a sudden lump in her throat. Knoxville, Tennessee? Her shoulders tensed with indecision. “How far are we going in all?”
He tapped his index finger against the top of the steering wheel. “I’ll let you know.”
“Is there a hurry?” she asked.
“Aren’t you in one?”
She lifted a shoulder and settled it back into place. “Ja, I suppose.” She smoothed a hand over her belly, straightening the blue fabric of her dress and the overlaying apron. He’d said if she helped she could return home to have her baby. The sooner the better. “I reckon I didn’t think we’d go this far…or for so long.” A weight of worry pressed into her chest. “My family will be worried. I should have told them—”
“I left them a note for you, so they wouldn’t worry.”
A flurry of whispers invaded her thoughts. She glanced at him then, studied his profile: the straight edge of his nose, the firm jutting of his jaw and chin. He didn’t seem the type to leave a note, to reveal his inner thoughts, to broadcast his intentions, and yet she had no reason to doubt him. “You left a note?”
“Of course. I didn’t want to cause any problems. Your sister will understand and keep your folks from worrying overmuch.”
Rachel drew a steadier breath as a swirling cloud swept over her, but the questions, excuses, and reasons she should turn back pushed her clear. “But I need to get home. The baby is coming soon.”
“Not that soon.” He nudged the wheel gently to the right, and the car veered off the highway and onto a side road. Up ahead, a gas-station sign tilted at an odd angle, and the lower right corner was broken. “Want me to get you something to drink while you visit the ladies’ room?”
She hadn’t realized she was thirsty or hungry. She hadn’t realized a lot of things. It was as if a cloud bank crept over the edges of her mind and turned her around. “That would be nice, danke.”
He pulled to the side of the brick building. One lone, dilapidated car was parked toward the back, and she figured it belonged to whoever was working inside. Could she speak to that person? Would he…or she help her call home? Or at least a neighbor? Akiva parked, and Rachel stared straight ahead. On the side of the building were two doors, both with oval signs, one with a male figure, the other with a lady’s shape.
“I’ll meet you here,” he said.
Disappointment congealed inside her. She wouldn’t have to go inside the actual building, and she wouldn’t have a chance to speak to the attendant. After a moment, Akiva whispered, “Come on.”
Rachel pushed open the car door. It took a moment for her to unfold her legs and get to a standing position, as the baby was in the way and sitting on her bladder. Her joints ached, and the muscles along her lower back cramped. She arched her back and leaned against the car for a second before heading toward the restroom.
“Right here.” Akiva’s voice trailed after her.
She turned, shading her eyes against the blood-red setting sun, and nodded. “Where else would I go?”
“Exactly.” His point poked through the hazy cloud and chilled her.
When she reached the marked door, it was locked. She stepped away, waiting for whoever might be inside. But maybe there wasn’t anyone in there. No other cars were in the parking area, just the rundown one. Maybe she needed a key, and she could speak to the person inside the building after all.
She turned and almost bumped straight into Akiva. He glared down at her.
Licking her dry lips, she explained, “It’s locked.”
He didn’t move out of her way.
“I’ll go ask for a key,” she suggested.
He reached past her and folded his hand around the metal knob. “Sometimes these doors are tricky.” He gave the knob a shake then turned it, his hand squeezing hard, and pushed the door open. “No one is in here. No key needed.”
She gave him a nod, ducked her head, and entered the dark room. Behind her, Akiva flipped the light switch, and the overhead bulb fluttered and caught, giving off an eerie glow. Then he left her alone.
For a full minute, she stood in the quiet of the small room, and the haziness disappeared. The gray floor sported stains she didn’t want to analyze. The white enamel sink contained a pool of pink liquid soap along one side. Graffiti had been scribbled on the walls in black marker, red lipstick, and blue pen. The flickering fluorescent bulb gave her skin a slightly green hue, and she stared at her reflection in the mirror. Her eyes were wide, her lips pale. She touched her cool cheek.
What should she do? What could she do?
But the answer came as soon as she thought the question. There was really no question, no other answer. She would go with Akiva. And she would pray to the good Lord she would return home soon.
Resigned to continue the journey, she washed her hands before opening the door again. Of course, Akiva was waiting for her, leaning a hip against the side of his car, his gaze hard and impenetrable.
***
The plastic lemonade bottle tilted precariously, and Rachel jerked awake at the cold touch of someone’s
hand on hers. “You’re about to spill your drink.”
“Danke.” She cupped the bottle with both hands. The remaining pink liquid was warm, but she drank down a tart gulp. Her neck ached from her head bobbing and swaying while she slept as Akiva drove. Darkness stared back at her through the windshield, fog filled her head, and nothing looked familiar. She blinked, trying to clear her thoughts from sleep. The sun had long since set, and now headlights glared at her as cars passed on the other side of the highway, going where she wanted to go.
She shifted in her seat, straightening out her legs, feeling her calf muscles contract. “Where are we?”
“Tennessee.”
His answer stunned her. “Already?”
“You tired?”
“A little.” She shifted in the seat, her backside not quite numb. “You must be too. You’ve been driving a long time.”
“We’re almost there.”
Why did his pronouncement stir a froth of distress inside her? “And what will we do there?”
“You can sleep if you want.”
Sleep would be good. Normal. But what was the purpose of coming to Tennessee? What was the purpose of all of this? Her stomach gurgled, either rejecting the lemonade or begging for more. “Maybe we could get a bite to eat.”
His gaze slanted toward her, and his mouth curved in a half smile. “Of course. I am hungry too.”
His deep tone and dark look made her stomach clench.
A few minutes later, he pulled into a motel parking lot and left her in the car alone, making the locks click into place as a squawk and beep sounded. She waited as he walked into the motel’s lobby. It took only a few minutes before he returned with a key. One key.
Stunned, she blurted out, “We’re staying in the same room?”
“Seriously, Rachel, you’re worried about that?” He chuckled as he slid back into the driver’s seat and started the engine. Driving around the corner of the yellow-painted building, he parked near the back. “I got a downstairs room so you don’t have to climb any stairs.”