Material Witness (16 page)

He lowered his weapon.

As they sped past, Shane focused on the ghoulish black mask the driver was wearing — and the single spot of white that came from his smile. The woman in the passenger seat wore something similar, but her mask was a chalky gray. Based on what little Shane could see, she looked flat-out angry. Bright eyes peeked out from eye holes, and nostrils flared.

They were impressions made in a split second, but the overall effect was bizarre.

Shane pulled out his phone. “I want all available vehicles to pursue a blue Smart Car headed south past the square. No license plate visible from the back, but the front bumper is dented on the driver’s side.”

He listened for less than ten seconds before interrupting Taylor. “Yes, I’m sure it’s him. He’s arrogant. He’s rubbing it in our faces — that’s why he chose such a conspicuous car.”

This time he had to hold the phone away from his ear. The captain didn’t holler for long. “I didn’t fire my weapon, but my cover is blown. Now put our units on every route to the toll road and alert the security team at the toll-road authority office to watch the cameras.”

Snapping the phone shut, he returned it to his pocket, then checked his Glock and attempted to move the crowd away from the sight. “Everyone’s okay, folks. The danger’s passed, and you shouldn’t be standing in the middle of the street, so go on with your business.”

“My ice-cream cart is ruined.” An older gentleman with a completely bald head stood looking at his cart, which was now caved-in on the side that said
Fresh Homemade Ice Cream
.

“I need to check on the kids, Fred.”

“I need to sell this ice cream before it melts. And when did the police start dressing like chain-saw carvers?”

Shane ignored the question and hurried over to the boys.

“That was him, wasn’t it?” Aaron’s voice was ragged and his eyes were huge, but he didn’t appear to be hurt.

Matt looked angry — not that Shane could blame him. Getting mowed down by a Smart Car in broad daylight would raise most anyone’s temper — child or adult.

“Yeah, I think it was. You boys okay?” He didn’t see any sign of injury.

“He looked different.”

“He was wearing a mask,” Shane explained.

“I’ve never seen a mask like that before.” Matt pulled Aaron’s chair farther out of the sidewalk traffic. “Lots of
Englisch
kids wear masks around Halloween. Never seen any like that, and I had a pretty close look at those two in the car since they practically ran over us.”

“From where I was, seemed like they were wearing the more expensive skintight type. They conform precisely to your features,

but still manage to mask your identity. The effect can be fairly disturbing.” Shane inspected both boys. “You’re sure you’re okay?”

Aaron nodded.

Matt frowned even more. “
Ya
. We’re getting used to this stuff.”

Shane looked out at the crowd, most of which had dispersed. A few folks continued to mill around, talking, some even pointing at Shane and the children. “Deborah was supposed to find you before you made it to town. I didn’t want you here today. Where are your parents?”

“
Dat
’s with Hannah over by the dancers.” Matt drummed his fingers against the chair. “Our
mamm
was going to arrive a little later. She had to pick up some pies, take them to our
aenti
’s booth.”

“All right. I want you to stay with me. We’re going together to find your dad, and he’s going to get you out of here.”

Shane started to lead them away, but Aaron reached up and stopped him. When his hand closed around Shane’s arm, something inside of Shane began to melt like a scoop of Fred’s ice cream dropped on the pavement on a warm summer day.

He’d done his best to remain detached.

On every case he kept an emotional distance, because he thought it made him more objective, helped him to do a better job.

But when Aaron wrapped his fingers around Shane’s arm and looked up into his eyes — looked up with fear but also hope — Shane knew he wouldn’t be able to keep all of his barriers in place during this investigation.

“You don’t think he’ll try to kill us again, do you?”

“Not today.”

“That’s a relief,” Matt muttered. “At least we can grab some food in peace.”

Shane recognized the anger and frustration in the boy’s voice,
but he didn’t call him on it. In fact, Matt reminded Shane of himself. He’d been the same age as this boy when he’d been caught up in a similar drama, a drama he’d rather not dwell on.

But Shane understood the need to protect one’s family ran deep.

When you couldn’t protect your family, when you were too young or too weak, it broke something in you. Something it sometimes took years to heal.

E
STHER WAS IN THE KITCHEN,
scrubbing vegetables in the sink, when she saw the first of the buggies traveling down the lane. By the time they trundled past the pond, the same pond where she’d once stopped to pick flowers and found a young girl’s body, she was standing on the front porch, wiping her hands on a dishtowel.

“Simon asleep?” Tobias asked her, loping up onto the porch in three long strides. He stood close, as if he needed to protect her, but they both knew the buggies approaching carried friends.

Friends who needed their help.

“He’s awake, but in his crib. I thought it best to leave him there for the moment.”

Tobias glanced back through the screen door.

“Don’t worry.” Esther reached up, touched the beard that had come in so thick during the past year. “We’ll hear him through the open window if he cries.”

A grin spread across Tobias’ face. “
Ya
. His cry is healthy.”

“How would you know? You jump up in the middle of the night before his second yelp is out of his mouth.” She meant it half as a tease and half as a scold. She feared her husband was spoiling their son, and Esther was not one to indulge a child. But Tobias didn’t even bother to deny it. The smile on his face grew, and he
even chuckled. He was impossible. He was worse than Leah on Christmas.

“
Mamm
, is everyone coming to dinner?” Leah, Esther’s three-year-old daughter from her first marriage, put down the two dolls she’d been playing with on the porch swing and walked over to join them.

“Yes, Leah.”

“Like on Sundays?”

“Just like on Sundays,” Tobias said.

There were now four buggies in sight, and Esther wouldn’t relax until at least one
Englisch
car had been added to the mix. She wanted her friends near her and safe. She wanted this thing to be over.

Melinda pulled up first. All three children were riding with her. Noah had brought the second buggy, and Esther wondered about that. Did it mean he wasn’t intending to stay?

Behind them Deborah drove her smaller buggy, and Jonas drove the large buggy filled with all five of their children.

They’d barely come to a stop when Reuben walked out of the barn he insisted on living in despite the fact that there was plenty of room in the house. Over dinner last night she’d once again asked him why he wouldn’t move into the extra bedroom, but Reuben had simply scratched his sideburns, winked, and said he expected that room would be full before very long.

Reuben was Tobias’ cousin, but the two might as well have been brothers. They’d worked the farm together for years. Perhaps they were close because they’d both waited to marry, which was unusual in their community. Reuben was still single. Sometimes she wondered if he would always be single. There was a story there Esther still hadn’t heard — a story Tobias claimed he didn’t know. She hoped Reuben would share it with her one day, but she realized it might remain a mystery. He was private about some things.

One thing Esther was sure of: his heart had been broken long ago and he hadn’t allowed himself to love again.

But despite how close they were, Reuben and Tobias didn’t look alike — both were tall men, but any similarities ended there. Whereas Tobias was thin like a poplar tree, Reuben reminded Esther of the sycamore. He was a big man with the most tender heart she’d ever encountered. That he’d nearly been convicted of a murder he didn’t commit and nearly had to spend his entire life in jail still astounded her. That he would be willing to be convicted in order to save a young Amish man from the
Englisch
justice system was something she didn’t understand at all. Esther was raised to embrace and practice grace; yet Reuben’s actions exceeded anything she’d ever encountered. Even her own dealings with the boys who had accidentally killed her first husband weren’t the same. In that accident, those involved had come directly to her almost immediately to confess and ask her forgiveness.

Reuben’s situation was entirely different.

Wasn’t it?

Before she could worry over the questions any longer, Melinda’s and Deborah’s children tumbled out of their respective buggies — Aaron helped into his wheelchair by Noah.

The men immediately turned to tending to the mares.

“I should go help with the horses,” Tobias murmured. He ran his hand across the back of her neck, and then he was gone.

Even after a year, she wasn’t accustomed to his devotion.

Even after a year, she sometimes woke afraid it was all a dream and that she would find herself still alone.

“Has anyone heard from Callie?” Esther asked, meeting them halfway between their buggies and the house.

“Shane told Noah they’d be here in time for dinner,” Melinda said.

“We stopped at the phone shack,” Deborah added. “There were no messages.”

As Esther watched the children, she could almost believe it
was a normal evening. She wanted to believe that, but her heart told her otherwise.

“Yes, you may go and play,” Melinda said to Matthew. “But stay close so you’ll hear us call.”

“Martha, will you take Joshua?” Deborah asked as her youngest ran to his big sister.

“Sure,” Martha said.

“
Mamm
, may I pick some of Esther’s flowers?” Mary asked, tugging on her mother’s hand.

“Not the ones from the garden.”

“The wild ones? In the field?”

“As long as you watch for snakes.”

“We’ll walk with her,” Martha assured Deborah.

“We brought a baseball and a bat,” Matt interrupted, pointing to a canvas bag in Aaron’s lap.

“Baseball or flowers?” Martha asked Mary.

“Can we do both?”

“If we hurry.”

“Best place for baseball is behind the barn.” Esther nodded toward the east pasture.

“Yes!” Jacob and Joseph, Deborah’s six-year-old twins, bounded away.

“Stay clear of any mud,” Deborah called out after them.

Esther pressed her fingers to her lips, trying to stop the laugh that wanted out. These were not laughing times, but Deborah’s boys … they did have a way of finding trouble.

“Why are you smiling, Esther Fisher?” Deborah climbed the steps and dropped onto the wooden swing.

“I’m not.” She did her best to appear serious.

“You might as well confess. We both saw you,” Melinda said.

“It’s your boys, Deborah.”

“They would make any sane person laugh,” Deborah agreed.

“Or cry.” Melinda set Hannah down on a blanket, dug a picture book from her bag, and handed it to her.

“It’s not that they’re bad,” Deborah said. “It’s that they seem to be able to create work, no matter how hard they try not to.”

“I was thinking …” Esther trailed off and shook her head.

“Say it.” Deborah set the swing in motion. “After today I could use the distraction.”

“I was thinking how much they remind me of Jonas. Do you remember when we were their age? How he would always go out at recess. We’d be playing, and he’d —”

“Disappear.” Melinda looked up from her place on the blanket beside Hannah. “I always wondered where he went.”

“To the creek? To the water pump? Who knows. I was busy playing with you two, so it never occurred to me to ask him. I didn’t know I was going to marry him and bear his children.” Deborah laughed.

“He always came back muddy or with a critter or —”

“With something bleeding or broken.” Deborah stopped the swing with her foot. “You’re right. I should have known. They take after their father.”

Somehow the moment of shared memories eased the worries of the day. They smiled, the three of them, and Esther felt the knot of worry that had been building at the base of her neck relax.

“I was washing vegetables. I left them in the sink.”

“I’ll help,” Deborah said.

A piercing cry split the afternoon’s peace.

“Bring me that sweet
boppli
before Tobias gets here and steals him away,” Melinda said. “I’ll be happy to rock him.”

“You’re lucky to have the chance,” Esther said to Melinda.

As they walked inside to pick up Simon and finish the vegetables, she admitted to Deborah, “I told Melinda earlier. Tobias is spoiling this child. I barely have the chance to hold him myself — mostly when Tobias is in the field.”

“Remember, it’s his first.”

“
Ya
. With Leah I did jump as soon as she cried — in the
beginning.” Esther gazed down at her son. He was beautiful. “Then
Mamm
told me that I didn’t have to hurry so. That it wouldn’t hurt her if I walked slowly from the clothesline into the house to answer cries. She wasn’t hurt, only calling me, and as long as she knew I would answer, it was all right to go at a measured pace.”

Deborah leaned over the crib, reached forward, and caressed the top of Simon’s head. “Be glad that Tobias cares for him so much, Esther, and that he’s willing to help. Some men aren’t.”

“You’re right. It’s only that I don’t want a child who’s rotten.” She laughed. “You’ve seen them, Deborah, so don’t look at me so. We’ve both seen them — Amish and
Englisch
.”

“I have, and I know you won’t have one. Look at Leah. You’ve done a fine job with her.”

Esther smiled. She loved her daughter, and she was grateful God had given her this second chance to have a family. Deborah was right — she shouldn’t worry so. It seemed with babies there was always something to be anxious about.