Plain Danger. Debby Giusti
lawyer was midforties, with whitened teeth, bushy eyebrows and a ruddy complexion that made her wonder if he frequented a tanning salon.
“I heard something had happened along Amish Road,” he said, his voice somber. “Although I wasn’t sure if the information I received was accurate. So you’re saying a soldier was killed behind Jeff’s house?”
“In the open field but close to the woods. As you can imagine, I’m upset and confused. Is there something you failed to tell me about my father?”
Surprise registered on his puffy face. “Surely you’re not implying your father was involved in anything that would lead to a soldier’s death.”
“You tell me.”
“Jeff was a good man, Carrie. He did a lot for Freemont and was well respected. The Harris family has been a part of this town’s history since the early 1800s. Your father inherited the house and property from his maiden aunt some years back. He worked hard to restore the home to its former beauty, and since then, he’s been a pillar of the town.”
“Pillars can crumble.”
He laughed off the comment. “I told you someone has expressed an interest in buying the property. It’s something to consider. You’re probably eager to return to Washington. I can handle the paperwork and expedite the sale.”
She held up her hand. “It’s too soon, George. I’m not ready to sell.”
“You’re upset, no doubt, about what happened last night. Take a few days to think it over. I’m sure the offer will please you.”
“I came here today to find out more about my father’s estate and especially his property. You didn’t mention the trailer he rented.”
“My mistake. You were tired yesterday. I hesitated taking up more of your time.”
He taped a manila envelope on his desk. “A plat of the property is inside. Your father owned a hundred and twenty acres and the house. He rented out a trailer, usually to one of the soldiers from post. Almost half of his land is prime farmland. The rest is wooded.”
“And you have an interested buyer for both the land and the house?”
“That’s correct.”
“Can you assure me the property won’t be cut up for development?”
“I’m not sure what the buyer’s plan would be, but it’s nothing you need to concern yourself with at this point.”
She leaned closer. “But it is my concern, George. I don’t want to disrupt the beauty of the Amish community.”
“Yes, of course. I understand.”
Did he? Carrie wasn’t sure about George Gates or his too-accommodating responses.
By the time she shook his hand in farewell, she had even more questions about her father, his past and her future.
Leaving the office, she hurried to her car and clicked the remote opener. Before she reached for the door handle, someone called her name. Turning, she spied Tyler Zimmerman climbing from a car parked on the opposite side of the lot.
In the light of day, he looked even taller and more muscular. Maybe it was the navy slacks and tweed sports coat he wore. For a moment she wondered why he wasn’t in military uniform before recalling that CID agents wore civilian attire when working on a case. She’d stumbled upon the information while researching a speech for Senator Kingsley. Something about not wanting rank to interfere with their investigation.
“I didn’t expect to see you here,” she said in greeting.
He smiled as he neared. “I wanted to talk to Mr. Gates.”
“You need a lawyer?”
His eyes twinkled, making him appear even more handsome.
“I want to talk to Mr. Gates about your father’s rental property,” he explained. “And see if he can provide information about your dad’s relationship with Corporal Fellows.”
When she didn’t respond, he added, “I’m just gathering information, Ms. York.”
“Carrie, please.”
He smiled again.
Her heart skittered in her chest, making her feel like an adolescent schoolgirl. Too young and too foolish. Needing to shield herself from his charm, she clutched the manila envelope close as if it could offer protection.
He cocked his head. “What are you up to today?”
She tried to sound nonchalant. “In search of a grocery store.”
“There’s one on the way out of town. Turn left at Harvest Road. The supermarket’s two blocks down on the left.”
“Thanks.” She opened her car door and slipped behind the wheel. “Good seeing you, Tyler.”
Leaving the lot, she glanced back as the special agent opened the door to Gates Law Firm and stepped inside. Rounding the corner, she passed an Amish teenager who watched her turn right. Seeing the special agent had put her on edge. The pensive stare of the Amish boy added to her unease.
After a quick stop at the grocery store, she drove out of town, heading back to her father’s house. Even the pretty countryside couldn’t lessen her anxiety. In the distance, dark clouds filled the sky. Her heart felt as heavy as the thick cloud cover.
If only she could go back to the stories her mother had told her about the handsome army man who had swept her mother off her feet. They’d been young and in love and...well, things happened, including babies, or so she had explained when Carrie was old enough to learn the truth.
Only part of it had been a lie.
Her father hadn’t died in a covert black ops mission as her mother had led her to believe. He wasn’t part of the military’s elite Delta Force, and the army hadn’t covered up his death and withheld information from the grieving girlfriend who was pregnant with his child.
Now Carrie knew the truth, but counter to what scripture said, it hadn’t set her free. Instead she felt tied in knots and suddenly connected to a man and a past she didn’t understand, which only confirmed her upset with God. Why would He turn His back on a woman who always longed for a father’s love? Evidently she and her problems didn’t carry weight.
The special agent only confused her more. He’d been civil enough today, and his smile had seemed sincere, yet she had to be careful and cautious, especially after his antagonistic comments last night.
Carrie glanced again at the sky and turned on the windshield wipers as the first drops of rain began to fall. A road sign warned of a sharp curve ahead. She lifted her foot from the accelerator and placed both hands on the wheel as the car entered the turn.
A bolt of lightning cut through the dark clouds, followed by a clash of thunder that made her flinch. The tires lost traction for a heartbeat on the slick roadway. She turned the wheel to the right and tapped the brake, relieved when the car responded.
Coming around the curve, she glanced ahead and gasped. A semi-trailer was bearing down on her, going much too fast. Heart in her throat, she intensified her hold on the steering wheel, feeling the pull as the truck flew past with less than an inch to spare.
Too close.
Clunk-clunk-clunk.
Startled by the sound, she gripped the wheel even more tightly. The car shimmied, then jolted as the rear left side dropped. She glanced back, seeing a tire roll across the roadway.
A grating sound. Metal dragging against pavement. Her heart raced. The car veered left, crossed the center line and crashed into the ditch that edged the roadway.
Rain pelted the windshield. She struggled to free herself and clawed at the door, unable to push it open.
“Help!” she cried, knowing