Her Amish Protectors. Janice Kay Johnson
to deposit the money in the bank tomorrow morning.
Normally, she didn’t like to have money lying around. She made regular deposits to limit how much cash she had on hand in the store. But whatever Chief Slater said, Byrum seemed to be a peaceful small town. She read the local paper, and most of the crimes mentioned in it were trivial or had to do with teenagers or the weekend crowd at bars.
Nadia had locked up as soon as she was inside, checking and rechecking both the building’s front and back doors as well as the one at the foot of the staircase leading to her apartment.
Worrying came naturally to her, and the tendency had worsened drastically after—Nope, not gonna think about that, either.
Instead, she removed her heels and sighed with relief. Most people hadn’t had to dress up at all, the event having been advertised as Missouri summer casual, but since she’d opened the evening and closed it, she’d felt obligated to wear a favorite silk dress with cap sleeves while hoping it wasn’t obvious her legs were bare.
She took a cool shower, brushed her teeth and went to bed wearing only panties and a cotton camisole. She threw even the top sheet aside. The small air-conditioning unit in the window helped, but she usually turned it off at some point during the night. It didn’t just hum, it rattled, which was really annoying.
Maybe that’s why Mrs. Jefferson didn’t hear someone coming up the stairs.
Nadia groaned, but even as exhausted as she was, it was bound to wake her up later. Replacing it was on her wish list.
So, as she often did, she basked in the scant flow of chilly air until her eyelids grew heavy, then forced herself to crawl out of bed and turn off the air conditioner. Tonight, not even a sultry ninety degrees would keep her awake.
* * *
THE SCREECH OF the alarm jolted Nadia to enough consciousness to slap the button to shut it off. Then she moaned and buried her face in the pillow. Why hadn’t she planned to close the shop today?
Dumb question. Saturday was her busiest day in a typical week, and she bet lots of people would stop by just to share the excitement generated by last night’s event. Plus, she needed to slip out before noon to deposit the money, since the bank’s Saturday hours were so limited.
“Ugh.” Her eyelids felt as if they were glued shut, or maybe weighted down with a thin coating of cement. She had crashed last night. Unfortunately, her body wasn’t ready to reboot.
Another cool, or even icy-cold, shower would help, she decided. She just had to get up and make it that far.
With a whimper, she rolled out of bed. It only took a minute to gather clothes. Heading for the bathroom, she tried to decide why her entire body ached. Yes, she’d worked hard yesterday doing setup, and she’d been on her feet for hours on end, but she wasn’t in that bad shape.
Nadia had gotten all the way into the bathroom before her brain stuttered. No, no. I just didn’t see because I wasn’t looking.
So she set the neat pile of clothes on the countertop, then very slowly turned around. Through the open bathroom door, she could see her dresser. She could even see her reflection in the beveled mirror above the antique chest of drawers.
She just didn’t see the money box.
HAVING SLEPT POORLY last night, Ben was not happy when his phone rang while he was in the bathroom trying to scrape off the whiskers he’d grown since he last shaved at approximately 6:00 p.m. yesterday. He glared at himself in the mirror and groped for the phone. Half his face still covered with foam, he snapped, “Yeah?”
“Um...Chief?”
Recognizing the voice, he sighed. “Sergeant. Sorry. What’s up?”
“Ah, just had a call I thought you’d want to know about. Since you said you were going to that event last night.”
Tension crawled up his spine. “The quilt auction.”
“Yeah. The lady who organized it says somebody stole the money. She’s next thing to hysterical.”
How in hell...? “I know where she lives. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”
Incredulity and worry spinning in his head, he finished shaving, got dressed and went out the door without his usual second cup of coffee. In front of her building, he parked directly behind a squad car.
After he rapped lightly on the door that had a closed sign and no one came, he went in. An astonishing array of colors filled the space. Rows and rows of fabric on bolts flowed naturally from one shade to another, while quilts hung on every wall. At the rear was a door leading into another space that had been a storeroom in the past, but he knew Ms. Markovic was offering classes now, so maybe she’d converted it. The store was a whole lot more appealing than it had been the last time he’d been here, after Mrs. Jefferson’s death.
To his right, a wide doorway opened to a hall that gave access to a restroom for customers, ending at a back door. He was all too familiar with the layout, including the oddly shaped closet beneath the staircase. Ben stopped long enough now to examine the lock on the apartment door.
Voices came from above as he mounted the stairs. One step still creaked, resulting in abrupt silence above. Sure enough, Officer Grumbach appeared at the head of the staircase.
“Chief.” He looked relieved.
Ben nodded a greeting and entered the apartment.
Nadia sat in an easy chair, arms crossed and held tight to her body. Her mass of dark hair was loose and unbrushed. She wore a stretchy camisole with no bra beneath—he had to make a conscious effort not to let his gaze drop to those generous breasts—and what looked like thin sweatpants. Her face was pinched, even paler than last night. And her eyes fixed on him, unblinking.
He sat on the coffee table right in front of her. “Okay,” he said in a deliberately gentle voice, “tell me what happened.”
“I don’t know what happened!” she cried. “Like I’ve told him over and over.”
Hovering by the doorway, the young redheaded officer flushed.
“Let’s put it another way,” Ben said. “I saw you drive out of the parking lot last night.”
Her eyes widened. “You were still there?”
“I was. That was an awful lot of money you had.”
Her teeth chattered. “It never occurred to any of us that something like this could happen.”
“Now I wish I’d escorted you home, too,” he said.
Nadia shook her head. “I got home fine. I had the box. I thought of hiding it downstairs, but I decided to keep it close by instead. So I put it on the dresser in my bedroom.”
He went very still, not liking the implication.
Officer Grumbach cleared his throat. “When I checked, the back door was unlocked. And Ms. Markovic says the door at the foot of the stairs was unlocked this morning, too.”
“But I checked both last night!” Nadia’s voice rose. “I locked my apartment door and verified that I had. I did!”
Unable to help himself, Ben reached out and laid a hand over hers, now writhing in her lap. She froze, took a couple of deep breaths and continued in a quieter voice, “I worried a little, because I always do, but how could anyone get in?”
He frowned. “Are you a heavy sleeper?”
“Not usually, but I don’t think I’ve ever in my life been as tired as I was when I got home last night.”
“That’s understandable.” He took his hand back. “So you were locked up tight last night. The money box was sitting