Guarding The Amish Midwife. Dana R. Lynn

Guarding The Amish Midwife - Dana R. Lynn


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off the normal route. She had considered holding her silence.

      Let it go, she told herself.

      But she couldn’t. Lizzy liked to know where she was going. Being taken somewhere against her will once was enough for her. Since that time, she always knew where she was going. In the back of her mind, she knew that it was so if she ever needed to find help, she would have landmarks and locations to rely on. Right now, she didn’t have either, having never traveled to Ohio by this current route. It was more than she was comfortable with.

      “Excuse me, Bill,” she had shouted to be heard above the radio. She had to shout twice before he responded.

      Scowling, he had reached out and pushed a button as if she were inconveniencing him, and not the other way around. The song cut off mid-word. She was grateful for the quiet. “Yeah?”

      She swallowed. “Um, I was just wondering why we weren’t taking I-80? That’s the way Sue normally takes.”

      “I need to make a quick stop on the way there. An errand I need to take care of. It won’t take long.” He had then jabbed the button with his index finger and the raucous music again filled the car.

      She had been irritated, both with him and with herself. She was especially annoyed with the lack of control she had over the entire situation. Her mood hadn’t improved when the rain had started to fall in fat, heavy drops on the windshield. She’d actually cringed when the man beside her had bitten off a word that was, at best, rude.

      Biting her lip, Lizzy had done her best to ignore her growing anxiety. She saw the sign welcoming them into Ohio with a sigh of relief. At least she knew they were traveling in the correct direction. When Bill pulled off into an empty parking lot, she was confused. What could he be doing here? Lizzy glanced at the clock again. Thirty-five minutes had passed since Bill had left her in this car in the middle of nowhere.

      Enough was enough. Lizzy was suddenly tired of allowing her anxiety to control her actions, and her life. She firmed her jaw and reached for the door handle, deliberately ignoring the way her stomach muscles tightened and clenched at the idea of an impending confrontation. She would not back down. Whatever his errand was, Bill needed to finish it quickly or come back to it after he dropped her off at her cousin’s house.

      Lizzy straightened the black bonnet that covered the white prayer kapp she wore on her head. The bonnet would at least provide some protection from the rain. She stepped out and began to walk in the direction she’d seen Bill go. Within a minute, her cloak was soaked through. Ack! Her feet kicked up more rain onto her black stockings and the hem of her dark blue dress as she trod through the puddles. The sudden discomfort she was experiencing was just one more irritation.

      Up ahead, she heard voices. Loud and angry voices. She paused; the manners her parents had instilled in her said it was rude to interrupt a conversation. Then she decided she didn’t care. As she drew closer, she could hear Bill’s voice raised. He sounded upset. She slowed again. Maybe she should go back and wait in the car again. No. She was done with waiting. It was bad enough that she had to travel with a man, even the brother of a friend. She just wanted to be on her way and get to Addie’s house.

      Determined, Lizzy walked faster.

      Rounding the building, she saw Bill standing with another man. At a glance, she noted that the second man had dark hair curling around his ears. He would have been handsome, but something about him was sinister. Even as she opened her mouth to call out to Bill, the other man pulled out a gun and shot him. Shocked, she watched, frozen, as Bill crumpled to the ground. For a few seconds, her mind refused to believe what her eyes had just seen.

       I cannot stay here!

      Spinning on her heel, Lizzy raced back to the car, the puddles making her steps slower than they would normally have been.

      The sound her feet made slapping the water was also very loud in the silence following the shooting.

      Within seconds, she heard a shout from where she’d just fled. She had been noticed. She didn’t slow down. The sound of running steps behind her encouraged her to run faster. She hopped into the idling car and muttered a prayer of thanksgiving. She hadn’t driven since her own rumspringa and wasn’t sure she’d be able to advance the vehicle quickly enough to escape. She hit the door locks. They clicked. The man slammed against the passenger window. Screaming, she jumped. Fury twisted his features as the man who had shot her driver pounded on the window.

      He backed up. The gun was still in his hand. She knew he was going to try to shoot her, too. The adrenaline hit hard, and her heart rate sped up. She felt like she couldn’t get enough air as the panic began to ratchet up in her belly. She couldn’t afford to have a panic attack now.

      She was not going to wait for it to happen. Thankfully, her sister, Rebecca, had taught her how to drive. Sort of. The tires squealed as she yanked the gearshift back. The car jerked forward. The front wheel rammed into the curb and the car rocked, hitting the ground again with a hard bounce.

      A gunshot rang out and the back passenger window shattered.

      Spinning the wheel, Lizzy pressed her foot down on the gas pedal so hard that she could feel the tires grinding into the gravel and spitting it out before the car jolted forward and sped down the road, away from the man who wanted her dead. A screech and a horn blaring behind her told her that she had cut someone off.

      She kept going. The man who had shot Bill would recognize his car. She had to put as much distance between herself and the killer as possible.

      * * *

      Police officer Isaac Yoder sat up in his parked patrol car as a dark blue sedan that had seen better days raced toward him through the heavy rain, swerving on the wet roads. The driver went over the edge of the road and onto the shoulder three times, the way a frightened rabbit veers back and forth when trying to escape an oncoming car. At one point, Isaac was sure that he saw the vehicle’s left wheels lift off the surface of the road.

      The driver had to be drunk or having some sort of issue, possibly health related, like a heart attack. It was also possible that it was a teenager texting. Whatever the reason for the erratic driving, he needed to pull the car over now. No one drove that way in fair weather if they were fully competent. Add in the rain pouring down, that driver was asking to hydroplane on the slick surface. Even as he watched, the back tires hit a pool of deeper water and the back end of the car fishtailed before straightening up again.

      Flipping on the siren and his lights, he pulled out from beside the overpass where he had been partially hidden as he watched the traffic. Blue-and-red flashes reflected in the puddles on the road. His hands gripped the wheel as he gave chase. It was fortunate that it was midmorning and the traffic was light. Otherwise, he had no doubt that an accident would have already occurred.

      The automated plate recognition system in his cruiser alerted him that the car ahead was owned by someone with a driving record. The car he was chasing down belonged to William Allister, a young man who had multiple tickets and two DUIs already on his record. Well, he was about to get another one.

      Isaac wasn’t shocked when the car suddenly veered onto the narrow shoulder, although in his mind he had prepared for the scenario that Mr. Allister would try to make a run for it. A chase would not have been smart, but sometimes drivers panicked when faced with another DUI and the loss of their driver’s license.

      He pulled up behind the vehicle, making sure his cruiser was partially on the road. That would make drivers move to the next lane, and it would give him a safe cushion to walk to the car without being too close to it. Isaac turned off the siren, but he left the lights on. He called in the situation to his station, along with the license plate number and the driver’s record. Patting his service weapon in his holster, he slowly exited his vehicle. It was always best to proceed with caution in these incidents. The last thing he wanted was for the person in the car to decide to pull a weapon on him or to attack. Given the way the guy had been driving, it would not shock Isaac if that was exactly what happened.

      The rain poured down at a slant, hitting him clear in the face. He couldn’t


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