Vow of Silence Page 15

“I knew you were the right recruit for this case, Troyer. You seal the deal with the Barber, and you just may have a future hunting serial killers. I could use a good detective on my team.”

  Joe wasn’t sure what to say. A week ago, he would have been nutting at the idea of a career with the feds, tracking down serials. This was his dream job…traveling all over the country, chasing killers. So then why wasn’t he jumping at the offer? The answer came to him quickly enough in the form of a sharp ache in his chest when he imagined leaving Hannah and Eli. Could he give up his career, the only thing besides her that he’d ever loved, and return to this simple life?

  As much as he wanted a future with Hannah, he wasn’t sure if he could do it at the expense of his career. It was that hesitancy that sent him rushing out her door last night. He had no business messing around with her if he wasn’t willing to make a commitment. Being a homicide detective brought value and purpose to his life in a way nothing else could. When he took his last breath, he wanted to do so knowing he was leaving this world a better place than he’d found it. “Let me catch this killer first and then we’ll talk.”

  Riker chuckled. “Sounds like a plan. I’ll call you in a few days and check in.”

  Joe disconnected the call and booted up his computer. He caught movement from the corner of his eye hovering in the doorway and glanced up to find Deputy Mills standing there. “Sheriff said you wanted to see me.”

  “I do. Come in and have a seat.” He gestured to the stationary chair that was across from Joe’s desk but now occupied space against the far wall. Mills stepped inside and arched a brow at the slender table taking up the middle of the office.

  “Redecorating?” He ambled around the table and crossed the room, dropping into the chair.

  “Something like that,” Joe grumbled.

  Mills stretched into a lazy sprawl and crossed his arms over his thick chest.

  Joe stood and closed the door. Leaning against it, he mirrored the deputy’s defiant pose. It was no secret they’d gotten off to a rough start, and Joe still had no fucking clue who this guy was, but it was time to bury the hatchet and get some answers, because he didn’t have the time or the mental energy to be wasting on people who weren’t suspects in this case. “We’re going to have an off the record conversation, you and me. And you’re going to convince me you don’t belong on my suspect list.”

  The guy looked surprised and sat a little straighter, concern etching his brows. At least now he had the officer’s attention. “I’m telling you up front that I have no interest in reporting any misconduct,” Joe said. “I’m not here to be your babysitter. I’m here to catch a killer and that’s all I care about. I don’t even give a fuck how I used to know you. What I do care about was how a police officer, on duty, found the body of a young woman seven miles from his patrol route.”

  The deputy scrubbed the back of his neck and studied the floor. “I told you, I went down to the river to go fly fishing.”

  “While you were on duty?”

  He hesitated a moment and then nodded.

  “Do you often sneak away to play when you’re supposed to be working?”

  He shrugged. “Once in a while.”

  “Where was your fishing gear?”

  “In the trunk of my squad car. That’s where I keep it.”

  “Why did you lie to me about going to Cassie Beiler’s home? What were you looking for?”

  He started to squirm a little in his seat and sat a little taller. The guy was nervous, but it didn’t fit. Someone who’d abducted, raped, and strangled four young women should hold up to a few probing questions better than this.

  “My badge.” His gaze cut to the ground and he scrubbed his hand over the back of his neck. “I lost my badge a few months ago. You’re a cop. You know what a big deal that is.”

  Yeah, Joe knew. It was a BFD.

  “I was put on probation for it. What happened was, I went to Cassie Beiler’s home with SA Riker and a few other officers. While the agent spoke with her sister, Hannah, we searched Cassie’s room.”

  “Did you find anything of interest that would aid in this investigation?”

  “No. But I noticed later that afternoon my badge was missing. I figured it must have fallen off when I was on my hands and knees searching the closet. I went back to look for it but didn’t want to tell Mrs. Adams that I’d lost my badge. It was embarrassing. So, I made up an excuse about needing to recheck her room.”

  “Did you find your badge?”

  “Yes, it was in the closet.”

  Joe nodded. Deputy Mills explanation made sense. Right or wrong, Joe could see why the guy might lie to save face.

  “You gonna talk to the Sheriff?”

  His gaze found Joe’s, and he held the guy’s stare a moment. Were he in Minnesota, he damn well would have gone to the captain. The officer had lied to him about an ongoing investigation, and he was playing hooky on the taxpayers’ dime. It was this kind of horseshit police work that got good cops killed. But Deputy Mills dereliction of duty was not Joe’s problem. “I already told you, that’s not why I’m here.”

  The deputy visibly relaxed, his shoulders easing, and he seemed to regard Joe with a little less animosity. Not that Joe cared either way. He’d said it before and he’d say it again, he wasn’t here to make friends.

  “We done here, then?” Mills asked.

  “Yeah, we’re done here…” Joe pulled the door open and stepped to the side.

  The cop was out of the chair and beating feet through the open space so fast he almost barreled into the FBI agent pushing an office chair down the hall. He mumbled an apology, and she graciously moved out of his way. She gave Joe an odd look as she wheeled her chair past him. “Should I be afraid?” she teased.

  “Of what?” He closed the door behind her and settled in behind his desk.

  “Of you. I’m gone five minutes and you’ve got a burly cop barreling out of your office with his tail between his legs.”

  Joe chuckled. “Just don’t lie to me, and we’ll get along just fine.”

  “Sounds fair enough.” Sam opened her briefcase and began setting up her temporary workspace. “Did you get the profile I sent you this morning? I put it together based on the victim analysis.”

  “I’ll check my email.”

  Joe spent the next several minutes combing through the report. As he read the pages, unease settled over him like a lead weight in his gut. He hoped to God she was wrong. Glancing up, he studied the woman sitting across from him, already hard at work. She was young—too young to be doing this job with any sort of competence.

  “Agent Roth…?”

  She glanced at him over her computer and smiled warmly. “You can call me Sam.”

  “How confident are you on the accuracy of this analysis?”

  Her smile melted into a pensive frown. “Is there something wrong with it?”

  “Concerned is more like it. If I went by this analysis, I’d be investigating the goddamn deacon—well known, trusted, blends in to his surroundings. Likely holding a position of authority. Middle-aged. Average to above average intelligence…”

  Her expression turned inscrutable as she studied him across their desks. “Well, maybe you should. In my experience, it’s most often the least-likely suspects.”

  “Just how much experience are we talking here?”

  She laughed again, that high-pitched melodic, but when she spoke there was an edge in her tone. “Don’t let the face and voice fool you, Detective. I’ve got a PhD in Psychology with an emphasis in Criminology from Princeton. I’ve been profiling killers since the FBI recruited me five years ago. Is that enough experience for you, or would you like me to email you a more extensive resume? My profile is good. I create them based on the current information I’m given and on past cases. It’s an art, Detective Troyer, not a science. But I’m pretty much fucking Picasso, so unless there’s some details you’ve neglected to share with me that would alter this analysis, I stand by my
profile.”

  Ouch…it’d been a long time since he’d been spanked, and never by someone who sounded like they belonged in the Munchkin Gang. “All right, then. Good to know.”

  “Glad we could clear the air, Detective.”

  “Joe.”

  She nodded, and her smile was back. All was forgiven. “Joe…”

  “How’s the VICAP search going?”

  “No hits yet, but I’m expanding my net. If there have been any similar homicides in the past fifteen years, I’ll find them.”

  “Great. What are the chances you can get me a list of new residents who’ve moved to the area within the last twelve months?”

  “What kind of radius are we talking?”

  “Sixty miles of Churchtown.”

  “Sounds like a reasonable ask, shouldn’t be too difficult. The post offices will have all that information. I’ll get started on it right away.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Hannah checked her reflection in the mirror one last time before finally forcing herself to step away from it. She’d never given much thought to her appearance before, but today she’d taken a good look, trying to see herself from Josiah’s perspective. She was…plain. From her simple dark frock to her sensible black boots and her concealing prayer kapp, there was nothing special about her—nothing that would catch the eye of a man who’d lived among the Englishers.

  She scolded herself for caring. He hadn’t returned for her, but Hannah wasn’t imagining the spark that still sizzled between them. Josiah made her feel things, want things, that a good Amish woman had no business thinking about. Maybe she wasn’t as good as she let on…

  For not the first time, she considered her life and felt stifled—a woman caught between her traditions and her desires, and somewhere along the way she’d lost herself. If she was being honest, she’d been struggling with this for a long time. It just took seeing Josiah again for her to finally admit it. Her life in Lancaster was a reminder of everything she’d lost, and Josiah represented a new beginning.

  Despite the horrible circumstances that had brought him back, was this a second chance for them? Or was she foolishly putting her heart on the line only to get it broken again? He’d changed. They both had. But not necessarily for the worse, as Josiah seemed to believe. She was drawn to the complexity of his darkness and yearned to soothe the turmoil in his soul. She understood him far better than he gave her credit for.

  Maybe if she hadn’t lost her sister to violence, she wouldn’t comprehend his desire to make this world a safer place. But getting touched by unspeakable tragedy changed a person. She was no longer the woman Josiah thought he knew.

  Pushing aside the disappointment in her reflection, Hannah headed downstairs. Josiah would be here any moment. She’d dropped Eli and Dexter off at her parents’ home early this morning and asked her mother to keep them overnight. She didn’t know how long they would be in Hershey and had no idea how difficult it would be to find Cassie’s boyfriend.

  She’d returned to the farm mid-morning and kept herself busy with chores, but the mundane tasks left her mind idle, and her thoughts were determined to replay Josiah’s kiss over and over. Every time, she became flushed and her heart started beating a little bit faster as that fluttery sensation returned to her stomach.

  At the sound of a car pulling up, Hannah went to the door, resisting the impulse to check her reflection one last time. Josiah was coming up the porch steps just as she pulled the door shut behind her. Their gazes briefly locked, hesitation and uncertainty reflected in his eyes. Did he think she regretted their kiss? The last thing she wanted was awkwardness between them.

  “Hannah…”

  Ignoring his reserved tone, she forced a carefree smile and endeavored to act normal, greeting him as if he hadn’t kissed her breathless last night. “Good afternoon, Josiah. All set to go?”

  It took a moment for him to respond as she breezed past him on the steps and headed for the car. “Where’s Eli and Dexter?”

  “At Ma and Da’s…”

  He nodded, but she didn’t miss the subtle frown at the mention of her parents.

  “Is that all right?” Maybe he would have preferred the dog come with them.

  “They don’t mind Dexter staying there?”

  She opened the passenger door and climbed inside. After Josiah entered the car she confessed, “I didn’t tell them he was yours.”

  The little muscle in his jaw ticked. Her parents were a touchy subject with him, but she didn’t understand why. Every time she mentioned them, she sensed a spike in his brooding anger. Hannah considered asking him about it but didn’t think he’d tell her. Speaking ill of one’s family was simply not done. Josiah might no longer be Old Order Amish, but those rules and traditions were still rooted in him.

  “Eli was askin’ about ya this mornin’.”

  Josiah started the car and swung his arm behind her headrest to look over his shoulder as he backed down the driveway. In the close quarters, his clean, masculine scent teased her nose, and she couldn’t resist drawing a deep breath.

  “Oh yeah? What’d he say?”

  “It meant a lot to him that Dexter stayed the night. He’s been having nightmares…”

  “That’s what he said.”

  “He told you that?” Hannah turned toward him and their eyes locked. In that split second of contact, something elemental passed between them and she thought he might kiss her again. Ignoring the surge of energy in the air, she pressed, “What did he say? He won’t talk to me about them. I only know they’re happenin’ cause I hear him cryin’ at night and have to go to his room and wake him.”

  Josiah pressed the brake, and the car came to a stop, idling as he studied her. She wished she knew his thoughts, but his expression was often indiscernible. “He just said he was having them. Nothing else.”

  Unable to hold the intensity of his stare, she forced her gaze to her lap. It was safer than looking at the man who’d made her feel more in the last few days than she had in years. “He trusts you…” she whispered. “He doesn’t normally warm up to new people quickly.”

  Joe shifted the car into gear, but his foot remained on the brake. She could sense his gaze on her when he said, “Neither do I. But that boy’s as easy to love as his mom…”

  Her expression must have registered surprise, because Josiah appeared caught off guard, himself—like maybe he hadn’t meant to say that out loud. “I’m sorry, Hannah. I—”

  “Josiah…” she interrupted before he could say anything else to make this more painful. “Ya can’t say these things to me and then walk out of my life again. It’s not only my heart ya’d be breaking this time. That little boy can’t handle any more loss.”

  “I know…” He nodded, understanding and regret reflecting in his eyes.

  “So, unless ye’re willin’ to make a commitment to us… This can’t happen.”

  “I know…”

  She wished he’d stop agreeing with her! She wanted him to tell her that he wasn’t going to leave. He didn’t need to have all the answers, just to promise that one way or another, they were going to be together.

  “That’s it?” she snapped with frustration. “That’s all ye’re gonna say? ‘I know…?’”

  “What do you want me to say, Hannah? That I’m still in love with you? You know that I am. That I want to be with you? You and I both know it’s not that easy.” Before she could point out that “not easy” didn’t mean impossible, he added, “If we don’t get going, we’re going to be late.”

  Josiah lifted his foot from the brake and the car lurched forward. Apparently, this conversation was over.

  …

  Hannah hadn’t spoken more than two words in the grueling hour-long car ride to Hershey. Not that Joe blamed her. He was such an asshole… He hadn’t meant to tell her he loved her—at least not like that—but it’d just slipped out. They’d never had the kind of relationship where they guarded their words, though perhaps they should start
.

  He suspected he knew what she wanted him to say. She wanted Joe to tell her he wasn’t going to leave, but that wasn’t a commitment he could give her right now—maybe not ever. His career was too important to him, and it was a big ask to expect Hannah to uproot her and Eli’s life and walk away from everyone and everything they’d ever known for him. Joe understood what a culture shock it was to assimilate into a world where you didn’t belong. And Hannah loved being Amish… Him? Not so much. At any rate, this wasn’t the time or the place to be having this conversation.

  “How do ya plan to find Cassie’s boyfriend in such a large city?” Her tone was soft and reserved. She didn’t want to speak to him, but rather seemed to need a sense of what she was walking into. Hershey wasn’t that big of a city by his standards, but to Hannah this was probably a shock for her. To Joe’s knowledge, she’d never ventured more than thirty miles from her home—a testament to her courage and determination to find her sister’s killer.

  “Cassie mentioned Keegan’s name in her diary, and that he worked at Starbucks in Hershey. I figure that’s a good place to start. There are two Keegan Rileys who live there. Neither one should be too difficult to track down if the coffee shop doesn’t pan out.”

  “What else did she say in the diary?”

  He shrugged. A lot of stuff Joe had no intention of telling her.

  “I think I would like to read it when ye’re finished.”

  A shadow passed over her face that quickly morphed into anger when he said, “I’m sorry, but I can’t let you do that, Hannah.”

  “Those are my sister’s thoughts, her last words, and ye’re tellin’ me I can’t read them?”

  That’s exactly what he was telling her. If he let Hannah read that diary, it would devastate her. Not even Joe had known the ugliness that lay between those pages, and there wasn’t much he wouldn’t do or say to protect her from discovering the truth.

  “The diary is part of evidence in an ongoing investigation. There’s a chain of custody involved, and I can’t break that. I’m sorry.” The lie tasted foul on his tongue. Unfortunately, nothing he’d discovered in that diary could be used in a court of law. Diaries were considered hearsay, and with its author being deceased, it was impossible to corroborate and therefore inadmissible. But he’d be damned if he let her get her hands on that book.