Vow of Silence Page 16

  She seemed to digest his explanation and slowly nodded. “When this is over then…will I get the diary back?”

  “When it’s over you can file a petition to have it returned to you.” Joe would make sure that petition was denied. At least, then, he wouldn’t be the bad guy. Reaching over, he took her hand and gave it a comforting squeeze. “If it helps, I can tell you that one of her last entries was about you and Eli.”

  “It was…?”

  She turned to look at him, but he kept his eyes on the road. From his periphery, he could see her anger dissolve, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. It killed him, the heartache she was going through. His need to ease her suffering, to comfort her, was likely only going to cause her more pain in the end, but still she wanted to know her sister’s thoughts, to hold onto that connection. He couldn’t blame her and wouldn’t deny her that small gift.

  “She wrote about her struggle over whether or not to take her baptismal vows. A part of her wanted to escape this life—the church—but she loved you and Eli and didn’t think she could stand to be shunned from you. She mentioned talking to Deacon Schrock about this and had decided she would take her vows after all.”

  “But Deacon Schrock told ya Cassie and Abby hadn’t said anythin’ to him about not takin’ their vows.”

  “Yeah, I know. I’m not happy he lied to me, but I can see why he would. Conversations between a shepherd and his flock are supposed to be confidential. He might figure why bother saying anything to tarnish their reputations or memory. Sadly, he’s not the first person to lie to me in this investigation, and something tells me he won’t be the last. Everyone seems to have their secrets they don’t want to give up. These people don’t understand it only makes my job harder and takes up precious time vetting them as suspects.”

  “Surely, you don’t think Deacon Schrock is a suspect.”

  “No, I don’t.” But even as the denial fell from his lips, Joe was beginning to second guess himself, wondering if he wasn’t being a bit hasty. According to Samantha Roth’s profile, Joe probably shouldn’t be so quick to dismiss the man’s culpability. “I need to go back and talk to him again. I have to confront him about lying to me.”

  “Maybe Cassie’s boyfriend will be able to help answer some of your questions.”

  “We can only hope.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “Everyone’s starin’ at me,” Hannah whispered into her cup of coffee. She glanced past Josiah’s shoulder to the small group of college-age women at the counter. They whispered and giggled among themselves as their gazes drifted her way. And they weren’t the only ones watching. The niggling sensation was disconcerting. If Josiah noticed, he didn’t seem to mind their curious stares.

  Keegan Riley wasn’t working today, but at Josiah’s request and the flash of his badge, the manager agreed to give him the boy’s address and phone number. In the last half-hour, they’d been waiting for the manager to get a break in customers, so he could retrieve the information. Hannah had seen more than one woman sending appreciative glances Josiah’s way, followed by a surprised one directed at her. She could practically hear their inquisitive thoughts… “What’s he doing here with her?”

  Josiah was a strikingly handsome man and no doubt attracted women wherever he went. But where she was from, this simply wasn’t done. Women were a bit more discrete about their interest in a man. Blatantly staring at someone was rude, and suggestive.

  She felt out of place, like she didn’t belong in this world. But more than her discomfort, Hannah worried when they found Keegan Riley, he may be less likely to speak openly with them if he knew she was Amish. Maybe Cassie had hidden that part of her life from him. She suspected her sister often dressed like an Englisher when she went out with her friends. She’d found some of Cassie’s clothes in the bottom drawer of her dresser while putting her aprons away one day and had confronted her about it. Perhaps she understood now why her sister would want to blend in, because Hannah was wishing she’d brought those clothes with her.

  “They’re just jealous you’re so beautiful.” Josiah took a sip of his coffee and set it down.

  Hannah laughed, drawing more unwanted attention their way. Yes, everyone, the Amish laugh, too.

  “For a detective, ya sure are clueless. Half of the women in here can’t take their eyes off ya, and the other half are lookin’ at me like I’m some sideshow attraction they can’t believe is sittin’ here with ya.”

  Josiah shrugged. “Let them look.”

  “It makes me uncomfortable.” She normally wasn’t one to let her insecurities get the best of her, but she was out of her element here.

  “You know what I’d do if I was you?”

  “What?” She took a sip of coffee and kept the cup up, partially hiding behind the venti Vanilla Macchiato latte he’d ordered her.

  “I’d give them something to stare at.”

  “Josiah, what are ya doin’?” He stood and took the cup from her hand, setting it beside her. Her eyes grew wide when he reached across the small table. His hand slipped around the side of her neck, fingers curling around her nape holding her still as he leaned forward and kissed her—right there in front of God and everyone. Josiah’s mouth covered hers, his lips pressing fully and firmly. Thankfully, there was no tongue, or she probably would have melted right out of her seat.

  He pulled back just far enough to break contact and whispered, “You’re not a sideshow. And never be ashamed of who you are. If people want to stare, let them. Any man worthy of you would be proud to call you his. Now, I’ll go get that number, and we can get out of here.”

  Josiah brushed his lips against hers one last time and then headed toward the counter. No one was watching her anymore, they were all staring at the man who’d just kissed an Amish woman in public.

  …

  As far as good ideas went, that probably wasn’t the best one Joe ever had, but he’d accomplished his multi-purpose goal nonetheless. One, divert the attention off Hannah and onto him. Two, prove to her she had nothing to be self-conscious about. And three, he just plain wanted an excuse to put his mouth on hers again, and this seemed like the perfect opportunity.

  On Joe’s second attempt to speak with the manager, he’d been much more helpful. It turned out that the Keegan Riley he was looking for was indeed the college hockey player, and as luck would have it, the guy was playing in a game tonight. When he returned to the table, Hannah was sitting there quietly, sipping her coffee, and staring out the window at the traffic zipping by.

  “You ready to go?”

  She startled when he spoke, making him wonder where she’d gone in her head. “Yes. I’m ready.”

  He offered her his hand and was pleased when she accepted it with a grateful smile. He’d take it as a good sign she wasn’t too pissed about the stunt he’d just pulled with her. He didn’t let go once he helped her up, but instead, held her hand tucked securely in his as he led her toward the door.

  “Do you have a specific time you have to be back?”

  “No, why?”

  “Because it doesn’t look like we’re going to get to talk to Keegan Riley until later tonight. Seems he’s the star goalie for Penn State, and they’re playing at seven.” Joe opened the door and held it for Hannah to pass through. “What do you say?” He playfully nudged her with his arm. “Want to go to your first hockey game with me?”

  Hannah stopped beside the car and gave him an indiscernible look. “Not dressed like this. I’ve had enough of people starin’ at me.”

  Joe chuckled. “Sweetheart, I’m telling you, it doesn’t matter what you’re wearing, people are gonna stare. You’re just that beautiful.”

  “Well, if it’s all the same to you, I’d rather be lookin’ like an Englisher when they did it.”

  “Suit yourself.” Joe led her across the street to a clothing store. They were just about to enter when his cell began to ring. He fished his phone from his pocket and checked the caller ID. “I gotta take
this call. Go on in, and I’ll be there in a minute.” Hannah seemed hesitant to enter alone. And then he realized she’d probably never been in a store this size before. He kept forgetting this was all new to her. “Hey,” he caught her hand again. “Just hang on, and I’ll go in with you.” She gave him a relieved smile and nodded as he took the call. “Troyer…”

  “Oz, where the hell are you?” Bill’s cheery voice came across the line.

  “Hershey, chasing down a lead. What’s up?”

  “I sent you an updated toxicology report on Abby Schwartz. I heard you’d recovered a cloth from the Hennessey farm that had diethyl ether on it. It’s nothing that would have shown up in a routine tox-screen, but ether is metabolized into acetaldehyde and carbon dioxide. Co2 is already in our systems, but I found trace levels of acetaldehyde in her blood.”

  “That’s great. Now we can prove that’s how he’s taking them. Forensics is looking for DNA on the cloth. They’re also trying to isolate an element that would identify a specific starter fluid. Once we get that, we can try tracking down availability. Do you still have the blood samples from the other three girls?”

  “I do.”

  “Is it too late to test them for acetaldehyde?”

  “I’ll see what I can do. What’s your lead in Hershey?”

  “I’m trying to track down Cassie Beiler’s boyfriend.”

  “Huh…I didn’t know she had one. It would probably be a good idea to get a DNA sample to help us rule out the semen I found on her. You got a name and address for this guy? I can put in a request for a court order from the district court judge.”

  “That would be a big help. Thanks. The guy’s name is Keegan Riley. He’s a senior at Penn State. You should be able to pull up his demographics off that. While you’re writing up the request, put in one for Saul Heinz and include fingerprints, will ya? It doesn’t sound like he’s been too voluntary on that request. He had contact with both the last two victims the days they disappeared, and he was the last person to see Cassie Beiler alive.”

  “Saul Heinz…? He’s Amish. You think one of them is responsible for this?”

  “I gotta prove that he’s not. I go where the rabbit trail leads. My personal feelings on the subject are irrelevant.”

  “All right. I’ll submit the request for you.”

  “Thanks. If the judge gives you any pushback, have him call me or Samantha Roth. She’s the analyst the feds have sent to work this case. You’ll find her in my office.”

  “You got it. Come grab me tomorrow, and we’ll get lunch.”

  “Sounds good.” Joe disconnected the call and pocketed his cell. Hannah was standing a few feet away, looking through the large picture window. Her arms were wrapped around her middle, making her look smaller than she already was. “You all right?” He couldn’t resist coming up behind her and circling his arms around her. Hugging her against his chest, he rested his chin against the top on her head and studied their reflection in the glass.

  “It’s hard to hear ya talk about Cassie,” she confessed. “There’s still times it hits me harder than others that she’s gone. I’m so grateful to ya for allowin’ me to be a part of this, and mostly it helps me by helpin’ ya. But, it’s still difficult listenin’ to some of the…details. I know ya don’t want to hear this, but I think ye’re wrong about Saul Heinz. He’s a good man. I feel bad he’s gettin’ caught up in all of this.”

  Joe exhaled a deep sigh. “He’s a person of interest—that’s all. But you have to trust me to do my job, Hannah, even if you don’t agree with where the evidence is leading, or perhaps the outcome.”

  …

  “Well? Josiah, say somethin’. Is it the hair? I still look Amish, don’t I?”

  Hannah had never put on pants before, so she had no idea what size she was. She’d taken several pairs into the dressing room—a few jeans and a couple of dress pants—and tried on three different styles before finding a pair of size-fours that fit her properly. She preferred the conservative look of the black dress pants over the jeans, and the denim material was a bit rough and too English for her liking. She’d chosen a light pink undershirt with a cream long-sleeved cardigan for her top. The neckline was lower than she was used to, and the sweater more form-fitting, but the material was soft, and she loved the feeling of it against her skin.

  She opted to keep her boots. The pants covered all but the toes, and she’d noticed a few other girls wearing a similar lace-up style. Before exiting the dressing room, she’d unbound her hair and plaited it into a long braid over her shoulder. It was the first time she could remember being in public without her head covered.

  Josiah stood from the chair posted outside her dressing room. His eyes slowly raked over her—once, then twice, a third time—but he’d yet to say anything. He looked at her like she was a stranger. With each passing second, she grew more self-conscious. This was probably a mistake. But she was worried about Keegan’s reaction to her if she approached him in her Amish clothes. They only had one shot at getting this right. If he refused to talk to them…

  “I’ll go back inside and change.”

  “No, wait! Hannah…”

  His voice was different—deeper, rougher. The sound of it made goose bumps prickle her flesh. She stopped inside the dressing room and slowly looked over her shoulder to find Josiah scrubbing a hand over his clean-shaven jaw, his gaze fixed on her bottom as he muttered, “Holy hell, ” under his breath, the blue-hues in his eyes sharpening with lust.

  It made her skin too warm, her clothes too tight and confining. Her heart hammered inside her chest, and she feared she would melt inside. That embarrassing moisture returned between her legs, and she pressed her thighs together, fighting the wanton desire he stirred in her.

  She might have reprimanded him for his profanity, but those words hadn’t been for her ears. He took a step toward her and then stopped. “Don’t change.”

  It was more of a command than a request. She turned to face him, and his stare slowly dragged up, stalling on her breasts. Her nipples hardened beneath his heated gaze. The bursts of blue among the verdant streaks and amber flecks of his eyes reminded her of sapphires. She nervously trapped her bottom lip between her teeth.

  “Josiah, ye’re makin’ me self-conscious…”

  “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to.” His eyes finally met and held hers. “You’re just… Wow. You’re so damn beautiful. It’s like you’re another person, and yet, you’re still my Hannah.”

  His Hannah…? Josiah hadn’t called her that in eight years, and she’d never thought to hear the claim again. “Am I?” she asked, taking a step back as he took one forward, entering the dressing room and pulling the door closed behind him. “Still your Hannah?”

  He reached up, hands framing her face as he studied her. His thumbs traced the arch of her brows then down the gentle slope of her nose. Her lids fluttered closed as his hands followed the rise of her cheekbones, just like he used to do when they were young. The touch felt familiar, intimate… Lord, she’d missed this. She’d missed him. Hannah’s lips parted in a surprised gasp when his thumb traced the curve of her top lip.

  This part of his exploration was new, but she kept her eyes closed, heart hammering inside her chest as she reveled in the gentleness of his touch. When his thumb brushed over her bottom lip, lingering back and forth, she was tempted to touch it with her tongue, but her nerves failed her.

  “You’ve never stopped being my Hannah,” he whispered huskily. “Even when you belonged to another, my heart still claimed you as mine, and I suspect it always will.”

  She’d cautioned him earlier about saying these things to her. But truly, her heart was already lost to him. There was nothing she could do to save herself now. How many tears had she shed, praying for this moment, yearning to hear those words again? And then his lips were on hers. When he kissed her, she yielded her mouth to his, lips parting to accept the gentle sweep of his tongue. She knew what to expect this time and greedily met the dema
nd of his kiss. “I am yers, Josiah,” she whispered between kisses. “My heart has always belonged to ya.”

  As he deepened their kiss, his hands moved to her back and slowly slipped down to her bottom, fingers curling into her rounded flesh. He squeezed possessively, and she gasped at the biting grip as he pulled her closer and his hips rocked against her. As his erection dug into the flat of her stomach, more heat pooled between her legs, making her sensitive flesh slick with desire.

  A knock on the dressing room door startled her and Hannah let out a surprised yelp, tearing herself from Josiah’s embrace.

  “Is there anything else I can get you?” the attendant asked. “Did you find something to fit?”

  “Ja,” she rushed to answer, in her haste defaulting to her first language. “Yes,” she added, quickly amending her error. “I found somethin’ that will work.”

  “Great. Just let me know if I can help you with anything else.”

  At the sound of departing footsteps, Josiah’s throaty laughter rose. “Ja?” he teased. “Ich habe das Englisch von dir gesus kysst?” Have I kissed the English out of you? After all these years, Josiah’s Pennsylvania Dutch was still quite good, but there was a slight northern accent to his lilt that had never been there before.

  “Vielleicht haben Sie. Liebe den neuen akzent.” Maybe you have. Love the new accent.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  “Josiah, ye’re starin’ again…” Hannah called over the din of the crowd as she tried to keep her eyes on the puck, but it moved over the ice so fast she kept losing track of it. From her periphery, she could see him watching her watch the game. This was her first experience going to any kind of a semi-professional sport, and though she wished it were under better circumstances, she found herself pulled into the game. The seats were packed, the fans cheering. The air was alive with energy.