“Go! Go! Go!” Zach checked the landing outside Bridget’s second-story apartment and hustled the two women out the door.
Liddie turned to grab something, and Bridget pulled at her arm. “We’ve got to go!”
He scanned the area outside the landing again, his eyes stinging from the black smoke. Whoever had set the apartment on fire couldn’t be far. He pounded on each door as he passed and yelled, “Fire!” He didn’t slow to see if anyone came out. He couldn’t leave Bridget exposed.
Bridget and her sister got ahead of him when they reached the parking lot. He aimed the key fob at his truck and hollered, “Get in! Get in!”
Bridget spun around, and Zach followed her gaze above the roofline. Black smoke pumped out from her apartment on the far side of the building. She blinked, seemingly snapping out of it, and ordered Liddie to get into the truck. As naturally protective of Bridget as he was—it was his job, after all—she was equally protective of her sister, perhaps more so.
Bridget climbed into the passenger side after helping Liddie get into the back seat. Once Zach was behind the wheel, he called 9-1-1 on his smartphone, which was connected by Bluetooth to his vehicle. “There’s a fire at...” He tipped his chin toward Bridget and asked, “Address?” On cue, Bridget hollered her address, holding firmly to the grip bar as he pulled out of the parking lot, made a sharp left and raced down the road, all while constantly checking his rearview mirror.
“I have the occupants of the apartment with me. I’m taking them to safety.” Zach gave Dispatch his name and badge number to confirm he was a DEA agent. “Make sure the building is empty. I had to get my witness to safety.”
Once Dispatch assured him that Fire Rescue was on the way, he ended the call. “Now do you have any doubts you’re the target?” He hated his sharp tone, but he was not going to let this poor, naive woman be a sitting duck because she didn’t want to believe her decision to speak up had put her in harm’s way. He checked his rearview mirror again. The road was quiet. Liddie sat wide-eyed and silent. He made a quick right, then another left, keeping his foot pressed on the pedal.
Zach cut a sharp gaze over to his passenger. All the color had drained out of her face. A dark smudge marred one cheek. He didn’t want to think about what would have happened if she had been in her bedroom when whatever it was that set the room on fire came crashing through the window. He should have taken her directly to his office, made a full report. He should not have let her go back to her apartment.
“Are you okay?” Zach eased off the gas. They were safe. For now.
“What am I going to do?” High-pitched alarm made her voice squeak.
Her sister leaned forward in the back seat. “What in the world is going on? I’m going to guess Zach here isn’t a friend from work.” Despite the seriousness of the situation, a hint of excitement laced her tone.
Bridget shook her head tightly and seemed to be at a loss for words.
“I’m a law enforcement agent. Your sister reported—”
“Stop.” Bridget finally spoke up. “Liddie doesn’t need to know everything.”
“Um, Liddie’s right here.”
Bridget shifted in her seat to look at her sister. “You can’t tell Mem and Dat.” Zach had a hard time placing her accent.
“I think they’ll wonder why I’ve returned home with none of my things.” In the rearview mirror, he watched her pluck at her T-shirt. “I don’t have my plain clothes.”
Plain clothes?
“We can stop to pick some up before you go home.” Bridget lifted her chin in determination. “You have to go home in the morning.”
“Where’s home?” Zach asked.
Bridget lifted her hand in a silencing gesture. Liddie ignored her. “Hickory Lane.”
“Where’s that?”
Bridget sagged into her seat and tugged on her seat belt. “Hickory Lane is about an hour from here. It has a large Amish community.”
“Amish?” Zach nearly sputtered out the word before he had a chance to consider his audience. He cleared his throat. “Did you grow up Amish?”
Bridget ignored his question. “Liddie is going home first thing in the morning. It will draw more attention if we were to drop her off tonight.”
“I can’t go home without making sure you’re okay. And you’re definitely not okay. Someone set your apartment on fire,” Liddie said. “I may not be worldly, but I’m not stupid.”
“I never said you were stupid.” Bridget’s tone softened. “I can’t deal with all of this. Please.”
“Tell me what’s going on,” Liddie pleaded. “What did you report?”
“Take us to the hotel.” Bridget tilted her chin, as if that settled everything.
“Fine, we’ll go to a hotel, but I’m not going home until you tell me what’s going on.” In the rearview mirror, Zach watched Liddie cross her arms tightly over her chest.
“I’ll figure it out. My classes start the week after next.” Bridget shrugged. “Maybe I can get temporary housing through the university.”
Zach was done holding this tongue. “I need to make sure you’re someplace safe until we figure out who’s targeting you.”
“Isn’t that obvious?” Bridget shook her head. “Someone knows I was meeting with you.” She fidgeted with the seat belt. “Shouldn’t someone go find Dr. Ryan?”
“The doctor you work with?” Liddie asked, obviously confused.
“All that will have to be investigated,” Zach said. “Until then, you need to be tucked away someplace safe.”
“Bridget, you have to come home. Please,” Liddie begged. “You’ll be safe there.”
“I’m not going home.” Bridget shot her sister an unmistakable “stop talking” glare.
“Dat and Mem will be happy to see you. They will, I promise.” Liddie was nothing if not persistent.
“The only way they’ll be happy is if I return for good.” Bridget shook her head. “That’s not happening. I told you I have school next week. It’s too far to commute.”
Zach felt like he was intruding on a conversation he shouldn’t have been privy to.
“Humor me,” Zach said. “Do your friends in Buffalo know where home is?” Ashley had mentioned something about Bridget growing up on a farm somewhere.
Bridget’s face grew pink. “No one knows where I grew up, and I’d like to keep it that way.”
“Is there a reason why you couldn’t go there for the week, at least?” Zach suggested.
“Okay, here’s the deal. I grew up Amish. My sister here is on Rumspringa. She’s going home tomorrow. Alone. I never told anyone about my background because it lends itself to questions.” She must have read something on his face, because she pointed at him. “Like that.” She shook her head; frustration slanted the corners of her mouth. “It was a huge sacrifice to leave my family, and returning to Hickory Lane to stay with them is not an option. And if they learn that some evil Englischers are trying to...” she seemed to change course midsentence “...hurt me, they’ll never let the rest of my siblings out of their sight forever.” She dipped her head and scratched her forehead. “There’s no winning here.”
Before Zach had a chance to question her more, his cell phone chimed. “It’s my contact in the Buffalo Police Department. I need to take this.” He pressed Accept on the controls on the steering wheel. “Hey, Freddy, before you give me any updates on Ashley, I need to let you know you’re on speakerphone. I have a friend of hers in my vehicle.”
“Sorry, no updates. Still canvassing the neighborhood,” Freddy said, his tone direct. “We put out an alert for her car. Wanted to keep you in the loop.” The officer cleared his throat. “We’ll keep looking.”
“You should know that someone set Ashley Meadows’s coworker’s apartment on Spring Street on fire,” Zach said.
“Heard the call go out on that one. Looks like someone tossed a Molotov cocktail through the window. Everyone okay there?” Freddy asked.
“Yeah, I’m taking the occupants to a hotel.” Zach tapped on his steering wheel. “Let me know if you hear anything else?”
“Of course. Seems you’re right in the middle of some serious stuff.”
“Afraid so.” Zach slowed at the red light and took notice of his surroundings. Nothing suspicious. “My office will be involved in the investigation, for sure, but we could use the BPD’s eyes and ears.” He hoped his supervisor agreed with him, since he was technically on leave after the Kevin Pearson incident. An incident he’d never be able to forget. Or forgive himself for.
“Sure thing,” Freddy said. “Be careful.”
Zach ended the call and his phone immediately rang. It was his supervisor, Assistant Special Agent in Charge Colleen McCarthy. She wasn’t going to be happy.
“Agent McCarthy,” Zach said into the phone by way of greeting.
“I hear you’re not exactly taking it easy.” The ASAC had sent him on leave.
“Just have a few things to take care of for a friend.” Zach smiled tightly at Bridget as she fidgeted with her hands in her lap.
Colleen’s deep sigh filled the interior of the vehicle over the Bluetooth speakers. “How important is this?”
“Life and death.”
Silence stretched across the line before his boss finally said, “Agent Bryant, you’re technically on leave and what you do on leave is your business. But if this blows back on the department, you’ll live to regret it.”
“Thanks.” He understood her need to cover her backside.
“You won’t be thanking me if you don’t get cleared to come back to work.”
“That won’t happen,” Zach said curtly. He was about to state all the reasons he didn’t need this leave in the first place, but he had already lost that argument.
“Don’t let it. Take care of your personal business and lay low. Got it?”
“Got it,” he said as he turned on his directional for the hotel.
Zach ended the call just as they pulled up under the porte cochère of the hotel. “Looks like I’m cleared to help you.”
“Didn’t exactly sound like that to me,” Bridget said in an even tone, turning to study the two-story, nondescript hotel.
“You don’t know my boss like I do.” He smiled. “Let’s get you both inside. Then I’m going to go see what the good doctor has to say.”
The next morning Bridget woke from a fitful sleep. Her nerves were humming in time with the loud AC unit on the wall of the dank hotel room. Her life had been turned upside down yesterday. Reporting her concerns to law enforcement had been worse than she could have possibly imagined. After much discussion with Zach last night, Bridget had decided she had no choice but to go back to Hickory Lane.
Bridget had no home and limited funds, which meant limited options. She prayed they’d be able to find whoever set her apartment on fire. Then, maybe she could find housing on campus and start her classes in a little over a week, as planned. The ache in her stomach told her it wouldn’t be that easy.
Zach had warned her. Depending on how deep Dr. Ryan had gotten involved with his alleged prescription fraud, the drug-dealing networks were complex and had long tentacles. How was she supposed to know what she was getting into? Ugh...
She closed her eyes briefly and sent up another prayer for Ashley. When she was done, she rolled over and plumped up her pillow and settled her head back down, not quite ready to start the day. Would she ever be ready? Across the narrow space separating the double beds, Bridget found her sister watching her.
“Guder mariye.” Good morning. Liddie had her hands tucked under the pillow, and her eyes shone bright in the soft light spilling in around the heavy curtains that hadn’t been pulled all the way shut. For her little sister, yesterday’s tragedy meant her big sister was coming home. It was a bright side to an otherwise awful day. For Bridget, it was more awfulness. It wasn’t that she didn’t love her family. She loved them dearly, but following her dreams meant severing ties completely with her loved ones. Going back would only tear open those wounds. Wounds she had worked hard to heal over the course of five years.
Would she have it in her to leave a second time?
“I’m not so sure it’s a good morning,” Bridget muttered.
The mascara Liddie had been experimenting with yesterday was smeared under her eyes. She pushed up on one elbow, and her long, loose hair fanned out over the pillow. “Maybe this is a sign.” Bridget had told Liddie about the discrepancies in the prescriptions. That perhaps Dr. Ryan had been part of a pill mill. She had come across that term during her internet search. About how she finally summoned the nerve to report the well-loved doctor after she learned about a patient’s son who had overdosed on this very same class of drugs.
Bridget grunted and sat up. “A sign?” The AC unit clicked off, and the room grew still. “A sign that I’m supposed to return to Hickory Lane for good?” The comforter slipped down, exposing Bridget’s bare arm, and she shuddered. “Do you think this is God punishing me for leaving?” All the thoughts swirling around her brain came spilling out, directed angrily at her sister, her poor, sweet sister who had no idea how hard Bridget had worked to get this far. On her own.
Liddie smiled sadly. “We’ve missed you. That’s all. I’ve been praying that Ashley is found safe. And I’m worried about you. Don’t be mad at me.”
Bridget’s shoulders sagged. “I never meant for any of this to happen.” She swung her legs around and climbed out of bed. “Dat isn’t going to want me in the house unless I submit to God and the Amish ways in front of the community. You know that.”
“Maybe once your friend explains the situation, he’ll understand,” Liddie said, sitting up and raking her fingers through her tangled hair.
“The DEA agent is not my friend. I met him yesterday.” Bridget picked up an elastic from the bedside table and pulled her hair back into a high ponytail.
Liddie’s lips flattened. “Really? Yesterday? I got a different vibe. He was all protective of you.” She waggled her eyebrows. “I think he likes you.”
“Oh, silly girl. That’s his job.” Bridget secretly took pleasure in her sister’s observation. “He has no interest in me other than keeping me alive.” A worldly man like him would never look twice at a simple girl like her.
“We’ll see,” Liddie said, laughing.
“Stop. Ashley knew Zach from her childhood. Since he works for the Drug Enforcement Administration, she suggested we meet with him.” She waved her hand in dismissal.
“And still no word from Ashley?” Liddie asked, growing somber.
Bridget grabbed her cell phone from the desk. “No messages.” With her free hand, she flung open the room-darkening shades in an effort to dispel the gathering sense of doom surrounding the whereabouts of her friend.
“Zach will find her,” Liddie said, offering her encouragement.
Bridget sat down on the edge of the bed. “When we get home, please let me tell Mem and Dat.” This was her way of grasping onto the last bit of control.
“What should I say?” Liddie asked. “I can’t stand there like a dummy.”
“I’m not asking you to do that. Maybe leave out the bit about my apartment?” Bridget’s posture sagged. She turned, rested her chin on her shoulder and locked eyes with her sister. “That won’t work, will it?”
“Might be hard to explain why I don’t have any of my things.”
“The truth is best,” Bridget said, resigned.
Liddie flung the covers off her legs and crawled over to kneel on the bed next to Bridget. “Once you’re home, it’ll be like old times.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.” Bridget patted her sister’s hand.
“Elijah and Caleb will be so happy to see you. We’ve all missed you.”
Dread and longing twisted in Bridget’s stomach. “They must have grown so much.” Elijah was only eleven and Caleb seven when she left. She had resisted asking Liddie too many questions about her brothers prior to now, knowing that it would make her more homesick. However, today, she’d get to see them. “Elijah must be running wild himself nowadays. He’s sixteen.”
“He’s a good kid.” Liddie vibrated with excitement, making the mattress bounce. “They’ll be so happy to see you.”
“What happens when I leave again?”
“Maybe you’ll change your mind.” Liddie sounded so hopeful that it made Bridget more bummed.
“You have to get that idea out of your head. I have a good life here. I am going to graduate with my nursing degree next spring.”
Liddie squeezed Bridget’s hand. “You’re coming back with me to Hickory Lane today. That’s what counts.”
Bridget jerked her head back, not quite sure what to say. She couldn’t blame her sister for not feeling the same sense of apprehension. She didn’t know Ashley. Her whole life hadn’t been turned upside down. Before she had a chance to formulate a response, Liddie gave her sister a quick peck on the cheek, then bolted off the mattress toward the bathroom.
“Beat ya,” Liddie said before closing the door. The shower curtain hooks scraped across the metal pole and the faucet knobs screeched a fraction of a second before the old water pipes hummed to life.
Bridget released a strangled laugh. Leave it to Liddie. Bridget flopped back on her bed and tried to quiet her mind. She was going home. To Hickory Lane.