Where had he seen that face before?
Luke Beiler frowned at the face on the television news report behind the front counter. He knew that man. The scowling face with the angry eyes sent chills of foreboding down his spine. Whoever he was, he was dangerous.
Luke focused on the captioned words below the picture. Steve Curtis, aged forty-eight, in prison for rape, attempted murder and assault with a deadly weapon, had escaped from prison.
“Police warn that Steve Curtis is dangerous and very likely armed,” the news anchor said into the camera. The camera shifted to a reporter standing outside the prison. “Janelle?”
“Marie, the prison isn’t commenting yet as to how he managed to escape. One theory spreading through the area is that Steve Curtis didn’t escape on his own. The police are asking citizens to call the number on the screen if they have any information on his whereabouts or about anyone connected with his escape. Back to you, Marie.”
Marie faced the camera again. “If you see Steve Curtis, police are warning you not to approach him but call them immediately.”
The news anchor began reporting on the next story, something about a series of home invasions and robberies occurring these past two weeks before Christmas. Luke tuned them out, frowning as he tried to force himself to recall anything about Steve Curtis.
“Luke, cumme!”
Luke pulled his mind back to the present and hefted the fifty-pound bag of animal feed over his shoulder, nearly knocking over a small Christmas tree on a stand. His free hand shot out to steady the tree, then he followed his brother Raymond out of the small country store located outside of New Wilmington, Pennsylvania, their boots crunching on the December snow.
Luke’s pace was slower today and his limp more pronounced. He’d been overdoing it lately. The doctor had warned him that his leg would never be as strong as it had been before he was injured.
Not that he could remember anything about that. Luke had woken up in a ditch one day, several hours away from his parents’ home near New Wilmington. He had no memory of how he had gotten there. He’d been wearing a flannel shirt that had seen much better days and jeans that had been ripped to pieces. His left leg had been in agony. The last thing he remembered was being on his rumspringa, so he’d not thought too much about his attire.
He’d been able to hitch a ride from a farmer to his parents’ haus. Nothing could prepare him for their shocked reaction. And he’d been even more astonished to learn that he was not seventeen, but twenty-two. His parents had informed him that he had had a fight with his father and had left in the middle of the night five years earlier. They hadn’t seen or heard from him since.
They had the local doctor come and treat his leg. He’d had a partial fracture. The doctor had mused that he might have been hit by a car, but if he had been, they’d never found out who had struck him.
To this day, he had no idea what he had done in those five years.
“Luke, bist du gut?”
“Jah, Raymond. I’m gut. Just thinking.”
“Ach. No wonder you’re so slow today.”
Luke grinned, but in his heart, he didn’t feel it. Something dark hovered in his mind. He attempted to shrug it off and followed Raymond out to the parking lot.
Several buggies were there. New Wilmington’s Amish buggies were unique, black on the bottom with burnt-orange tops. Usually, the Amish goal was not to stand out. In this one aspect, however, the nineteen districts of New Wilmington stood apart from the Amish communities in the rest of the country. Luke clambered up into the buggy beside his brother, grunting as his whole weight briefly settled on his bad leg. It was bitterly cold this morning. His breath misted in the air in front of his face, blurring his vision.
As he dropped onto the seat, an image briefly seared across his brain. And a name. “Jennie!”
“What?” Raymond flicked the reins to start the horses moving before tossing a frown at his older brother.
“I don’t know.” He couldn’t shake the sense of urgency. “I just have an image in my mind. A girl. Long brown hair. Brown eyes. She’s so familiar. I think her name is—”
“Jennie.” There was an unfamiliar heaviness in his brother’s voice. Raymond was made for cheer, always ready to laugh.
“You know her?” Luke asked his brother. Why would that surprise him? Raymond might be four years younger than Luke, but he had five years of memories that Luke, at twenty-seven, had lost.
“Jah. I know her.” Raymond hesitated. “She was a friend of yours when we were working on building hauser with Onkel Jed.” Their onkel Jed lived near Spartansburg, a rural area nearly seventy miles north of where the rest of his family lived. In Luke’s mind, he could visualize his daed’s twin brother. They might have looked alike, but Jed’s nature was more flexible.
Luke squeezed his eyes shut, willing the image of the girl to return. “I don’t remember anything about her. Why would I think of her now?” Another question struck him. “If we were such gut friends, why have you never mentioned her before?”
His brother shrugged but wouldn’t meet his eyes. “You were home. She wasn’t Plain.”
Suddenly something clicked. “Daed worried I might have been drawn to her, didn’t he?” It really wasn’t a question. Luke had recalled hearing his father and mother whispering about him soon after he’d returned. They had been concerned that if he regained his memory he might wish to go back to the Englisch world. When his memories hadn’t returned, he’d settled into the Amish world again and had even been baptized into the church two years ago.
“Jah, he and Mamm were both worried,” Raymond finally responded as if the words were dragged from him.
“I have to find her.” Luke hadn’t planned on saying that, but now that the words were out there, he knew it was true.
“For what reason? It’s been years since you’ve seen her.”
The picture of Steve Curtis flashed in his mind again. “That man on the news. Steve Curtis. He’s a bad man, with plenty of reason to hate Jennie. He’ll hurt her.” Again. Luke didn’t question how he knew that the man had hurt the girl before, just as he didn’t question the desperation crawling inside him, making him itch from the inside out. He didn’t remember much about Jennie, not even her last name. But she was important to him. And she was in trouble. Deadly trouble.
Raymond tried to convince him to let it go all the way home, but Luke dug in his heels. He couldn’t ignore the girl that hovered on the fringes of his memory. Not when he thought she was in danger.
Although, he strongly suspected her image would disturb him even if he wasn’t sure she was in harm’s way.
“She’s in danger, Ray. I have to find her. You can help me or not, but don’t think you can stop me.”
He bore his brother’s appraising gaze in silence, jaw clenched. He would not, could not, budge on this issue.
“Ach, you always were stubborn. Fine. I will go with you. Let’s empty the buggy, then we can leave.”
Satisfied, Luke nodded. “I’ll call to see if we can find a driver.”
Raymond frowned, but didn’t object. “Jah, if we’re going to Spartansburg, it would be best.”
Without another word, Luke ignored his aching leg and strode to the barn. Their bishop allowed them a phone in their businesses for such matters. It took Luke fifteen minutes to find a driver who could come on short notice, but he finally found one. He returned to the buggy and assisted his brother, carrying the heavy bags from the buggy and into the barn. When the last bag had been moved, he went into the haus to pack a lunch for them and gather together a change of clothes.
“How long do you plan on being gone?” Raymond asked from the doorway as he watched Luke throw the clothes into a knapsack.
Luke shrugged. “Probably just a few hours. But I want to be prepared.”
Bag packed, he moved out onto the porch to wait for the driver. Raymond explained to their mother that they were heading to Spartansburg. Luke noticed he made no mention of Jennie, whoever she was. It was probably for the best. He couldn’t have explained the urgency sweeping through his veins.
When their driver, Sam, arrived, Raymond sat in the back, allowing Luke to sit up front in the passenger seat. As Sam drove, Luke stared out the window, pounding his fist lightly against his thigh.
He’d been down these roads so many times in the past five years. Now his eyes scoured the passing scenery, searching for some clue that might jog his lost memories. Just one hint about who this woman was and why his very soul screamed that he needed to hurry.
Sam pulled off I-79 at the Meadville-Conneaut Lake exit. Luke’s entire body sprang to attention.
“Is something wrong?” Raymond demanded from the back.
“She’s here, in Meadville. Not in the city, but close to it. At least, I think she is.” How he knew this, he couldn’t say. But now that they were here, he could sense that they were getting close. He couldn’t visualize the whole journey or the end destination, but as they approached an intersection, he knew whether they should turn or keep straight. The streets, with their wreath-decorated light posts, were somehow familiar. He’d definitely been here before.
Part of him was excited that his memory might be returning. But most of his thoughts were consumed with the image of the brown-haired woman he’d seen in his mind. He knew she was in danger. Just as he knew she was somehow important to him, but he wasn’t willing to share that insight with his brother. Not yet, with tension zipping through him, tightening his shoulders and clenching his gut.
A little more than a half hour later, he pressed his face closer to the window, staring at the scenery, the familiarity of the place like a spiderweb he’d walked under. He could feel it—it tickled his senses, but he couldn’t quite grasp it.
He’d been through here many times before when he’d traveled to Onkel Jed and Tante Eleanor’s haus. Yet never had his emotions been stirred to this extent.
He knew this place, more than just as a spectator moving through.
He had lived here, or close by. He couldn’t remember anything else, but this he knew for a fact. Under his breath, he muttered a quick prayer for Gott to bless their endeavor.
This was where they would find Jennie.
If they weren’t too late.
The phone was ringing as Jennie Beiler shoved her key into the lock of her apartment and let herself in. “Hold on. Hold on,” she muttered, kicking off her gray booties by the door before hurrying to the kitchen. She set one of the grocery bags on the counter. Then she pushed the speaker on the phone.
“Hello?”
“Hey, girl. It’s Randi.”
“Hold on a minute.” Jennie grabbed her earbuds and pushed the plug into the audio jack. Placing the small plastic buds in her ears, she shoved the phone into her back jeans pocket. “Okay, I can hear you now.”
Randi Griggs was her oldest friend. They’d known each other since they were both eleven and in foster care. They chatted for a few minutes about Christmas plans. Neither Jennie nor Randi had parents around, although they both had older brothers.
“Are you going to see your brother and his wife?” Randi asked.
Jennie washed the vegetables before putting them in the refrigerator. Her son, LJ, loved green peppers and carrots, so she always made sure to have those on hand.
“No. He and Sophie are traveling this year with Celine and their daughter.” Celine was Sophie’s sixteen-year-old sister.
The neighbors in the next apartment started arguing. Jennie flipped the television on and kept the volume on low to block out the words. She didn’t particularly want to hear what they were fighting about.
“I’ll bet LJ is still begging for a puppy,” Randi laughed.
Jennie carried the milk and orange juice to the refrigerator, opening her mouth to reply, but the words lodged in her throat as she saw the television news alert. Sudden fear choked her. Steve Curtis had escaped from prison.
She hadn’t seen her stepfather since she was fifteen. Not since she’d testified against him for rape and attempted murder. He looked older, and harder, but she’d know that face anywhere. And now he was on the loose.
He would come for her. She knew it. He had promised he’d get his revenge for her costing him everything. Steve always kept his promises.
The two containers slipped from Jennie’s hands. The gallon of milk burst open and splashed on her whitewashed jeans and soaked her thick pink woolen socks. She ignored the discomfort. And the ruined groceries. Her world had tipped on its side and she was struggling to keep her balance.
“Jennie? Are you still there?”
Randi’s voice pulled her back to the present.
Jennie squeezed her eyes shut, forcing her mind to blot out the memories assailing her. “Randi, I’m sorry. I have to go. Call you later.”
Without waiting for a response, she hung up on the other woman. Her breath hitched as her anxiety spiked.
The man who had attacked her, not once but twice, had escaped from prison.
When Steve had first attacked her, she’d been barely eleven, and her brother, Aiden, had rescued her before she was harmed. Her testimony against her stepfather had put Steve in jail for attempted rape and assault.
Her mother had accused her of lying, of trying to destroy their family. Even with Aiden there as a witness, she’d refused to accept that what her children said was true. By the time she had realized her daughter was telling the truth, the system had declared her an unfit mother for endangering the welfare of her children. Jennie and Aiden were removed from the home. The mortification had been too much. Barbara Forster had divorced her worthless husband, emptied their checking account and relinquished her parental rights. Jennie never saw her again.
Aiden and Jennie had no other family. Their father had died years before. They had landed in different foster care homes. She’d always lived with the dread of Steve returning for her. She woke up, night after night, his threats ringing in her ears. She was to blame for the loss of his wife, his job and his reputation. Because of her, he would forever be branded a predator. Her fears had become a reality when she was fifteen, and Steve had gotten out on parole after serving less than four years. He’d come after her, just like he’d promised. Without her brother around, he’d violently assaulted her and stabbed her in the shoulder.
Luke had heard her screaming. He’d arrived too late to save her from being raped, but he was in time to save her life. He’d grabbed the knife before Steve could stab her a second time. Once again, she testified against Steve, this time for rape and attempted murder.
Luke had been wonderful. He’d stayed with Jennie during her therapy, brought her wounded heart back to life. When she was nineteen, she’d married him. They were young, but she felt what they had would last forever. She had dropped her defenses and allowed herself to love. Then he’d been killed in an explosion at work five years ago. His body had never been recovered.
Needing something to occupy herself, Jennie grabbed the mop from the closet to clean up the mess from the spilled milk. Her hands shook as she turned on the faucet. A rock sat in the pit of her stomach, unsettling the bagel she’d indulged in earlier while running errands.
Images from the past kept intruding. Steve’s face, dark with anger above her. His fist coming down fast. Luke telling her he loved her, that he’d never leave her.
But he had left her, although not by choice.
She dashed her fist across her eyes, swiping away the wetness.
She was so done crying. He had sworn he’d never leave, and then he was gone. Three others had been killed in the explosion, and their wives had been able to bury them.
She’d buried an empty casket.
And her heart.
Well, not completely.
Jennie finished cleaning the floor and put the mop away, touching a picture on the wall as she passed. Luke Junior, or LJ, had curly blond hair, blue eyes and a smile that could melt stone. The one thing that remained of the love she’d shared with Luke. The reason she was able to get up each morning and smile.
“Oh, no!” Shock rooted her feet to the floor. What if Steve went after him? What if he targeted her son to get his revenge? LJ was only four. He’d been taught not to talk to strangers, but he was still only a small child. No match for a man like Steve.
It was a good thing she’d taken the day off for a dental appointment. Jennie worked as a computer technician Monday through Thursday, but her dentist was closed on Fridays. If she’d been at work, she probably would have missed the alert about Steve.
She grabbed her keys and hurried to the door, brushing against the Christmas tree. A handful of ornaments tumbled to the tree skirt. She ignored them as she ran to the small shoe mat near the door and shoved her feet into her booties. She didn’t even take the time to lock the door. LJ’s preschool didn’t end for another hour, but she couldn’t wait. She needed to hold her baby in her arms now, to see for herself that he was well. Safe.
She dashed down the steps at top speed, nearly colliding with another tenant. She didn’t know his name, only that he worked nights and she rarely saw him. He wobbled on the stairs.
“Sorry!” she yelled, continuing her mad dash to get her son.
Once outside, she had to slow down, although she didn’t want to. The landlord hadn’t spread salt on the icy walk yet. The path between the apartment building and the parking lot was slick enough to sled on. Meadville and the surrounding area was part of the northwestern PA snowbelt, so they got pelted frequently with snow and ice. After what felt like forever, she made it to her car and buckled herself in.
The temptation to pray for safety for herself and her son hit her in a wave so hard, she rocked in her seat. She shrugged it off. God wouldn’t help her. Where was He all those hard years? If He had loved her, shouldn’t He have protected her? She couldn’t get beyond her bitterness.
At least she had LJ. She’d also found her brother, Aiden, again. He’d located her four and a half years ago. If only Aiden were home, she and LJ would go and stay with him. But he wasn’t. He and Sophie had taken a trip to France for the holidays with their three-year-old daughter, Rose, and Celine. They’d invited Jennie and her son, but Jennie had declined. She’d never been on a plane before and wasn’t comfortable with her first flight being across the ocean. She was now regretting that decision. Had she gone with them, Aiden would have been with her when she heard of Steve’s escape. He would have known what to do.
She couldn’t lose focus. The preschool was ten minutes away normally, but the icy conditions doubled her time. What if she was too late? If she lost LJ, she’d never survive it.
Shifting her car into Park with enough force that the engine shuttered, she turned off the ignition and threw the door open. She hurried past a man dressed like Santa. Her eyes briefly met his as he waved at those passing and called out Christmas greetings. She averted her eyes, tensing. Ridiculous to be scared of a man trying to drum up business for his store. Still, something about him unnerved her. She nearly ran up the walk to the front door. The receptionist buzzed her in. She signed in then strode down to LJ’s room.
“Mama!” LJ’s face split into a wide grin as he spotted his mother when she entered his classroom.
She wanted to wilt against the wall. He was safe. No one had hurt him. Had she overreacted? No. She couldn’t take a chance.
LJ’s teacher, Miss Prince, sat at a large kidney-shaped table, reading with a student.
“I’ll be right back, Zoe.” She stood and walked over to Jennie. “Hi, Jennie. I didn’t know you were coming now.”
“I’m taking LJ home early.” Jennie rubbed a shaking hand through her boy’s curls. “Get your backpack, buddy. We’re leaving.”
“Goody!” He hugged her. “Are we going home, Mama?”
Jennie didn’t answer. It didn’t matter. He was already gone, to get his belongings, chattering to his friends that he was leaving early.
“Will you be back tomorrow?” Miss Prince smiled at him as he stopped again next to Jennie. “It’s the last day before we’re off.”
Jennie startled. “Oh. I forgot. Next week is Christmas break.”
“That’s right.” Miss Prince nodded. “With Christmas on Thursday, the schools around here are closed all next week. He’ll have school off until January 2.”
Fourteen days before she’d need to decide what to do. The relief washed over her. She didn’t need to worry about making up an excuse as to why LJ wouldn’t be back. Because there was no way she was sending him to school until the danger was past.
What if it never was? Would she ever be free of the past?
Once in the parking lot, she glanced around, searching for anything suspicious.
“Look, Mama! Santa!”
Turning her head, she saw the man she’d passed earlier climbing onto a motorcycle. He looked ridiculous. Without a glance her way, he rumbled down the street and around the corner. She felt silly, letting him bother her. Regardless, she stumbled to the driver’s door in her haste to get out of the parking lot.
At home, she looked all the way around her car before turning it off. Not seeing anything, she quickly exited the vehicle and then moved around to the back to get her son. She kept a tight hold on his hand as they entered the building.
Her phone rang. She grimaced. It was Randi again. She placed the earbuds in her ears as they arrived at the apartment.
She forgot about answering the call when she twisted the knob and remembered with dismay that she had left the door unlocked in her haste. Unease rocked in her belly.
She opened the door with caution and peeked in before entering.
Nothing was out of place. The apartment looked just as she’d left it when she’d rushed out. Moving inside, she heard glass breaking under her foot as she stepped on an ornament.
Alarm shivered up her spine. The ornaments had landed on the tree skirt, not on her carpet. With a shriek, she spun full circle, coming face-to-face with Santa Claus. It was the man she’d seen on the street.
He was too large to be Steve.
He launched himself at her, grabbing the earbud cord hooked to her phone. He quickly wrapped it around her throat and pulled. She couldn’t breathe!
LJ screamed and launched himself at the man. The stranger shoved him away with a casual swipe before focusing again on Jennie.
She was going to die. What would happen to her son?
A moment later the cord around her neck went limp and the Santa was pulled away by two Amish men rushing through the open door. The Santa bounced off the wall with a vicious yell, his white beard lying on the floor of the apartment. She’d never seen him before in her life. Her eyes rose to meet his briefly. A shiver ran through her at his cold glare. He tore his gaze away before turning and bolting from the apartment. His heavy footsteps thundered down the stairs.
She was too shocked to care. Her world shrank down to the man standing in front of her, staring at her with confused eyes. Eyes she saw every day when she looked at their son.
Luke, the man she’d mourned for nearly five years, was standing in front of her, looking at her like she was a complete stranger.