Luke 8: 17.
For nothing is hidden that will not be made manifest, nor is anything secret that will not be known and come to light.

Chapter 3.

 

It was almost like coming home.

Kate never thought she could miss office life. She had always preferred fieldwork to paper pushing. However, as she gazed around the small town police station, the blur of overlapping voices sounded familiar and comforting.

Kate looked around, wondering what to do. She couldn't exactly go to the sitting area and blend in, not dressed as an Amish woman.

“Excuse me miss. Can I help you?”

Case in point. It was a busy office, but she wasn't here ten seconds before being addressed. She turned her head to see a young receptionist who looked fresh from school, over dressed and too under confident to pull off the look. Kate forced a smile at the girl. If she were herself, she'd have been telling the girl about her posture right about now. Confident appearances went a long way in their line of work.

Of course, here she wasn't a U.S. Marshal. She wasn't an experienced field agent with years of on-the-job training to offer. She was just some Amish woman who had walked off the street. And they were more interested in why she showed up than what her credentials might be.

“Miss?”

“Oh, yes. I came to see Officer Ryan Weaver,” Kate finally said, as she turned her full attention to the woman. She felt a small wave of irritation at her own state of distraction. She'd never been fully comfortable in the Amish community, but she had never been so off her game. This wasn't the time or place to be acting like a cadet.

“I'm sorry.” The woman gave her a puzzled, apologetic smile. “He’s out on patrol. I could take your number and leave it on his desk for you.”

Kate gave the woman a thin smile, and processed the suggestion. She supposed she could give the number for the phone in the barn, but she had no interest in lingering around a barn waiting on a call back like a school girl.

She watched the woman's face color as the realization sank in that there were still places in the world that people did not live on their phones. Kate felt a little sorry for the girl, especially as the receptionist fumbled out an apology and seemed at a loss as to how to deal with the situation.

“It's all right; I don't mind waiting.” Kate offered, more to help prompt the girl to a proper solution. It was the truth. She could use an excuse to linger in the office a while longer. Listen to the sights and sounds. Take in the smell of old coffee and ink toner.

“Of course.” The young woman looked relieved to have some sort of solution for the moment. “It might be a while.”

“I have nothing but time,” Kate assured her.

Kate was surprised when she was taken to Ryan's office to wait. She assumed she would simply remain in the waiting area until he got there.

After assurances that she didn't need anything while she waited, she was finally left alone to look over the office space. Kate wasn't sure exactly how long Ryan had been in town. She knew he had not been here that much longer than she had, and she had seen janitor's closets bigger than the office they made him. Still, he managed to give the space a personal touch. There were a few books on Forensics and cold cases. A book on boating drew her eye. That was unusual in a place that had no major lakes or rivers to boat at. Maybe his last location had a port?

She eyeballed the files that were scattered on his desk. She itched to peek through them, wondering if there was any data on the recent crime rings. Or better yet, some clues about Jeremiah's case. Would they have assigned it to Ryan, come to think of it? He did end up spending a lot of time on cases related to the Amish community.

No, she wasn't going to go nosing through Ryan's files just because the new receptionist made it painfully easy to do so. She closed her eyes and listened to the sounds of the office. For a moment, she could almost pretend that she was in her own office. How long had it been? She missed paperwork and patrols; she even missed the case files. She missed the late nights on the job followed by an early morning of paperwork. She'd never complain about needing a vacation again.

It wasn't all bad. She had met some amazing people in her time here. She had learned a lot of things, and had an appreciation for stuff she had previously taken for granted.

“Still, if this keeps up much longer, I'll end up hunting down that mole myself.” Kate frowned as she pondered the possibility. It was risky of course. And there was no guarantee that the danger would pass, just because the mole was apprehended. But at the same time, this was dragging out far too long.

If Kate kept up this charade much longer, she was sure that something was going to go wrong. There was a huge difference between amnesia and never having a skill in the first place. The Amish weren't fools. They took the claim that her mistakes were due to memory loss without question at first. Yet surely they would eventually wonder how she could act like she'd never done any of this stuff a day in her life.

Kate wondered how she had fooled them for so long, and felt a pang of guilt. Eventually she was going to draw unwanted attention. After all, she could demonstrate no memory of family; no one from her imaginary old community ever called, and what’s more, it was clear that she was learning everything from scratch.

And if the mole was never found? Was she supposed to stay Kate the clueless Amish? Be swapped from place to place every few months to keep the lies from adding up? Never be herself again?

Kate was beginning to understand why certain people would break rules in witness protection. She sued to wonder why some of them talked to people they shouldn't, and wanted to go back to their old lives, despite the risk. She finally understood that the loss of an identity one had worked all their life to build was crushing, even to a workaholic loner like herself. How much worse would this be if she actually had people waiting for her back there?

“Kate?”

Kate roused herself from her musings and opened her eyes. Ryan stood in the doorway with his jacket slung over one shoulder. As usual, he looked absolutely stunning, even fresh off the beat. In fact, if she didn't know better, she would have thought he was preparing for a magazine shoot instead of a day in the office. And those eyes. If she wasn't careful, then she could get lost in those eyes.

“Hello, Ryan.” Kate rose quickly to her feet and checked the time on the wall clock. Not much time had passed at all.

“I was told I had a visitor,” Ryan said as he smiled at her. Something fluttered in Kate’s chest at his smile. For a moment, she wondered why. She had dated before; she had felt attracted to men before. Yet with Ryan, it always felt a little different somehow.

As Ryan walked past her to take up his seat, she felt a tingle shiver up her arm and down her spine. Every nerve in her body felt like it was on high alert, but in an exhilarating way.

“I'm, I'm...” She blinked and tried to find the words. Had she been pretending to be an awkward Amish for too long? She actually felt like she couldn't find the words to say. “I uh. Jeremiah.”

“Jeremiah?” Ryan frowned.

“Jeremiah Steinbeck,” Kate said, as she tried to clear the cobwebs out of her head and get back in the game. What was wrong with her? “He’s Beckie’s cousin. Everyone’s frantic over his arrest. I was hoping you might be able to help them.”

“Steinbeck?” It might have been her imagination, but he looked a little relieved that this was a business call, and disappointed too, oddly enough. Was it possible to be both? “Steinbeck. That’s the murder case in that café.”

Kate nodded as she folded her hands in front of her, trying to keep the guise of the proper Amish woman. “We know he is innocent, but the evidence looks bad for him.”

“I hate to break this to you, Kate -”

“No one wants to believe their family can kill someone else,” she finished for him. She herself had made that speech to many family members of criminals. She knew how hard it was for them to accept such a horrible truth, especially when they loved the criminal.

Ryan nodded grimly. “I know it's probably not what you want to hear.”

“I expected it,” she admitted with a smile. “But something isn't adding up about the whole thing. Like why he would poison the journalist someplace so obvious? There are lots of quiet places he could have taken the man. And why poison him if they were fighting loud enough for someone to call? That is a pretty slow way to do the job if they were able to draw that kind of attention to themselves.”

Ryan furrowed his brow as he pondered the second one. “You may have a point there, Kate. Pretty sharp thinking for a quiet country girl.”

“Oh no,” Kate said quickly. “We were discussing the case for hours at the last knitting circle. Beckie’s a sweet woman. Everybody wanted to find some way to help.”

“So you ladies all started poking around for holes in the story.” Ryan seemed impressed. Kate knew the feeling. The way the women could brainstorm together still astounded her, as did the way in which they could rally around a cause. “Maybe we should hire your group to work on some cases,” Ryan said.

Kate gave a polite laugh at his joke. “Right now, they’re concerned about Jeremiah.”

“Let me make a couple calls. Maybe I can figure something out, but just keep in mind that he could still be guilty.”

“I understand. But at least it will be less about circumstantial evidence.”

Ryan gave her a half grin. “You've been hanging around us too long.”

“Pardon?” she asked. Her gut clenched as she suddenly realized her carelessness.

“Circumstantial evidence,” he repeated with a hint of amusement. “You said it like you've been in the field for years.”

She gave a strained smile. She had been saying things like that for years. This fake Amish thing was getting older by the minute. She frantically tried to think up a reason why it would seem so natural. “We read too, you know. It's not all knitting and baking.”

“Of course.” Ryan looked a little dejected over the sharp edge in her tone. “I didn't mean anything by that. I was just teasing you. It’s a bad time for jokes, I know, what with one of your own in the hot seat. I’m sorry.”

One of her own. If only he knew. In his eyes, she was Kate the Amish woman. What would he ever think of the real her? Or of the months of lies to keep her cover, at that? Kate felt a painful twisting in her stomach as she tried to imagine his reaction.

“No, I'm sorry,” she said apologetically. “It's a hard time for Beckie. I guess it rubbed off on me.”

“That's understandable.” Ryan gave a thin smile, and Kate wanted to bang her head on the desk for handling the slip poorly. “You came to this town for some R and R after your accident, and you get pulled into one thing after another. It would be a lot for anyone.”

“I'll be all right,” she said automatically, then quickly added, “mostly because of you and the ladies looking out for me. I hope you understand how grateful I am.”

Even as Ryan stayed a polite distance from her, he did not hesitate to reach out and lay a hand over hers. She felt another warm shiver run through every nerve in her body as she stared into his eyes.

“I'll be there anytime you need someone,” he said with such calm commitment that her heart raced. “Anytime at all.”

Despite the tingling, exciting emotions that raced through her, there was an ever present shadow that darkened her thoughts, keeping her from becoming totally lost in that promise.

I hope you still feel that way when you find out how non-Amish I really am.