Abram felt like a caged grizzly bear when they found the cabin by the water’s edge empty. He climbed back into the sheriff’s squad car.
“Where to now?” Samuel asked, his voice as hard as steel and reflecting the way Abram felt.
“Ezra Jacobs’s place. Jacobs said he saw a tall red-haired man that matched the description of a person Miriam had seen at the cabin. The old man’s memory is not the best, but perhaps he will have remembered more about what happened.”
Samuel accelerated. “Hold on,” he told Abram as he pulled onto the mountain road, heading for the turnoff to Jacobs’s cabin. He made the sharp turn onto the narrow, pitted roadway that led up the steep incline, sending gravel and dirt flying.
They braked to a stop in front of the cabin, leaped from the car and raced to the porch. The sheriff called Ezra’s name and announced, “Sheriff’s office,” before he entered the small abode. What they found took Abram’s breath.
The old man lay on the floor in a pool of blood. His faithful dog, Gus, whined at his side.
The sheriff knelt beside Ezra and felt for a pulse. He looked up with heavy eyes and shook his head. “He’s gone.”
Pulling out his cell, he called Dispatch and requested backup. “We also need the coroner, a crime scene specialist and an ambulance to transport the body to the morgue.”
A siren sounded, heading their way.
“Tell everyone to go silent,” Samuel said to the dispatcher. Within seconds, the shrill wail died.
As Samuel pocketed his cell, a car charged up the gravel trail and braked in front of the cabin.
Deputy Curtis Idler climbed from behind the wheel and hurried to join Abram and the sheriff.
“What happened?” he asked before he looked down and saw the body. He let out a lungful of air and shook his head. “Looks like we’ve got a killer on the loose.”
Not the story Curtis had given Abram earlier when the deputy had claimed Serpent was innocent of wrongdoing.
“Did you question Ned Quigley about releasing Pearson?” Abram demanded as he tried to control his anger.
Curtis held up a hand defensively. “I told you what Quigley said. Pearson’s alibi was airtight.”
“I’m beginning to think I hired the wrong guy,” the sheriff said. “Do you know where Ned is now?”
Curtis shook his head. “I haven’t seen him all day. His girlfriend called and said he had a stomach virus, but I’m not sure if we can trust her.”
“Why not?”
“She worked with the Petersville Police Department as a file clerk some years back. If any of those cops are bad, she might be part of the group.”
“I’ll deal with Ned when we get back to town,” the sheriff assured Curtis. “Right now, we have to find Miriam Miller. Pearson may have her. She was previously held in a cabin situated near running water.”
“Water? You mean the river? What about the abandoned cabin on the other side of the roadway?”
Samuel nodded. “We’ve already checked it out.”
Abram stepped onto the porch and rounded the cabin. Jacobs had spotted the red-haired man. Surely the old guy didn’t travel far from home, which meant Red had been close by. At the rear of the cabin, Abram spied the continuation of a roadway that angled under an overhang of oaks and disappeared up the mountain into the thick forest.
He came back and told Samuel.
“Let’s go.” The sheriff and Abram took the lead with Curtis following in the second car. The path was steep and rough, but they soon came upon a waterfall. The running water Miriam had heard.
Getting out of his squad car, Curtis drew his gun and pointed to a thick patch of hardwoods and pines. “I’ll check to the right. You two head to the left.”
Samuel held up his hand. “Stay behind me, Abram. Or you can wait in the car.”
“I am going with you.”
Abram wanted to push quickly through the brush, but Samuel insisted they take it slow. “We have to use caution and cover. We don’t want Pearson to see us first.”
He was right, of course, but Abram kept thinking of Miriam being held against her will.
Let her be alive. Please, Gott. I beg forgiveness for all my transgressions. For my sinful past. Do not let my failings keep You from helping Miriam.
The sharp report of a gunshot sounded behind them. Samuel turned and ran, retracing his steps as he headed in the direction of the gunfire. Abram passed him, fearing the worst. It couldn’t be Miriam.
“Get behind me,” Samuel warned. But Abram refused to slow down. He needed to find Miriam.
Passing the area where they had parked the cars, they raced into the thick brush, following the path Curtis had taken. Not more than fifty feet into the thicket, they spied the cabin and Pearson’s body on the front porch with a bullet in his chest. Just like Jacobs, the Serpent lay in a pool of his own blood.
Curtis knelt over him and touched his neck. “He had a weapon.”
“Did you identify yourself as from the sheriff’s office?” Samuel asked.
“Of course I did,” Curtis insisted. “He wouldn’t drop his weapon. I didn’t have a choice.”
“Miriam?” Frantic to find her, Abram started for the cabin.
Curtis stepped in front of him. “I’ll go first. You don’t know who’s in there.”
“I do not care. I need to find her.”
The sheriff stared down at where Pearson lay. He pursed his lips and turned to glare at Curtis.
“What?” A muscle twitched under Curtis’s eye.
“Pearson’s gun is still in his holster.”
“He had another weapon. It must have fallen into the bushes.”
Samuel took a step toward the deputy. “Give me your gun, Curtis.”
“What are you talking about? Pearson was a criminal. He kidnapped a woman. She’s tied up inside.”
“Have you seen her?” Samuel stepped closer, his voice low and menacing.
Abram inched closer, needing to get into the cabin.
“Stay where you are.” Curtis aimed his gun at the sheriff but flicked his gaze to Abram.
“Calm down, Curtis. There will be an investigation,” the sheriff said. “If you’re telling the truth, you’ll be exonerated.”
“You always think you know best. I was in line for sheriff until you decided to run for office. I knew I didn’t have a chance. People thought you were the honest candidate because of your Amish background. They don’t know that you left your community because you couldn’t follow the rules.”
“Give me the gun, Curtis.” The sheriff inched closer. Abram did the same.
“You’ll never get away with this,” Samuel warned.
“Of course I will,” Curtis boasted. “I’ll blame it all on Pearson. He was a loser. He wouldn’t follow my lead. He made me kill that old woman. I didn’t want to, but she started screaming. At least her daughter didn’t see my face. Pearson and I had been a team, but he got pushy and shoved his weight around. The mother was protective of her daughter, saying how special she was and how much she loved her. It made me sick.”
Curtis shook his head with disgust. “My mother left me in a motel until child services picked me up. I was stuck in that room for two days. How do you think that feels, Sam? Do you have any idea? You were raised in a loving family and you turned your back on them. I didn’t have anyone to love me.”
“I’m sorry for your childhood, Curtis.” Samuel’s voice was filled with understanding. He took a step closer then extended his hand as if willing Curtis to give him the weapon. “I’ll get you help. Someone to talk to you. You didn’t do anything wrong, Curtis. I understand why you’re upset at your mother. Did you kill the woman because she reminded you of your mother?”
Curtis’s expression revealed the sheriff had hit too close to home. The deputy shook his head. “Shut up, Sam. Don’t talk about my childhood.”
“You were a good kid. Your mother loved you. Something unforeseen must have happened to her so she couldn’t get back to you.” Another step. “Now give me the weapon. You can trust me.”
Sam lunged. Curtis fired. The sheriff gasped, clutched his side and fell to the ground.
Abram raced toward the deputy. A second shot winged his chest and knocked the air from his lungs. He tumbled to the porch then crawled up the steps. Abram’s vision blurred and the cabin swirled around him. Time stood still for one long, painful moment, then...
Footsteps sounded. He looked up, seeing Miriam dragged from the cabin with her arms tied in front of her. Curtis yanked her down the steps and into the brush.
Abram stumbled toward Samuel and felt his neck for a pulse. He was breathing, but his pulse was erratic. Abram grabbed the sheriff’s cell and pressed the prompt for the dispatcher.
“The sheriff...needs an ambulance,” Abram said when the woman answered. He pulled in a deep breath and continued on. “The cabin...sits up the mountain behind Old Man Jacobs’s place. Have the sheriff’s office set up a roadblock at the fork in the road to town. Contact the Petersville police. Instruct them to block the mountain road that leads there, as well. Curtis Idler his taken a hostage and will be heading in one of those two directions.”
Samuel struggled to speak after Abram disconnected. “Go...now. Take...keys.”
“I’m not going to leave you,” Abram insisted.
“You drive. You can. Remember... Trevor.”
Trevor, the friend who had taught Abram to drive, who had loaned him his radio, who had encouraged him to leave the Amish way of life.
“I...know...” Samuel gasped for air. “You were...behind...the wheel.”
The day of the accident. The day Trevor had died.
After Emma’s accident, Abram had gone joyriding with his friend. Trevor had let Abram drive. He’d been reckless, moving too fast on a windy lakeside road.
“Go...” Samuel insisted. “Now.”
“The ambulance is on the way. Hang on.”
Abram grabbed the keys from Samuel’s pocket and ran toward the clearing. He climbed behind the wheel of the sheriff’s squad car, remembering his youth and the times Trevor had let him drive.
He turned the key in the ignition and stepped on the accelerator. The car lurched forward. The radio squawked as the deputies called in their locations. They were still too far away to help.
Abram gripped the steering wheel, seeing Curtis in the distance. The deputy was driving much too fast along the winding mountain road. Abram was as well, but he could not let him get away with Miriam.
Isaac’s dairy came into view. He saw his own farm in the distance. Just so Emma and Isaac and little Daniel were still at the market and not anywhere near Curtis. Sirens sounded in the distance, approaching on the road from town. Their roadblock would stop the deputy. At least that was Abram’s hope.
The deputy’s car approached the fork. Abram’s heart stopped. Curtis took the road to the right, the road that passed Abram’s house. The road that led to the bridge.
“No,” Abram bellowed. The bridge looked stable enough, but the wood was rotten and would buckle with any weight. Miriam would be hurled into the water.
Just like Trevor so long ago.
Abram pushed the car faster. His hat flew off, his hands were white-knuckled on the steering wheel. He screeched around the bend. In the distance he saw the deputy’s car heading straight for the bridge. Abram laid on the horn, needing to warn him. Curtis had to stop.
Abram’s heart jammed in his throat as the deputy’s car sailed across the bridge. In a split second the wooden platform groaned then crumbled like a child’s toy, toppling the squad car—along with Miriam—into the raging river below.
Accelerating even faster, Abram drove to the edge of the bridge, screeched to a stop and leaped from the car. He threw off his jacket, kicked out of his shoes and dove into the water.
The frigid cold took his breath. He beat the rapid current with strong strokes that took him to the middle of the river. The car was already partially submerged.
Diving down into the murky river, he grabbed the passenger door that hung open and felt inside, searching for Miriam. She was not in the car, neither was Curtis. A cracked windshield big enough for a body to hurl through paralyzed him for one long moment.
Gott help me.
He surfaced for air, grabbed a breath and then dove deep again, beneath the car that was slowly sinking.
Miriam’s sweet face, her smile, her eyes...she was all he could think of.
Where was she?
He stretched his arms, thinking of Christ who had died on the cross. Gott, do not let her die.
His hand touched something. A piece of fabric. He pulled it close, feeling the softness of her flesh. He wrapped his arms around her waist and kicked to the surface.
Sheriffs’ cars clustered at the edge of the road. Police from Petersville had already lowered a boat into the water.
“Here!” Abram shouted, kicking his legs and holding Miriam close with one arm while he raised the other overhead.
“There’s Zook,” an officer shouted. “He’s got the woman.”
The boat neared. Hands reached for Miriam and pulled her from the water.
“I am all right. Get her to safety,” Abram insisted.
When he started to swim, he realized his folly. He could not move his left arm. An officer in a second boat pulled him to shore. “You’re wounded, Abram. It’s a wonder you could swim at all.”
But he had. He had found Miriam and saved her.
Once on land he raced to where she lay, pale as death, on a stretcher. “How is she?” he asked the medic who was working on her.
The EMT shook his head. “We’re taking her to the hospital.”
“I must go with her,” Abram insisted.
“You can’t. We’ll bring another ambulance. Looks like you need to be treated, as well.”
Abram’s heart broke as the EMTs lifted Miriam into the ambulance. Would he ever see her again or had Gott taken another woman from him? A woman he loved and wanted to cherish for the rest of his life?
Emma was right. He had lived too long in the past. He wanted a future with Miriam.
But would she survive?