As we exited the church an hour later, I spotted Chief Rose across the street leaning against her police cruiser. Church members whispered as they traversed the lawn to their cars. The police chief, with her unwavering gaze and arms crossed at the chest, seemed to revel in the attention.
Becky scowled. “What is she doing here?”
“I have no idea.” I scanned the crowd for Timothy. He and Danny stood with Hannah and her pals. I wasn’t going to interrupt that conversation.
“I can’t talk to her here,” Becky said. “People will see.”
I nodded, licking my lips. “Why don’t you start walking home, and I’ll talk to her. If she needs you, she knows where to find you.”
Becky gave me a grateful smile and hurried down the sidewalk.
I ignored the stares from the people leaving the church as I approached the police chief. “Can I help you with something, Chief Rose?”
“I need to talk to you.”
“You know where I live. Why did you have to show up here at church? Becky is already the main topic of conversation in town. You glowering at us from across the street doesn’t help.” I paused. “How did you know we would be here anyway?”
She adjusted the aviator sunglasses on her nose. Did she think she looked like a TV cop? “This is the church Becky’s been attending, isn’t it?”
“How would you know that?”
She shrugged. “It’s called police work. This is my town. It’s my business to know everything.”
I clenched my jaw to stop a smart retort. Sarcasm wasn’t going to help Becky.
“I was hoping to talk to both you and Becky, but I guess just you will do.”
“What is it?”
“Curt and Brock have an airtight alibi. They were in lockup in the county jail for drunk and disorderly conduct on Friday. They weren’t released until eight on Friday morning. According to Becky, she left your house around eight that morning, so the timetable rules them out.”
My heart sank. “Maybe they cut the brake line before they were arrested.”
Chief Rose shook her head. “The crime scene investigator doesn’t think so. He said the line was cut so deeply that he estimates it would have given way your first drive with it.”
“So what.”
The chief folded her arms across her chest. “So what?”
“The last time I drove the car was Wednesday afternoon. There was a lot of time between Wednesday afternoon and Thursday night. They still could have done it.”
Chief Rose sighed. “I know that. Wednesday and Thursday they were on a job in Columbus. I have a reliable witness for that one, too.”
“Oh.” I hadn’t realized how much I wanted it to be Curt and Brock, how much I wanted this to all be over. Unfortunately, it was turning out to be a lot harder than I expected.
“Any other possibilities?” the police chief asked.
My shoulders slumped. “I have no idea who else could have done it.”
She stared at me intently. “Is there anyone else who doesn’t like you?”
Sabrina came to mind, but the thought of my stepmother making the effort was laughable. “No, I can’t think of anyone.”
She removed her sunglasses, revealing blue eye liner. Did she go through a pencil a week? “They must have been after Becky, then. Do you know if she has any enemies?”
“No.”
“She left the Amish, correct? Maybe her family was upset about it.” She tapped her sunglasses on her cheek.
I barked a laugh. “Upset enough to cut the brake line in my car? No way.”
Her mouth formed a hard line.
I debated telling her my theory that the bishop was the intended victim, but I held my tongue. Truth be told, there were a lot of holes in my idea. First of all, how would the person who cut the brake line know that Becky would come across the bishop on Butler Road? The more I thought about my idea, the more ridiculous it seemed.
“Have you thought about the accident in relation to the problems on the Amish farms?” I asked.
“If Curt and Brock had nothing to do with your car, then the incidents can’t be related. I’m almost certain those two are behind damage in the Amish district. I just can’t get any Amish witnesses to help me prove it.” She opened the door to her cruiser. “I’d be careful, Chloe. Curt and Brock know they were questioned about the accident. They aren’t the sharpest tools in the shed, but they’ll figure out who turned them in. You see them, you call me.”
I shivered. “What about their threats against me? Or driving by my house at night?”
She shrugged as if it didn’t matter to her. “You can always open a restraining order on them if you want to.”
I didn’t like that idea. Maybe telling the police chief my suspicions was enough to encourage them to leave Becky and me alone.
Chief Rose slapped the hood of her car. “I’ll be in touch.”
I don’t doubt it.
She hopped into her cruiser and drove away. When I could no longer see Chief Rose’s car, I started down the sidewalk in the direction that Becky went.
Footsteps running behind me on the sidewalk made my heart nearly jump out of my chest. Was it Curt or Brock? I spun around to see Timothy jogging toward me. “Chloe, wait!”
I stopped and tried not to think about Hannah and him together.
“What did Greta say?”
I blinked at him. “Greta?”
His face flushed. “Chief Rose, I mean.”
I ignored the knot in my stomach and instead relayed my conversation with the police chief. Despite doubts about my own theory, I added, “We need to make sure it was just a coincidence Bishop Glick was on that road when Becky was.”
He nodded.
“What can we do?”
“Nothing today. It’s Sunday. The Amish will be at church meetings that will last most of the day.”
I was itching to do something, but knew he was right.
He stood close, his head leaning to one side, as if considering our plight. “What time do you get off work tomorrow?”
“I can go in early and leave at four.”
“Okay, I’ll pick you up at your office then.”
“To do what?”
“You’ll see.” He lightly punched me on the arm before jogging back to the church.
If anyone had heard that conversation, he or she might think Timothy and I had set a date. Sadly, we had not. Guys over eight years old don’t punch girls they like on the arm. At least none of the guys I’d known before moving to Appleseed Creek.
I glanced back at the church. Timothy and Hannah were talking. Alone. Her two delightful buddies nowhere in view. My meeting with Timothy tomorrow was definitely not a date.
As I walked the rest of the way back to the house, my mind drifted away from thoughts of Timothy. Instead, I found myself watching for the green pickup around every corner. Thankfully, I never saw it.
Back at the house, I found Becky curled up on the couch, her legs tucked under her skirt. She held Gigabyte in her lap, and tears rolled down her pale cheeks.
“Becky, are you okay? Did something else happen?”
She nodded but couldn’t speak.
I sat across from her on the edge of my new coffee table. “What is it?”
When she didn’t answer, I stood and grabbed a box of tissues from the tiny half bath on the first floor. I handed her the box.
Finally, she calmed down enough to speak. “Hannah told me she heard my family wasn’t allowed to see me because of the accident.”
Wow, that Hannah is a real gem. I perched on the edge of the armchair. “How would she know that?”
“She’s friends with Esther Yoder.”
“Who is Esther Yoder?”
“An Amish girl. It doesn’t matter how she found out. I know it’s true. You saw what happened between Ruth and Anna yesterday. It must be bad. The Lambrights and my family are close friends.”
“That’s ridiculous.” I sat back on the coffee table. “We had dinner with your family that night and spent most of yesterday with your grandfather and the children.”
Gigabyte wiggled from her grasp and jumped to the top of the couch. He bumped his head against her shoulder.
“That was before. She said Deacon Sutter visited the farm and warned them not to talk to me.”
At least this much was true. Its truth made Hannah’s story plausible. “Why would she tell you that anyway?” I was beginning to dislike Hannah more by the second, and my feelings had nothing to do with Timothy’s possible affection for her.
She shook her head.
“Let’s call Timothy, and he can take us out to the farm to visit your family.”
She shook her head. “It’s Sunday. They’ll be at church. If I show up there, it will be even worse.”
“Your family loves you. I saw it, Becky. They are worried about you. Even if what Hannah says is true, they won’t let that come between you and your family, especially your younger siblings.”
“You don’t know what it’s like. They won’t let me be who I want to be.” Her blue eyes were watery pools. “I want to paint portraits. They don’t understand that. They say it’s wrong, that I’m breaking God’s law when I do it. I’m not. I’m trying to capture a little piece of the beauty He made. How can that be wrong?” She dissolved into tears again.
“Becky, look at me.”
She lifted her head.
“It’s not wrong. It’s not. Do you believe me?”
“I’ll try,” she whispered.
“Let’s call Timothy.” I hopped off the chair. “I have an idea of how to cheer you up.”
She wiped at her eyes. “What?”
“You’ll see.” I grinned. “You will love it.”
And seeing it for myself will put my mind at ease, too.