Joel stood alone under a hanging basket. A silver sedan sat parked on the other side of an ambulance.
I pointed to the parking lot. “Is that your car?”
He nodded.
“Did you follow me home from the Mennonite church Saturday night?”
He nodded again.
I dug a hand into my hip. “Why?”
“I told you. I want to know why you fired me.”
“You weren’t fired. You were laid off.”
“As if that made it any easier.” The usual bitterness in his tone had ebbed somewhat.
“I’m sorry, Joel. I made the best decision I could for the department.”
He shook his head. His shoulders slumped.
What he’d done changed him. Much of the anger he’d harbored against me had dissipated. Heroics can do that for a person. Despite all of his failings, Joel was a hero. The fact was difficult for me to accept, but it may have been even more difficult for Joel.
I swallowed. “Thank you. You saved Becky and me.”
He hung his head. “I did what had to be done.” Then he wandered away.
Chief Rose sauntered up to me with her hands on her hips. “That looked awkward.”
I grimaced.
“See, I told you, you were the key in this case.”
I wasn’t so sure about that. “What does this mean for your department, Chief?”
“Crime does pay.” A sly smile spread across her face.
Timothy’s truck threw gravel in all directions as he swerved around a police cruiser.
Chief Rose shook her head. “Apparently none of the Troyers know how to drive.”
He jumped out of his truck. Becky, who stood with Cookie and Scotch, broke away from the EMT taking her blood pressure and ran into her brother’s arms. He hugged her to him while scanning the crowd.
Chief Rose nudged me. “I think he’s searching for someone.”
Timothy’s eyes locked on mine. He said something to his sister, and she let him go. I stepped away from the police chief and met him under the shade of the oak tree. “Chloe, are you all right?”
I ran my hands up and down my bare arms. “I’m fine.”
Timothy’s chest moved up and down as if he couldn’t catch his breath. His big blue eyes searched my face. “When Greta called me, I got here as fast as I could. I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”
I scanned the crowd. The police chief was speaking to a protesting Curt. Brock had already been taken to the hospital in Mount Vernon.
Mathews sat in the back of a cruiser not speaking to anyone. He stared straight ahead. His high-priced lawyer had taught him well.
Joel stood in the middle of a group of reporters, relating how he saved the day—which he had.
“Chief Rose called you?”
He nodded.
I bobbed my head, my eyes darting around. “I’m glad you’re here. Becky needed you.”
He winced. “Becky? What about you?”
I forced a smile. “I did too. You’ve been a good friend.”
Timothy flinched. “A good friend?”
I stopped. “Of course. I could have never gotten through this without you. I’ve seen what a wonderful brother you are to Becky and the children. You’re like the brother I never had.”
His brow furrowed. “I’m not your brother.”
I licked my lips, unable to meet his gaze. “I know that. You’re like a brother to me.”
He lifted my chin, the calluses on his fingers brushing my skin. “No, I’m not. I don’t want you to think of me as your brother. I care about you.”
“I care about you too.”
His face flamed red. “I don’t care about you like I care about my sisters.” He took my small and freckled hand between his two calloused ones.
“Oh.” The light was dawning. A smile began to form on my lips, but just as quickly it faded. “What about Hannah?”
“Hannah?”
“Isn’t she—aren’t you together?”
He barked a laugh. “She wishes.”
“You are promised to her,” I said.
“We dated. It was nothing serious, at least not for me. Hannah might disagree. I told her many times that it’s over between us.” He frowned. “I dated her because I knew it was what her father wanted. It’s been over for a long time though.”
“I can guarantee she doesn’t think it’s over. She pretty much told me the two of you were getting married.”
He rocked back on his heels. “I’m not going to marry Hannah.”
Inside of me, a little voice cried out with joy.