Lamb to the Slaughter (Serenity's Plain Secrets Book 1) Read online

  The fact that Todd stopped talking to Serenity’s family to answer his phone attracted my attention and I stepped in closer to hear what he said.

  “Damn, that’s a fucking relief—let me talk to her,” Todd said into the phone. Everyone in the little group stood up straighter and breathed out in relief at once, while Todd continued to hold the phone close to his ear, his free fingers pressed tightly into his other ear to block out the loud noises around him.

  “Shit, you’ve got to be kidding me.” Todd shook his head and gave us all an agitated frown before he said, “All right. We’ll be there as quick as we can. Just hang tight for now—and don’t go playing the hero, Will. Leave that to the professionals.”

  At the same time he slipped the phone into his pocket, Bobby slid into the gathering wearing a worried frown beneath his mustache. The coroner didn’t get a chance to say anything. Todd held his hand up to silence the questions that were about to erupt from Serenity’s sister.

  “That was Will. He’s been with Serenity part of the evening, but now he’s on his own. She took it upon herself to investigate some secret Amish business and ended up out of cell range—that’s why she didn’t call me,” Todd was telling me the last part, but then he turned to Laura, and said, “I’m going out to the Amish community where I’ll meet up with Will, and then we’ll get with Serenity. Under the circumstances, Laura,” Todd nodded towards the burning boards that were once Serenity’s home, “you should head back to your house and prepare the guest room. Serenity’s going to need a place to stay for a while.”

  Laura nodded, and moved away slowly with her husband and daughter to the Yukon parked along the curb. Once they were out of ear shot, I faced Todd, who was talking quietly to Bobby. The old man nodded and turned back to the firemen who finally seemed to have the flames under control.

  The smell of wet smoke fanned out in the air as Todd motioned for me to follow him, saying, “Don’t worry, Daniel. I definitely want you along for this ride. Who the hell knows what kind of shit your kin have stirred up this time.”

  37

  SERENITY

  Early Morning, November 19th

  Before I opened my eyes, I listened to the muffled voices. The words were indistinct at first, but after some time, the sounds became clear. Yes, Tony was still there. His voice boomed compared to the others, and he spoke in English. The Amish were using their own language, except to speak with him, making the conversation still jumbled, but I did get the main gist. They were trying to figure out what to do with me.

  I continued to play dead, so to speak, the hard pounding on the side of my head making me feel closer to the word than I wanted to be. My face was pressed against the dirt, so not only could I smell the rankness, I could also taste it. Even with the discomfort, I barely moved a muscle, only opening one eye to take a peek.

  Most of the men were standing to the side quietly observing the scene, while the bishop, Mo, James Hooley and Tony stood separately, talking in raised voices. Never before had I wished so deeply that I could understand another language as I did at that moment.

  The fact that I’d actually been struck by something told me in no uncertain terms that these people were in fact dangerous. They would go to any length to protect their own from a perceived threat. Like I’d been told several times, the Amish take care of their own.

  I closed my eyes again, feeling very tired. This was one of those times when I wished I had a different job. The last incident that had made me feel the same way flooded back to me. For a change, I didn’t block the memory, instead embracing the vision of the darkened street.

  Swallowing a gulp of dry air in my throat, I pushed the hood aside. The ability to breathe seemed to leave my body as I stared at the girl lying on the wet pavement. Now that the hood was pushed back, her brightly dyed red hair spilled around her. Catching my attention was the shiny stud on the side of her nose glinting from its own light. Finally, I settled my gaze onto the brown eyes that stared at a place above my head.

  Everything had happened in less than a minute, but the memory always dragged on, taking an eternity for the sound of Ryan’s voice behind me to radio in the ambulance, and for the girl to die.

  I carefully took the 9 mm from her fingers with my gloved hand. The bullet from my own gun had hit her in the chest, and the blood was soaking through the t-shirt she wore, beginning to obscure the image of an angel with spread wings.

  The sudden cough and gurgle brought me closer to her face. Her eyes focused on me and I saw fear in them.

  “Shhh, don’t try to speak now. The ambulance is on its way. You’re going to be fine…”

  I’d lied easily. What else could I have done? I knew that within minutes the girl would be dead, and there was nothing I or anyone else could do about it.

  Later I found out that her name was Emily, and she was only sixteen years old. She’d entered the elderly couple’s home with her jacked-up, twenty-something year old boyfriend, to steal whatever they could get their hands on to pay for their next fix. She probably hadn’t wanted the old man to die, but it happened just the same. The forensics proved that Emily’s gun hadn’t fired the killing shot, but the fact that she’d had the revolver in her hand when Ryan and I’d confronted her, sealed her death sentence.

  Yep, the choices a person made could drastically alter their future, or even end it.

  I could still feel the heaviness of the mother’s arms around me as she told me that she forgave me for killing her daughter. She’d understood why I did it, as did everyone else. I’d only missed an afternoon of work for the mandatory counseling session with the shrink.

  In my mind, absolution didn’t come easily though. The girl’s frantic eyes still haunted me to this day. Emily knew she was about to die and she wasn’t ready for it. All the regret shined brightly from the brown depths before her eyelids closed.

  As my head pressed against the hard dirt, I wondered if poor Naomi knew that she was dying. Did she regret her decisions? Somehow, I felt that she’d left the world not regretting a damn thing.

  I realized that I must be suffering from, at the very least, a major concussion, when a wave of nausea gripped me. I had no choice but to raise my head to vomit onto the ground. I hated drawing attention to myself, and dammit, I really hated throwing up under any circumstance, but it was completely unavoidable. Now, as I wiped my mouth with the back of my dirty hand, I watched in double vision as Tony stomped towards me, his boot catching my thigh with a hard thump.

  “That’s enough, Tony,” the bishop said. His voice boomed in the moonlit darkness of the barn.

  “I already told you all—there won’t be any negotiating with a by-the-book paper pusher, like her.” Tony’s finger was pointed at me and I wished that his two fluttering bodies would fuse together. The wave of sickness rolled through me again. I swallowed it down and struggled into a sitting position. Once I was upright, my stomach quieted and although, far from clear, my vision improved.

  Mo walked toward me. He bent down inches from my face and searched my eyes. “She needs medical assistance, Aaron. If we do not make a decision soon, one might be forced upon us—one that we will regret later.”

  I licked my lips, and forced the words out. “Mo, please help me. I only wanted to find out what happened to Naomi—bring her justice. That’s all.”

  Mo smiled weakly, and said, “My child, even after all of this,” He motioned with a small gesture of his hands, “you still don’t understand, do you?”

  I shook my head, feeling a shimmer of hope as my hand brushed the inside of my jacket, and my holster. I can’t say that I was surprised to find it empty—a glance at Tony’s smirking face told me he had my gun. When he pulled it out from its snug location at his belt and waved it in the air, I closed my eyes, reassessing my chance of survival.

  There was still Will. He should have been able to make the call to Todd by now. If I could just stall the lunatics a little while longer, I might see the light of day. Glancing at T
ony’s sadistic face, I knew that he was the one that put the biggest kink in that plan. The man wanted nothing more than to kill me. And the really shitty thing about that fact was that he’d probably get away with it too.

  “There’s no need to taunt her. Please stand aside while I talk to the sheriff,” Bishop Esch said in a ridiculously reasonable voice considering the situation.

  He stood above me, not bothering to kneel the way Mo had done. I pushed myself onto wobbly legs. Mo’s hand did shoot out, I’ll give him credit, but I ignored it, using the little strength I could summon from my weak body to stand.

  The bishop was a tall man, so I still had to look up, but at least I didn’t have to crane my neck like an idiot. And, I was hoping, from a psychological view point, that the healthier I looked, the more difficult it would be for the Amish men to order me finished off. Again, I couldn’t help but wonder, how in the hell Tony Manning went from ex-sheriff of Blood Rock to hired assassin for the supposed pacifist Amish.

  “As you’ve already seen, Ms. Adams, our people choose to live a much different existence than the rest of the world. We have lived by a strict set of customs and traditions for hundreds of years. Amazing everyone who has witnessed our culture, we have not only survived, but prospered.

  “Occasionally though, we are put into situations where outside forces try to press their authority onto our people. Naomi Beiler is a prime example of what I mean.” He took an agitated breath before continuing. “She was one of our own. Her predicament caused no pain or trouble for anyone outside of our community—therefore, the matter should have been left for us to deal with.”

  “Oh, that’s where you’re dead wrong, Bishop. Will Johnson is my nephew.” Seeing his eyes widen in surprise was priceless, but I only savored it for a second before I plunged on. “And he loved Naomi Beiler. Her death devastated him—and he mourned for her a hell of a lot more than her own family or her people did.”

  Bishop Esch recovered quickly and said, “It was nothing but a teenage infatuation that would have crumbled within months, if not weeks, of that girl living in the cold, hard world outside of her birth community.”

  I stared at the bishop in disbelief, realizing that nothing I said would penetrate his thick skull. Coming to that frustrating conclusion, I said, “If you don’t mind me asking then, what would you and your people have done about figuring out who shot Naomi, and bringing them to justice?”

  The bishop laughed, the sound filling the stale air in the large, open space of the old barn like a bugle blast. Others in the crowd chuckled in the background.

  “Some of us, those gathered here tonight, have known who shot the girl from nearly the beginning…and tonight we were exacting the punishment,” Bishop Esch said as his eyes locked on mine, daring me to judge him.

  “So you lied to me then?” My voice trembled as the pieces of the puzzle came together. Sure, there were still some questions that needed answering, but I was beginning to understand.

  “The heavenly Father is the only authority that holds sway over me. Any information that I kept from you or your people was none of your concern,” he said with the surety of a mad man.

  I looked around at the other men gathered. Their backs were straight and their eyes stared with unflinching agreement with their leader. Mo had the expression of a man that would never change his mind. Even if the truth slapped him in the face, he wouldn’t accept it.

  The heavy feeling of disgust rolled over me and made me fearless. Thoughts of the beautiful Naomi having to put up with this shit for eighteen years settled over me for a long minute while I again searched the faces of the people living within the boundaries of my county. People who were more alien to me than any foreigner living on the other side of the world.

  The most tragic part of all was that Naomi almost escaped—almost.

  I took a deep breath, and said, “As long as your ass is settled in my jurisdiction, everything that goes on in the Amish community is my business.”

  The kick at my legs sent my feet out from beneath me, and once again I was lying in the dirt. Now, joining the throbbing of the side of my head was an ache in the back of my calf.

  I glared up at Tony, who roared, “Shut the fuck up. Can’t you see that you’re on the losing end?”

  The sound of a pump action shot gun being chambered brought all our heads shooting towards the dark shadows of the corner of the barn. The shick, shick sent an automatic shiver through me, and all the men tensed at once. Well, except for Tony. He pulled his own Colt .45 handgun and pointed it towards the inky blackness.

  Funny thing was that whoever had pumped the gun could see us, but we couldn’t see him. If my head wasn’t hurting so damn bad, I would have been giddy with joy.

  “Who’s there, hiding as a coward—show us who you are!” demanded the bishop.

  The laughing that emitted from the gloomy corner revved my heart to full tilt. I knew that voice.

  “I don’t’ think so. At least, not until your body guard drops his weapon.”

  “Fuck you,” Tony said before he let several rounds fly from his gun, the blasts echoing through the barn like mini explosions.

  Everyone hit the ground just as I was curling into a fetal position. Everyone except for the bishop—he stood resolutely, either thinking he was too damned good for the dusty floor or believing that God would protect him.

  I wasn’t sure whether Tony attempted to dive for cover or not, because the shot gun blasts met their mark perfectly, and he crumpled to the floor like a rag doll. He lay only a few feet from me, his eyes glazing over.

  And, not surprisingly, his lips were twisted in a sick smirk.

  38

  DANIEL

  November 19th

  The sight of Serenity on the ground left my heart colder than seeing the man I’d shot. Rushing over the packed dirt of the barn floor, I dropped beside her and pressed my hands to her face. Todd’s voice behind me seemed distant, even though I knew he was right on my heels.

  “Dammit, you weren’t supposed to shoot him,” he said, kneeling beside me. “Serenity can you hear me?” Todd asked, not looking at her at all, instead leveling his full attention on the group of Amish men who had moved in closer. The fact that the crowd hadn’t run for their buggies during the chaos seemed to be really freaking the deputy sheriff out, if the way he was aiming his revolver in turns at the Amish was any indication.

  Serenity’s murmur made me look down. I put my hands under her arms and helped her into a sitting position. She shook her head once and said with a stronger voice than I was expecting, “Good shot, Daniel. Don’t go letting Todd make you feel guilty. The prick deserved it.”

  I pulled her softly against my chest as the warmth of relief began to spread within me. Pressing my face into her hair, I breathed in the lovely vanilla scent, almost forgetting that we were in an abandoned barn surrounded by a group of unstable Amish men—and that I’d just shot a man.

  The groan coming from Tony’s body got Todd moving to his side. He said, “Damn, he’s still alive.”

  “I was aiming for his legs,” I said, still holding Serenity snugly against me, although now, she was attempting to free herself and see Tony for herself.

  “Maybe you should get into law enforcement, Daniel. Good thinking,” Todd said, before the static sound hit the air from his radio that he was beginning to make a call from.

  “Wait! Stop, Todd.” Serenity pushed away from me and stood up.

  “What the hell are you talking about? We need to call this in pronto. This jerk needs an ambulance…” He lowered his voice, “and we could use some backup here.”

  “Apply first aid. That’s an order, Todd. These people have a few answers to give me before we bring the outside world in.” She limped over to Tony’s groaning body and using her boot, pushed him enough to reach down and free the gun from his pants.

  To my amazement, she pointed the gun at the Amish men, singling out Aaron as she approached them. It was then that I cau
ght my father’s eyes, and what I saw there puzzled me. He looked at me with concern, reminding me of the time when I was twelve and I’d fallen from the hay wagon after one of the older boys had thrown a bale forcefully at me. I was knocked unconscious for a moment or two, and when I opened my eyes, father was there, staring at me with the same expression he held now. The look surprised me way more than the fact that my father was here in the first place.

  “Is Tony Manning your friend, bishop?” Serenity asked bluntly with the revolver poised at Aaron’s face.

  The whole scene was unreal. I had difficulty absorbing it all. Glancing at Todd, I saw that he was doing what Serenity had instructed, creating a tourniquet from the sleeve of Tony’s shirt. The injured man knew that Todd was attempting to help him and he was more than willing to be respectful now that his life was in jeopardy.

  Aaron’s voice brought me back to him and Serenity and their showdown in the center of the barn. The area was dimly lit by the moonlight shining through the gaps in the boards, but her blond hair and his white beard stood out clearly in the darkness.

  As Aaron glanced at Tony, he said, “Yes, he is a friend—one of the few English men that I would give the name to.”

  “Well, I can tell you that if your friend doesn’t get medical attention soon, he’s going to bleed out. But we’re not taking him anywhere until you explain a few things to me.”