Plain Cover-Up

Dylan resisted the urge to touch Christina’s arm, to comfort her. He could tell by the rigid set of her shoulders that his attempts would only be rebuffed. He wanted to ask her so many questions, but right now, one question lingered foremost on his mind. “What next?”

She turned around. “Take Naomi home.”

“That’s fine. But you can’t go snooping around on your own. It’s not safe. Do you think, even if they’re kids, that they’ll take kindly to you turning them in for using drugs?”

Christina jerked her head back. A shadow lurked in the depths of her eyes. “Snooping around? Don’t make it sound like I’m some cartoon sleuth.”

Dylan held up his palms, realizing his protective—his controlling—nature had offended her. “I don’t want you to get hurt,” he said, softening his tone.

“I know. And I appreciate that.” She tilted her head. “What brought you out here tonight anyway?”

“I thought you might have changed your mind about that ride, with the rain and all.”

“I’m fortunate you were there. Thank you.” The corners of her mouth tipped up, softening the concern in her eyes. “But please don’t think I’m helpless. I can take care of myself.”

“We don’t know if this is related to the other assault where the girl was drugged.” He widened his eyes, trying to emphasize the seriousness of this situation, trying to dissuade Christina from asking too many questions on her own. “We’re talking about a real sociopath.” He paused a minute. “Who does that? Who drugs women at parties?” The criminal mind had always fascinated him, especially the moment a person took their first steps toward a life of crime. How did a person go from hanging out, drinking with friends, to drugging drinks? Was it premeditated? Random? Or was Naomi targeted?

Dylan missed working a case for the FBI. Teaching law and ethics didn’t give him the same adrenaline rush.

“Promise me you won’t go looking for trouble.” As soon as the words left his mouth he regretted them.

Christina planted her fists on her hips. “I’ve run this clinic for years. I’ve dealt with everything from runny noses to spaced-out patients trying to get me to write them a script for painkillers so they could get their next high.” Her eyes flashed anger. “I know how to handle myself. I know how to handle people. I know how to dial 9-1-1. If someone thinks he can drug girls at parties, he needs to be stopped.” She crossed her arms tightly over her chest. “I have every right to ask questions. And I’m careful. I know it can be a dangerous situation.”

Dylan dared to step forward and touch her chin with a hooked index finger. He waited for her to look up at him. When she did, he said emphatically, “Not. Your. Job.”

Christina jerked away. Her eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. “No, I suppose it’s my job to patch up the women after they’re attacked.”

* * *

Christina woke up in the middle of the night with a blinding headache. Fortunately it had dulled to a quiet roar by morning. She was grateful for that. Lying awake most of the night rehashing the events surrounding Naomi had contributed to her blah feelings. But as much as she’d like to, her work ethic wouldn’t allow her to stay in bed all day. Before Georgia, she could never call in late. Even now, she didn’t like to take advantage. But today she decided she had to. Fortunately, Georgia had already been scheduled at the clinic this morning and insisted she had everything covered.

By the time Christina climbed behind the wheel of her sedan and pulled out onto the main road, the midmorning sun was like needles to her eyes. She dropped the car’s sun visor and grabbed her sunglasses. Ahhh...

As Christina drove to the clinic, almost on autopilot, she rehashed, yet again, the events of last night. After Christina and Dylan had dropped Naomi at home, Christina had called her brother, a sheriff’s deputy. She hadn’t wanted to betray Naomi, so Christina left her name out of the conversation, but she needed to let Nick know that someone had potentially drugged a young Amish woman at a party. Law enforcement often watched trends. Maybe someone would be arrested for a similar incident.

Christina purposely omitted the part about almost getting run over in the parking lot. Her overprotective brother would have lost all perspective then. However, Christina had hoped that when her brother tracked down Ben Reist, he would shed new light on what had transpired last night. And he’d probably reveal Naomi’s name, but in good conscience, Christina couldn’t let the perpetrator go unchecked. Unfortunately, Nick had called her late last night to say that Ben had not come home.

Christina wasn’t sure how to feel about that. Maybe Ben wasn’t such a good guy after all.

When Christina reached the stop sign at the same intersection they had come upon last night, she found herself turning toward the barn where Naomi had most likely been drugged. She hoped that maybe she would see something in the daylight that she had missed in the dark. The thought of letting the person who drugged Naomi get away with it galled her.

You let someone get away with it. The familiar, mocking voice threaded its way through her brain, not helping her headache. Not one bit.

This is not about me, her rational voice countered. This is about Naomi.

Determined not to let her doubts pull her off course, Naomi drove toward the barn then wondered if she had gotten turned around. She wasn’t exactly the queen of directions. A car with an attached trailer sat in the driveway. It wasn’t until Christina drove past that she saw the unmistakable Sold sign and the barn behind it.

Her pulse raced in her ears and her mouth went dry.

Ignoring all the alarm bells in her head, Christina slowed to a near crawl. The front door was propped open, as if movers were bringing in boxes. Her heart raced as she heard Dylan’s stern warning not to do any investigating on her own. Then anger seeped in to replace her anxiousness. What right did he have to tell her what to do?

What harm could it do to knock on the door and welcome new neighbors to the small town? People still did that right? She had never done it, but people did. Indecision had her shifting her foot from the brake to the accelerator.

Go to work.

Go. Go. Go.

No. No. No.

Before she had a chance to overthink it, she glanced in the side mirror, the rearview mirror and over her shoulder, then made a sharp U-turn. She slowed and turned into the driveway and parked next to the trailer and climbed out.

As she approached the house, she promised herself she wouldn’t go inside, instead staying out in the bright sunlight. What could happen out here? She knew better, but she couldn’t stop herself. Naomi’s sweet face flashed in her mind. She had to do this for Naomi.

Christina hadn’t yet figured out exactly what she’d say when a frail woman appeared in the doorway, her head wrapped in colorful fabric. The woman came up short, surprise evident on her pale face. She hadn’t been expecting anyone.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.” Christina smiled, suddenly feeling foolish.

The woman’s skin seemed translucent. Dark shadows marred the skin under her eyes. The vibrancy of her blue eyes wasn’t diminished by the lack of lashes or brows. The pretty scarf hid what was no doubt a bald head. A hesitant smile graced the woman’s thin lips. “May I help you?”

Christina blinked rapidly. Not planning ahead hadn’t been a good idea. It was so unlike her. She had always planned ahead. College. Med School. Clinic in Apple Creek.

Check. Check. Check.

Yet here she was, gesturing awkwardly toward her car, partially hidden by the trailer. “I was driving by the house and noticed someone was moving in. I thought I’d stop by and welcome you to Apple Creek.” She really wished she had thought to stop by the diner to pick up one of Flo’s pies or something. Well, truth be told, she hadn’t expected to see cars in the driveway or to stop when she had.

“Thank you.” The woman’s reply came out more like a question.

“My name’s Christina Jennings. I’m a physician at the healthcare clinic in town.”

The woman nodded slowly, as if she was still trying to figure out what this woman was doing in her front yard. “Any relation to Nick Jennings?”

“Yes.” Christina smiled. “He’s my brother.”

“Small town, right? I knew him from way back when. Actually my husband knew him. My name’s Linda, by the way.”

Before Christina had a chance to ask her more questions, Linda descended the steps and crossed over to the trailer. The back doors were yawning open. The woman reached in and slid a box toward the edge of the trailer and stopped. “I’m sorry, but I don’t have time to chat. I have a lot of work to do.”

Christina glanced toward the house, wondering if this woman was alone. “Can I help?”

The woman blinked slowly. “No, thank you.” She leaned her hip on the back of the trailer, as if the short walk had drained her. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be rude. I’m tired and there’s so much to do. My son and his father are supposed to help me, but apparently there’s some work to be done on the mechanicals in the basement.” She lifted a thin shoulder. “Figures the first thing we realized this morning was there was no hot water.” She frowned. “We had some work done on the house for the past few months. Then we moved a lot of the big stuff in last week, but we had cleaning and the rest of the packing to finish before we could completely move in. It’s been a long road, but we’re almost there...” She drew in a deep breath, then exhaled. “And I’m tired.” She shook her head and gave a weary smile. “Wow, didn’t mean to unload on a complete stranger.”

Compassion warmed Christina’s heart. “Moving is a lot of work. I moved not long ago myself.” She remembered the cleaning and the sorting and the lifting, and she had been healthy. Christina couldn’t imagine the strain on top of a serious illness.

“Had you moved away from Apple Creek?”

“Oh, no, I just recently relocated a little farther out into the country. I like the space.” Christina didn’t mention that she grew up in the large house on the escarpment. Her parents’ sprawling estate was a landmark of sorts in town, an oddity. However, depending on how well Linda knew her brother, she might already know all that. “How about you? What brings you to Apple Creek?”

A shaky hand went to the woman’s head covering. “My son, Matty, and I lived only ten minutes away. We were in a rental. His father—” there was something about the way she said “his father” and not “my husband” that was very telling, or maybe Christina was reading too much into it “—recently got a job in Apple Creek.” She held out her palm. “So here we are. Looks like we’ll be here for a while.”

“I hope you enjoy your new home.” Christina shrugged off a vague sense that she used to know this woman.

Linda looked around, as if tuning into her surroundings for the first time. “All this space...this far out in the country. It’ll take some getting used to.” Her words had a wistful tone. “It seems so remote.”

Christina found her opening. “Well, there’s another reason I stopped by.”

“Oh?” Worry lines creased Linda’s eyes.

“Was anyone in your barn last night?”

“No.” Her answer seemed too abrupt. “Why do you ask?”

“Oh, it’s just...well...” Christina stammered. She never stammered. Her comment to Dylan last night that she wasn’t some cartoon-character sleuth was about to come back to haunt her. That’s exactly how she was acting. Unprepared. Foolish. Babbling. “I was driving by here and I thought I saw some activity by the barn.”

Linda frowned. “I’m not aware of anything, but I didn’t stay here. We arrived this morning.”

“Did your husband or son stay here?”

She hesitated for a moment and the color heightened in her cheeks. “No, we were too busy packing for the big move.” Linda stifled a yawn. “The move is wearing me out. I really need to get back to work.” Her tone reflected her frustration and embarrassment heated Christina’s cheeks. She was usually socially aware, but she didn’t want to leave so easily. She wanted to find out more about the barn party held here last night.

Linda pulled the box from the edge of the truck and its weight seemed to pull on her arms. “I better take this in. Nice meeting you.”

Christina wrapped her arms around the edge of the box, taking the brunt of the weight. “Please let me do that.”

“Thank you.” She released her grip on the box. “I need to learn how to accept help. I’m not as strong as I once was.”

“You’re welcome.” Perhaps God had placed Christina here for this one small kindness today, to help her get out of her own head and her own problems.

Linda hurried ahead of Christina, leading the way. Christina was grateful the box wasn’t that heavy. Once they stepped into the foyer, Linda pointed to another box. “Please, put it next to that one.” The smells of fresh paint and new carpeting permeated the air.

Christina pressed her lips into a thin line and nodded. She placed the box on top of another one. She didn’t envy the work ahead of this woman. “If you need anything, please feel free to contact me. I’m only a few minutes away in town. At the healthcare clinic, as I mentioned before.”

Linda waved her hand in dismissal, then her eyes brightened. “Thank you.” She lifted her fingers to the scarf wrapped around her head.

“If you need help with any of this...” Christina held her hand out to the boxes scattered around the foyer.

Linda shook her head. “There’s two able-bodied men who live here. They can get after these boxes.”

Christina laughed. “Well, I do run the clinic. So, if you need anything in that regard...”

“I’m getting the best possible treatment at Roswell Park in Buffalo. It’s a bit of a drive...but...”

“Oh, yes, Roswell is well respected. I guess I meant if you needed anything and didn’t want to drive all the way into Buffalo.” Christina was careful about how she worded things.

Deep voices could be heard floating up through the vents from the basement. Christina glanced around the cozy house that was still in need of a little TLC, but would surely make a comfortable home. She brushed at the dust on her pants. “Nice to meet you, Linda. Can I bring in a few more boxes before I go?”

Linda shook her head vigorously. “Oh, no... I’ve already imposed too much. Thank you for stopping by. I appreciate your introducing yourself to me.” The poor woman had probably thought a local gossip had alerted the town doctor that a woman with cancer had moved in, when that was not the case at all.

However, would the truth be any better? That Christina had stopped by to see if the occupants had held an underage drinking party on their property? But it seemed—like Cheryl had said—some teenagers had taken advantage of an empty house to party. More than likely, they wouldn’t be back now that the house was occupied.

“If you see anyone out back, perhaps hanging around your barn, can you call me?”

“Um...sure.” Linda took the business card with Christina’s contact information on it and turned it over in her hands. An unease rolled off Linda’s thin frame. “Do you think that’s something I need to be worried about?”

“It was probably teenagers.” Christina feared she had already said too much. She cleared her throat and rubbed her hands together. “I should go. Please call if you see anything...or if you need anything.”

“Who are you talking to?” A gruff male voice sounded from the back of the house, sending goose bumps racing across Christina’s skin.

Linda held out her arm and began to usher Christina toward the door. “Thanks again, Christina. I’ll definitely contact you if I need anything.”

Christina stepped outside, the door still propped open.

“Aren’t you going to introduce me to your visitor?” The man’s voice got closer. Christina spun around and froze in her tracks.

He had more lines at the corners of his eyes and less hair on his head, but he had the same darkness in his eyes and smug look on his thin lips.

Roger Everett. Her brother Nick’s good friend. A captain in the army. That’s how Linda knew her brother. Christina thought she had looked familiar, but her illness had made her gaunt.

Roger Everett. The name of the man she’d never forget.

The man who had attacked her several years ago.

The man she had been too afraid to accuse.

And now he was here, back in Apple Creek.

THREE

“Christina? Christina Jennings? Is that you?” Roger Everett’s lips curved into a smarmy grin—could only she see that?—yet his tone was that of a long-lost friend. Christina felt all the blood drain from her face and she sent up a silent prayer that she wouldn’t pass out right there.

Roger lifted his arms as if to embrace her and Christina held up her hands to block him. “Roger Everett.” The two words spilled out of her mouth. The smile plastered on her face—a smile for his wife’s benefit—hid the icy terror pumping through her veins.

“You remember Nick’s sister?” Linda asked, curiosity in her large eyes. “I don’t recall having met her before. When did you meet her?”

“Of course I met little Christina Jennings. Oh, wait, she’s Dr. Christina Jennings now.”

Linda squinted at her. “I don’t...”

“I’m not sure we ever met. Maybe only in passing,” Christina stammered.

“How is Nick?” Roger asked, carrying on this cheery charade.

“Good.” Christina’s heart was nearly rioting out of her chest, but she had to keep her cool. She’d had a lot of practice playing it cool under fire. She was a physician, after all. “You haven’t seen him lately?”

“Ah, ya know. Now and again. Everyone’s so busy, especially now that he has a little one. How is the baby?”

“Fine.” Christina didn’t want to give this man any more information about her family than necessary. She cleared her throat. “I didn’t mean to intrude. I saw the trailer...” Christina stared at him as the walls in the foyer swayed.

Since Christina had refused to accuse Roger of wrongdoing soon after he attacked her, she wasn’t about to start now. His wife was ill. Christina didn’t want to cause her any more stress. “I was...on my way out.” She stepped onto the porch and backed down the steps, holding the railing. She spun around and walked briskly toward her car.

“What brought you out here?” Roger called after her.

“I didn’t know who bought this house. I wanted to welcome the new family to the neighborhood.” She aimed her key fob at the car and the locks chirped. She struggled to stay composed as a familiar fear crawled up her spine and stiffened her back.

“Christina mentioned someone was using our barn for an underage party last night,” Linda said.

Anticipation made Christina’s skin tingle. A few feet from her car, she stopped and turned around. “I’m not sure of the exact location,” she backtracked, suddenly feeling like she had betrayed Naomi. The idea that Naomi was drugged on the property of the same man who had attacked Christina swelled like a tsunami in her brain, ready to sweep her under. The coincidence was too great.

“Why would you think that?” Roger asked, a hint of accusation in his tone.

“I may be mistaken.” Christina hated the indecisiveness in her tone. Leave. Just leave.

“Let’s be sure now. Let’s take a look. If there was a party, they probably left behind garbage. Beer cans, stuff like that, right?” Roger stepped off the porch and approached her. “Since you took the time to stop, it’d be a shame if we didn’t investigate. Or maybe we should call your brother, the deputy.” Roger had a way of speaking that was overtly condescending.

“I really should go. I’m running late.” Christina’s stomach sloshed with dread. She was back in college, trying to escape Roger’s grabby hands.

“No, no. I insist. I don’t want anyone using my property for parties.” He shook his head as if it were truly a great hardship. “Can you imagine the liability if someone got hurt on my property? Or after they left because they had been drinking? I don’t know if the bank has cashed the check on the first premium on my homeowner’s insurance.” Roger held out his hand, encouraging Christina to walk in front of him. The only reason Christina moved was because she didn’t want him to touch her.

Not again.

Christina glanced over her shoulder at Linda, willing her to walk with them. The last thing she wanted to do was go to the back of the property into a darkened barn with a man who had forced himself on her when she was in college and then accused her of not knowing what she really wanted.

Never mind that he had a son and a wife at home. Then. And now. Strange that Christina had never met Linda face-to-face until now. Roger probably had preferred it that way. Easier to lure unsuspecting women.

Nausea roiled in her stomach.

Once they were halfway across the yard and it was clear that Linda wasn’t going to follow them, Christina stopped, never turning her back to Roger. She didn’t trust him.

She should never have trusted him.

And she was done being polite. Especially when it came to her safety.

She pointed her finger at him. “I can’t believe you have the nerve to show your face in Apple Creek.”

Roger pressed his hand to his chest in a “who-me?” gesture and his expression took on an offended air. “Nerve?” He leaned close and she did her best not to show her fear. “Your guilt has gotten the best of you. You wanted me, but then your conscience couldn’t deal with the fact I had a wife and child.” His eyes twinkled with wicked delight. “I’m separated now.” He reached out to brush his fingers across her cheek and she backed away.

“Separated from Linda?”

“Yes. Does that make you feel better?”

“Why should it make me feel better? You attacked me.” Anger roared in her ears.

“You wanted it,” he bit out. “Don’t rewrite history.”

A steel rod of courage stiffened her back. “I was naive and didn’t report the incident. I’m no longer that same girl.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Roger spit out, his face suddenly flushed with rage.

“Someone barely escaped being assaulted on your property and I don’t think it’s a coincidence. Once a creep, always a creep.”

His cheeks puffed and his breath grew ragged. He jabbed his finger in her direction and she struggled not to cower. “You watch out, little lady, or I’ll press charges of slander.”

Christina glared right back at him. “The truth is a valid defense.”

“You got a lot of nerve coming out here...” Spittle flew from his lips.

“I’m done.” She gave one last look at the abandoned barn, a row of hay bales with targets on them lined up on one side. She was disappointed she wouldn’t be able to investigate further. Not now. Not with Roger. She turned to go back to her car, a surge of adrenaline mingled with dread and anger.

Roger’s arm snaked out and grabbed her wrist, and terror pressed on her lungs. Instinctively she yanked her arm, but Roger tightened his grip.

“How do you think the fine residents of Apple Creek would feel if they knew their respected town doctor had tried to break up a marriage? I believe home wrecker is the term.”

Christina glared at him, then down at his fingers encircling her wrist. Anger made her bolder than she had a right to be. Roger was probably twice her size. “Let. Me. Go.”

Roger let go of her wrist and stared at her, daring her to move. “Who do you think the members of this town are going to believe? The war hero who’s returned home to take care of his ailing estranged wife despite their differences? The former all-star high school baseball player? The newest member of the town council? Or the town doctor who grew up in a life of privilege—entitlement—and never knew the meaning of the word no?”

“No one who knows me would characterize me like that.”

Roger hiked a shoulder. “Want to try them? And tell me, why didn’t you tell your brother about us?”

“There was no us.” She gritted out the words.