Plain Pursuit

Keenly aware of the camera trained on her, she inhaled deeply. Daniel wouldn’t have risked his life by drinking before flying. None of this made sense. She wished she could rewind time. If only she had kept in touch with her brother.

Anna walked down the porch steps and stared straight into the camera. “My brother, Daniel Quinn, died in the plane crash. If anyone knows—” she started over “—if anyone knew my brother, please contact me.” After she rattled off the digits of her cell phone number, Eli placed his firm hand on her shoulder. If his touch was meant to be a warning, it came too late.

An internal voice scolded her for announcing her cell phone number on a newscast, but right now she didn’t care. She had nothing to lose. Worse case, she’d get a new cell phone number after things calmed down. “I want to talk to anyone who saw my brother early yesterday morning or the night before his flight. Or anyone who had ties to my brother while he was in Apple Creek.”

She was desperate to shed some light on his frame of mind. Had he gone off the deep end with his conspiracy theories? Twin ribbons of shame and grief twisted around her heart. Daniel had always looked out for her. He even saved her life when she was twelve years old. Tears burned the backs of her eyes. It was too late for her big brother, but she owed him this much—to clear his name in death.

“Was it a scheduled flight?” The woman’s hawkish eyes shifted from hers to Eli’s and back.

This time Eli answered. “Neither Miss Quinn nor I have any information regarding the investigation. You’ll have to talk to the sheriff.” He lifted his chin. “Now, if you’ll please respect the privacy of the family who lives here, we’d appreciate it.”

The reporter lowered her microphone and offered her business card to Anna. “If you’d like to do a full interview, please call me.” She pursed her lips. “I’m sorry about your loss.”

“Thank you.” A dark part of Anna’s heart suspected the reporter took pleasure in other people’s misfortune. It made for good news.

Eli’s solid hand rested on her shoulder. She resisted the urge to lean into him for support. After the news crew crossed the road and started filming the crash site, she looked up at him. “Do you think I made a stupid mistake?”

“Sometimes you have to go with your gut.”

A mirthless laugh escaped Anna’s lips. “You don’t know me very well. I’m not one to shoot from the hip.”

Seeming to regard her carefully, he rubbed a hand across his whiskered chin. “Will getting answers help you sleep better at night? Bring you peace?”

She searched his brown eyes, feeling an unexpected connection as if he understood her pain. “I hope so,” she whispered.

Eli brushed a knuckle across the back of her hand, the motion so quick she thought she imagined it. “You’re not convinced?”

Anna shrugged. She turned and climbed the steps, the wood slats of the porch creaking under her weight. Katie Mae appeared in the side yard and placed a wicker basket on the grass. Bending at the waist, she lifted a wet dress and pinned it to the clothesline. Anna stood transfixed as Eli’s younger sister completed the chore. Three rows of garments in subtle hues of gray, bright blue, dark blue and lavender weighed down the lines. Something about the simplicity of the chore, the repetitiveness of it, appealed to Anna. Could peace be found in the simple things?

Anna swept a strand of hair out of her eyes. Nothing about her life had ever been simple.

* * *

After the commotion outside the Miller’s farmhouse, Eli drove Anna to her brother’s place. On the drive over, she finally got the nerve to ask the question that had been haunting her since the reporter first brought it up. “You met my brother. He sometimes gets crazy ideas, but he didn’t seem unstable, did he? Had he been drinking?” Her voice cracked over the last word. Their father had been an abusive alcoholic.

Eli ran the palm of his hand across the top of the steering wheel, never taking his eyes off the road. “I can’t say he was drinking, but he was agitated. He was worried about you.”

“It doesn’t make sense. Does any of this have to do with your cold case?” Anna was afraid of his answer. No way had her brother been involved with a child’s disappearance. But she had to ask.

Eli cut her a sideways glance. “I don’t know. He was reluctant to tell me what he knew, if anything. He seemed afraid.” She sensed Eli wasn’t telling her the entire truth.

The car came to a stop at the intersection. As frustration welled inside her, a sign on the lawn of one of the churches at the corner came into focus. No Jesus, No Peace. Know Jesus, Know Peace. Slipping her hands between her knees and straightening her arms, she wondered why she couldn’t instinctively shut off her worries and rely on God. Only her faith could get her through this.

Curiosity nudged her. “Growing up in an Amish community, faith was a big part of it, right?” The entire concept fascinated her. “Do you still go to church?”

Anna studied Eli’s profile. A muscle worked in his jaw. He gave her a measured stare. “What is the old saying? Don’t discuss religion and politics.”

“I didn’t mean to offend you.”

He stared out the windshield. The silence between them grew thick with tension. Obviously she had touched on a sore subject. About a half mile past the center of town, they turned into the driveway of a well-maintained home. Pots of yellow and purple mums lined the porch steps. Large windows overlooked the front yard.

Eli navigated the driveway until he reached the back of the house. He jerked his chin toward a three-car garage and a set of steps hugging one side of the structure. The furthest bay was open. “Your brother rented the garage apartment.” He parked and climbed out. Anna joined him around the front of the vehicle.

A man about her brother’s age stepped out of the open garage, wiping his hands on a dirty rag. Something flashed in his eyes when he saw Anna. His unshaven face and buzz cut made her think of her brother’s appearance when he got off the plane six months ago from his service in the Middle East. The man wore oil-stained jeans and a ripped T-shirt. It appeared they had pulled him away from his work.

“You must be Daniel’s sister,” he said, his voice gruff. “I’d see the resemblance even if Eli hadn’t contacted me to tell me you were on your way.” He stuffed the rag in his back pocket. “Sorry. That was horrible what happened to him. I hear my cousin Tiffany’s putting up a good fight, though.”

Anna’s eyelids fluttered. “Oh, I’m sorry. Tiffany is your cousin?”

The man gave her a solemn nod.

“Did you know my brother well?” she asked, eager to get any information she could.

He jerked his thumb toward the steps. “Daniel rented out the garage apartment. He was busy on some photography project.” He narrowed his gaze. “I think he was putting photographs together for a book or something. People seem to be fixated on the Amish.” He hooked one thumb through his belt loop. “It’s beyond me.”

“Did he tell you about his project?” Anna asked. Her gaze drifted to Eli, who stood off to the side with his hands loosely crossed over his broad chest.

“Yeah, he seemed eager to wrap up the project and move on all of a sudden. I figured he needed to finish the job to get paid.” He rolled his eyes. “There’s not much to do in this town.”

“Do you have the key?” Eli asked. “Anna would like to see her brother’s apartment.”

The man reached into his pocket and pulled out a ring filled with keys. “Sure, man.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t catch your name,” Anna said as they moved toward the stairs leading to the second-story apartment.

“Tom Hanson.”

Something jogged in her memory. “Did you know my brother from when he went to college in the area?” Something about the way he was staring at her—almost through her—unnerved her.

“A little bit. He and my cousin Chase, Tiffany’s brother, were tight.” Jangling the keys, he scrunched up his face, thinking. “They were in the same fraternity at Genwego. I wasn’t the college type. I went to trade school. I do pretty good as a handyman and jack-of-all-trades for my aunt and uncle.”

“Tiffany Christopher’s parents?”

Tom nodded. “My mom and Aunt Beth are sisters. My mom married some loser and moved up to Buffalo a bunch of years ago. Aunt Beth and Uncle Richard have always looked out for me.”

Anna glanced at the main house, her chest growing tight. “Is this...their house?” She should have thought of that the minute he introduced himself as Tiffany’s cousin. She imagined the back door swinging open and Mrs. Christopher emerging, fury in her dark eyes.

Eli smiled gently and mouthed the words, It’s okay.

“Doctor Richard Christopher, Senior, lives here. He’s like a grandfather to me. I hang around in case he needs anything.” He held up his hands. “Ah, don’t worry. I’m the black sheep of the family. It’s my Uncle Richard that runs this town. I’m just another one of their servants.” He smirked. “Long story.” He shrugged. “Actually, I don’t mind. It’s steady work. Good pay. Not much else going on jobwise in the booming metropolis of Apple Creek.” Tom separated a key from the ring. “Here.”

Eli took it from him. “We’ll keep this. I’ll return it in a few days after Anna goes through her brother’s things.”

Anna’s attention shifted to the stairwell leading to her brother’s apartment and she suddenly felt light-headed. Eli flashed her a concerned glance and she forced a smile.

“I think I should hold on to that key.” A deep line marred Tom’s forehead.

“It’s fine,” Eli assured him. “It’s the beginning of the month. Daniel’s paid up to the end, right? I’ll hold on to the key.”

“I guess so.” Tom stuffed the key ring back into his pocket.

The wood creaked under their weight as they climbed the steps. At the top landing, Eli had reached out to insert the key into the lock when the door swung inward. Anna’s heart plummeted. Eli held out his arm to stop her forward momentum. “Wait here.”

She covered her mouth to stifle her shock. Papers littered the floor. A lamp was upended. Couch cushions had been tossed across the small space. Anna’s shoulder hit the doorframe, her knees having gone weak, and she fell to the floor.

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