Her Amish Protectors

“And making a sizable commission.”

“This is her business. I, for one, am a terrible saleswoman.”

Continuing to lurk out here made her a coward. Nadia girded herself and entered the store.

“Peggy,” she said with a smile that probably looked ghastly, but was the best she could do, “how nice to see you. Is there anything I can help you with?”

“Thank you, but no,” she said stiffly. “I just wanted a word with Colleen.” She turned and strode out the door.

Nadia waited until it closed behind her before she turned to Colleen. “I expected more people like her today.” She wrinkled her nose. “What am I saying? I’m nowhere near halfway through the day. There’s plenty of time.”

“You heard her?”

This smile felt genuine. “And you. Thank you for the defense.”

Colleen shook her head. “I don’t know what’s wrong with everyone. Peggy is a good example. She’s a nice woman. This wasn’t like her.”

“I’m the newcomer. The outsider.” Nadia had figured out that much Saturday. “Painting me evil is better than imagining someone you’ve known all your life stealing money that would have helped struggling people hold onto their land or rebuild.”

The other woman sniffed. “I’ve lived around here all my life, and I have no trouble imagining a few of my neighbors feeling justified in doing whatever they pleased.”

Nadia was laughing when the bell on the front door clanged. She turned to meet a pair of very dark eyes. Ben Slater wore his uniform today, a badge on his chest and his holstered gun at his hip. The visible weapon had the usual effect.

Her laugh had already died before she saw his stone face. “Chief Slater.”

He bent his head. “Ms. Markovic. Mrs. Hoefling.”

“I’m happy to stay a little longer, if you need to speak to Nadia,” Colleen offered.

“That would be helpful,” he said. “Perhaps we could go upstairs, Ms. Markovic?”

As chilled as she was by the expressionless way he was looking at her, Nadia didn’t see that she had any choice. She thanked Colleen and led the police chief through the side door. She sidled by the chair she’d left at the foot of the stairs, since she had every intention of bracing it in place again tonight—and every night, for the foreseeable future. She didn’t look back to see what Ben Slater thought about her primitive defense.

In the small living room, she faced him, chin high. She couldn’t make herself ask how she could help him. Hating her awareness of him, she just waited.

“I’m here to ask if you would permit a full search of this building without my getting a warrant first.”

“I feel sure you wouldn’t have any trouble getting one,” she said bitterly. “Given the local consensus on my guilt.”

Something flickered in his eyes, but he said only, “You must realize this is something I need to do.”

Nadia crossed her arms. “Shouldn’t you have done it Saturday? Over the weekend, I could have taken the money box anyplace.”

He didn’t say a word. His expression stayed impassive. She stared at him, understanding embarrassingly slow to come.

“You’ve had me watched. Did somebody follow me Saturday?”

“I’m doing my job.”

Air rushed out in what felt too much like a sob, but she clung to her dignity—and her anger and despair. “Do you know what it will do to my business once word gets out that the police suspect me to the point of searching my premises?”

“The sooner we can clear you,” he said woodenly, “the sooner your reputation will be restored.”

Her laugh was caustic. “What a nice, positive spin! I suppose practice makes perfect. I guess all that experience is why they made you chief.”

The only satisfaction he gave her was the tightening of his jaw muscles and some tension at the corners of his eyes.

“When do you plan to do this search?”

“If you agree, immediately.”

Nadia was so law-abiding she’d never so much as gotten a traffic ticket. The police officers who spoke to her after the shooting in Colorado had admired what they called her bravery. Now, seared by humiliation, she wanted to tell Ben Slater to get a warrant. I should have hired an attorney, she realized. She would, first thing tomorrow morning. But not anyone local.

Knowing her cheeks were burning red, she said, “Fine. Do it.”

He took a step closer. Lines deepened on his forehead and his voice came out rough. “This is not meant to suggest we believe you stole the money.”

“No? What other homes and businesses are you also searching?”

“You know there aren’t any yet.”

“I didn’t think so. If you’ll escort me downstairs, I’ll let Colleen go home. I’d just as soon no friends were here to watch.”

Nadia walked past him, pride all that held her together. She heard his tread on the stairs right behind her. Naturally. He couldn’t let her out of sight, in case she tried to move her stash.

Alone in the store, Colleen had been studying a quilt hung on the back wall. Her eyes widened. “Nadia?”

“I’m fine. Thank you for staying, but I think I’ll close up now.”

“I’m sure people will understand.” Colleen obviously didn’t, but she knew not to ask questions. “Call me anytime, okay?”

“I will.” Nadia gave her a swift hug and retreated before she could burst into tears. “Thank you.”

The other woman gathered her purse and bag full of fabric and thread, leaving after a last, worried look over her shoulder. Nadia hastened after her, flipping the sign to Closed and locking the door.

“Make your calls,” she said with frozen dignity, and went to the back room to sit in front of the quilting frame. With her hands shaking, she couldn’t so much as thread a needle, far less work on the half-finished Bear’s Paw quilt in the frame.

She heard Slater’s voice, coming from just outside the doorway. Which probably meant he hadn’t taken his eyes off her for a moment. “It’s a go,” he told someone. “I’ll wait here for you.”

CHAPTER FIVE

“IF YOU’LL ALLOW US to search your car, I see no reason you have to be present while we’re doing this,” Ben said.

The woman sitting in the back room didn’t even look at him. She’d gone deep inside; if he weren’t watching carefully, he wouldn’t have been able to tell she was even breathing. Horrified, he wondered if this was how she’d escaped a second bullet during the hours when she’d pretended to be dead.

“You wish,” she said coldly.

“What?”

“I’m staying.”

Ben almost stepped back, in case icicles had actually formed in the air. “Why?” he asked.

At last Nadia’s head turned, and her gaze was the furthest thing from icy. Her magnificent eyes burned. “I intend to document every bit of damage you and your men do.”

He might have taken offense, except he couldn’t deny damage did sometimes occur. He knew of instances where a search left a house trashed. He’d never allow that, but in an old building like this, boards might have to be pried up. In the shop, the bolts of fabric sat on some kind of wood base. They had to be hollow, which meant his team would need to look inside however they could. Display quilts would be lifted or removed from walls in case Nadia had added a safe or cubbyhole beneath one. Damn near every possession she had, upstairs and down, would be handled. He couldn’t help feeling some dismay when he looked at the hundreds of bolts of fabric. This space would be a nightmare to search. He’d remind people to wear gloves to avoid dirtying fabric that would then have to be cut off the bolt and discarded. And there were the quilts he now knew were each worth hundreds to thousands of dollars.

“My team will be here any minute.”

Nadia turned her head away and stared straight ahead, although he knew she wasn’t focused on anything. She couldn’t see out to the alley through the large window, because a filmy blind covered it.

For just a minute, he looked at her straight back, squared shoulders and the pale skin and delicate vertebrae on her nape, visible beneath a heavy mass of gleaming dark hair confined in some mysterious fashion. Her complete stillness disturbed him anew. He couldn’t see her forgiving him for this.

He had to do his job.

Teeth clenched, he left her, reaching the front of the store to see his sole crime scene investigator about to rap on the glass door. The couple officers Terry Uhrich had trained to assist him were only a few steps behind. Ben let them in.

“Ms. Markovic has chosen to stay,” he said in a low voice. He nodded toward the back. “She’s in there.”

Uhrich didn’t look happy. “You told her to keep out of the way?”

“I think she understands.” Her sense of dignity wouldn’t allow her to do anything so crude as to physically obstruct the searchers. But they would, one and all, end up ashamed of themselves for intruding so unforgivably. Ben remembered her horror at the idea of a man studying her sleeping, nearly nude body, and knew what he was doing to her was worse. Did he really believe he was doing what he had to? Or was that simplistic crap, justifying the fact that his investigation had gone absolutely nowhere? Right this minute, he was at war with himself.

They started with her car, parked in the alley, in case she changed her mind and decided to flee. Ben, of course, remained inside with her. Terry decided then to do the apartment, undoubtedly hoping Nadia would take refuge in it once they were done.

She followed the three men upstairs, Ben trailing behind, and stood in the middle of the living room with her arms crossed, glaring at each man in turn as they searched her kitchen cupboards, refrigerator and freezer and antique buffet holding dishes. The two officers pulled out the refrigerator; one crawled beneath her table while the other lifted each chair to peer beneath the seat. Cushions were removed from the sofa and armchair, and both were turned over in case wads of money were stuffed between the springs.

Ben was tempted to help, just to speed up the process, but his role as lead detective was to make sure the search was thorough, clean and fell within legal parameters. Anyway, what was he going to do? Sift through her lingerie? Study the contents of her medicine cabinet and bathroom vanity? All he’d do was make any future conversations with her even more difficult. Instead, he had to watch as she lost every shred of privacy and yet clung to both dignity and fury.

Mercifully, his men managed to finish up here without doing any damage. They even, more or less, put everything back in place. The relative care they took didn’t make Ben feel any better. His gut roiled as they continued with the necessary task.

The downstairs took hours. Just the peculiar closet beneath the stairs consumed an inordinate amount of time. It was jammed with plastic totes, all labeled, but each had to be opened, the contents examined. Nadia had installed cupboards and open shelves in the back room for some storage, but she needed most of the space for the quilt frame and to hold classes, so she had to live with the inconvenience of the oddly shaped closet. It must be a pain in the butt when she needed to find something that wasn’t right in front.

Once they moved on to the store proper, Ben stepped into the hall where he could see the proceedings and Nadia while also making phone calls and checking email. He learned exactly how much money she had in checking and savings accounts, as well as an investment account. Given her mortgage, he doubted she had enough put away to allow her to hold out six months if sales in her store tanked. Not at all to his surprise, there had been no suspect deposits.

Suddenly, she exclaimed in anger and anguish, “You can’t put those on the floor! Do you know the work that went into them?”

Ben hustled into the store to see Officer Ackley straightening with an armful of quilts, expression chagrined. “But...we have to take them down, ma’am.”

“Lay them carefully over a row of fabric, or hand them to me and I’ll find a place to put them temporarily. This one was made by Ruth Graber. Do you know her?”

Ben knew of her. The elderly Amish woman had lost her husband last fall. As it happened, the county sheriff, Daniel Byler, had married Ruth’s granddaughter Rebecca in November. Who knew how many more quilts she’d make? Ben had also seen the tiny price tag pinned to the one Officer Ackley had been about to drop onto the floor. $2,800. He cringed to imagine a dirty footprint in the middle of an intricately hand-quilted white block.

He stepped forward to take the quilt from Ackley, making a point of twitching the tiny price tag into view. The officer’s eyes widened.

Watching, Terry Uhrich shook his head and went back to inspecting walls.

Ben turned to find Nadia had resumed her rigid stance. Unfortunately, she’d crossed her arms, plumping her breasts above them. He had trouble dragging his gaze from the sight.

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