Cold Case, Hot Accomplice Read online

  They walked through a neat, functional living room and into the kitchen, where two younger women worked side by side making bread on a long table.

  Both of them were dressed in traditional fashion, in long dresses and white aprons with their hair braided and coiled in a bun covered with a small white cap.

  “Daughters-in-law, we have guests. Some refreshments for Detective Kincaid and his friend, Ms. Marcoli,” Tom said.

  “Thank you, but that isn’t necessary,” Steve replied. “Unfortunately I’m here on some business.”

  Tom glanced toward the two women. “Then let’s go take a walk,” he said. He led them out a kitchen door, where a handful of little girls around the age of four were playing with a puppy.

  “Do you mind if I go see the children?” Roxy asked, obviously sensing that it would be better if the two men talked alone.

  Tom nodded. “They are my sons’ children.”

  As Roxy left them, Tom turned to Steve with a frown. “Have one of us offended somebody in town?”

  “No, nothing like that,” Steve said hurriedly. “We have always had open communication and a spirit of support among our people. But there have been two crimes that I’m investigating that require I speak to several people here.”

  “And those people would be?”

  “Isaaic Zooker and William King and his son, Jason.”

  “And the crimes you are investigating?”

  “A potential kidnapping of one woman and an attempted murder of another.”

  Tom shook his head. “You won’t find the guilty party here.”

  “In my heart I know that’s true, but as a detective investigating the cases, I can’t exclude your community in my questioning.”

  “Understood. I will walk with you to the Kings’. They are our nearest neighbor.”

  Steve walked over to where Roxy had the four girls playing ring-around-the-rosy with the puppy yipping with excitement in the center, and as he heard the little girls’ laughter mingling with Roxy’s, he realized that she would be a good mother.

  Fiercely loyal and protective to a fault, she possessed all the qualities that would make her a good wife and a great mother, and yet she consciously chose to be alone for the rest of her life.

  Steve knew it was his mother’s wish that he find another woman, build a new family for himself. He knew she wanted him to love again, this time smarter and forever. But he didn’t trust himself when it came to love. He’d made such a terrible mistake when he’d trusted and loved Stacy so many years ago.

  He halted the games long enough to tell Roxy where they were headed and then hurried back to where Tom awaited. Steve would have much preferred to drive to the house in the distance, but as he and Tom walked, he was treated to the pleasant scents of spring in a farming community...rich earth turned and planted, wildflowers, horses and hay.

  They spoke of mutual acquaintances as they walked and waved to the men in the distance working their fields. They also talked of the weather and the forecast for a wet spring, which was desperately needed.

  “You said a kidnapped woman. You’re talking about Liz Marcoli?” Tom asked. Steve looked at him in surprise, and Tom smiled. “Gossip even travels here by horse and buggy.”

  “She disappeared from her house Friday morning, and nobody has seen or heard from her since,” Steve explained. “Roxy has also been attacked twice, and we don’t know if the two incidents are related or not.”

  “And you think William and his son have something to do with these attacks?” Tom shook his head. “William is one of the deacons, a godly man who would never do anything to harm another human being.”

  “And his son?”

  “A young man entranced with the English ways, but he remains devoted to the Ordnung,” Tom replied. Steve knew the Ordnung was the rules of the church, strictly enforced by Tom as bishop. “However, I know Jason has been struggling since his mother’s death a year ago. William needs a new wife, as he has not only Jason, but five other younger children, as well. Many burdens have fallen on William’s and Jason’s shoulders since the death of Mariah.”

  “Roxy does business with Isaaic Zooker, and she thinks he believes she’s a demon.”

  Tom laughed and shook his head. “Cheese Man Zooker can be a bit intimidating, but he’s a good man. Unfortunately right now he’s ashamed to be a brother to Abraham Zooker, who is at the moment being shunned and is an embarrassment to his brother.”

  “Shunned for what?” Steve asked curiously.

  “Community issues that I can promise you have nothing to do with your crimes or the person you seek.”

  Steve nodded, aware that the internal workings of the community were rarely shared with the outside world. He also knew that shunning could occur for anything as simple as the width of the brim on a hat or something more serious such as the use of forbidden technology.

  “Sounds like we have similar jobs,” Steve said. “You keep the order here, and I try to keep the order in town.”

  Tom smiled. “I think my job is much easier than yours. The people who are here among us live a simple life and find happiness in observing the Ordnung and serving the community and family.”

  Over the next two and a half hours Steve and Tom spoke to William King and his son, Jason. They headed to Isaaic Zooker’s house and spoke to him. As they walked between houses Tom introduced him to the fieldworkers, and they paused to speak to each of the older and young men.

  It hadn’t taken Steve long to realize he wouldn’t get any answers here. While he’d found everyone cooperative and friendly, he also couldn’t imagine anyone in this close-knit community—where traditional values reined and rules guided every aspect of their lives—culpable of having anything to do with Liz’s disappearance or the attacks on Roxy.

  By the time they returned to Tom’s house, his wife, Elizabeth, told him that Roxy had walked to the Fisher house to visit with Sarah.

  Tom pointed out the Fisher home, and with a warm goodbye, Steve got into his car and drove to the house, which looked much like all the others.

  Steve heard Roxy the minute he got out of the car. Her laughter came from the side of the house. He rounded the house to find himself at the edge of an herb garden that filled the air with savory and sweet scents.

  Roxy had a wooden basket in hand, and the woman he assumed to be Sarah Fisher stooped beside her, placing sprigs of this and that in the basket.

  “Rosemary, you must have rosemary,” Sarah said and added a handful of greenery to the basket.

  “I think you are a good saleswoman, Sarah Fisher,” Roxy said with a laugh. “All I needed was a little fresh basil, and look how you’ve filled my basket nearly to the brim.”

  * * *

  Sarah straightened. She was a tall woman next to the short Roxy, and her face was lovely, bathed with a smile and a glow from within. “You know I’ll give you a good bargain for the basketful.”

  Steve watched silently as the two haggled over price and arrived at one that had each of them smiling. It was only after Roxy pulled money from a pocket in her dress that she saw Steve.

  “I wondered if you’d forgotten me,” she said. “Sarah, this is Detective Kincaid. Steve, this is Sarah Fisher.”

  Sarah nodded and cast her eyes downward shyly. “It’s nice to know you.”

  “Nice to meet you, too,” he replied and then looked at Roxy. “Are you ready to go?”

  Roxy nodded. “In a couple of days you might send some more fresh things with Isaaic when he brings the cheese to the restaurant.”

  “I’ll do that,” Sarah said.

  Minutes later Steve and Roxy were in the car and headed back to town. “Did you learn anything you didn’t know before we got here?” she asked.

  “Not really.” The entire interior of the car smelled of t
he herbs, and he drew a deep breath of the fragrance. “Although I did learn that Jason King doesn’t have a girlfriend, so we can rule out a jealous Amish girl trying to hurt you.”

  She nodded and looked out the window. “Sometimes I think the Amish have the right idea about life. No electricity, no internet or television. Entertainment is getting together with families and cooking. It just all seems so simple.”

  “But all is not simple anywhere,” Steve replied. “I heard that Abraham Zooker is being shunned for some reason or another. Tom wasn’t specific.”

  “Using too much water,” Roxy said. “Sarah told me. He’ll be shunned for another week. It’s a great disgrace to be shunned. Nobody is allowed to speak to him, and he can’t attend any of the church or community gatherings. It might not be too hard on Abraham. His house is the farthest away from all the others, on the edge of the Amish land, and he seems to be a man comfortable alone and making his beautiful furniture.”

  “I didn’t even know they had water in the homes.”

  “The houses are traditional houses, with water and electric lights and all the modern conveniences,” Roxy said. “They’re built to today’s standards for resale value. But from what Sarah has told me on my visits to her house, none of the homes are hooked up to the electricity, and while they use their bathrooms like normal people, they are allowed to shower or bathe only once a week with their water monitored.”

  “So maybe Abraham is taking a couple of showers each week instead of just one,” Steve said. “I’m surprised they use city water at all.”

  “It was a decision made by Tom after much prayer, according to what Sarah told me. About a year ago, all the old outhouses were torn down and each home was hooked up to the water, but with a strict guideline for use. I don’t pretend to understand all of their ways, but I do admire their sense of family and community.”

  Roxy fell silent, and Steve knew she was probably thinking about her aunt and perhaps the fact that she’d never really had a traditional family unit.

  The only way he felt as if he could help ease some of that pain was for him to find her aunt, and he had no clues, only flimsy leads to follow and the terrible feeling that the older woman was long dead.

  “I think you need to stay at my place for the time being,” Steve said as he parked next to Roxy’s car at the Dollhouse.

  Roxy frowned at the back door of her establishment. “I don’t want to do that.” She turned and looked at him, fighting against the anger directed toward the person who had tried to hurt her and the fear that stirred once again in her heart. “I mean, I appreciate the offer, but I hate that I even have to think about it. I hate that somebody is running me out of my house. And what am I supposed to do about the Dollhouse business?”

  Steve stared at the house in front of him and then looked at her once again. “I don’t know why you can’t keep things going here. I can drop you off in the mornings and then pick you up and take you to my place for the nights. I’ll be honest, Roxy, nobody can assure your safety here when nobody else is around.”

  She thought of the knives...of the agony of being locked in the freezer. “I know.”

  “It won’t be forever,” he assured her. “I have other people to talk to, people who were on your list. Going to the settlement today was just the beginning of a real investigation into who is behind these attacks on you. I think it would be best if you get back to work here full-time, and I’ll take you to my house to sleep.”

  “Okay,” she finally said. She wanted to feel safe, and she knew she wouldn’t feel safe here alone at night for a while.

  “Hopefully you and your buddies will be able to figure all this out in the next couple of days.” She swallowed against an unexpected emotion. “I want my life back, Steve. I want Aunt Liz found, and I want my life back.”

  “I know,” he replied softly. “And I hope we can all do that for you, but in the meantime I just want to keep you safe.”

  She looked at her watch. It was slightly past two. She didn’t even care who he was going to check out next. All she wanted to do now was get inside her business and work for the rest of the afternoon, to lose herself in the joy of making other people happy through food.

  She turned and grabbed her basket of herbs and then opened the passenger door and started to step outside.

  “Roxy, I’ll be back here to pick you up around six. You make sure Josie or Greg hangs around with you until I arrive.”

  “Okay, then I’ll see you later.” She was aware of him watching her as she walked to the back door. Somebody had fixed the broken window in the door at some point during the previous night or day. It was only when she stepped inside and turned that she saw Steve drive away.

  He’d probably seen to the replacement of the window, feeling responsible since they’d broken it. She’d make sure whoever paid for it was reimbursed. After all, it had been broken to save her life.

  “Roxy!” Josie greeted her in surprise. “I’ve been wondering what happened to you today, but I figured you must be out doing something important since you weren’t here.”

  “Steve and I drove out to the settlement. He had some people to question, and while I was there I got some herbs from Sarah.” She set the basket on top of the nearby counter.

  “Good. You were out of basil, and we were running low on parsley. Since you weren’t here to plan a menu for the day, I’ve got hot roast-beef sandwiches and barbecue chicken for the afternoon.”

  “Sounds fine.” Roxy began to put away the herbs, her thoughts as scattered as dandelion seeds in the wind. There had been no point of entry when somebody had shoved her in the freezer the night before. Josie had a key, as did Greg and Gus, the older man who came in for the evenings to help with cleanup.

  Josie had been with her since the opening of the restaurant, and Greg had worked for her for the past two years. Gus was a fairly recent hire, a widower who had decided to work the evening hours to staunch the loneliness since his wife’s death.

  She’d often had to get tough with Gus, but surely she’d never been mean enough to him that he’d want to kill her. He was just absentminded and often forgot what he was hired to do.

  Josie appeared to have everything under control in preparation for a late afternoon rush, so Roxy excused herself and went up to her private quarters. Once there she made phone calls to both Marlene and Sheri, just to let them know that there were still no leads in Liz’s disappearance.

  She continued to keep secret the two attacks on her, afraid that both of her sisters would freak out, afraid that they’d insist they move in with her or she move to their places, neither of which was viable in Roxy’s mind.

  Marlene lived in a small walk-up apartment above the Treasure Trove, and the apartment was meant for one person. Sheri’s cabin in the woods was bigger and had plenty of room, but it was too far up the mountain for Roxy to travel back and forth to the Dollhouse.

  There was no way she wanted either of her sisters here with her, where they could potentially be in danger just by being close to Roxy.

  At least for now, Steve’s idea of her spending each night with him was the most realistic plan. However, there would be no more shared baths beneath the stars, no more lovemaking between them.

  He’d already managed to get beneath her defenses more than she wanted. She couldn’t allow herself to get caught up in any silly fantasy where Steve was concerned.

  Even if he wanted a woman in his life, she was all wrong for him. She was all wrong for anyone. After all, her own mother had kept her for seven years and had ultimately found her not worth keeping.

  * * *

  Liz Marcoli had no idea where she was, how long she’d been there or who was holding her captive. She couldn’t remember how she’d gotten there and only knew that she’d awakened from what felt like a drugged sleep to find herself in some sort of bu
nker.

  The sides were concrete and the ceiling was earthen, along with the back wall, and she guessed that she was someplace underground. There were no windows and only one door. Within the door was a doggie door. About twenty-four inches tall and equally as wide, it was still far too small for her to attempt to crawl through. It was also locked from the other side.

  She’d initially had no idea if it was day or night, but she had recently discerned a timetable of sorts by what happened each day.

  The sound of footsteps on wooden stairs always preceded the sound of the little doggie door being unlocked, and a tray of food would be shoved inside.

  When the tray contained eggs and toast or a large bowl of oatmeal and coffee, she knew it must be morning. When the food was a sandwich, then she knew it must be around noon. Dinner was usually a large meal, with meat and vegetables and hot water and a tea bag of her favorite chai tea blend.

  She’d been conscious for three days now, and a silent scream of fear had been her only companion. Why was she here? And where was here? And who was it who kept her captive? Delivered her food?

  The last thing she remembered was standing in her kitchen in the early morning and getting things ready to leave to deliver her usual goodies to the Dollhouse. But she didn’t remember getting into her car or anything after that.

  Had she somehow been driving and had a stroke or suffered some sort of crazy amnesia that had her wandering on a mountain road? Had she wrecked the car and been picked up by some crazy man and brought here?

  She had no physical injuries that would indicate she’d been in an accident, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t figure out how she had gotten to this place, wherever it was.

  She wasn’t sure why, but she had a feeling she was somewhere in the mountains, that perhaps this had been some crazy survivalist’s hideaway at one time or another.

  The room where she was being held was small, with a cot against one wall and empty wooden shelves along the other wall. There was a stool and a stall shower with a tiny stainless steel sink. There was also a comfortable chair with a standing lamp just behind it.