Plain Cover-Up Page 2

  Christina had to find justice for this young woman, her friend, one way or another. Over the years, Christina had taken pride in helping a handful of abused women escape their abusers and create new lives elsewhere.

  The adrenaline surging through her veins was making her thoughts race out of control. She didn’t even know what happened to Naomi, yet. Maybe Christina had completely misread the situation.

  Naomi struggled to sit up, her bonnet askew on her head. Christina held Naomi’s arm and helped her to a sitting position. She stood close, watching Naomi for any signs that she was going to pass out or be sick. She conducted a few tests to check for a concussion. Christina suspected the young woman had been drugged. The normally chatty Amish woman’s eyes were wide with fear. A tremble seemed to ripple through her when she locked gazes with Dylan.

  Understanding better than most, Christina smiled apologetically at Dylan. “Can you give us privacy for a minute?”

  “Sure.” Unspoken understanding stretched between them. “I’ll be in the hallway.”

  “And Dylan,” Christina added, “don’t call the sheriff.”

  The Amish woman gasped in relief. “Denki.” Thank you.

  The door clicked closed and Christina turned back to the young woman. “Naomi, who did this to you?”

  Naomi averted her eyes and shook her head. “Neh.”

  “What happened?”

  Silence.

  “You can trust me. I’ll help you.” Christina brushed her fingers along a tender bruise on the young woman’s cheek. Naomi flinched.

  “I don’t know.”

  Christina took a steadying breath. “You don’t have to be afraid.” A memory never far from the surface weighed on Christina’s lungs. With determination, she focused on what was right in front of her. Naomi. Her patient. Christina could help her.

  Christina had always focused on what was right in front of her. Her education. Her career. Never deviating from the path.

  It’s what kept her sane.

  Naomi looked up and fear flickered across her face. “I went to a barn party with a friend.” She blinked slowly. “I don’t remember much else.”

  Christina clasped her hands in front of her, suspecting Naomi was intentionally being evasive. However, she feared Naomi had been drugged. Perhaps someone had spiked her drink. Or maybe she had been unaccustomed to drinking and had overdone it?

  “Have you been drinking?” Christina cringed at the unintended accusation in her tone. Even if Naomi had been drinking, she didn’t deserve to be attacked and dumped like yesterday’s garbage in a parking lot.

  Christina’s mind flashed back to her college roommate’s accusatory tone when Christina began to relate her own story after an incident with a man she had trusted.

  Are you sure you weren’t a tease? I can’t believe he’d do that to you. He’s such a nice guy. And a friend of your brother’s. He has a wife and kid. Why would he attack you?

  As if any of those reasons would stop a predator. As if her roommate’s disbelief and uncertainty had made what happened to Christina less real. Despite the unease quivering in her stomach, Christina placed her hand on Naomi’s shoulder. “Even if you did drink, you didn’t deserve to get attacked.”

  “One beer,” Naomi said, her voice hoarse. The Amish woman studied her clenched hands in her lap, shame radiating from her hunched posture. “I didn’t plan to drink. I wanted...” Her voice trailed off as if she was carefully measuring how much to reveal.

  Christina had been drinking the night she was attacked. Perhaps too much.

  A night of hazy memories and accusations.

  “Naomi, you can trust me. I’ll do whatever I can to help you. Tell me what you remember.”

  The Amish woman tugged at a blue and purple yarn bracelet on her wrist, such a small thing but it showed she was straddling two worlds. “I told you everything I remember.”

  “Who brought you here?” Christina asked, trying to coax out the answers Naomi was holding back.

  Naomi shrugged. A single tear trailed down her cheek. “It’s all so fuzzy. Where did you find me?”

  “Outside in the rain.” Christina tilted her head to study the young woman. A deep line creased Naomi’s forehead as if they were discussing someone else altogether.

  “You don’t remember?”

  Naomi shook her head again. “My Englisch friend Cheryl brought me to the party, but I lost track of her.” Her eyes flashed wide. “It wonders me if something happened to her.” Naomi’s entire body trembled and her lower lip had turned a disconcerting shade of blue.

  “Is Cheryl the friend who sometimes drives you to work?”

  “Yah. Do you know where she is?”

  Christina placed her hand on Naomi’s arm. “We’ll find out. First I need you to change into this gown for an exam.”

  “Neh, neh...” Naomi fisted the fabric of her dress at her chest. She shook her head and what little color she had in her cheeks visibly drained.

  “You have a right to refuse any exam, but if someone hurt you,” Christina spoke softly so as not to further spook her young Amish friend, “we need to collect evidence.”

  “Neh, I don’t want anyone to know. Please.”

  Christina’s heart broke for the young woman and she fought to remain calm. She patted the sweatpants and sweatshirt sitting on the exam table. “Would you give me a urine sample? It would help us determine the drugs in your system. You can use the bathroom right there.”

  “I didn’t take drugs. I don’t do drugs.”

  “Someone could have slipped you something in a drink.”

  “I only had one beer.” Naomi bowed her head. “I shouldn’t have had that.”

  “No, one’s blaming you.” Christina smiled. “I’d like to do a test to check.”

  Naomi seemed hesitant at first, then agreed.

  “Okay, then. Take care of the sample, then change into these dry clothes. We’ll chat once you’re dry.”

  “You’re not going to call the sheriff?”

  Again, Christina carefully phrased her reply. “No, not unless you agree. I believe we should, but I’ll respect your wishes.” She smiled again, trying to reassure Naomi that she could trust her. “Take care of this—” she tapped the specimen container “—then get dressed.”

  Naomi looked up at her with trusting eyes and Christina worried that she wasn’t worthy of such confidence. Such trust. Trust she had repeatedly sought from other victimized women who had come through her clinic over the years.

  It was a long road.

  Christina had failed miserably in protecting herself. She had allowed one night—one man—to define her. To shape her choices.

  But would helping Naomi put Christina in harm’s way? Had it already? Christina touched her arm, tender from landing hard on it when Dylan pushed her out of the path of the racing car.

  None of that mattered. She had to help Naomi.

  Christina patted Naomi’s hand, making a silent promise that she’d protect the woman. To help her not let tonight define who she was.

  Dear God, help me do right by this young woman.

  TWO

  Dylan drummed his fingers on the counter-height surface outside of the exam room in the rear of the Apple Creek Healthcare Clinic. He understood the young Amish woman’s need for privacy, but he was eager to learn who had dropped her off at the clinic because that same person tried to run Christina over with his vehicle.

  It didn’t make sense. Someone cared enough to drop Naomi off here, but had recklessly aimed their vehicle at the physician meant to help her. Clearly whoever it was wasn’t thinking. Period.

  Or perhaps they hadn’t realized the figure walking toward them was the physician. Either way, they were reckless and needed to be found.

&nb
sp; The cold fingers of dread scraped across the back of his neck. What if he hadn’t hopped into his truck to see if Christina needed a ride with the approaching storm? She had refused his offer at the diner, and she could be stubborn. She had proven that by giving him the cold shoulder ever since he moved back to Apple Creek in January. Five months of polite greetings on the street. Nothing more. Nothing less.

  He supposed he deserved that. He had broken up with Christina when they were both at Genwego State. She’d been an undergraduate and he was finishing up law school. He had told her he wanted to move to Buffalo to be an FBI agent and had no plans of settling down, least of all in Apple Creek. The breakup had been both efficient and cruel.

  But life had a way of getting back at him, dishing out a hearty helping of cruelty. Now here he was serving as an interim professor at his alma mater, on extended leave from the FBI. He hadn’t been the kind of agent he had hoped to be, and his partner, Special Agent Nora Reed, had paid the ultimate price. And when an opening came up at the law school, he figured, why not? It gave him something to do besides ruminate over his failings.

  Dylan shook his head, trying to dispel the dark clouds forever hovering over him. He paced the small space outside the three exam rooms, eager to expend his restless energy, eager to hear Naomi’s version of events. He rubbed the back of his neck, grateful that tonight he had been in the right place at the right time. Christina had nearly been run over. His childhood self might have thanked God for the act of divine intervention, but his tough upbringing didn’t give him many opportunities to thank anyone, let alone God.

  The floorboards creaked behind the closed door and Dylan watched the door handle turn. Christina appeared, directing Naomi to the bathroom. When Dylan started to ask Christina what was going on, she shook her head. A few minutes later, Naomi emerged, holding wet garments and looking like any other teen fresh out of the shower, with wet hair and comfy clothes.

  “Everything okay?” he asked.

  Christina opened her mouth to say something when the front door crashed open. “Hello?” a female’s voice hollered down the hall. “Hello, I’m looking for Naomi Mullet. Is Naomi here?” The young woman sounded strained as she drew closer.

  Recognition dawned on Naomi’s face, with a hint of relief. “Cheryl.” Naomi moved toward her friend’s voice and stumbled over a lump in the carpet. Dylan grabbed her elbow to steady her.

  Christina pushed a chair over. “Sit here. I’ll bring Cheryl back.”

  Naomi nodded, relief and exhaustion playing on her pretty face.

  Cheryl charged into the back of the clinic dressed in blue jeans and a university sweatshirt. Her red hair was pulled into a long ponytail, her freckles prominent on her pale skin. Relief lit her heavily made-up eyes. “There you are! I was so worried.” She gave her Amish friend’s sweatpants and sweatshirt a once over. “What happened to your clothes?”

  Christina watched the young woman intently. “Were you at the party with Naomi?” To Christina’s credit, there was no hint of blame or accusation in her voice. During his law enforcement career, Dylan noticed adults tended to blame teens first, ask questions second.

  “Yes.” Cheryl’s lips quivered. “I drove her to the party. Naomi didn’t plan on staying.” A smile touched the corners of her glossed lips. “Usually when Naomi used to go to parties with me she tried to fit in.”

  “You mean, she didn’t wear her Amish clothes?” Dylan asked, slipping into FBI interrogation mode.

  “No, she didn’t. She’d dress casual. Like me. I’m not Amish.” Cheryl giggled nervously. “Lots of Amish kids break the rules. They’re trying to figure things out.”

  “You’ve heard of Rumspringa?” Naomi spoke up. “I lost my way for a little while. I did things—” her voice cracked “—I’m not proud of. But I’m determined to live the Amish Way.”

  “Then why go to the party?” Christina asked, studying the young Amish woman with her intense brown eyes.

  “I heard Lloyd Burkholder was supposed to be there. I needed to talk to him.” Naomi groaned. “Please tell me he didn’t show up.”

  Cheryl shrugged. “I don’t know. I was talking to some friends outside the barn. By the time I went in, I couldn’t find you. Someone told me you didn’t feel well and Ben Reist was taking you to the clinic.”

  “Ben?” Naomi’s eyebrows drew together. “I sort of remember. Maybe not...” She bit her lower lip. “Does he have short blond hair?” She touched her own head for emphasis.

  Excitement drummed in Dylan’s veins. They had a possible name for the driver who nearly ran Christina over.

  “What kind of kid is Ben Reist?” Dylan asked, his tone harsher than he intended. Naomi looked like a scared rabbit and he didn’t want her to dart.

  Cheryl laughed, a sound void of humor. “Good kid. I was surprised he was at the party. Not really the partying kind.”

  “Do you think he meant to hurt me?” All that Naomi’s question didn’t ask tore at Dylan.

  “No way. Ben’s a good guy. Someone said he could tell you seemed out of it and he wanted to get you out of there.” Cheryl’s eyes grew wide. “As soon as I heard, I jumped into the car. I figured you had too much to drink. The party was getting out of control anyway. All the kids were bailing. They were kinda freaked that the sheriff would show up once some underage drunk Amish girl was dropped at the healthcare clinic.”

  “I believe she may have drugs in her system,” Christina said, matter-of-factly.

  “Drugs?” Cheryl’s voice cracked.

  “I didn’t take drugs.” Naomi said without much conviction. “I only had a beer. And I don’t remember finishing it. Dr. Christina thinks someone could have put something in my drink.”

  Dylan watched Naomi closely for signs she wasn’t telling the truth.

  “Does that seem about right to you, Naomi?” Christina asked.

  “It makes sense.” Naomi’s eyes got a faraway look. She glanced at the clock. “I wasn’t there that long and then everything went fuzzy.”

  A hint of relief settled into the soft lines around Christina’s eyes. They both must have been thinking the same thing. The time frame didn’t likely allow for a sexual assault. This Ben Reist kid had ushered Naomi out of there before whoever drugged her drink had had a chance to act.

  “If Ben is such a nice guy, why didn’t he stick around to make sure Naomi was okay?” Dylan ran through the events in his mind, including the fact that Christina had nearly been run over.

  Cheryl shrugged. “Probably didn’t want to get into trouble. Kids don’t always think.” She said it in a way that made him wonder how old she was. “I hear he’s got a scholarship to some big university starting in the fall. I imagine he didn’t want to jeopardize that. Rumor has it he was in trouble with the police earlier this year. He can’t get in trouble again.”

  Dylan shook his head, frustrated at the dumb decisions kids sometimes made.

  Christina gathered Naomi’s wet clothes. “I’m going to run these through the wash.”

  Dylan pulled her aside. “Is that...?” He wanted to ask if that was a good idea. That the clothes might serve as evidence, but he could tell by the look on Christina’s face that she had already waged and lost that battle with the young Amish girl. Even in the case of a possible sexual assault, in New York State the victim had the right to refuse evidence collection. And if Cheryl was to be believed, Ben had brought Naomi straight from the party to the clinic, minimizing the opportunity for such an assault.

  His lips thinned and he gave Christina a quick nod.

  Christina grabbed Dylan’s arm and pulled him down the hall toward the laundry. She leaned in close and whispered, “I fear sending this sweet girl home in a dirty dress or sweatpants will create far more questions than she’s willing to answer. I think we need to get her cleaned up and see her safely home.”r />
  Dylan nodded, sensing Christina was searching for his agreement.

  Christina stepped away from Dylan and they returned to where the young women were standing. “The laundry’s in the back. We’ll wash your dress before you go home.”

  An unmistakable look of relief swept across the young Amish woman’s face. “Denki. My mem and dat would ask a lot of questions if I showed up in a wet, dirty dress.”

  Point made.

  Christina gave the girl a quick nod and disappeared toward the back of the clinic. He heard the unmistakable crank of a noisy knob on a washer and the gush of water filling the tub.

  Cheryl put her hand on Naomi’s shoulder. “Going to that party was a dumb idea.”

  Naomi frowned. “I thought I could patch things up with Lloyd.”

  Dylan wasn’t interested in Naomi’s love life, but he wondered what this Ben knew about Naomi getting drugged. “Do you know where this Reist boy lives? I’ll call the sheriff and have them run by his house. Get a statement.”

  Naomi looked up with worried eyes. “I’ll be ruined if the police are involved. My parents will find out. They won’t understand.” She pulled the sleeves of the oversized sweatshirt down over her hands. “I should have never gone to that party. My mem and dat would be disappointed.”

  Dylan understood all about disappointing a parent. His demanding father wasn’t exactly reasonable. And his mother died when he was barely eight. She had been the calming force. The reasonable one.

  “Here’s the thing...” Christina reemerged from the laundry room, as if she had been giving something considerable thought. “Dylan can help without getting the police involved. Give us the address and we’ll check it out.”

  Naomi shook her head frantically. “I don’t remember.”

  “Cheryl knows, then,” Christina said, obviously not taking no for an answer.

  Dylan cleared his throat. “You were fortunate nothing more happened.” He hoped they weren’t making a leap in their assumptions. “We need to find out who may have drugged you.”