Plain Threats Read online

  Something niggled at her brain. How was it that he had just come by? She shook away her misgivings and stepped back from the window. The wet fabric of her skirt clung to her legs. Yuck.

  She jogged up the stairs, stopping outside her son’s bedroom. A thin line of light leaked from the bottom of his door. She lifted her hand to knock, then something inside her said to wait. A rational conversation wasn’t going to be had while she shivered in her wet dress.

  Samuel needed time to cool down, too.

  Decision made, she retreated to her bedroom and changed into warm sleep clothes. After she brushed her teeth and washed her face, she climbed into her bed. Pulling the covers up, she said a quiet prayer for wisdom on how to reach her son. She couldn’t bear to lose him. Not him, too.

  Creak.

  The house must be settling, Rebecca reasoned to herself. She rolled over and pulled the covers up over her shoulder. The nights were getting cooler. She took long breaths in and out but couldn’t slow the thoughts racing through her head.

  Harvest time was coming. She wondered how much longer she’d be able to manage the farm while she spent long hours at the diner.

  The girls were spending more and more time with their aunt and uncle.

  Everything that was important to her was slipping through her fingers.

  Creak. Creak. Bang.

  Rebecca froze and the sound of her shaky breath filled her ears. The noise had come from downstairs. She sprung up in bed and tossed the covers back in one swift motion. “Samuel!” she called. “Samuel, are you okay?”

  When he didn’t answer, a flush of dread heated her skin and made her dizzy. For once in her life, she wished she had a phone—one of the portable ones—to call for help.

  She swung her legs out from under the covers and her toes hit the cool hardwood floor. She grabbed her robe from the hook and stuffed her arms into the sleeves. After hesitating at the bedroom door, she finally mustered the nerve to step into the dark hallway.

  The house was quiet save for the ticking of a battery-powered clock downstairs in the kitchen, the sound traveling through the house.

  Samuel’s bedroom door yawned open revealing a dark space.

  Her mouth went dry. “Samuel?”

  Tick-tock-tick-tock mingled with her shaky breath.

  Rebecca stepped into his room. Samuel’s bed was empty. In the dark, she made out some of the shadows. The radio. The open laptop. The shock of seeing the forbidden items had worn off a bit, but still they taunted her. He had to get this worldliness out of his system. Come to realize that the Amish way of life was the only way.

  Biting her lower lip, she left his room and descended the stairs. At that exact moment, the front door flew open and slammed against the wall. She couldn’t make out his expression in the dark, but she knew it was her son. He pulled on something stuck in the wood of the door, then slammed the door shut.

  She moved to the sitting room and turned on the kerosene lamp. Her growing unease swelled up, making her shudder. Rebecca tightened the tie on her robe around her waist. “Samuel, what is it? What’s wrong?” Her gaze dropped to his hand. A silver blade glistened in the dim light. “What is that?” A lump of emotion clogged her throat.

  Samuel glanced at the blade in his hand, as if he didn’t know how it had gotten there. With a tight set of his mouth, he moved his other hand behind him. “You’ve got to leave things alone.”

  Rebecca took a step toward him, the wood creaking beneath her.

  “Samuel,” she pleaded, “please tell me what’s going on. Did someone stick a knife in our front door?” A chill raced down her spine.

  “Looks that way.” His clipped words seemed forced. A cover for his own fear.

  “Who would do such a thing? Did they leave a note under the blade?” Had she seen a piece of paper in his other hand?

  The soft moonlight slanting through the window caught the naked fear in his eyes. He bowed his head, looking as if he wanted to say something.

  “I want to help you,” she pleaded. “Tell me.”

  He straightened. A hard expression darkened his eyes. “Stop asking questions. You’re only making matters worse.”

  Rebecca hugged her arms around her middle. Suddenly, she felt sick. “What am I making worse?”

  His stance widened and he pushed back his shoulders. Confident. Strong. Defiant. Her stomach twisted. So much like his father. “Isn’t Rumspringa supposed to be a time of freedom for me? Time for me to explore on my own?”

  “Is that what this is all about?” She shook her head. She couldn’t believe it. “There has to be more to it. We’re being harassed. Are people still angry about Willard?”

  A muscle worked in his jaw, as if he couldn’t find the words.

  “Something else is going on. Tell me.” She stepped forward and placed her hand gently on his arm, hoping to give him an opening. “Does it have to do with Elmer’s death? I know you and he were good friends.”

  “You’re worse than Dat in trying to control me.”

  Rebecca flattened her hands over her heart, feeling as if she had been stabbed. “I know you’re hurting, but how could you compare me to your father? He was an evil man.” The sting of tears burned the back of her eyes. “You need to apologize.”

  Samuel’s lips thinned into a straight line. This was not the young man she’d raised. Had Willard damaged him this much?

  A cold realization washed over her. She reached out to touch his arm and then thought better of it. “You are not your father’s son. You are not Willard Fisher. You are Samuel. You are growing into a gut man.” A million thoughts swirled in her brain. “Whatever is going on, I can help you. But you have to confide in me.”

  Samuel placed the knife on the table, crossed his arms and glared at her.

  “If you can’t confide in me, confide in Professor Burke.”

  “So he can tell you?” Samuel bit out the angry words.

  “The professor hasn’t told me anything. He said he didn’t want to betray your trust.” She angled her head, trying to get him to meet her eyes, but he seemed more interested in the dark ledge of the first stair. “Please, I want to help you.”

  Samuel rubbed his hand across his mussed hair. “Elmer lived in our barn after his father kicked him out for doing drugs.”

  Rebecca held her breath, waiting. “You should have told me. Perhaps I could have talked to his dat for him.”

  Samuel shook his head. “Mr. King was so angry. It wouldn’t have mattered.” The look of regret, sadness, guilt on her son’s face hurt her deeply.

  Rebecca softened her voice, longing to ease Samuel’s guilt. “Yah, you were a gut friend. You did what you thought was right.” It wasn’t unheard of for people to take in their friends by providing a blanket and a soft spot to lay their head. Her son was no different.

  Samuel ran a finger under his nose, then pointed upstairs. “All that stuff. The laptop. Everything. It was Elmer’s. He asked me to hold it for him until he figured out what he was going to do next.”

  Relief and shame weighed heavy on her chest.

  “You were a gut friend,” she said again, determined to ease whatever was bothering him.

  “No, I wasn’t. I knew he was smoking weed the night he got into his car and drove away. It’s all my fault.”

  Rebecca pointed to the knife with its sinister blade resting on the small table. “Is someone threatening you because of Elmer’s death?”

  “I—I think that’s what this is about. Some of the guys have been harassing me. Telling me I should have stopped him from driving.” He plowed his hand through his hair again. “But I left him in the barn and came inside. How was I to know he was going to get in the car?”

  “You didn’t.” Rebecca wanted desperately to console him, but she knew he’d pull away. She was just happy he was finally opening up.

  “Either way, I think you need to stop asking questions. It’s only causing us more problems. People are also still mad about Willard. We
have to let it go and then things will die down.”

  “We can’t let people get away with harassing us. When will it stop?”

  “Leave it alone, and it will stop.” Samuel turned the key on the door, then picked up the knife and carried it into the kitchen. The metal blade clattered against the porcelain sink.

  Was Samuel right? If she stopped asking questions, if she ignored the harassment, would whoever was doing this get bored and finally leave her family alone?

  She closed her eyes and looked up at the night sky. Her wish was a foolish one.

  * * *

  Jake didn’t have to teach his Intro to the Amish class until noon, so he drove out to the Fishers’ farm early the next morning, hoping to catch the Yoder brothers and see what they’d been up to last night after they’d raced away from the Sunday singing in a car. He hoped the young Amish men he had gotten to know weren’t involved in the horseplay that had gotten Rebecca thrown off her buggy.

  A dark foreboding knotted his gut. What if it hadn’t been horseplay and they had intentionally tried to hurt Rebecca?

  Jake had called Sheriff Maxwell last night to ask if there had been any incidents, car accidents, things along that line, with the Amish last night. The sheriff claimed they hadn’t had any calls. It had been a quiet night for the most part. The sheriff said he’d send additional patrols by the Fisher farm. Jake hoped that wouldn’t cause more problems between Samuel and Rebecca.

  Something about Samuel’s evasive answers had kept Jake awake most of the night. The young man was either up to something or afraid of something. Or both. Jake had to get Samuel to trust him enough to open up. But he had to be careful not to alienate him like he had Elmer.

  Jake parked on the dirt driveway. When he pushed open his car door, he heard angry voices coming from the barn. Jake couldn’t make out the words, just the hostile tone. He broke into a jog and slowed at the doorway. Through the opening, he saw Samuel and Uri Yoder standing inches apart. Samuel had his arm up, ready to strike.

  “Hey, hey, hey...” Jake yelled as he stormed into the barn. “What’s going on?”

  The two young men spun around to face him. Samuel lowered his fist and his shoulders immediately sagged. He crossed his arms and huffed, as if struggling to contain his anger.

  “What’s going on?” Jake repeated.

  An aw-shucks smile spread across Uri’s face. He took off his straw hat and rubbed the back of his hand across his forehead. “I mucked out the stalls yesterday and I was trying to get Samuel to take his turn.”

  Samuel’s head snapped up, to call him a liar or perhaps surprised at the comment as if that wasn’t what they had been arguing over.

  Jake strolled in closer and dared put a hand on both men’s shoulders. “What’s really going on here?”

  Samuel squirmed, stepping away from Jake’s touch. “What Uri said. But since we’re paying him to work here, he doesn’t get to decide what I do.” He hiked up his chin, daring Uri to defy him. “He and his brother are hired farmhands. We tell them what to do.”

  Uri pulled away with a hard set of his jaw. He grabbed the pitchfork leaning against the stall. “Yeah, whatever. I thought we were friends.”

  “Wait up,” Jake said to Uri. “Did you hear what happened last night?”

  The two young men shared a quick glance that might have gone unnoticed if Jake hadn’t been watching them closely.

  “I told him this morning.” Samuel glanced at the hay strewn on the barn floor and kicked it around with his boot.

  “Is that the first you’d heard of it?” Jake watched Uri’s expression carefully.

  The young man’s eyes narrowed into slits. “Are you accusing me of something? As if this day couldn’t get any worse...” Without waiting for an answer, Uri stomped into the horse’s stall and lifted a manure pile with the fork and dumped it into a nearby wheelbarrow.

  Jake rubbed his jawline, realizing that antagonizing these young men wasn’t going to help him and his research or, more important, Rebecca. She needed these young men to harvest the crops or she’d be in serious financial trouble.

  Uri swiped his brow with the sleeve of his blue shirt. “I only learned of Mrs. Fisher’s accident this morning.” He lifted another load into the wheelbarrow.

  Jake held his breath against the pungent smell.

  “Are you both going to stand there and watch me? I have plenty of work to do and I don’t appreciate an audience.”

  Determined to lighten the mood, Jake said, “You guys free to meet for dinner at the diner? Tonight maybe?”

  Samuel lifted a shoulder, then let it drop. “Sure.”

  Uri set the pitchfork down and rested his elbow on the handle. “Food?” He smiled slyly. “I’m in.”

  Uri went back to work and Jake led Samuel toward the barn door. “Everything okay here, for real?”

  Samuel rolled his eyes. “Yeah, everything’s fine.”

  Jake nodded slowly. “Your mem home?”

  “Inside making breakfast.”

  Jake didn’t want to get all sentimental and scare the young man away, but he had to keep reminding Samuel that he was available if he needed anything.

  Samuel’s lips flattened into a thin line. He had reacted negatively when Jake first told him this. Perhaps the young man didn’t want to be reminded that he didn’t have a father. Even when he’d had one, the guy wasn’t much of a role model.

  * * *

  The delicious scent of bacon filled the small space of Rebecca’s kitchen. She lined the strips on a plate, careful not to let the grease splash.

  Every muscle in her legs, arms and back ached from being thrown from the buggy last night. She was grateful the accident hadn’t been worse than it had been, but she couldn’t forget the angry exchange with Samuel in the middle of the night. Someone had stuck a blade in their front door.

  Did it really have to do with Elmer’s death? Something niggled at her. What more was Samuel hiding?

  She wondered if it was time to call the sheriff, but she was caught between a rock and a hard place. Would Samuel be held responsible because he knew Elmer had been doing drugs before his death? Would Samuel shut down for good if she betrayed his confidence? She drew in a deep breath and let it out.

  She couldn’t think clearly. She had already lost so much. She tossed the tongs in the sink and glanced out the window. Her heart stuttered in her chest. Dressed in a handsome sport coat and clean shaven, the professor walked across the yard toward the house.

  Instinctively, she smoothed what little hair wasn’t hidden under her bonnet. She ran a hand down her skirt. When she reached the front door, he was already on the porch.

  He tilted his head and a half smile slanted his lips.

  Exactly what she didn’t need.

  “I didn’t expect you this morning.” She hoped her expression was inscrutable.

  “How are you?”

  Rebecca moved her arms as if to remind herself that her muscles did indeed still ache. “A little sore. But at least I’m in one piece...and dry.” She ran a finger under her chin. “Were you in the barn?”

  The professor nodded. “I paid a visit to Samuel and Uri. They seemed to be having a disagreement over chores.”

  “Hmm? That’s unusual.” Her mind went to Samuel’s sour mood last night.

  He took a step forward, the wood creaking under his weight. “What’s on your mind?”

  Rebecca worried her lower lip. “Someone stuck a knife in the door last night.” She turned and ran her fingers over the small scar the knife had left.

  Worry creased the corner of his eyes. “That’s odd.”

  “I thought so, too.” Rebecca nodded toward the inside. “Come in. I don’t want Samuel to overhear.”

  They walked into the kitchen, and she encouraged the professor to sit while she started the coffee. The smell of freshly cooked bacon and eggs hung in the air.

  “Samuel finally opened up to me and I need someone objective to help me decide how to ha
ndle this.” She had never expected to be a single parent.

  She paused and pressed her lips into a thin line. “You have to promise me to keep this in confidence.”

  The professor gave her a quick nod.

  “Samuel feels guilty because Elmer was living in our barn after his father kicked him out. He knew Elmer was on drugs the night he died.”

  “You had no idea Elmer was staying in your barn?”

  “Neh. None. And Samuel claims all the electronics in his room belonged to Elmer.”

  “Did Samuel have an explanation for the knife in the door?”

  “He thinks people are blaming him for Elmer’s death with some residual anger about Willard. That if I stop asking questions, things will quietly go back to normal.”

  The professor got a faraway look in his eyes, as if he were processing all the information. “Samuel must think it’s one of the youngie harassing you. Why else would he tell you to stop asking questions? Your questions led me to go to the Sunday singing.”

  A headache started behind her eyes. “What are they trying to hide?”

  “Drug use? Or are they just angry and lashing out?”

  She lifted a shaky hand to her collar, suddenly feeling very hot in her small kitchen. “I don’t know. I don’t know anything anymore.”

  “Do you think Samuel is into drugs?”

  All the color drained from her already pale face. Isn’t that why she had gone to the professor initially? To find out what was going on with Samuel, even if it included drugs.

  “I don’t know. I pray he isn’t,” she whispered.

  The sound of footsteps on the back porch had Rebecca swiping at unseen tears. Uri and Samuel burst through the back door.

  “Breakfast is ready.” She glanced at Uri and Samuel. “Where’s Jonas?”

  “He’ll be in shortly,” Uri said. He smiled at Rebecca, and washed his hands at the sink. “Everything looks great, Mrs. Fisher.”

  “Eat up. I know you boys have more work once you get home to your own farm.”

  The boys filled their plates and sat down.