Plain Threats. Alison StoneЧитать онлайн книгу.
in their depths. “Is he?”
“I have no reason to suspect he is.”
“Can you find out and tell me? Maybe he’ll confide in you. I have lost much in my life—I can’t bear to lose Samuel, too. If he’s made a bad choice, I need to help him before it’s too late. But I want to do it without getting law enforcement involved. If he ended up in prison...” She shook her head. “I’m holding on dearly to all that I have left.”
“I don’t want to lose Samuel’s trust. I can only encourage you to keep trying to reach him.” Jake already knew the devastation of his meddling in Elmer’s life.
“Thanks for your time.” Rebecca’s words came out clipped. She spun around and stormed out of the office.
Jake sat for a moment, replaying the conversation in his head. A subtle thump started behind his eyes. He stood and returned to his chair behind the desk and dialed his assistant’s cell phone number. Tommy picked up on the first ring, his voice hushed. “What’s up?”
“How much do you know about Samuel Fisher? Is he big into the drug or alcohol scene?” His assistant had grown up in the Amish community and had left to earn his GED and eventually go to college. His background gave Tommy an “in” to the sometimes rowdy youngie scene and made him a valuable asset to Jake and his research.
A long pause stretched across the line. For a minute, Jake had thought he’d lost the connection. “Is that who that Amish lady was? Samuel’s mom?”
“Yes.”
“And his mem—” the word sounded foreign on Tommy’s lips, mocking almost “—thinks he’s into drugs and alcohol? Is that why she stopped by?”
“She’s worried about him.” Jake absentmindedly doodled an R on the piece of paper in front of him and traced over and over it. “She wants to know what I know about him.”
Tommy laughed. “Far as I know, Samuel’s a good kid. I’d vote him most likely to bend a knee before he’s twenty-one.”
“Yeah? You really think he’ll choose to be baptized into the Amish community?” Jake felt reassured. “Rebecca Fisher seems to think he might be in some kind of trouble.”
“Nah, not Samuel.” A rustling sounded over the line, like from a gust of wind as if he were still walking.
“Aren’t you home yet?”
Tommy laughed. “What? Are you my keeper? I had some errands to run.” Wind muffled his words again. “Let Mrs. Fisher know Samuel’s a good kid. He’s not into drugs or anything. Not as far as I know.”
“She’ll be relieved.”
“Hey, anything else?” Tommy asked. “I have to run.”
“No. Thanks.” Jake ended the call and tossed aside the pencil. He stood and grabbed his coat from the hook. If he hurried, he might catch up with Rebecca.
Give her some good news for once.
* * *
Rebecca ran down the hall and out the door. Behind her, the heavy door slammed shut, like all her hopes of reaching her son. She stopped short and blinked against the soft mist of rain as she fumbled to open her umbrella. She strode forward, deciding getting wet was the least of her problems.
She had tried everything. Absolutely everything. The professor had been her last hope to uncover what was bothering her son. At the diner, she had noticed how comfortable Samuel seemed chatting with the professor. She had hoped he knew something that would help her reconnect with her son or at least intervene if the professor could pinpoint her son’s troubles.
But this not knowing... This was more painful.
Maybe the professor did know something and he wasn’t sharing.
Even if he did, what could she do with the information? Samuel paid her no mind.
A strong wind whipped around her long dress and her thick stockings underneath. Not for the first time, she muttered evil thoughts about Willard. He was destroying his family long after his death. The leaves on the trees rustled in the wind, setting her nerves on edge. She released her coat from her tight hold and stuffed one arm, then the other, into the sleeves, juggling her tote bag and umbrella. She ran, fighting back the tears.
She couldn’t lose Samuel. His little sisters would be devastated. She would be devastated.
She swiped at the tears.
She hadn’t realized how tightly she had clung to this last measure. To the notion that Professor Burke would help her.
As a young married woman, Willard had isolated Rebecca and she had felt increasingly alone. She had been ruined when she realized the father of her children was a murderer. But she had never felt more alone, more wrecked, than she felt right now. She could never reclaim her place in the Amish community if she lost both her husband and son to the evils of the outside world.
Her family would never be gut oh tzene. No one would ever respect the Fishers again.
Rebecca had heard rumblings at the diner that someone was dealing drugs in town and it might be one of the Amish youngie. Her insides ached every time she thought of it. She had no proof that Samuel would do such a thing, but his complete change in character made her imagine the worst. Sure, he had lost his friend, Elmer, but Samuel had been through far worse. Or maybe it was the culmination of everything he had been through that had put him in the pit of despair.
Would the professor have told her if he had heard Samuel was dealing drugs? She hadn’t dared to ask him that question. She was fiercely protective of her son.
Rebecca stopped to catch her breath and her bearings. Her chest heaved. Blinking, she looked around. She didn’t know how long she had been in Professor Burke’s office. She only hoped the driver she had hired was waiting for her.
The building in front of her looked unfamiliar. Long shadows darkened her path. Suddenly, she realized the country college campus was deserted except for a couple girls walking away from her, their heads angled close in conversation. A hollow feeling expanded inside Rebecca. She missed her friends. Willard had seen to it that she didn’t have any, both before and after his death.
And here she was alone and...lost. In the rain. Where had the van dropped her off? She had been in such a tizzy when she’d left the professor’s building, she hadn’t paid attention to her surroundings.
Stupid woman! Willard’s voice rang in her head. She shook it away. Willard couldn’t control her anymore.
Rebecca strained to see if she could hear the idling of a motor, but all she could hear was the wind whistling through the leaves clinging to the branches.
Rebecca turned on her heel and strode back the way she had come, then made a sharp right near the professor’s building. Now that she had calmed down, she recognized the bench next to a brick memorial.
Yes, she had passed this way.
Only a little farther to the main road where her driver should be waiting.
Her heartbeat returned to normal.
The shadowed brick path wandered between campus buildings.
Just a little bit farther.
Crash. The sound of exploding glass sounded over her head. Instinctively Rebecca ducked against the rain of glass fragments.
Squinting, she lifted her head. Someone was running toward her. A dark shape. Adrenaline made her blood run cold.
Dear Lord, watch over me.
The person stopped near her, the face impossible to make out in the heavy shadows under a large hood. When the person lifted an arm as if to strike her, Rebecca cowered and tiny explosions of light danced in her line of vision. Her eyes darted around, searching