Fall from Pride (13 page)

“Then please give her these, and I'll be going to drop things off to the Schrocks. They're expecting me.”

He took the sack. “The fire marshal know about this picture idea?” he asked, still blocking her way out.

“He does know you're a double hero now, so he will probably be glad to also be interviewed for the story, if that's what you mean. I guess you know, Mr. MacKenzie was really impressed with you,” she added, and dared to step closer to him, hoping he'd move back and let her pass. She figured showing indecision or fear was not the way to deal with this man, especially since she now had another piece of proof he could be the arsonist, at least on the second fire.

Sarah could almost hear the wheels of his thoughts grinding away in that big, bald head. Did he have enough in his bean to be able to write that note with the Bible quote? Surely, he and Cindee would not be working together, even though she had easy access to the artificial fireplace logs at the hardware store. But if Mike Getz was not guilty, why didn't he just let her leave?

He shuffled aside and she edged by, fighting to keep from fleeing. She didn't relish having to tell Nate that she'd taken too much of a chance here. In case Mike checked up on her, she'd now have to tell Peter Clawson, whom she tried to avoid, that he should get a picture of Mike. But, as he'd said, it should be near the ruins, because he couldn't have spotted the fire from this backyard.

 

“Let me make sure I've got this right,” Nate said to Gabe. “Ray-Lynn Logan went to the Esh house and found no one home. Then she came over to the barn, looked up at Sarah's painted quilt square and then came into the barn. You two took off so you didn't see what happened after. You're sure?”
he demanded, realizing too late that his buddy-buddy tone had evaporated. “You didn't tell Sarah any of that, did you?”

“I didn't tell anyone and told Barbara not to, 'cause we were up there together when the barn dance was at my place.”

“Sure. Sure, I understand that.”

“Sarah will tell you I didn't say a thing. You can ask her if you want, but she went to take some food
Mamm
made with some of those—” he pointed to the sack on the console between them “—to the Schrocks. I heard her tell
Mamm
she took some for Cindee Kramer, too.”

“To the hardware store?” Nate asked, but he knew better. Cindee lived with Mike Getz, so he could only hope Mike wouldn't be home on a Friday morning. Sarah obviously meant to drop them off en route to the Schrocks. And he didn't like that idea at all.

“Gabe, we've got to switch seats. I've got to go somewhere.”

“If you arrest Mrs. Logan, don't tell where you heard that, okay? She's a friend of Sarah's and pays
Mamm
and Lizzie good wages.”

“I'm not going to arrest Mrs. Logan. Move!”

As they changed places—Gabe would be sad to see that Nate was going to put him out at his house—Nate swore under his breath and, from the front seat, reluctantly lowered the antenna that would allow him to make or receive calls on the two-way. He might be overreacting, but letting Sarah in on so much—using her, really—had endangered her. Why hadn't she told him she didn't intend to stay on her family's property after what they went through yesterday? With that threatening note pinned outside the place where she slept, didn't she realize the rules in cozy Amish country had all
changed? As clever as she was, his Amish sidekick had clearly not gotten it through her pretty head to be careful.

 

Sarah was nearly to the Schrock house when she heard a loud motor kind of clearing its throat behind her. VERA? Nate had said he would be coming out here after the debris cooled down with a search warrant to sift through the ruins.

She glanced in her rearview mirror. Her insides cartwheeled and not because it was Nate. She saw Jacob's bright red car following her pretty close. He was probably expecting she'd pull over when she saw him, but she had no intention of doing that. If Jacob was following her now, had he been following her earlier? Nate had mentioned they might set a trap, but she hadn't wanted to set one this way. She'd call Nate on this two-way radio right now and tell him exactly where Jacob Yoder was, assuming that was him behind the wheel. The sun still fairly low in the eastern sky glared off the car's front windshield and in her eyes.

Sarah figured she had about three minutes before she could turn into the Schrocks' driveway. Surely, they'd be home. She grabbed the two-way, and hit the quick-dial number Nate had set up for her. Could she keep Jacob here long enough for Nate to get here?

But unlike when they'd practiced, the radio didn't make a sound when she turned it on. Even when she put the number in again, nothing appeared on the tiny screen but the word
Searching.
Maybe Jacob had been searching for her, stalking her. But that note on the Miller barn had been addressed to Nate. This was even more of a nightmare if the arsonist was someone Amish—even former Amish.

The red car's horn sounded twice. She giddyaped Sally faster, while she struggled to punch in the number yet again.
Jacob's car bumped the back of the buggy. Once, twice, then hard enough to shove it into Sally and send both horse and buggy crashing into the water-filled ditch.

AS THE BUGGY SLAMMED INTO THE WATER, Sarah went flying, her hands still on the reins. She went under with a huge splash and came up sputtering and angry. Sally thrashed the surface into waves, trying to get up but was trapped in the traces. Before Sarah could scramble to her feet, Jacob leaped in, too. He grabbed her arm so hard it hurt.

“This is your fault!” he shouted, thigh-deep in the roiling water. “All you had to do was stop.”

“Let me go! You could have killed me and Sally!”

She glanced back into the half-submerged buggy for Nate's phone, but it was gone. Yanking free of Jacob's grasp, she sloshed toward her struggling horse. Thank the Lord, the mare hadn't broken a leg. Though the road wasn't busy, surely someone would come along soon. Then she remembered that Nate needed Jacob's license plate number, so she glanced up and tried to remember it in case Gabe wasn't sure. Jacob moved behind her toward Sally. He helped Sarah free the horse from the buggy so she could stand. Sally floun
dered to her feet, making even more waves. “It wasn't my fault. It was an accident!” Jacob shouted. “
Ya,
one you caused! You caused anything else you shouldn't have?”

“Something else I caused? What's that supposed to mean?” Jacob demanded, this time gripping her wrist so tightly her hand went numb. He shook her hard. “You don't think I had anything to do with the fires? I saw you with him! He's been turning you against me!”

“You've been following me, haven't you, maybe sneaking around at night?”

It wasn't like her to lose control, but since Jacob was guilty of this rash act, he could have left the note on the
grossdaadi haus
and burned the barns, too. She told herself she should talk quietly, not only to calm Sally but to keep him here until someone came along. She should find out where he was living so Nate could question him. But as if he'd read her mind, he said what she feared.

“We can't talk here. Get in the car,” he ordered, pointing at it. “Sally and the buggy will be all right.”

“No. I need to get the buggy towed out. Can you help with that?”

He lunged at her and pulled her so close she could smell garlic on his breath. He hauled her to the side of the ditch, then dragged her, clawing his way up like a wild animal. She saw he had red splotches on his hands but no visible cuts. Paint. Red paint from that threatening note to Nate.

“Jacob, you're hurting me. Let go!” She realized he'd left the car engine running; the driver's door stood open. “You want to talk, fine,” she forced herself to say. “We'll talk right here.”

Seizing her upper arms, he pulled her to him, nearly lifting
her off her feet. Up this close, she really looked at him for the first time in months. His flushed face was unshaven, and gray half circles shadowed his wild eyes. A frown furrowed his brow. He lowered his voice, but he sounded so menacing. She smelled something else on his breath—alcohol?

“We're not staying here. I don't want that nosy
ausländer
MacKenzie or one of my former Amish brethren to come along.” His already-bitter tone turned mocking. “‘Oh, there's Jacob Yoder, under the curse of the
meidung.
We all know he's evil, must have started the fires.' That's what you're thinking, isn't it, Sarah? And you're the one who once said you loved me, trusted me! Now you're listening to him, trusting him.”

He loosed her arms only to seize her wrist and again drag her toward the open car door. He pulled hard, but she twisted the reins she still held around her right wrist so she was anchored to Sally. Her attempt at another calm command of “Let me go,” was drowned by his shout, flecked with spittle.

“I said, get in the car! I'm innocent, and you have to help me. I know who lit the fires, and I'll tell you if you go with me. We'll call the sheriff, explain things to him to get MacKenzie off my back. Sheriff Freeman helped me before, but you'll help me now, won't you, for all we once meant to each other?”

“Stop hurting me. Violence is not our way.”

“Our way!” he exploded again. “There is no ‘our' anymore! I've been banned, banished! You don't think that's a kind of violence? And you're hurting me, too. Now get in this car, or I'll—”

Giving up all attempts at calm, Sarah tried to buck away
from him and screamed once, again. Someone might hear her, help her, maybe the Schrocks or even Mike Getz.

Then, roaring down the road toward them, came VERA. The square shape of the dark vehicle was unmistakable.

When Jacob turned to look, he shouted at her, “Judas! Jezebel!” He shoved her away.

She staggered back to the edge of the ditch, rolled into it and hit the water again, bottom first this time, next to where Sally stood. Despite heavy, soaked skirts and a curtain of drenched hair in her face, Sarah dropped the reins, got to her feet and clambered up the bank again only to see Jacob's car speed away. Realizing Nate might stop for her and lose him, she waved her arms and pointed as Nate slowed.

“It's Jacob. Go! Go!” she shouted.

VERA roared away in pursuit.

 

Nate stepped on the gas pedal and gripped the steering wheel hard. He was livid with Sarah for going out without telling him, for getting in this situation, but she had flushed Jacob out of hiding. He hadn't wanted to use her as bait, but had she done that deliberately? And he was furious with himself for not making her promise to stay home. At least he had Jacob in sight, but the car had a head start, and it was faster than VERA. A car chase was definitely not in his job description.

The red car—some kind of sporty one—must be doing eighty down this two-lane road. What if either of them hit a car or, worse, a buggy? People were out on the roads. He'd lose the trust the Amish had offered him. Police vehicles, even an occasional fire truck rushing to emergencies, sometimes hit and killed innocent civilians. He'd be pulled off
the case; a crash investigation would take precedence over stopping the arsons.

As the red car crested a hill ahead and disappeared, Nate cursed the beautiful terrain again. It screwed up long-distance vision, communications and safety. He should call the sheriff, but he'd left his phone in the back of VERA. As he reached the top of the hill and saw a farm wagon pulling out ahead between him and Jacob, who must have just missed it, he knew the chase was over. He slowed, turned around in a driveway and went back. He wanted to check to see that Sarah was all right, find out what she'd learned.

“You didn't catch him.” Sarah stated the obvious when he got back to where she was waiting. People he didn't know—a man and woman in a buggy—were with her and they'd managed to get Sally out of the ditch.

“I'll get the sheriff after him,” he assured her. “I've got his license plate, and Gabe gave me a lead on where he might be staying. VERA wasn't built for high speed.”

She looked like a drowned cat for the second time in two days, but beautiful nonetheless. Even her hair was wet this time. He was glad the others were there or he would have lost his temper over her endangering herself. She was definitely coming off this case, because if she got hurt he would never forgive himself.

“I'll be fine,” she told him as if she'd read his mind. “These are the Rabers, and they can help us get the buggy out.”

He thanked the couple, then gently pulled Sarah off to the side. “After this,” he told her, “I'm not leaving you alone off your property—maybe not even on it.”

“I had the phone with me but it didn't work—that is, before it went for a swim here.”

“That, at least, was not entirely your fault. Let's blame the hills, or the fact I put the antenna down after I talked to Gabe and he mentioned you were going to stop at Getz's. But I see it was Jacob I should have been worrying about.”

She petted and sweet-talked the horse while he got a rope out of VERA and, with Mr. Raber's help, tied it to the buggy. Reuben Schrock came along the road and together they got the buggy righted and out of the ditch.

Though he could tell Sarah wanted to argue with him, Nate asked Mr. Schrock to take Sally and the buggy to his place and said they'd retrieve them later, because he had to take Sarah to the sheriff to report the incident. “
Ya,
sure,” the bearded church elder told him. Then he added, “You think Jacob Yoder burned the barns, Mr. MacKenzie?”

“We're going to find out and stop him if he did,” Nate promised, then thanked everyone again and hustled Sarah, who was starting to shiver, into VERA. As he went into the back to get a blanket for her, he realized whatever had just happened between Sarah and Jacob meant he had to keep her off the case for her safety and his sanity.

 

Sarah wrapped herself in Nate's blanket. The water quickly soaked it, but he must have known the seat would get wet. Ditch water from her hair and smashed bonnet dripped down her back. Though it was quite mild outside, Nate closed the windows and turned on the heater, but he kept glaring at her as if this was her fault—and, of course, Jacob's desperation aside, it was. And he hadn't even heard that she'd misstepped with Mike Getz today.

“Your career as assistant arson investigator is over,” Nate said, his expression tense and his voice harsh. “He could have
drowned you back there. It's my fault, too. I should have told you not to leave your farm—not that that wouldn't keep someone from coming onto it.”

“I will not be kept a prisoner on or off the farm, even if the arsonist is targeting the barns because of my painted quilt squares. But I don't think Jacob meant to kill me. He was trying to make me go with him.”

“Oh, fine. Abduction. And then when he got you alone, what?”

He darted another hard look at her, then hunched over the steering wheel. Though he was chasing no one now, he was still driving too fast.

“I was so angry I wasn't thinking that he could have hurt or killed me,” she admitted. “Actually, when he shoved me into the ditch water, I recalled the horrible time Ella almost drowned.”

“Don't change the subject.”

“But I need to tell you about something else. I may not have found out whether Jacob was guilty of arson, but it might not be him who's lighting fires. I found out Mike Getz couldn't see the Schrock barn from where Cindee said he did, unless she was confused. So someone lied, and why?”

“I knew it! I hope Getz wasn't there when you trespassed.”

“Unfortunately, he was, but I covered for why I was there. I told him I was going to ask Peter Clawson to take a picture of him again, and he fell for it, not to mention I had a sack of half-moon pies for them.”

Nate muttered something under his breath. “Sarah!” he said through gritted teeth, “you've been a big help to me, but you've got to keep clear of all this so you don't get hurt. You have not been trained or sworn by the fire marshal's office!”

“Sworn? Sworn
in,
you mean? No, only sworn
at
by Jacob and now you. Nate, I'm scared the barn burner's targeting not only my people but my paintings—me somehow. But I'm in a good position to find things out.”

“No way. You let me do that. So did Jacob say anything about resenting your paintings on church leaders' barns?”

“No, but he wanted to talk more. He was very upset that I've been working with you.”

Nate muttered under his breath again and she was just as glad she didn't hear. “Did he say anything that could tie him to the arsons?” he asked. “He no doubt blames you and your people for what he's done to himself.”

“Well, if I'm not helping you anymore, I guess I shouldn't say, but
ya,
he called me a traitor and more. Still, his being desperate to talk to me and angry at me for helping you doesn't mean he's guilty of arson. He denied he had anything to do with the fires but said he knew who did. That's possible, isn't it?”

Nate kept flexing his fingers on the steering wheel, opening them, then gripping it hard. She wondered if he wished he had hold of her neck instead.

“Isn't there a saying,” he demanded, “‘With God, all things are possible'?”

“So Mr. Nathan MacKenzie can quote scripture, too. I wasn't sure you had a religious bone in your body.”

“You think I'm some sort of heathen? My foster mother took me to church. I'm a believer.”

“But not a believer in accepting help from anyone.”

“Sarah, why are we arguing?”

“Because you know you need me—for helping solve the arsons, I mean—and you don't want to admit it.”

“I just can't stand it that you could have been hurt.”

“You were thinking of setting a trap for whoever wrote that note on the Millers' barn. That's what happened, only I was almost trapped instead of Jacob.”

“I refuse to use you as bait. But did Jacob admit to that much—painting the note on the Miller barn?”

“He didn't have to. He has dried red paint on his hands. But I suppose, unless you do some kind of chemical test on it, he could say he was just painting over scratches on his red car and spilled a bit of it.”

“I admire the way you think things through. But I'm expecting the sheriff to go right out to arrest Jacob for assaulting you at the least, and we can keep him locked up that way.”

Sarah kept noticing the way fields and trees, farms and woodlots, raced past so much faster than in a buggy. But that's the way she felt her life was going now, kind of out of her control, and it scared her silly, as did what she had to tell Nate next. He had accepted the Plain People's form of insurance, even their lack of lightning rods and fire alarms, but would he understand her refusal to help him with this?

“Then,” Nate went on, “he can be detained so I can question him. Also, I'll want a complete statement from you of everything Jacob said.”