Trusting The Sheriff. Janice Kay Johnson

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СКАЧАТЬ nodded, and asked about physical therapy and whether her headaches were receding. Abby gave him the upbeat answers, refusing to admit that the vibration of the moving vehicle and the occasional bumps had her thinking about hammers again. Just sitting upright tired her.

      But seeing the farm now made her forget her tiredness and every ache and pain. She exclaimed, “Oh, the corn looks almost ripe!”

      White-painted board fencing separated the fields from the gravel road that showed the narrow tracks made by the steel wheels of Amish buggies. The corn stalks stood tall, topped with fluffy yellow silks surrounding the ears. Last year, corn crops throughout the Midwest had dried up with the drought. Aenti Nancy mentioned the weather in every one of her letters, although she would never complain if it were too dry or wet. The Amish accepted God’s purpose, whether they understood it or not. That didn’t mean they wouldn’t be rejoicing in what promised to be a bumper crop this year.

      “Do they grow anything else?” Sam asked, turning into the narrow lane leading up a gentle slope to the house.

      “Yes, of course,” she said distractedly. “Raspberries, strawberries, soybeans. They have a good-sized orchard of fruit trees, and two black walnut trees. And a kitchen garden, of course. Plus, my aunt and uncle raise a few steers each year, and keep chickens. Most of their food comes from the farm.”

      He shot her a look from dark eyes. “I’d never have guessed you came from a background like this. You actually wear that getup? Bonnet and all?”

      “Yes, when I’m here. I didn’t grow up Amish, you know. I just...” There was no reason to explain. She continued, “They wouldn’t say anything if I came for a short visit and wore jeans and T-shirts, but I don’t.” She explained simply, “It wouldn’t be respectful.”

      By the time the car rolled to a stop in front of the white-painted farmhouse with a wraparound porch, two women had rushed out of the front door and a man strode toward them from the huge barn.

      Abby scrabbled for the seat-belt release and the car door handle at the same time, eager to leap out.

      Sam’s hand on her arm slowed her. “Take it easy, Detective. You don’t want to collapse at their feet.”

      She didn’t. She climbed out very carefully and, eyes stinging, fell into her aunt’s arms. “Aenti Nancy.”

      “So glad we were to hear you were coming!” her aunt exclaimed. “Excited, we are.”

      Abby gently pulled free to greet first her cousin Rose, then her uncle, a tall, stern man who nonetheless hugged her and murmured, “You have stayed away too long.”

      She hugged him back, managing to knock his summer straw hat off. He laughed when he bent to pick it up. Abby transferred her gaze to Rose, who was pregnant. Very pregnant.

      “Oh, my! Aenti Nancy told me, but I didn’t know you were so far along.”

      Brown-haired, gray-eyed and tending to plumpness, Rose wrinkled her nose. “The midwife sent me to the doctor for an ultrasound. I’m having twins.” She splayed her hands on her sizeable belly. “I still have three months to go, but the doctor said I won’t make it that long.”

      “Girls or boys?”

      “One of each, he thought.” She beamed. “I drove myself over today even though Matthew doesn’t like me going out now, but to have you home!”

      Hearing her genuine delight, Abby felt her tears spilling over at last. She used the backs of her hands to swipe at her wet cheeks, introduced Sam to her family and allowed her aunt to usher them into the house.

      “Sit, sit!” she told both Abby and Sam, who appeared bemused and a little uncomfortable. A cup of coffee and raspberry pie topped with fresh cream proved irresistible to him, however, and although he stood strong enough to repeat several times that he couldn’t stay for dinner, he did accept containers of food that would probably feed him for several days.

      His mouth quirked as he said goodbye to Abby. “Don’t put on too much weight while you’re here. Wouldn’t want you to get slow on your feet.”

      She laughed and said, “Thank you. For bringing me home. It can’t be what you wanted to do on your day off.” Assuming, her cynical side reminded her, that this hadn’t actually been a working day for him. Good cop, remember?

      “I was glad to do it,” he said, and left.

      Abby sat at the kitchen table, inhaling the smell of good things cooking, very aware of Rose reaching out to clasp her hand, her aunt fussing at the stove and Onkel Eli smiling gently at her from his place at the head of the table.

       Home.

       Chapter Two

      Phone to his ear, Caleb Tanner leaned back in his large desk chair and stacked his booted feet on his desk. He thought it unlikely Mike Donahue had called in the middle of a working day for no reason but to catch up, but so far, all they’d done was chitchat—his mother’s description for meaningless talk. Fortunately, he was a patient man. He didn’t have anywhere he needed to be.

      He and Donahue had known each other as Kansas City PD officers, partnering together in the drug-enforcement unit for a couple of years. Undercover work was hell on marriage or having a family—or even meeting a girlfriend or buddies at a bar to watch football games. Caleb, for one, had decided he wasn’t made for a high-adrenaline lifestyle. He didn’t know what motivated Donahue, but both had ultimately made the move to Homicide, where they’d stayed friends of a sort despite the twenty-year difference between them. They hadn’t been close enough to really stay in touch after Caleb left KCPD and took the job as sheriff of this rural northeast-Missouri county.

      Which made today’s phone call a puzzle.

      “You’re not bored out of your skull yet?” Donahue asked him.

      Thinking of his last few wildly busy days, Caleb laughed. “Don’t have time to get bored. Do you have any idea how shorthanded a department like mine is? When I’m not juggling too few officers to cover shifts, I’m riding patrol to fill a gap, or giving talks to community organizations. I respond to accidents. My two detectives need guidance. When we have anything halfway serious happen, I usually take lead. I give press conferences, deal with the county commissioners, unhappy citizens. Come to think of it, it’s not all that different from heading a homicide squad, except you can keep out of the public eye.”

      “Good thing, considering my general lack of tact.”

      With a grin, Caleb said, “Won’t disagree.” When Donahue didn’t make an immediate comeback, Caleb remarked, “Saw on the news that you had a couple of detectives shot a week or so ago. They yours?”

      The sergeant gusted a sigh. “Yeah, and that’s really why I called. I’m hoping you’ll do something for me.”

      Caleb’s eyebrows climbed. Now, this was unexpected. “And what would that be?” he asked, trying to hide his caution.

      “Has to do with the shooting.” Donahue gave him more detail about the ugly scene in the alley than news outlets had reported. Two young detectives—partners—who’d to all appearances СКАЧАТЬ