Plain Danger. Debby Giusti
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advice,” Tyler said to Carrie. “We’re both worried about your safety.”
“Use caution, ma’am,” Owens continued. “As I said before, seems someone wants to do you harm.”
Her face twisted with concern. “But why?”
The cop pursed his lips. “No clue, except it might tie in with the soldier’s death.”
“Or my father’s,” she added.
Tyler needed to learn more about the sergeant major. He wouldn’t give voice to his suspicions, because it would upset Carrie even more, but just as she had mentioned earlier, her father could have been involved in something illegal that could play in to the corporal’s death and have bearing on her accident today.
Inman nodded to Carrie and slapped Tyler’s arm before he slid behind the wheel of his police sedan.
After ushering Carrie to his car, Tyler held the door for her as she settled onto the passenger seat. “I’m grateful Officer Inman responded to the call,” he said as he climbed into the driver’s side. “Someone without knowledge of what happened last night might not see the significance of the accident.”
Her face was drawn and her eyes reflected both fatigue and worry. “How would someone know where I was or which car in the lot was mine?”
“Your out-of-state tags would be easy to spot. Information travels fast in small towns. No telling who knew you planned to visit George Gates.”
She shook her head. “But I didn’t have an appointment.”
“You told him yesterday that you would return in the morning.”
“What if losing the tire was just a random act?”
Tyler sighed. “Having three lug nuts go missing is more than happenstance, Carrie.”
“Then either someone’s trying to scare me off, or it involves Corporal Fellows, as Officer Inman mentioned.”
When Tyler failed to reply, she turned her gaze to the road. “Whatever the reason, the person responsible doesn’t understand my determination to learn more about my father.”
“Might be a good idea to program my cell number into your phone, Carrie.”
“I already have.”
They drove in silence until Tyler turned into the Harris driveway and parked at the side of the antebellum home. He glanced at the barn and the small chicken coop at the rear, seeing movement. His neck tingled a warning.
“Looks like someone’s prowling around your property, Carrie. Stay here until I give you the all clear.”
Before she could object, he slipped from the car and cautiously approached the barn, keeping his right hand close to the weapon on his hip. He stopped at the corner and watched as a man peered over the top of the coop.
“You’re trespassing.” Tyler raised his voice. “Put your hands in the air and turn around slowly.”
The man complied without hesitation. Only he wasn’t much over fifteen, with a shaggy haircut, suspenders and black pants. A hat lay on the ground, along with a bucket half filled with what looked like chicken feed.
“State your name and the reason you’re on the Harris property.”
“Eli Plank.”
His clothing identified him as Amish. “Isaac Lapp asked me to feed the chickens while he and his family are out of town.” The kid blinked. “I have done nothing wrong.”
Tyler realized his mistake. “You can put your hands down, Eli. I didn’t know anyone was helping out.”
The boy lowered his arms. “Isaac has been caring for the chickens since Mr. Harris died. He asked me to lend a hand so he and his wife and Joseph could visit the boy’s Grossdaadi. His grandfather.”
“Where do you live?”
He pointed south. “The next farm. You know my Datt?”
Tyler shook his head. “I’ve seen him working in the fields, but we haven’t met.”
“Tyler?”
Hearing Carrie’s voice, Tyler peered around the barn. She was walking toward them.
“Is everything okay?” she asked.
“Everything’s fine.” He introduced Carrie to the Amish boy and explained the reason Eli was on the property.
“Thank you for taking care of the chickens.” Carrie opened her purse. “I’d like to pay you.”
The boy shook his head. “I was helping Isaac. That needs no payment, but I must go home now.” After returning the unused feed in the barn, Eli waved goodbye and hurried across the road.
“I don’t think Eli is anyone to fear.” Carrie watched as the boy approached the two-story farmhouse visible in the distance.
“Probably not, in fact, it’s doubtful any of the Amish are involved, but you never know. Remember Corporal Fellows was a neighbor.”
She tilted her head. “You’re a neighbor too.”
He nodded. “The difference is that you can trust me. I’m going back to post this afternoon to talk to Corporal Fellows’s first sergeant. He worked in the same unit as your father. If you want to join me, I’d be happy to show you around Fort Rickman.”
She hesitated for a moment and then nodded. “What time?”
Tyler glanced at his watch. “After lunch. Say one o’clock.”
“I’ll be ready.”
* * *
Ty pulled his SUV to a stop in front of the large white home with the tall columns and yesteryear appeal. He stepped onto the driveway, rounded the car and climbed the porch. The front door opened before he had time to knock.
Carrie stood in the doorway, looking far too pretty in a flowing skirt and matching sweater. She had changed out of the rain-damp clothes she’d worn this morning. With a nod of greeting, she grabbed a jacket from the rack in the foyer and stepped onto the porch, closing the door behind her.
He reached for the coat and helped her slip it on. “The sun’s out, but it’s still chilly and damp.”
“Thanks.”
He pointed to the door. “It’s locked, right?”
She nodded, then dug for keys in her purse. “But I’ll engage the dead bolt.” Flicking a worried glance at him, she added, “Just in case.”
“That’s right.” Ty didn’t want to belabor the point, but he was relieved that she understood the need for caution.
“Do you think Corporal Fellows’s uniform may have made him a target?” she asked.
“You’re concerned terrorism might have been involved?”
“Probably a long shot, but Senator Kingsley talks about some of the groups in the Middle East targeting young men and some women here in the States. Homegrown terrorism, lone wolf, whatever you want to call it, he believes we’re going to see more acts of aggression and violence in the days to come.”
Although Tyler hated to agree with the senator, he knew his assessment was right.
“I don’t understand,” Carrie continued, “how people can be brainwashed into thinking that killing has a greater good.”
“They’re looking for something to believe in, to give them an identity. A cause bigger than themselves. Without a good foundation of faith and morality, kids can confuse evil for good, especially when the message is coated with affirming rhetoric.”
“Sounds as if you know what you’re talking about.”
He