Plain Pursuit. Alison Stone
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“It doesn’t make sense. Does any of this have to do with your cold case?” Anna was afraid of his answer. No way had her brother been involved with a child’s disappearance. But she had to ask.
Eli cut her a sideways glance. “I don’t know. He was reluctant to tell me what he knew, if anything. He seemed afraid.” She sensed Eli wasn’t telling her the entire truth.
The car came to a stop at the intersection. As frustration welled inside her, a sign on the lawn of one of the churches at the corner came into focus. No Jesus, No Peace. Know Jesus, Know Peace. Slipping her hands between her knees and straightening her arms, she wondered why she couldn’t instinctively shut off her worries and rely on God. Only her faith could get her through this.
Curiosity nudged her. “Growing up in an Amish community, faith was a big part of it, right?” The entire concept fascinated her. “Do you still go to church?”
Anna studied Eli’s profile. A muscle worked in his jaw. He gave her a measured stare. “What is the old saying? Don’t discuss religion and politics.”
“I didn’t mean to offend you.”
He stared out the windshield. The silence between them grew thick with tension. Obviously she had touched on a sore subject. About a half mile past the center of town, they turned into the driveway of a well-maintained home. Pots of yellow and purple mums lined the porch steps. Large windows overlooked the front yard.
Eli navigated the driveway until he reached the back of the house. He jerked his chin toward a three-car garage and a set of steps hugging one side of the structure. The furthest bay was open. “Your brother rented the garage apartment.” He parked and climbed out. Anna joined him around the front of the vehicle.
A man about her brother’s age stepped out of the open garage, wiping his hands on a dirty rag. Something flashed in his eyes when he saw Anna. His unshaven face and buzz cut made her think of her brother’s appearance when he got off the plane six months ago from his service in the Middle East. The man wore oil-stained jeans and a ripped T-shirt. It appeared they had pulled him away from his work.
“You must be Daniel’s sister,” he said, his voice gruff. “I’d see the resemblance even if Eli hadn’t contacted me to tell me you were on your way.” He stuffed the rag in his back pocket. “Sorry. That was horrible what happened to him. I hear my cousin Tiffany’s putting up a good fight, though.”
Anna’s eyelids fluttered. “Oh, I’m sorry. Tiffany is your cousin?”
The man gave her a solemn nod.
“Did you know my brother well?” she asked, eager to get any information she could.
He jerked his thumb toward the steps. “Daniel rented out the garage apartment. He was busy on some photography project.” He narrowed his gaze. “I think he was putting photographs together for a book or something. People seem to be fixated on the Amish.” He hooked one thumb through his belt loop. “It’s beyond me.”
“Did he tell you about his project?” Anna asked. Her gaze drifted to Eli, who stood off to the side with his hands loosely crossed over his broad chest.
“Yeah, he seemed eager to wrap up the project and move on all of a sudden. I figured he needed to finish the job to get paid.” He rolled his eyes. “There’s not much to do in this town.”
“Do you have the key?” Eli asked. “Anna would like to see her brother’s apartment.”
The man reached into his pocket and pulled out a ring filled with keys. “Sure, man.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t catch your name,” Anna said as they moved toward the stairs leading to the second-story apartment.
“Tom Hanson.”
Something jogged in her memory. “Did you know my brother from when he went to college in the area?” Something about the way he was staring at her—almost through her—unnerved her.
“A little bit. He and my cousin Chase, Tiffany’s brother, were tight.” Jangling the keys, he scrunched up his face, thinking. “They were in the same fraternity at Genwego. I wasn’t the college type. I went to trade school. I do pretty good as a handyman and jack-of-all-trades for my aunt and uncle.”
“Tiffany Christopher’s parents?”
Tom nodded. “My mom and Aunt Beth are sisters. My mom married some loser and moved up to Buffalo a bunch of years ago. Aunt Beth and Uncle Richard have always looked out for me.”
Anna glanced at the main house, her chest growing tight. “Is this...their house?” She should have thought of that the minute he introduced himself as Tiffany’s cousin. She imagined the back door swinging open and Mrs. Christopher emerging, fury in her dark eyes.
Eli smiled gently and mouthed the words, It’s okay.
“Doctor Richard Christopher, Senior, lives here. He’s like a grandfather to me. I hang around in case he needs anything.” He held up his hands. “Ah, don’t worry. I’m the black sheep of the family. It’s my Uncle Richard that runs this town. I’m just another one of their servants.” He smirked. “Long story.” He shrugged. “Actually, I don’t mind. It’s steady work. Good pay. Not much else going on jobwise in the booming metropolis of Apple Creek.” Tom separated a key from the ring. “Here.”
Eli took it from him. “We’ll keep this. I’ll return it in a few days after Anna goes through her brother’s things.”
Anna’s attention shifted to the stairwell leading to her brother’s apartment and she suddenly felt light-headed. Eli flashed her a concerned glance and she forced a smile.
“I think I should hold on to that key.” A deep line marred Tom’s forehead.
“It’s fine,” Eli assured him. “It’s the beginning of the month. Daniel’s paid up to the end, right? I’ll hold on to the key.”
“I guess so.” Tom stuffed the key ring back into his pocket.
The wood creaked under their weight as they climbed the steps. At the top landing, Eli had reached out to insert the key into the lock when the door swung inward. Anna’s heart plummeted. Eli held out his arm to stop her forward momentum. “Wait here.”
She covered her mouth to stifle her shock. Papers littered the floor. A lamp was upended. Couch cushions had been tossed across the small space. Anna’s shoulder hit the doorframe, her knees having gone weak, and she fell to the floor.
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