Amish Christmas Emergency Read online

  It had saved his life, so it was worth it.

  Gavin made his way across the room to the nurse practitioner. Her name was Miss Alexa Grant, the janitor he’d just interviewed had said. She was watching him, her blue-gray eyes wide and uncertain. Her blond hair was pulled back into a clip, revealing high cheekbones and a perfect oval face. She was probably the prettiest woman he’d seen in a long time.

  What was he doing? He was here on police business. There was no reason for him to be noticing if she was pretty or not. Besides, pretty on the outside meant nothing. He knew that too well. And nothing would tempt him to get caught in the emotional trap of romance.

  Not again. The price was too high to pay. His goal here was to find a sniper and protect these civilians. That’s what he’d do.

  “Miss Grant,” he said, halting before her. “I’m Sergeant Jackson with the LaMar Pond PD. I would like to talk with you about what happened here this afternoon. I understand that you helped move the victim.”

  A slight shudder shook her slender frame, but her eyes never wavered. She had courage. He admired courage.

  “Noah Hostetler is a patient here. He had an appointment, but he was late. He’s never late.” She hurried on, a concerned wrinkle forming on her brow. “Please, Sergeant Jackson. Noah has a wife. Naomi. And children. She won’t know what’s happened.”

  “I’ll make sure she’s notified, ASAP.” Gavin shifted the clipboard he was holding. With his thumb, he clicked the pen in his hand several times. He hated standing still. “His driver said the van had slid off the road. They needed to be pulled out of the ditch, which got them running late.”

  “I wondered,” she whispered. “If he’d been here on time, he would have been fine.”

  “You can’t know that,” Gavin said, even though he thought she was right. It did no good to dwell on what might have happened. It couldn’t be changed. No matter how much he wished it could.

  Alexa sighed. It was a small sound, but it contained a wealth of hurt and confusion. “I just don’t understand why anyone would shoot at him. He’s a young father. A husband. His wife makes the best cookies.”

  He blinked at the last comment. “It is possible that the shooter wasn’t specifically targeting Mr. Hostetler. It could have been random. Maybe someone had a grudge against the clinic. It’s fairly new, right?”

  “Yes.” She drew out the word slowly. “I have only been here for a few months. But it was opened within the past two years. The doctor who started it wanted a clinic that those who lived too far from the hospital and those in the Amish community could visit.”

  Gavin talked with the pretty nurse for another few moments before moving on. No one seemed to have noticed anything. The doctor on call had been in the back room doing his dictation. Two of the nurses were out sick. The patients were a mixture of townspeople and Amish, mostly elderly or children with their mothers.

  “Jackson!”

  Hearing his name called, he turned and moved to where Parker was motioning to him. “What’s up?”

  Sergeant Ryan Parker smiled, a slight lifting of the right corner of his mouth. Gavin knew his buddy well enough to know that the smile was practically an announcement that he’d found something important.

  “I just got off the phone with the hospital. The man who was shot?” Gavin motioned for him to continue. “Well, he said something in the ambulance about catching a brief glance of a man with a gun as he was falling. Not a clear glance, mind you. But maybe we’ll be able to glean enough from his statement to get a real lead.”

  That sounded promising. He wasn’t going to get his hopes up, though. If the man hadn’t gotten a good look, well, it might not help at all. It wasn’t as if a man would stand out carrying a gun during hunting season in Pennsylvania.

  “How’s he doing? Our victim?”

  Parker shrugged. “I’m not sure. He was being prepped for surgery. The person I talked with did feel that it was a good sign that he was conscious and thinking clearly. His wife has been contacted and is being brought to the hospital. We should know more later on today.”

  “Did you get the scene on your body cam?”

  Parker gave him a thumbs-up. “Done. I already sent it to the station. We can go through it there. See if anything stands out.”

  “Okay. I guess we’re done here then. Meet you back at the station.”

  Parker smiled and departed. Gavin zipped up his coat. He hesitated before leaving. Surely that nurse, Miss Grant, would appreciate hearing that her patient was still alive. Before he could talk himself out of it, he walked over to her. She was talking to the men who were covering the broken window with plastic. When she saw him, she halted her conversation and moved away from them.

  “Sergeant?”

  “Jackson. Or Gavin.” Now why had he said that? It wasn’t like they needed to be on a first-name basis. And besides, very few people called him Gavin. Okay, make that three people called him Gavin. His mom, dad and his brother.

  But Gavin hadn’t talked to his brother since Sam had betrayed him in the worst possible way.

  Get it together, Jackson. He’d promised himself after Sam and Lacey’s betrayal that he’d never let himself be humiliated that way again. His parents were concerned that he’d wind up alone. Well, maybe he’d be alone, but at least he’d know that he was living his life on his terms. That no one was taking advantage of him.

  So why was he inviting a complete stranger to call him by his first name? He’d always hated his name.

  She smiled briefly. It was a very tired smile. “Gavin, then. I’m Alexa.”

  He changed his mind. He liked the way his name sounded when she said it. He really needed to focus.

  Touching her lightly on the elbow, he pointed to an area away from the others in the room. Alexa seemed to understand. She led him behind the receptionist’s counter. Turning to face him, she raised an eyebrow and waited.

  “I know you were worried about Noah Hostetler. I wanted to let you know that he made it to the hospital. He’s going into surgery, but he was conscious and alert. His wife is on the way to join him.”

  “Oh!” Her blue-gray eyes glittered with unshed tears. “Thank you so much for letting me know. I was worried about him.”

  He reached out and patted her shoulder. It was an awkward movement. Her eyes widened, and she jerked back slightly, flushed. He dropped his arm instantly, feeling like an idiot. What was he thinking? He had never been the touchy-feely type. It just wasn’t his style. He’d blame it on exhaustion. His shift was supposed to have ended two hours ago, but between the accident and now this shooting, he would be on the job for at least two more hours before he could head home and sleep.

  “Hey, Alexa, what is this? It looks like you had a delivery,” the receptionist said.

  Something flashed in her eyes before she averted them. Was it embarrassment? Fear? Whatever it was, she didn’t look happy to be receiving a delivery. In fact, she looked downright annoyed about it. She looked at the box the receptionist, Megan, pointed to with a scowl. Something was going on here. Although, it really was none of his business. The flowers were probably from an ex. He glanced at her left hand. No rings. Not even an indentation. So she probably wasn’t married or recently divorced.

  “When did that get here?”

  “I don’t know. I just saw it sitting here.”

  “Miss Grant!” A man in a doctor’s coat strode up to them, scowling. “Haven’t I asked you not to get your deliveries here? This is a medical facility!”

  “Yes, Dr. Quinton. I’m sorry, but I have no idea who’s sending them.”

  Well, that was interesting.

  The doctor wasn’t appeased. “Tell the florist to stop making deliveries here then.”

  “Yes, Dr. Quinton. I told the florist that. Last week. This is from a different florist. One from out of town.”

 
; The man huffed. “See that it doesn’t happen again.” He turned abruptly and left. Alexa tossed the narrow box on the counter. It bounced, and the lid fell off. A single red rose dropped onto the countertop. A note was in the box. She picked it up. The color drained from Alexa’s face. Concerned, Gavin stepped forward and grabbed the note from her shaking hand.

  “It’s your fault he’s dead. You’re mine. Don’t forget it again.”

  TWO

  Alexa accepted the bottled water that Gavin brought to her with a smile of gratitude. She needed to have something in her hands to keep them from fidgeting. She sat in the conference room at the LaMar Pond Police Department. Sergeant Parker seated himself in a chair on the other side of the table. Gavin stood right inside the door. The rose and the note she’d received had been whisked away into evidence. She didn’t complain. If she never saw another rose again, that would be great. She never would have guessed that her day would have turned out this way.

  Unscrewing the cap, she lifted the bottle to her lips and took a long drink. She hadn’t realized how thirsty she was. How long had it been since she had last eaten? Too long. She had not had a chance to grab her lunch, and then things had gotten crazy. She needed something soon if she didn’t want her blood sugar levels to crash. She wasn’t feeling dizzy or confused yet, although she was a bit shaky. That could be from the shock of the morning’s events, though. But what if it wasn’t? She wasn’t fatigued, though, which was a good sign. She had her sugar tablets in her bag, but she should eat something too.

  “Do you need anything else? Something to eat?” Gavin inquired.

  She smiled at him, relieved. “If it wouldn’t be too much trouble. I was really sick years ago and developed type two diabetes. I’m feeling a little shaky. It’s probably nothing, but I don’t want to take the chance.”

  Gavin’s eyes widened with alarm. “You have diabetes? Hang on!” He bolted out the door. She stared at the empty doorway, mouth open. She hadn’t expected him to react like that. A chuckle from Sergeant Parker drew her attention back to the room. He shrugged when she lifted her eyebrows at him. Well, she might as well make use of the time. Opening her purse, she found her testing kit and quickly pricked her finger to test her levels. She grimaced at the number on the small screen. Definitely too low. Hopefully, Gavin would bring her something she could use. A few minutes later, Gavin returned. He had a tray in his hands. “I went to the cafeteria and found some orange juice for you.” He took it off the tray and handed her the carton.

  Gratefully, she accepted the juice and opened it. The juice was sweet and cold. Finishing it off, she tossed the empty carton in the garbage can.

  Gavin tossed to the remaining items on the tray. “I also got some food for you, seeing as you missed lunch. Eat what you want. Don’t worry about whatever is left.” He noticed her kit and nodded. “Good. I see you’ve already tested.”

  She examined the food he’d brought, pleasantly surprised. This was a man who knew diabetes. Salad, some sort of plain lean meat—turkey or chicken, she couldn’t tell which—and a small cup of applesauce. Her nutritionist had told her to limit her carbs, but make sure her meals were centered around protein and veggies. Interesting. Judging by his reaction, he’d dealt with someone with type two diabetes before.

  “Do you need anything else?” He hovered near her. If she said she did need something else, he’d probably run out the door again to get it. She quickly tried to put him at ease.

  “No, thank you, Gavin. I’m good.” She flashed a smile his way before picking up a bite of the meat. Chicken. She was being fanciful, but she could practically feel her blood sugar level stabilizing again as she chewed.

  Nodding, Gavin proceeded to close the door. It was time to get down to business.

  Sergeant Parker threw Gavin a look that could only be described as surprised. Why? Because she addressed the other cop by his first name? Was that wrong? He told her to. She decided that whatever it was, it wasn’t important.

  A laugh trickled out of her. It was a laugh filled with stress and nerves and very little humor. “I feel like I’m in trouble here.”

  “Nah.” Gavin shrugged. “We just need to figure out what we’re dealing with to keep you and everyone involved safe.”

  Peeking up under her lashes, she watched as Gavin stalked around the table to sit across from her. He was not a man who liked to sit; she could see that immediately. Even though his pose was casual—leaning back against the chair, long legs stretched out under the table so that his feet popped out next to hers—she could see the tension that danced across his broad shoulders. He had a careful smile on his face, but his jaw was rigid.

  No, Gavin Jackson was a man who liked to move.

  Not that she could blame him. She’d prefer to be almost anywhere than sitting in a police station right now, no matter how gorgeous the sergeants were.

  Heat crept up her face at the thought. Great. Did they notice? Sergeant Parker was writing something on a tablet. Good. And Gavin...was staring right at her, head tilted, a half grin on his face. Wonderful. Well, she certainly wasn’t going to tell him she’d been thinking about him. Hopefully, he wouldn’t ask.

  He shrugged and sat up a bit straighter, pulling his legs back to his side of the table.

  “One thing about all this that might be to our advantage is that our sniper obviously thinks Mr. Hostetler is dead.”

  “That’s a good thing?” she blurted.

  “Absolutely,” Parker answered. “If he thinks his target is dead, then Hostetler is easier to protect.”

  She nodded slowly. She could see that. If her admirer—she shuddered—thought that Noah was dead, he wouldn’t go after him again.

  “Alexa.” She raised her gaze to Gavin’s face. The smile was gone. “How long have you been getting flowers from someone?”

  How long had it been? She bit her lip as she considered. “I moved here in August. So I guess they started late October. Not frequently. The first time I received a rose, I thought Megan had brought it in to spruce up the receptionist’s counter. There wasn’t a note or anything. It sat there for a day before she asked if I wanted my flower. They’ve been coming every two weeks. At first I thought the whole secret admirer thing was really corny.” She took a sip of water, giving herself time to organize her thoughts.

  Gavin shifted in his seat. “You looked irritated when the delivery came. Was there something about the flowers that made you uncomfortable or nervous?”

  “Nervous? Yeah. I was afraid my boss would fire me. He’d been okay the first time. But as they kept coming, he grew angrier with each delivery. I don’t know why it bothered him so much, but I called the florist that had been used for the last delivery and told them not to accept any more for that address.”

  “Were all the flowers from florists?”

  Shaking her head, she answered, “No. It was about half and half. I’m not sure how the others were delivered. I would come to work and find them.”

  Sergeant Parker was typing on a laptop. She couldn’t tell if he was paying attention or not.

  A moment later, she got her answer. “Well, this last one wasn’t from a florist, either,” he said.

  “The name on the box,” she began.

  Gavin looked over at the laptop. “That name on the box is for a florist in Chicago. No way the flower was from there.”

  She cocked her head at him. “Why not? I’ve received flowers from there several times. Plus I used to live near Chicago. When my fiancé died fifteen months ago, I remember seeing flowers from Bressler’s at the funeral home.”

  She definitely did not like the look on Gavin’s face.

  Shaking his head, Gavin turned the laptop so it was facing her. The image on the screen was a building that had been decimated by a fire. A hollow sensation blossomed in the pit of her stomach. The headline read, Bressler Family Florist Destroyed by Arson.


  “The place was never rebuilt,” Gavin informed her.

  It felt as if the air had been sucked from the room. “When?” she managed to gasp out. “Does the article say when the shop burned down?” She ignored the sympathy on his face. She didn’t need sympathy. She needed answers.

  “Yeah,” he answered after scouring the article again. “It burned down three years ago. The arsonist was never caught. The owners had an apartment right above the store. It was destroyed also. Three bodies were found when the fire was investigated. The owners and their son had apparently all perished in their sleep.”

  She slumped. The flowers she’d received had been after the florist shop was long gone. She’d never checked. Another thought struck. “What does it mean that there were flowers from that place at Brett’s funeral?”

  “It means you might have a stalker. It also means that your stalker may have been the same person who burned down the building. At the very least, we know he had access to the building.”

  Setting the bottled water on the table, she covered her face with her hands. Suddenly, she was so tired. Lethargy seeped into her skin and worked its way down her body. A shiver caught her by surprise. It was difficult to tell if she was shivering because it was cold or if it was a delayed reaction to the horrific events of the past few hours.

  “Hey, Alexa.” Gavin’s voice brought her back to the present. “We will find whoever this nutcase is. You know that, right? We will do everything we can to protect you.”

  She nodded, more to make him feel better than because she believed him. After all, how would they find someone if they had no idea who the person could be? Or why the person was fixated on her.

  Sergeant Parker closed his laptop. “Do you have any thoughts about who could be stalking you?”

  She racked her brain to come up with possible suspects, but no one came to mind. “No, sorry. I can’t think of anyone. I want to go home.”

  All she wanted to do was to go home, lock the doors and the windows, and snuggle with her cat on the couch. Maybe she’d even call her brother, Allen. Although he’d no doubt ask her what was bothering her, as she never called him when something wasn’t wrong. Her brother loved her, but he was so much older than her and lived so far away that he didn’t give her too much thought. She received a Christmas card every year from his wife and a phone call on her birthday. He’d never even seen her apartment. No. She’d be better off dealing with this alone.