Stranded. Debby Giusti

Her vehicle is buried under rubble.” Frank pointed to the spot where the barn had once stood. “She won’t be driving home anytime soon. My sister has a spare bedroom. I invited her to stay the night. The local police don’t have time for anything except search and rescue, and I know Fort Rickman is probably equally as busy. I thought keeping an eye on her here might be a good idea, at least until we get through the next twenty-four hours or so.”

      “Was she injured?”

      “A slight concussion and some cuts and scrapes. Nothing too serious, although she was pretty shook up and not too sure about some details. I’m hoping she’ll be less confused and more willing to talk in the morning.” Frank pointed to the barn. “I’m planning to check out her car if you’re looking for something to do.”

      “Sounds good, but I’ve got to call Becca. She left a message on my cell after seeing video footage about the storm on the nightly news. Give me a few minutes, and I’ll catch up to you.”

      “The last remaining portion of the barn looks like it could easily collapse, so be careful. If you’ve got crime scene tape, I’ll cordon off the area.”

      “Good idea. We don’t need any more injuries.” Colby opened his trunk and handed the yellow roll of tape to Frank.

      He grabbed a Maglite from his truck and patted his leg for Duke. “Come on, boy.”

      The two of them made their way to what remained of the barn. Frank heaved aside a number of boards and cleared space around the rear of Colleen’s vehicle before he opened the trunk.

      Aiming the Maglite, Frank saw a carry-on bag with a plastic badge identifying Colleen’s airline.

      “Let’s check up front,” he told Duke, after he had retrieved the bag and placed it on the ground.

      The dog whined.

      “What is it, boy?”

      Duke climbed over the fallen boards and stopped at the passenger seat, where Vivian had lain earlier. Blood stained the upholstery.

      “You’re upset the woman was injured.” Frank patted the dog’s flank. “I am, too. We need to find out who shot her and why.”

      Bending, he felt under the seat. His fingers touched something leather. He pulled it free.

      A woman’s purse.

      He placed it on the seat and opened the clasp. Shining the light into the side pocket, he spied Vivian’s government ID card and driver’s license. Tissues, face powder and high-end sunglasses lay at the bottom.

      Leaning down, he again groped his hand along the floorboard. This time, his fingers curled around a smartphone. He stood and studied the mobile device.

      An iPhone with all the bells and whistles.

      He hit the home button. A circle with an arrow in the middle of the screen indicated a video was primed to play.

      Colleen claimed to have happened upon the distressed woman, but if the two had arranged to meet, the video might have been meant for Colleen to view.

      Frank hit the arrow, and the footage rolled. A man sat at a booth with Vivian sitting across from him. From the angle, the camera appeared to have been upright on the table, perhaps in a front pocket of her purse with the camera lens facing out.

      The guy didn’t seem to know he was being recorded.

      The audio was sketchy. Frank turned up the volume.

      “You brought the package?” The man’s voice.

      “Relax, Trey. I don’t go back on my word.”

      Trey?

      She slipped a rectangular object across the table. The man nervously glanced over his shoulder.

      Frank stopped the video. His gut tightened. He’d been in law enforcement long enough to know what the small package, shrink-wrapped and vacuum sealed in plastic, probably contained.

      Snow, Flake, Big C.

      Also known as cocaine.

       FOUR

      While Evelyn busied herself in the kitchen, Colleen hurriedly ate a bowl of homemade soup and a slice of homemade bread slathered with butter.

      “A friend is stopping by shortly.” Evelyn wiped the counter and then rinsed the sponge in the sink. “He’s a retired teacher and works with the hospitality committee at church. Ron’s organizing a meal for the displaced folks and the rescue workers.”

      A timer dinged. She opened the oven and pulled out two green bean casseroles and a baked ham.

      “The Amish want to take care of their own, but with so many homes destroyed they’ll need help. Thankfully, I had a ham and fresh vegetables in the fridge, many grown by my Amish neighbors. They also baked the bread you’re eating.”

      “It’s delicious.”

      Finishing the last of the soup, Colleen scooted back from the table and headed to the sink. “I was hungrier than I thought. I’m sure the homeless will appreciate the food.” She rinsed her dishes and silverware and loaded them in the dishwasher.

      “I’d invite you to join us, but you look worn-out,” Evelyn said. “Better to get a good night’s sleep. There will be plenty of ways to get involved in the days ahead.”

      “I’m going back to Atlanta.”

      Evelyn nodded. “That’s right. I didn’t mean to change your plans, but if you decide to stay longer, you know you’re welcome.”

      A knock sounded. She hurried to open the front door and invited a man inside. Returning to the kitchen, she introduced Ron Malone. He was of medium build and height but had expressive eyes and a warm smile, especially when he looked at Evelyn.

      For an instant, Colleen had a sense of déjà vu.

      Shaking it off, she tried to focus on what Evelyn was saying. Something about organizing the food.

      “Colleen was driving through the area when the tornado hit,” Evelyn explained. “Her car was damaged. She hopes to get back to Atlanta in a day or two.”

       Tomorrow.

      “I’m amazed at the immediate response from so many who want to help.” Colleen shook Ron’s outstretched hand. “I doubt the same would happen in Atlanta.”

      “I think you’d be surprised about the number of caring people even in the city.”

      Colleen didn’t share his opinion, but Evelyn’s friend had an engaging manner, and from the way Evelyn was smiling, she must think so, as well.

      “If you don’t mind, I’ll say good-night and head to my room.”

      Evelyn gave her a quick hug. “Hope you sleep well.”

      Colleen didn’t plan to sleep. She planned to do something else, something she didn’t want Evelyn to know about.

      Timing would be important. She needed to be back at the house before Frank came home. He was the last person she wanted to see tonight.

      Once the front door closed and Ron had backed out of the driveway, Colleen left the house through the French doors and scurried across the yard to the path in the woods. Gingerly, she picked her way down the hill.

      A large military tent had been erected since she’d left the triage area. It was located close to the Amish Craft Shoppe and well away from the barn.

      Staying in the shadows, she inched forward, grateful that her eyes had adjusted to the darkness. All along Amish Road, flashing lights illuminated the ongoing rescue effort.

      Glancing back, she saw the glow in Evelyn’s kitchen window like a beacon of hope in the midst of the destruction. The sincere welcome and concern