mother.”
Levi let out a ragged breath. “I am relieved.”
“You know the twins?” Zach asked.
The Amish man steeled his gaze. “Twins are easy to recognize, Special Agent Swain. They have been getting treatments at the Children’s Care Clinic for some months now. I have a farm and work outside. Of course I have seen them.”
“What would you call your relationship with their mother?” Zach remembered the grandfather’s words about the Amish man who seemed much too attentive to his daughter.
“There is no relationship.”
“You haven’t tried to reconnect with Mary Kate?” Zach asked.
“A married man has eyes only for his wife.” He looked at Ella. “If you need my help, let me know.”
“Thank you, Levi.”
With a nod, he turned and walked back to his property.
Zach watched him enter his house. “There’s something Levi’s not telling us.”
Ella lowered her gaze, as if she, too, had something to hide.
Zach stared down at her. “Is there something about Levi that I need to know?”
“Of course not.” After an abrupt about-face, Ella pushed open the door to her clinic and stepped inside.
Zach glanced back at the Miller farm. A cold wind whipped across the expansive pasture area and along the road, picking up dust and blowing it in the air.
What was the truth about this Amish community and the doctor who had left her practice in Pennsylvania to move South? Was she being less than forthright? If so, why?
* * *
All her work had seemingly been for naught. Standing at the entrance to her clinic, Ella was overcome with despair. She had tried to create an environment where Amish children, used to the simple basics in their own homes, could be comfortable even when they were sick and upset. Surrounded by medical instrumentation and equipment, they could easily become wide-eyed and fearful, which only made their parents more on edge. The adults were often torn between their concern for their sick children and their own hesitation to trust the new doctor.
As she gazed at the disarray, Ella wondered what they would think if they saw the place in such a state of chaos. Her hard work up to this point and her dreams of what the clinic could be in the future had been all but dashed by the hand of a madman.
“Who would do this?” she asked, struggling to articulate even that brief question. Wrapping her arms around her chest, she glanced at the officers, who had stopped processing the crime scene and were staring at her.
Did they think she was becoming hysterical?
Zach entered the clinic behind her and touched her arm. Was he offering comfort or was he, too, afraid she might be ready for a breakdown?
“Who was the last person in here last night?” Ella demanded, feeling a swell of anger. She stared at Abrams. “Did you lock the door? Did you secure my clinic or did you leave the door open and vulnerable to the madman, who returned to find what he’d wanted the first time?”
They continued to look at her as if she were crazed, and perhaps she was—crazed with frustration at all that had happened.
Abrams stepped forward. “I asked one of my officers to make sure your clinic was secure. I trust he did as I directed.”
Officer Taylor moved closer. “The assailant could have had a key. You know he cut your power, ma’am. It wasn’t the storm that caused your outage. Someone tampered with your wiring. We got it working last night, and I checked your generator. The spark plug had been unscrewed. No wonder it wouldn’t engage.”
“So someone was prowling around here before the storm?” She shivered at the thought of the assailant stalking her and her clinic.
“Seems that way. Is there anyone who’d want to do you harm?”
“No, not that I know of.” She glanced at Zach, hoping he would offer some other reason for the attack.
“The young mother, Mary Kate Powers, might have some bearing on the case,” he volunteered. “Her husband recently returned from the Middle East. Her