Plain Cover-Up. Alison Stone

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Plain Cover-Up - Alison  Stone Mills & Boon Love Inspired Suspense

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one way or another. Over the years, Christina had taken pride in helping a handful of abused women escape their abusers and create new lives elsewhere.

      The adrenaline surging through her veins was making her thoughts race out of control. She didn’t even know what happened to Naomi, yet. Maybe Christina had completely misread the situation.

      Naomi struggled to sit up, her bonnet askew on her head. Christina held Naomi’s arm and helped her to a sitting position. She stood close, watching Naomi for any signs that she was going to pass out or be sick. She conducted a few tests to check for a concussion. Christina suspected the young woman had been drugged. The normally chatty Amish woman’s eyes were wide with fear. A tremble seemed to ripple through her when she locked gazes with Dylan.

      Understanding better than most, Christina smiled apologetically at Dylan. “Can you give us privacy for a minute?”

      “Sure.” Unspoken understanding stretched between them. “I’ll be in the hallway.”

      “And Dylan,” Christina added, “don’t call the sheriff.”

      The Amish woman gasped in relief. “Denki.” Thank you.

      The door clicked closed and Christina turned back to the young woman. “Naomi, who did this to you?”

      Naomi averted her eyes and shook her head. “Neh.”

      “What happened?”

      Silence.

      “You can trust me. I’ll help you.” Christina brushed her fingers along a tender bruise on the young woman’s cheek. Naomi flinched.

      “I don’t know.”

      Christina took a steadying breath. “You don’t have to be afraid.” A memory never far from the surface weighed on Christina’s lungs. With determination, she focused on what was right in front of her. Naomi. Her patient. Christina could help her.

      Christina had always focused on what was right in front of her. Her education. Her career. Never deviating from the path.

      It’s what kept her sane.

      Naomi looked up and fear flickered across her face. “I went to a barn party with a friend.” She blinked slowly. “I don’t remember much else.”

      Christina clasped her hands in front of her, suspecting Naomi was intentionally being evasive. However, she feared Naomi had been drugged. Perhaps someone had spiked her drink. Or maybe she had been unaccustomed to drinking and had overdone it?

      “Have you been drinking?” Christina cringed at the unintended accusation in her tone. Even if Naomi had been drinking, she didn’t deserve to be attacked and dumped like yesterday’s garbage in a parking lot.

      Christina’s mind flashed back to her college roommate’s accusatory tone when Christina began to relate her own story after an incident with a man she had trusted.

      Are you sure you weren’t a tease? I can’t believe he’d do that to you. He’s such a nice guy. And a friend of your brother’s. He has a wife and kid. Why would he attack you?

      As if any of those reasons would stop a predator. As if her roommate’s disbelief and uncertainty had made what happened to Christina less real. Despite the unease quivering in her stomach, Christina placed her hand on Naomi’s shoulder. “Even if you did drink, you didn’t deserve to get attacked.”

      “One beer,” Naomi said, her voice hoarse. The Amish woman studied her clenched hands in her lap, shame radiating from her hunched posture. “I didn’t plan to drink. I wanted...” Her voice trailed off as if she was carefully measuring how much to reveal.

      Christina had been drinking the night she was attacked. Perhaps too much.

      A night of hazy memories and accusations.

      “Naomi, you can trust me. I’ll do whatever I can to help you. Tell me what you remember.”

      The Amish woman tugged at a blue and purple yarn bracelet on her wrist, such a small thing but it showed she was straddling two worlds. “I told you everything I remember.”

      “Who brought you here?” Christina asked, trying to coax out the answers Naomi was holding back.

      Naomi shrugged. A single tear trailed down her cheek. “It’s all so fuzzy. Where did you find me?”

      “Outside in the rain.” Christina tilted her head to study the young woman. A deep line creased Naomi’s forehead as if they were discussing someone else altogether.

      “You don’t remember?”

      Naomi shook her head again. “My Englisch friend Cheryl brought me to the party, but I lost track of her.” Her eyes flashed wide. “It wonders me if something happened to her.” Naomi’s entire body trembled and her lower lip had turned a disconcerting shade of blue.

      “Is Cheryl the friend who sometimes drives you to work?”

      “Yah. Do you know where she is?”

      Christina placed her hand on Naomi’s arm. “We’ll find out. First I need you to change into this gown for an exam.”

      “Neh, neh...” Naomi fisted the fabric of her dress at her chest. She shook her head and what little color she had in her cheeks visibly drained.

      “You have a right to refuse any exam, but if someone hurt you,” Christina spoke softly so as not to further spook her young Amish friend, “we need to collect evidence.”

      “Neh, I don’t want anyone to know. Please.”

      Christina’s heart broke for the young woman and she fought to remain calm. She patted the sweatpants and sweatshirt sitting on the exam table. “Would you give me a urine sample? It would help us determine the drugs in your system. You can use the bathroom right there.”

      “I didn’t take drugs. I don’t do drugs.”

      “Someone could have slipped you something in a drink.”

      “I only had one beer.” Naomi bowed her head. “I shouldn’t have had that.”

      “No, one’s blaming you.” Christina smiled. “I’d like to do a test to check.”

      Naomi seemed hesitant at first, then agreed.

      “Okay, then. Take care of the sample, then change into these dry clothes. We’ll chat once you’re dry.”

      “You’re not going to call the sheriff?”

      Again, Christina carefully phrased her reply. “No, not unless you agree. I believe we should, but I’ll respect your wishes.” She smiled again, trying to reassure Naomi that she could trust her. “Take care of this—” she tapped the specimen container “—then get dressed.”

      Naomi looked up at her with trusting eyes and Christina worried that she wasn’t worthy of such confidence. Such trust. Trust she had repeatedly sought from other victimized women who had come through her clinic over the years.

      It

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