you think my brother’s worries had anything to do with your investigation? It’s not likely, right? He didn’t know anything.” Dread washed over her as they locked gazes, an unreadable emotion in his eyes. Shaking his head, he cut a sideways glance toward his mother. She took a bite of scrambled eggs despite the knot in her stomach.
A teenage boy dressed in a blue shirt, pants with suspenders and a straw hat burst in through the back door. Despite a scolding from his mother, he raced from one window to the next.
“Hey, Samuel, what’s going on out there?” The legs of Eli’s chair scraped across the hardwood floor as he stood up.
The teenager leaned on the window’s ledge and peered out. “There’s a big truck with a long pole on it. One of the English is carrying something big on his shoulder and they’re coming this way. Dat told me to get in the house. To tell Mem and Katie Mae to stay put.”
Eli strode toward the front door and yanked it open. When Anna reached his side, she was struck by the hard expression on his features. Eli was a formidable man. A cold chill ran down her spine despite the warm breeze.
A camera crew stood a few feet from the porch steps. A well-coiffed woman with a blond bob and a microphone in hand took a step forward, doing a quick check of her shoes as if she had stepped in something. “Can we speak to someone regarding the plane crash?”
Eli glared at her until she lowered the microphone and gestured to her cameraman to turn off the camera. She pointed the mic at Eli. “Do you live here?” She rearranged her lips into a phony smile. “Help us out here. I need some footage for the evening news.”
Eli jerked his chin toward the street. “Take footage from the road. This is private property.”
“We’d like to interview someone. We’re working several angles.” The woman persisted. “At first we thought it was a cruel twist that a plane crashed in the middle of an Amish field. Two different worlds colliding.” Her lips quirked. “And, I think a lot of people would be surprised to learn of the thriving Amish community in western New York.”
“They can read about it in the guidebooks.” Eli started to close the door. The woman raised her voice. “We learned Tiffany Christopher was critically injured in the crash. I’m sure you’re aware they’re a prominent family in this area.”
Anna froze and held her breath. She had the sensation of standing on the ocean’s edge about to be clobbered by a giant wave. The reporter’s focus turned toward her. “I was told the pilot’s sister was in town.”
Eli held his hand in front of Anna protectively.
“Do you know—” the reporter consulted her notepad “—where we could find Daniel Quinn’s family? His sister?”
Seemingly in an effort to intimidate, Eli moved toward the reporter. “I asked you to leave.”
The reporter tilted her head. “I thought maybe we could get a comment from the sister. To clear his name.”
Tiny white dots floated in Anna’s line of vision. “What are you talking about?”
“Mr. and Mrs. Christopher have alleged the man piloting the plane was unstable. That he had suffered from post-traumatic stress disorder and was drunk when he took the plane up with Tiffany on board.” The pounding of her heartbeat in her ears nearly drowned out the reporter’s allegations. “I understand there was a history of violence in his family.”
Panic pierced Anna’s heart. She stepped forward and wrapped her hands around the smooth railing for stability. “My brother died in the crash. Let him rest in peace.” Tears clogged her throat, making it difficult to speak. She didn’t want her family’s tragic past splashed all over the news again.
“Your brother?” The reporter’s eyes lit up, but she obviously already knew who Anna was. “Would you be willing to go on camera?”
The implications ran through her mind. She didn’t know anyone in this small town. Maybe if people knew she was here they’d help her piece together what her brother was doing in Apple Creek that had him spooked.
Keenly aware of the camera trained on her, she inhaled deeply. Daniel wouldn’t have risked his life by drinking before flying. None of this made sense. She wished she could rewind time. If only she had kept in touch with her brother.
Anna walked down the porch steps and stared straight into the camera. “My brother, Daniel Quinn, died in the plane crash. If anyone knows—” she started over “—if anyone knew my brother, please contact me.” After she rattled off the digits of her cell phone number, Eli placed his firm hand on her shoulder. If his touch was meant to be a warning, it came too late.
An internal voice scolded her for announcing her cell phone number on a newscast, but right now she didn’t care. She had nothing to lose. Worse case, she’d get a new cell phone number after things calmed down. “I want to talk to anyone who saw my brother early yesterday morning or the night before his flight. Or anyone who had ties to my brother while he was in Apple Creek.”
She was desperate to shed some light on his frame of mind. Had he gone off the deep end with his conspiracy theories? Twin ribbons of shame and grief twisted around her heart. Daniel had always looked out for her. He even saved her life when she was twelve years old. Tears burned the backs of her eyes. It was too late for her big brother, but she owed him this much—to clear his name in death.
“Was it a scheduled flight?” The woman’s hawkish eyes shifted from hers to Eli’s and back.
This time Eli answered. “Neither Miss Quinn nor I have any information regarding the investigation. You’ll have to talk to the sheriff.” He lifted his chin. “Now, if you’ll please respect the privacy of the family who lives here, we’d appreciate it.”
The reporter lowered her microphone and offered her business card to Anna. “If you’d like to do a full interview, please call me.” She pursed her lips. “I’m sorry about your loss.”
“Thank you.” A dark part of Anna’s heart suspected the reporter took pleasure in other people’s misfortune. It made for good news.
Eli’s solid hand rested on her shoulder. She resisted the urge to lean into him for support. After the news crew crossed the road and started filming the crash site, she looked up at him. “Do you think I made a stupid mistake?”
“Sometimes you have to go with your gut.”
A mirthless laugh escaped Anna’s lips. “You don’t know me very well. I’m not one to shoot from the hip.”
Seeming to regard her carefully, he rubbed a hand across his whiskered chin. “Will getting answers help you sleep better at night? Bring you peace?”
She searched his brown eyes, feeling an unexpected connection as if he understood her pain. “I hope so,” she whispered.
Eli brushed a knuckle across the back of her hand, the motion so quick she thought she imagined it. “You’re not convinced?”
Anna shrugged. She turned and climbed the steps, the wood slats of the porch creaking under her weight. Katie Mae appeared in the side yard and placed a wicker basket on the grass. Bending at the waist, she lifted a wet dress and pinned it to the clothesline. Anna stood transfixed as Eli’s younger sister completed the
