Amish Christmas Search Read online

  An Amish girl’s disappearance is a mystery...and the clues lead straight into danger at Christmas.

  Convinced her friend didn’t run away as the police believe, Lizzie Kauffman searches for the truth—but someone will kill to keep it hidden. Now the Amish housekeeper and her friend Caleb Zook are on the run for their lives. And if they want to find their missing friend, Lizzie and Caleb must figure out a way to survive the holidays.

  USA TODAY Bestselling Author Debby Giusti

  “Are you saying I shouldn’t try to find Emma?”

  “I’m saying be careful.”

  A shot fired, the glass window shattered, and the reporter gasped. Blood oozed from his arm.

  Lizzie screamed.

  “Run.” He pointed them toward the back door. “Through the kitchen. There’s a rear exit. Go now so you can get a head start. Hurry.”

  Caleb grabbed Lizzie. They raced through the kitchen to the car and exited the parking area by way of the alley.

  She glanced back. Another round of gunfire erupted.

  Her heart pounded. “Are they following us?”

  “I don’t see anyone.”

  Caleb accelerated and turned north at the intersection. “We’ll take the long route back to Pinecraft.”

  “Will we be safe there?”

  “I’m not sure you’ll be safe anywhere in the city. Like Jeb said, you need to get away before they catch you.”

  And if they caught her...what would happen then?

  Debby Giusti is an award-winning Christian author who met and married her military husband at Fort Knox, Kentucky. Together they traveled the world, raised three wonderful children and have now settled in Atlanta, Georgia, where Debby spins tales of mystery and suspense that touch the heart and soul. Visit Debby online at debbygiusti.com, blog with her at seekerville.blogspot.com and craftieladiesofromance.blogspot.com, and email her at [email protected].

  Books by Debby Giusti

  Love Inspired Suspense

  Her Forgotten Amish Past

  Dangerous Amish Inheritance

  Amish Christmas Search

  Amish Witness Protection

  Amish Safe House

  Amish Protectors

  Amish Refuge

  Undercover Amish

  Amish Rescue

  Amish Christmas Secrets

  Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com for more titles.

  Amish Christmas Search

  Debby Giusti

  I will sing of the mercies of the Lord for ever: with my mouth will I make known thy faithfulness to all generations.

  —Psalms 89:1

  This story is dedicated to doctors and medical professionals who sacrifice their own well-being to care for the sick and suffering, especially those infected with COVID-19.

  May God bless them and keep them in His care.

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Dear Reader

  Excerpt from Christmas Witness Conspiracy by Maggie K. Black

  ONE

  “I’m running out of time,” Lizzie Kauffman moaned as she reached for the polishing cloth and rubbed it over the silver teapot. Her housekeeping job at Thad Thompson’s estate in Sarasota, Florida, would end Saturday, and she had yet to find information about Mr. Thompson’s twenty-five-year-old adoptive son, Andrew.

  The memory of what had happened three years ago continued to haunt her. The police had been convinced Andrew was out of the country the night her best friend, Emma Bontrager, had gone missing.

  With a heavy heart, Lizzie regarded her own reflection staring back at her as the silver began to shine. She knew the truth about that night, but law enforcement had failed to listen when a young Amish girl on vacation with her family claimed the son of one of Sarasota’s most prominent businessmen had kidnapped her friend.

  Once the teapot gleamed, she returned it to the sideboard and swiped the cloth over the sugar bowl. If only the memory could be wiped away as easily as the tarnish.

  What had happened troubled Lizzie, filling not only her dreams but also her waking hours with unanswered questions about Emma. Eventually, Lizzie had left her family and her Amish community in the North Georgia mountains and made her way back to Sarasota, spurred on by the need for closure. In spite of the odds and grateful that her name had never been released to the media, “Elizabeth” Kauffman had wrangled one housekeeping job after another until fate—or Gott—had seemingly led her to the housekeeping agency that eventually resulted in temporary employment at the Thompson residence. Exactly where she needed to be in case Andrew came home.

  Lost in the painful memory, Lizzie startled as the door leading from the Thompson dining room swung open, pulling her back to the present as Nadine Cavanaugh stepped into the kitchen. Like Lizzie, the other housekeeper was dressed in a blue shirtwaist uniform and white apron.

  “My feet are killing me,” the older woman lamented. “But I finished ironing the damask cloth and placed it on the table for Saturday’s announcement party.”

  Approaching the sideboard where Lizzie had arranged the pieces of silver she had already polished, Nadine nodded her head in approval. “You’re doing a fine job. How long before you’re finished?”

  “The tray’s my last piece. I just need to tidy Mr. Thompson’s office before I call it a night.”

  “He should give you an early Christmas bonus, hard as you’ve been working.” Nadine tsked. “Course, I doubt that will happen.”

  The doorbell chimed.

  Nadine wrinkled her brow. “Who would be stopping by this late at night?”

  Lizzie dropped her polishing cloth. “Mr. Thompson’s in the library. I’ll get the—”

  Nadine held up her hand. “Keep working. I’ll answer the door before I leave. See you tomorrow.”

  Hearing Nadine open the front door, Lizzie reached for the silver tray and rubbed it with the polishing cloth.

  Moments later, the door slammed shut with a bang. Heavy footsteps crossed the grand foyer and headed to the library in the south wing of the stately home.

  Nadine scurried back to the kitchen, eyes wide and concern written over her weathered face. “Andrew’s come home.”

  Lizzie’s heart lurched. “Mr. Thompson’s son?”

  Nadine nodded. “The black sheep of the family, and I’m not spreading gossip. I’m telling the truth. Mr. Thompson adopted Andrew after he and Mrs. Thompson married, but that boy always gave him a hard time. After Mrs. Thompson passed, everything got worse.”

  The older housekeeper lo wered her voice. “From the smell of him, Andrew’s liquored up and ready to pick a fight with his dad. I don’t like you staying behind when he’s in the house. You want me to help you finish?”

  “Go home to your family. I’m done polishing and will be right behind you.”

  “Bless you, child, but be careful. Don’t rile Mr. Andrew when he’s drinking.” She shook her head. “He gets nasty mean when he’s under the influence. You sure you’re okay?”

  “Go on, Nadine. I won’t be long.”

  The woman waved a farewell and continued to mumble under her breath as she left the house through the back door.

  Lizzie had to work quickly. Since her first day of employment at the Thompson estate, she had been watching and waiting, but Andrew had never shown up nor had his father mentioned his wayward son, as if Andrew had disappeared that night along with Emma. Over the last few weeks, Lizzie had come to the painful conclusion that her search might have been for naught.

  Now that Andrew had returned home, she needed to learn as much as she could about where he had been and what he had been doing for the last three years. If only he would also provide a clue to Emma’s disappearance.

  After arranging the coffee-and-tea service on the silver tray, she carried it into the dining room and placed it on the buffet table decorated with red bulbs and Christmas greenery. The door to the library hung open.

  Mr. Thompson’s voice floated through the foyer to where Lizzie was standing. “I told you to stay on the island, Andrew.”

  Her pulse quickened. Getaway Island, located off the coast of Florida, was owned by Mr. Thompson. She had researched his holdings, including the lush tropical resort.

  “It’s been three years,” Andrew shot back. “The police have other people to investigate. Besides, you can’t run my life forever.”

  “As long as I’m paying your bills, you’ll do what I say.” Mr. Thompson raised his voice even more. “Is that understood?”

  Lizzie imagined the younger man staring at his father with defiance.

  “I’m announcing my candidacy for the senate at a small gathering of my most influential supporters here on Saturday night,” Mr. Thompson continued. “I don’t want anything to spoil the evening so keep a low profile, Andrew, and stay out of trouble. We’ve got a problem brewing with that woman, and I don’t want anything you do now to cause the cops to review what happened three years ago.”

  Moaning inwardly, Lizzie raised her hand to her heart, knowing instinctively he was talking about Emma.

  Andrew chuckled. “Wish woman?”

  “You mean which one?” Mr. Thompson scoffed. “You’re drunk, Andrew, and slurring your words. Your mother ensured the Amish girl was cared for, but she would come back and haunt us both if she knew about the others.”

  Had more women disappeared?

  “The island security guards look the other way because of the monthly bonuses I provide.” Mr. Thompson huffed. “But your first mishap here on the mainland has me worried. Your uncle’s worried too.”

  Lizzie moved into the foyer and closer to the library.

  “What’s the problem?” For the first time, Andrew sounded concerned.

  “She’s starting to remember. As if that’s not enough, the state inspectors are snooping around. They suspect Medicaid fraud after finding some discrepancies in the billing system. Warren wants to sell the nursing home.”

  Andrew laughed nervously. “Uncle Warren answers to you, Dad. Or did you forget who owns the facility?”

  “If the woman talks—”

  “She can’t incriminate me.” Bluster punctuated Andrew’s less than emphatic response.

  “Because you beat her to a pulp and almost killed her.”

  Lizzie let out an inaudible gasp and blinked back tears, determined not to cry.

  Mr. Thompson’s voice was ripe with accusation as he continued, “I’ve got this month’s bill on my desk and have a mind to make you pay for her care.”

  “She teased me,” Andrew whined. “And egged me on that night.”

  “She was seventeen, Andy, and Amish.”

  A lump filled Lizzie’s throat.

  “Your mother said her long-term care was our responsibility, but your mother’s gone and I’ve had enough of your tomfoolery.”

  “Don’t worry, Dad. I’ll put an end to the problem.”

  Emma wasn’t the problem Lizzie wanted to scream. Andrew was.

  “Your uncle’s going on vacation after a rehabilitation symposium we’re both taking part in at the end of the week. I’ll fly home Saturday afternoon for the party that evening. Wait until Warren has left the area and I’m back in Florida before you do anything. Don’t mess this up, Andrew. If you make a mistake, I’ll disavow knowledge of her, as well as you.”

  “You disowned me years ago.”

  “If not for your mother, I might have. Although she’s gone, so nothing’s holding me back now. Do this right, Andy, and we’ll continue to keep in touch. Make a mistake and you’re no longer my son.”

  “I don’t know why mother married you?”

  “Like you, she probably wanted my money. Now get out of here.”

  “Only after you open the safe.”

  “What?”

  “I deserve a hefty bonus for my hard work on the island.”

  Mr. Thompson jeered. “The resort was better served before I gave you the assistant manager job.”

  Lizzie’s chest tightened. If she had the nursing home’s address, she could find Emma.

  Pulse racing, she hurried into Mr. Thompson’s office, eased the door closed behind her and shuffled through the papers on his desk. In her haste, she failed to see the brass letter opener that dropped to the floor. She stooped to retrieve the heavy object.

  Her breath caught as she heard the office door open. Rising upright, she turned. Her heart nearly stopped. Andrew Thompson towered in the doorway. The hateful man Emma had gone off with that night stood six-two, with collar-length brown hair and piercing eyes that widened with surprise.

  Mr. Thompson pushed past his son. “You’re still here, Elizabeth?”

  “The silver, sir. I was polishing—”

  “She heard us.” Andrew was beside her that fast. He grabbed her arm. His fingers dug into her flesh. His breath reeked of alcohol and his eyes flashed with anger.

  “Where’s Emma?” she demanded. “I thought you killed her, but if she’s alive, I’m going to find her.”

  He slapped her face. Lizzie reeled backward. Her hip crashed into the desk. Pain shot along her spine.

  “Andrew, no!” Mr. Thompson stepped between them.

  His son shoved him aside. The older man fell to the floor.

  Andrew wrapped his hands around Lizzie’s neck.

  She gasped.

  Mr. Thompson tried to stand. “Stop, Andrew.”

  “She was with Emma that night.”

  “What!” His father’s eyes widened, his face reddened.

  Andrew’s grasp tightened. “I’ll take care of both of them.”

  Struggling to pull free of his hold, Lizzie raised the letter opener and stabbed his neck.

  “Augh!” He dropped his hands and fell back. Blood spewed from the puncture wound.

  Fear clutched her heart. She moaned, frozen in time.

  A warning sounded in her head. Run!

  Without another moment’s hesitation, she fled the office, crossed the foyer, dashed into the kitchen and out the back door. The cool night air greeted her.

  Glancing down at her right hand, she saw blood on her fingers. Andrew’s blood. Her stomach roiled with revulsion. She wiped her hand over her apron and raced across the expansive porch. Her feet tripped down the steps. She caught herself and ran along the servants’ drive.

  “Alert security,” Mr. Thompson’s voice bellowed fr om inside the house.

  Lizzie’s heart pounded so hard she feared it would explode. She saw her bike, grabbed the handlebars and pushed off, her feet pumping as fast as they could go.

  The rear gate hung open. A roar filled her ears as she zipped through the wrought iron opening, crossed the street and headed onto a back road. Less than a minute later, a security car pulled out of the property and onto the street almost directly behind her.

  She peddled faster. Mr. Thompson would do anything to protect his reputation, especially when he was set to announce his candidacy. The only thing that would stop his rise to power was Andrew. His wild living and hunger for young women would wreck his father’s political aspirations.

  Emma was alive!

  Tears of relief burned Lizzie’s eyes along with concern for what her friend had endured. Andrew had beaten her? Lizzie’s heart broke, thinking how Emma must have suffered.

  She wiped her cheeks and swallowed hard.

  Headlights crawled over her. She glanced back, seeing the security vehicle, its bright light on the roof flashing. She turned into a nearby driveway and peddled around the ranch-style A-frame house bedecked with Christmas lights, through the green space and the neighboring property on the next street.

  At the corner, she turned east, cut behind a gas station and sped along an alleyway.

  A dog barked. Keep him at bay, she silently prayed to Gott, whom she had ignored for too long.

  A siren sounded. Its shrill scream in the dark night shoved her heartbeat up a notch. Bile rose in her throat. She pushed on until her hands ached from gripping the handlebars and the calves of her legs burned with fatigue.

  Her apartment was nearby, but that was the first place Mr. Thompson’s men would look.

  What about law enforcement? Would security notify the police, and would they be waiting for her at home? Mouth dry, head pounding, she steered onto a narrow two-lane.

  The nearby highway was awash with flashing lights as if every law-enforcement agency in the surrounding area had been called in. An accident or were they searching for her?

  If so, she didn’t have a chance.

  Unless she laid low until the frenzy of their search died down. A hiding place came to mind. Some distance away, but she was determined to find shelter and safety at least for tonight.