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Authors: Amanda Flower
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“What do you say, Humphrey? Are you willing to help me out again?”
Timothy gave me the slightest of nods.
I licked my lips. “Yes.”
The right side of the police chief’s mouth turned up. “Terrific.” She made eye connect with me, then Timothy, and then back to me. “Do me a favor this time—keep me in the loop. You think of or find something important, you call me, night or day.”
“Even on Christmas?” I asked.
Her brows drooped low over her eyes. “Especially on Christmas.”
“Sounds fair,” I said.
On the other hand, Timothy said nothing.
Chapter Eight
C hristmas Eve morning, the Harshberger College campus lay still and dormant under a blanket of freshly fallen snow. The students were home with their families for the next month until the new semester began in mid-January. Only essential faculty and staff were on campus, and as the director of computer services, I was one of those people. Even on Christmas, the computer systems that kept the college moving had to be up and running, from the protective firewall to the campus e-mail.
This was my first Christmas at Harshberger, and I found the quietness of the once-bustling campus both calming and eerie. Since I was new, I opted to be the on-call person during the holiday break, hoping my staff would take their turns during future breaks. Perhaps next year I would have enough money saved to spend Christmas in Italy with my best friend Tanisha. Tee taught English as a Second Language there, and I missed her terribly. We Skyped and e-mailed often, but it wasn’t the same as seeing her in person. Tanisha was more like a sister to me than a friend. Her family took me in when I was fifteen—after my mother died and my father dumped me for a new wife and new life in California.
Going to California to spend the holidays with my father, young stepbrother and stepsister, and my evil stepmother Sabrina was out of the question. Sabrina made it clear I was not welcome. Just a month ago, I had been uninvited to Thanksgiving so that the four of them could go on a cruise. At least she was upfront with her distaste for me.
My father was ambivalent, which was so much worse. The car accident that killed my mother destroyed what relationship I’d had with my father. Mom had spun off the icy road late one winter night when coming to fetch me from a sleepover party. This coming January would mark the eleventh anniversary of my mother’s death.
I stepped into the server room and examined the racks of black and silver boxes. Their little green power lights blinked pleasantly at me. No red flashing lights, no alarms sounding. All was well. At least, in the server room. All was not well in Appleseed Creek. I thought of Katie. To die the way she did, it seemed too cruel. A terrible waste. What could the Amish girl have done to make someone hate her so much to hurt her like that? I found the idea that she had been physically abused deeply disturbing. If Katie had been hurt, what about Anna? Was the younger of the two Lambright sisters in danger? The Amish were particularly closed-mouthed on the topic of domestic abuse. How were Timothy and I supposed to find out what really happened to Katie?
Locking the door to the server room behind me, my thoughts turned to Billy. Should I think of him as Walter now? He had only been Billy to me—and to everyone else in Appleseed Creek. Chief Rose asked us to keep his true identity a secret, because she didn’t want the information to leak in case Billy still hung around the area.
I stopped by my office to mark the log showing that I checked the servers and that all systems were normal. I wasn’t in a big rush to return home. Becky was in the middle of a full-on Christmas frenzy. When we moved to the Quills’ house, I told her that we could have a small Christmas party. I never expected her to jump into planning her first English Christmas party with so much enthusiasm. Our home looked like Santa’s elves had an ornament
Timothy gave me the slightest of nods.
I licked my lips. “Yes.”
The right side of the police chief’s mouth turned up. “Terrific.” She made eye connect with me, then Timothy, and then back to me. “Do me a favor this time—keep me in the loop. You think of or find something important, you call me, night or day.”
“Even on Christmas?” I asked.
Her brows drooped low over her eyes. “Especially on Christmas.”
“Sounds fair,” I said.
On the other hand, Timothy said nothing.
Chapter Eight
C hristmas Eve morning, the Harshberger College campus lay still and dormant under a blanket of freshly fallen snow. The students were home with their families for the next month until the new semester began in mid-January. Only essential faculty and staff were on campus, and as the director of computer services, I was one of those people. Even on Christmas, the computer systems that kept the college moving had to be up and running, from the protective firewall to the campus e-mail.
This was my first Christmas at Harshberger, and I found the quietness of the once-bustling campus both calming and eerie. Since I was new, I opted to be the on-call person during the holiday break, hoping my staff would take their turns during future breaks. Perhaps next year I would have enough money saved to spend Christmas in Italy with my best friend Tanisha. Tee taught English as a Second Language there, and I missed her terribly. We Skyped and e-mailed often, but it wasn’t the same as seeing her in person. Tanisha was more like a sister to me than a friend. Her family took me in when I was fifteen—after my mother died and my father dumped me for a new wife and new life in California.
Going to California to spend the holidays with my father, young stepbrother and stepsister, and my evil stepmother Sabrina was out of the question. Sabrina made it clear I was not welcome. Just a month ago, I had been uninvited to Thanksgiving so that the four of them could go on a cruise. At least she was upfront with her distaste for me.
My father was ambivalent, which was so much worse. The car accident that killed my mother destroyed what relationship I’d had with my father. Mom had spun off the icy road late one winter night when coming to fetch me from a sleepover party. This coming January would mark the eleventh anniversary of my mother’s death.
I stepped into the server room and examined the racks of black and silver boxes. Their little green power lights blinked pleasantly at me. No red flashing lights, no alarms sounding. All was well. At least, in the server room. All was not well in Appleseed Creek. I thought of Katie. To die the way she did, it seemed too cruel. A terrible waste. What could the Amish girl have done to make someone hate her so much to hurt her like that? I found the idea that she had been physically abused deeply disturbing. If Katie had been hurt, what about Anna? Was the younger of the two Lambright sisters in danger? The Amish were particularly closed-mouthed on the topic of domestic abuse. How were Timothy and I supposed to find out what really happened to Katie?
Locking the door to the server room behind me, my thoughts turned to Billy. Should I think of him as Walter now? He had only been Billy to me—and to everyone else in Appleseed Creek. Chief Rose asked us to keep his true identity a secret, because she didn’t want the information to leak in case Billy still hung around the area.
I stopped by my office to mark the log showing that I checked the servers and that all systems were normal. I wasn’t in a big rush to return home. Becky was in the middle of a full-on Christmas frenzy. When we moved to the Quills’ house, I told her that we could have a small Christmas party. I never expected her to jump into planning her first English Christmas party with so much enthusiasm. Our home looked like Santa’s elves had an ornament
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