young woman sounded strained as she drew closer.
Recognition dawned on Naomi’s face, with a hint of relief. “Cheryl.” Naomi moved toward her friend’s voice and stumbled over a lump in the carpet. Dylan grabbed her elbow to steady her.
Christina pushed a chair over. “Sit here. I’ll bring Cheryl back.”
Naomi nodded, relief and exhaustion playing on her pretty face.
Cheryl charged into the back of the clinic dressed in blue jeans and a university sweatshirt. Her red hair was pulled into a long ponytail, her freckles prominent on her pale skin. Relief lit her heavily made-up eyes. “There you are! I was so worried.” She gave her Amish friend’s sweatpants and sweatshirt a once over. “What happened to your clothes?”
Christina watched the young woman intently. “Were you at the party with Naomi?” To Christina’s credit, there was no hint of blame or accusation in her voice. During his law enforcement career, Dylan noticed adults tended to blame teens first, ask questions second.
“Yes.” Cheryl’s lips quivered. “I drove her to the party. Naomi didn’t plan on staying.” A smile touched the corners of her glossed lips. “Usually when Naomi used to go to parties with me she tried to fit in.”
“You mean, she didn’t wear her Amish clothes?” Dylan asked, slipping into FBI interrogation mode.
“No, she didn’t. She’d dress casual. Like me. I’m not Amish.” Cheryl giggled nervously. “Lots of Amish kids break the rules. They’re trying to figure things out.”
“You’ve heard of Rumspringa?” Naomi spoke up. “I lost my way for a little while. I did things—” her voice cracked “—I’m not proud of. But I’m determined to live the Amish Way.”
“Then why go to the party?” Christina asked, studying the young Amish woman with her intense brown eyes.
“I heard Lloyd Burkholder was supposed to be there. I needed to talk to him.” Naomi groaned. “Please tell me he didn’t show up.”
Cheryl shrugged. “I don’t know. I was talking to some friends outside the barn. By the time I went in, I couldn’t find you. Someone told me you didn’t feel well and Ben Reist was taking you to the clinic.”
“Ben?” Naomi’s eyebrows drew together. “I sort of remember. Maybe not...” She bit her lower lip. “Does he have short blond hair?” She touched her own head for emphasis.
Excitement drummed in Dylan’s veins. They had a possible name for the driver who nearly ran Christina over.
“What kind of kid is Ben Reist?” Dylan asked, his tone harsher than he intended. Naomi looked like a scared rabbit and he didn’t want her to dart.
Cheryl laughed, a sound void of humor. “Good kid. I was surprised he was at the party. Not really the partying kind.”
“Do you think he meant to hurt me?” All that Naomi’s question didn’t ask tore at Dylan.
“No way. Ben’s a good guy. Someone said he could tell you seemed out of it and he wanted to get you out of there.” Cheryl’s eyes grew wide. “As soon as I heard, I jumped into the car. I figured you had too much to drink. The party was getting out of control anyway. All the kids were bailing. They were kinda freaked that the sheriff would show up once some underage drunk Amish girl was dropped at the healthcare clinic.”
“I believe she may have drugs in her system,” Christina said, matter-of-factly.
“Drugs?” Cheryl’s voice cracked.
“I didn’t take drugs.” Naomi said without much conviction. “I only had a beer. And I don’t remember finishing it. Dr. Christina thinks someone could have put something in my drink.”
Dylan watched Naomi closely for signs she wasn’t telling the truth.
“Does that seem about right to you, Naomi?” Christina asked.
“It makes sense.” Naomi’s eyes got a faraway look. She glanced at the clock. “I wasn’t there that long and then everything went fuzzy.”
A hint of relief settled into the soft lines around Christina’s eyes. They both must have been thinking the same thing. The time frame didn’t likely allow for a sexual assault. This Ben Reist kid had ushered Naomi out of there before whoever drugged her drink had had a chance to act.
“If Ben is such a nice guy, why didn’t he stick around to make sure Naomi was okay?” Dylan ran through the events in his mind, including the fact that Christina had nearly been run over.
Cheryl shrugged. “Probably didn’t want to get into trouble. Kids don’t always think.” She said it in a way that made him wonder how old she was. “I hear he’s got a scholarship to some big university starting in the fall. I imagine he didn’t want to jeopardize that. Rumor has it he was in trouble with the police earlier this year. He can’t get in trouble again.”
Dylan shook his head, frustrated at the dumb decisions kids sometimes made.
Christina gathered Naomi’s wet clothes. “I’m going to run these through the wash.”
Dylan pulled her aside. “Is that...?” He wanted to ask if that was a good idea. That the clothes might serve as evidence, but he could tell by the look on Christina’s face that she had already waged and lost that battle with the young Amish girl. Even in the case of a possible sexual assault, in New York State the victim had the right to refuse evidence collection. And if Cheryl was to be believed, Ben had brought Naomi straight from the party to the clinic, minimizing the opportunity for such an assault.
His lips thinned and he gave Christina a quick nod.
Christina grabbed Dylan’s arm and pulled him down the hall toward the laundry. She leaned in close and whispered, “I fear sending this sweet girl home in a dirty dress or sweatpants will create far more questions than she’s willing to answer. I think we need to get her cleaned up and see her safely home.”
Dylan nodded, sensing Christina was searching for his agreement.
Christina stepped away from Dylan and they returned to where the young women were standing. “The laundry’s in the back. We’ll wash your dress before you go home.”
An unmistakable look of relief swept across the young Amish woman’s face. “Denki. My mem and dat would ask a lot of questions if I showed up in a wet, dirty dress.”
Point made.
Christina gave the girl a quick nod and disappeared toward the back of the clinic. He heard the unmistakable crank of a noisy knob on a washer and the gush of water filling the tub.
Cheryl put her hand on Naomi’s shoulder. “Going to that party was a dumb idea.”
Naomi frowned. “I thought I could patch things up with Lloyd.”
Dylan wasn’t interested in Naomi’s love life, but he wondered what this Ben knew about Naomi getting drugged. “Do you know where this Reist boy lives? I’ll call the sheriff and have them run by his house. Get a statement.”
Naomi looked up with worried eyes. “I’ll be ruined if the police are involved. My parents will find out. They won’t understand.” She pulled the sleeves of the oversized sweatshirt down over her hands. “I should have never gone to that party. My mem and dat would be disappointed.”
Dylan understood all about disappointing a parent. His demanding father wasn’t exactly reasonable. And his mother died when he was barely eight. She had been the calming force. The reasonable one.
“Here’s the thing...” Christina reemerged from the laundry room, as if she had been giving something considerable thought. “Dylan can help without getting the police involved. Give us the address and we’ll check it out.”
Naomi shook her head frantically. “I don’t remember.”
“Cheryl