Debby Giusti

Plain Truth


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her to your clinic, then cut the electricity so he could enter in the dark. He attacks her, probably thought he had killed her, which may have been his goal.”

      Ella’s hand rose to her throat. “I can’t imagine anyone wanting to do her harm.”

      “What information could he be searching for in your patient files? Tell me about the girls’ condition.”

      She shrugged. “Childhood enzyme deficiency is a newly emerging condition. There’s a symposium this coming Friday in Atlanta that will focus on a number of conditions, including CED, followed by a charity dinner that will celebrate the research center’s success. The proceeds raised will help Amish families with their medical bills and also fund the clinic to ensure the research continues.”

      “The research center is where your husband worked?”

      “That’s right. The Harrisburg Genetic Research Center.” She pointed to her clinic. “Now if you don’t mind, I need to go inside and assess the damage.”

      Zach held up his hand. “Not yet. The local authorities have to process the crime scene first. You wouldn’t want to contaminate the evidence.”

      “Contamination is something found on a petri dish,” she groused.

      He tried not to smile, knowing she didn’t think waiting on the porch was humorous. Nor did he, but her nose wiggled sometimes when she was upset, which he found amusing, if not charming.

      “Does anyone else have a key to your office?”

      “Just my nurse and nurse-receptionist, but I trust them completely. I’m more inclined to think someone didn’t secure the doors last night. Who was the last one here?”

      “We’ll ask the officers when they arrive. Sergeant Abrams is on the way.”

      Ella rubbed her forehead. “Everything still seems so foggy about the attack. I lost consciousness briefly. Short-term memory loss sometimes follows, which seems to be the case.”

      “Have you remembered anything else?”

      She shook her head. “Only my surprise in finding someone standing by my desk. He raised the light he was carrying, and I was caught in its glare. I couldn’t see his face. Then...”

      Zach saw the anguish in her eyes.

      “I...I remember his kicks. The pain. I couldn’t breathe.”

      “You fought back.”

      “Did I?”

      Zach reached for her hand. “Look at your nails and the scratches on your skin.”

      She glanced down at her broken fingernails and scraped knuckles.

      “Does that surprise you?” he asked.

      “A little, but it makes me glad. Quin...” She hesitated before adding, “My husband claimed I never stood up for myself.”

      “Maybe you didn’t need to assert yourself when he was around.”

      “You mean because Quin kept me safe?”

      Zach nodded. “That sounds logical to me.”

      “From what I’ve seen of you, Special Agent Swain, you are a protector. My husband? Not so much.”

      Her comment about being a protector gave him pause. He hadn’t been able to protect his mother, and while that was long ago and he’d been a young boy, the memory troubled him still.

      “You’re a doctor,” he said, hoping to deflect the conversation away from himself. “You save lives. That’s a big responsibility.”

      “I like children. Being a pediatrician seemed like a good fit, but you’re giving me more credit than I deserve.”

      Before Zach could reply, a patrol car raced along Amish Road and turned into the clinic drive. Sergeant Abrams stepped from the car and nodded as he approached.

      “Doctor.” He glanced at Zach. “Long time no see, Special Agent Swain.”

      “Sorry to call you out again.” Zach extended his hand. In short, clipped sentences he explained the chain of events that had them hanging out on the porch of her clinic.

      “I’d like to go inside as soon as possible to assess any damage that may have occurred,” Ella said.

      “Yes, ma’am. Just as soon as we take some photos and make a sketch of what we find.”

      “We?” She glanced into his car, then raised her gaze as another police sedan approached the clinic and turned into the parking lot.

      “Officer Taylor,” Abrams said by way of an introduction as the driver came forward.

      “Sir.” The younger cop nodded respectfully before shaking Ella’s and Zach’s hands.

      “We met last night,” Zach said with a smile.

      “You brought your camera?” the sergeant asked.

      “Yes, sir. I’ll take pictures inside. Shouldn’t be too long.”

      “I don’t see why I can’t enter my own clinic,” Ella complained.

      “Let us get the photos first. Then I’ll want to talk to you,” Abrams explained.

      “More questions?”

      “Yes, ma’am.”

      The two officers entered the clinic. Ella turned to Zach. “You don’t have to babysit me.”

      He didn’t need to hear the frustration in her voice or see the firm set of her jaw to know the doc was upset. “This is all SOP—standard operating procedure—with law enforcement. It’s not personal, Ella.”

      “Remind me to tell you the same thing when your office is trashed.”

      Perhaps he needed to be more considerate. Getting her mind on something other than her clinic might help.

      Zach pointed to the small house on the property next door. “Tell me about your neighbor.”

      Ella followed his gaze. “Levi Miller and his wife, Sarah, are a nice young couple. They’re expecting their first child. Sarah is a patient.”

      “You deliver babies, too?”

      “I can. The Amish hesitate going to large medical facilities and prefer to have Amish midwives or other local medical personnel assist with their deliveries.”

      “You’ve been here five months, and it seems you have a good number of patients from the charts strewn about the office.”

      “I had trouble at first. After the first couple of families sought my help when their children were sick, word spread. Cash can be a problem for the Amish. Sometimes I’m paid in produce or baked goods, sometimes homemade sausage and milk and cheese.”

      “That hardly covers your mortgage.”

      “No, but I get by.”

      “What’d you do before this?” Zach asked.

      “You mean in Pennsylvania?”

      He nodded. “You talked about your husband, but you haven’t mentioned what you did.”

      “Quin worked for a research clinic that was headquartered in Harrisburg, as I probably told you last night.” She raked her hand through her hair. “I’m still fuzzy on a lot of things.”

      “I thought the Amish were in Lancaster County.”

      “That’s the largest community, but Amish live near Carlisle, as well. Besides, a well-known clinic handles the area around the towns of Intercourse and Bird-in-Hand. Quin’s group covered some of the other areas.”

      “And you?” Zach asked.

      “I had a pediatric clinic in Carlisle.”