I wonder if she’s talking about Eli Schrock. She’s young enough to think of him as an elder.…

Turning away, I pull out my cell and call Suggs. I’m at the door, listening for footsteps when he picks up.

“Eli Schrock, Jacob Yoder, and Jonas Smucker are smuggling people into the U.S. and Canada,” I say without preamble.

“What? Smuggling? Are you—”

“I’m at the old barn a mile or so from Schrock’s place. The deputy isn’t here yet. Dan, you need to get out here. I need help.”

“I’m at Schrock’s house now. No one’s answering the door. You okay?”

“For now.” I’m vaguely aware of the woman trying to get my attention. I hold up a finger, letting her know I need to finish my call. “Yoder and Smucker and another unidentified male are downstairs. I don’t know if they’re armed. If they find me here … I’m outnumbered.”

“Shit. Look, just … hang tight. Stay out of sight. Keep yourself safe. I’ll get someone over there pronto.”

“Roger that.”

I drop the phone into my coat pocket. When I turn back to the woman she raises her hands and backs away. “Nemaye politsiyi. Nemaye politsiyi!”

“Calm down and be quiet.” I snap the words as I go to the door, press my ear against it and listen for footsteps.

She follows me to the door. “The police are bad. They already know about us.”

“The police aren’t bad here—”

“Yes! He comes here, to my room, all the time!”

I turn to her, a chill scraping up my spine. “What? Which police?”

“The big man with red hair. He knows,” she whispers. “He looks the other way.”

Sheriff Dan Suggs is a large man with red hair. My intellect, my sense of loyalty, rejects the idea. Dan Suggs has been the consummate professional; he’s been helpful and accommodating, even protective. I don’t know how reliable this woman is; I don’t know if she’s victim or perpetrator or somewhere in between.

“He comes to my room,” she hisses. “He tells me safe passage isn’t free. That I have to pay. Believe me, he makes me pay.”

I stare at her, my heart pounding. Doubt is a punch between the eyes. Is it possible Suggs is involved? But if that’s the case, why in the name of God would he let the investigation go so far?

Using my cell, I go to the Franklin County Sheriff’s department website and pull up a photo of Sheriff Dan Suggs. “Is this him?”

She narrows her eyes, nods. “That’s him.”

If she’s telling the truth, backup isn’t coming. There is no deputy parked nearby. I’m on my own. If the men downstairs don’t already know I’m here, they will soon …