Free A Prayer for the Night by P. L. Gaus

away.”
    Ellie carried the carafe into the hall. She came in with fresh water in the pot, set up the drip basket, and switched the machine on. To the sheriff, she commented, “I know she’s already eighteen or so, but maybe you ought to consider an Amber Alert.”
    Robertson eyed his dispatcher-secretary and nodded. He tossed his pencil into a can on his desk and said, “I know. But I’d like to wait until I’ve heard from the DEA people. Don’t want to foul their nest.”
    Ellie countered, “Amish kids aren’t ever drug dealers, Bruce. You’re wasting time worrying about the DEA.”
    Robertson studied Ellie’s determined expression and tapped out a drumbeat on his desk with his knuckles. “Look, Ellie,” he said. “We’ve got one Amish kid shot through the head, and we’ve got another one grabbed by strangers in a white SUV. Sara herself told the professor, here, that Abe Yoder and John Schlabaugh had drug connections in Columbus. That’s going to fall under a DEA taskforce concern. They’ve got a Mobile Enforcement Team working down there, and they’ve started an investigation up here. So I can’t jump the gun on this one.”
    Ellie planted her fists on her hips and squared up to the sheriff’s desk.
    Branden smiled at her determination and said, “Maybe she’s right, Bruce.” He’d seen Ellie take on the big sheriff before.
    She was in the habit of speaking more directly to the sheriff than most of the deputies did, especially when she disagreed with him, and she knew from long experience that he used his great bulk and gruff personality mainly as command tools. She also knew he listened to her when she took a stand on an issue. Calmly, she said, “Are you gonna make the call, or do I have to?”
    The first genuine smile of the day appeared on Robertson’s face. He rapped his knuckles on the desk again and said, “I’ll have you do it, Ellie. Set it up ahead of time, and then I’ll tell you when to release it to the press.”
    “That’s better,” Ellie said, and turned and walked out to her front desk down the hall.
    Branden said, “She’s right, Bruce.”
    Robertson faked ire, and couldn’t hold the stern expression. Smiling, he shook his head and said, “One day I’m going to win an argument with that woman.”
    “You might as well just give her a raise, and get it over with,” Branden said.
    Cal Troyer came in from the outer hall and asked, “What’s Ellie smiling about?”
    Robertson grunted, and Branden said, “She won a face-off with our ponderous sheriff, here.”
    Cal looked back and forth between the two men. “Something I’d enjoy?” he asked.
    “We’re going to put out an Amber Alert on Sara Yoder,” Robertson said.
    “Good,” Cal said, and took a seat in a straight-backed chair in front of Robertson’s desk. “Irvin Raber just dropped me off. He’s going to put his whole district at our disposal.”
    Branden asked, “Can he round up the other kids in Schlabaugh’s group?”
    “Says they’ll all be in this afternoon.”
    “They’re coming here?” Robertson asked.
    “That’s the plan.”
    Branden said, “Can he get us into Schlabaugh’s place, Cal?”
    “We can meet him out there today,” Cal said. “Two o’clock. He told me where the place is.”
    The intercom buzzed and Ellie said over the crackle of the old system, “Ricky’s here. He’s been asking around out by Saltillo.”
    Robertson punched his intercom button and said, “Send him back, Ellie.”
    Ellie said, “You’ve also got Missy Taggert on line one.”
    Robertson picked up his phone, punched line one, and said, “What have you got, Missy?” and then listened to his wife, saying, “Right. Right. OK.”
    As he hung up, Niell came in and took a seat next to Cal in front of the cherry desk. Branden returned to his leather chair beside the desk.
    Robertson said, “Missy’s got Schlabaugh cleaned up. Says he was beat up pretty badly before he was shot. Also, he’s got cocaine