Anathema

by Colleen Coble

  “Wait a minute—we haven’t secured the scene!” Matt grabbed at the deputy’s arm, but Blake shook him off. “The geocacher who found the body said it was in the woods behind the barn.”

  “But the perp could be hiding here.” Blake moved through the barn door.

  Matt didn’t object. Maybe it was better to have him out of the way. “I’m heading to the woods,” he called. “Backup should be here any minute.”

  He turned and surveyed the sparse grass between the outbuildings and the house. Laundry hung from a line strung from the house to the top of the barn. He noticed a pulley that allowed the occupants to run the clothes up the line and back. A buggy sat parked partway under a tree.

  “Amish,” Blake said with a twist to his mouth. “Our schools are in trouble because of them. We ’ve lost funding since they moved into the area.”

  Matt stepped to the back porch and pounded on the door. “Sheriff ’s department,” he called. Only silence answered. Nothing stirred in the yard. Matt veered across the lawn, grabbed Ajax’s leash, then headed toward the back. Dry grass crunched under his shoes, and the wind moaned through the treetops. He eased behind the barn, but the area was empty. No back door here. He darted across the empty pasture to the woods. Blake sounded like a herd of elephants following him.

  Matt turned and frowned. “Keep it down!”

  “Maybe it’s a prank call,” Blake said.

  “I don’t think so. Look at Ajax.” He pointed to his dog. Tension showed in every line of the muscular German shepherd’s body. Ajax strained at the leash. “The caller said about fifty feet inside the woods, on the other side of a meadow.”

  Matt couldn’t hear anything above the wind and the crunch of dead leaves. Ajax dragged him on. A loud buzzing began to ring in his ears, and he knew what he ’d find before he stepped past the meadow into the shade of a large oak tree.

  Flies rose in a cloud at their approach, then settled back onto the body, a man dressed in the typical Amish garb of dark pants, a white shirt, and a straw hat. The man was smooth-shaven, so he must not have been married. The heat had caused the body to begin the decay process, and the stink of death coated Matt’s nose.

  “Looks like poison,” Blake said. “Probably strychnine from the way he’s contorted.”

  Matt retreated. “Don’t disturb him until forensics gets here. Call it in.”

  Blake nodded and stepped back into the clearing. Matt tuned out his partner’s yammering on the radio and glanced around the wooded area. A few fallen maple trees stretched across a dry stream. Newly sprouted leaves danced in the wind, and a brilliant cardinal fluttered over his head.

  Nothing else stirred. Considering the strong odor and the flies, the perp was long gone. He needed to talk to the guy who found the body. The man had been too freaked-out to wait for their arrival. He had given his name, address, and phone number, though. That would be Matt’s first stop when he was finished here.

  Blake ’s heavy footsteps tromped back through the brush. “They’re on their way. Weird case. Wasn’t there something similar some years back?”

  Matt nodded. “An Amish man and woman were poisoned. Their only kid, a daughter, found them. This setup looks the same. Except their bodies were covered with a quilt.”

  “Were there any leads?”

  “We found a neighbor dead from the same poison he ’d supposedly used on the family. Though it never made sense to me. I was never sure the guy we found dead was the killer. I think he might have been another victim. The case is still open, but we never found a motive—or the quilts stolen from the family’s home.”

  “What happened to the daughter?”

  “She married the detective in charge of the investigation and left town.” Matt’s voice grew clipped. He should have tracked them down. He was still mad about Reece ’s rude departure. And the gun he ’d never returned.

  Blake jerked a thumb toward the body. “You think it’s connected?”

  The thought had been hovering in Matt’s head. “It’s been ten years. You’d think the killer would have kept on killing.” If they were connected, maybe he’d be able to close two cases at once.

  Blake ’s cell phone rang, and he pulled it out.

  “Nice phone,” Matt said. “Expensive, though.” He ’d had his eye on the iPhone but had never been willing to plunk down that much dough.

  Blake grunted, then answered the phone. “Hi, honey,” he said.

  Matt listened with half an ear. It was probably Matt’s sister, Gina, Blake ’s wife. He stooped and studied the ground for clues.

  SPEAKERS BLARED OUT the names of passengers with messages waiting for them. Her cell phone in her hand, Hannah sipped her latte in the LaGuardia Airport. The show had gone well, but she was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to sleep in her own bed tonight. Asia had gone to the restroom, and Hannah toyed with the idea of calling Luca. He ’d be shocked to hear from her. Maybe he’d heard of her book. She hoped not, though, knowing that by writing it she broke every principle of Hochmut.

  The concept of self-promotion was alien to the Amish. Her cousin would be grieved to know she even had a publicist and sought to promote herself and her book. He would tell her to let God be her publicist or, better yet, to choose a career that didn’t put her in the limelight. Luca and Hannah’s father had built their greenhouse business by providing good service to the community. They’d never taken out an ad in their lives.

  Her hands shook as she flipped open her cell phone and punched in the number. She’d never forgotten it, though ten years had passed since she’d spoken with anyone at that number. Settling the phone against her ear, she took another sip of her hot coffee to wet her dry throat. What would she say?

  The phone continued to ring until the answering machine in the greenhouse picked up and Luca’s familiar voice instructed her to leave a message. She hung up without doing it. This was a conversation they needed to have in person.

  She watched the people walking past. Mothers with children clinging to their hands, fathers carrying babies. Her heart ached with emptiness. How ironic that all she ’d been taught since childhood focused on the importance of family and community, and now here she was at thirty-two without anyone. No close friends other than Asia, who was an employee. Oh, she had acquaintances from the quilting society and at the museum, but no one she could pour out her heart to. No one who understood why she kept herself aloof.

  Sometimes she didn’t understand herself. It should be easy to put down the wall and make herself vulnerable again. But it wasn’t. Living with Reece had shown her how a mask could hide the real person. Trust was hard to find, maybe because she’d never been able to let go of the bitterness and anger she felt toward Reece. And toward Cyrus Long, who had ruined her life. If her parents had lived, she never would have been brazen enough to run off with Reece.

  Her life would be so different today.

  SOME DAYS, LIFE had a way of mocking him. The first day of the investigation had turned up nothing, and all Matt wanted was to take pizza home to his daughter and watch VeggieTales after the sitter left. But when he pulled into the driveway, he saw Gina sitting on the porch swing with Caitlin. Every marriage had conflicts, and she needed to work out hers with Blake, not run to him with every little problem.

  He stifled a sigh and got out of his SUV. “Hey, girls,” he said, smiling down at his daughter. She was the one bright spot in a world gone gray three years ago, when Analise died.

  “I brought pizza,” Gina said. Her smile was tentative, as though she feared he would be upset.

  “I was craving it.” He ruffled the top of his daughter’s hair. “You got a hug for old Dad?” When Gina was around, Caitlin had eyes for no one else. Poor kid missed her mother’s touch.

  Nothing was said about why Gina had come until two hours later, after Caitlin had been bathed and put to bed. “Spill it,” he said when he came back to the living room where Gina sat with Ajax’s head on her lap.

  “Spill w
hat?” She rubbed Ajax’s ears. He wore a blissful expression.

  “The long face. You haven’t said a word about Blake. Where is he tonight?”

  “I have no idea.” Her lips quivered, and she didn’t look at him.

  Matt flopped into the recliner. “Did you try calling him? He ’s probably working late.”

  “What time did you leave him?”

  “About two hours before I came home. I was going over the murder.” He glanced at his watch. Over three hours ago.

  Her lips quivered. “I—I think he ’s having an affair, Matt.”

  Matt balled up his fists. “I don’t believe it. Blake loves you.” He got up and went to the sofa. He started to put his arm around her, then dropped it back into place. They didn’t have a huggy-kissy sort of relationship. But she turned into his embrace and wailed against his chest. He patted her back, but he was bad at this kind of thing.

  “Trust him a little, Gina. He ’ll be home soon.”

  She lifted a tearstained face. “Well, he can come around and find an empty house. I’m leaving him. Can I stay with you for a while, Matt?”

  He dropped his arm. “You know you can, but it would be better for you to go home and work out your problems. Give him the benefit of the doubt. Are you sure this is what you want?”

  “He’s having an affair! I found a hotel bill. And a receipt for a five-thousand-dollar ring. He didn’t give me any ring.”

  “Where ’d he get that kind of money?”

  “I have no idea. But you’re missing the point! It wasn’t for me. He has to have a girlfriend.” She swiped the tears from her face with an angry hand.

  Until now, Matt had thought his sister was overreacting. He didn’t want to think about where Blake had gotten that kind of money. A rash of burglaries had occurred over the past two months. But no, this was Blake. His partner and friend. He ’d never do anything like that. “Maybe it’s a surprise and he borrowed the money.”

  “I don’t care about the money! Would you quit worrying about that? We ’re okay financially. Blake never lets a bill go. The receipt was for two months ago. If the ring were a surprise for me, he would have given it to me already.”

  “Want me to talk to him?” What could Matt say? This mess wasn’t his business. But he couldn’t believe Blake would cheat on Gina—he loved her. “Divorce isn’t the answer. Especially leaving him without giving him a chance to explain.”

  “The Bible says it’s okay when it’s infidelity, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  “Just because it’s okay doesn’t mean you should do it. Analise and I had some rough times too, but we weathered them. I just keep thinking about what would have happened if I’d given up. We would have missed out on some important times together. We wouldn’t have Caitlin either.”

  She gave a huge sigh. “I should have known better than to ask you, Mr. Perfect,” she muttered. She shoved Ajax’s head off her lap and stood. “It’s hard not to give up. He ’s never home.”

  “Look, go home and at least talk to him. I’m sure there ’s an explanation. Give it a shot anyway.”

  Her gaze came up and tears sparkled in her eyes. “Didn’t you hear me, Matt? When am I supposed to talk to him? He’s never home.” She grabbed her purse with quick movements. “I’ve got to go.” She stopped by the door. “Pray for me. I don’t think I can get through this.” She vanished through the door.

  The human spirit could take more than one ever thought it could, but Matt wished his baby sister didn’t have to go through this.

  FIRST THING IN the morning, Hannah and Asia hit the road. Five hours later, they were nearly to Parke County. They’d crossed the Illinois line into Indiana half an hour ago. Hannah’s four cats prowled restlessly in their carriers in the back. Their yowls had grown more outraged in the past hour.

  The last time Hannah had come through here, she ’d been peering out the back of Reece ’s truck as the world she knew fell away. Then, the landscape was still in the grip of winter with an early spring beginning to poke through. Now spring blossoms dotted the green hillsides, and she caught glimpses of covered bridges down several narrow lanes.

  Home.

  The word evoked both dread and longing. She knew what would face her, and the thought was something she’d pushed down into the darkest recesses of her mind for ten years.

  “You okay?” Asia asked from the driver’s seat.

  Hannah slanted a smile her way. “A little scared. I don’t think I could have done this if you hadn’t come with me.” She looked back down at the quilt piece in her lap. Working on it kept her mind from peeking into corners she’d closed off for years.

  “It’s what friends do. Besides, we’ve got to get that book delivered.” Asia’s grin was cheeky. “They won’t eat you, will they?”

  “It might hurt less if they did.” Her heart squeezed at the thought of the reception that awaited her. There would be no slow smile from Luca. And her friends might not talk to her. She missed Sarah. Hannah took a last sip of her iced vanilla coffee.

  “Which way?” Asia asked.

  “Let me look at the map.” Hannah opened the atlas and found the Indiana state map. “I always get turned around with all the roads.”

  “Girl, you grew up here. Your sense of direction is hopeless.” Asia pulled to the side of the road, consulted the map with Hannah, and pointed. “We turn left here.” She resumed driving and took the next road.

  Hannah gazed out the window. “This looks familiar.” The woods crowded along the road, the sun disappearing ten feet into the thick trees. She rolled down her window and breathed in the scent of forest and river. The fields had been freshly plowed, and soon corn would grow so close to the road it would be like traveling through a green cornstalk tunnel. But she’d be long gone by then. The thought hurt.

  “So what is this shunning thing? You’re still family. How can they turn their backs on you?”

  The world never understood. Even though Hannah was about to put herself on the receiving end of a very painful circumstance, she didn’t begrudge her people the right. “They want to make sure the corruption doesn’t spread. If I hadn’t joined the church, there would be no Meidung, but I knelt before the entire congregation and promised to be faithful to our way. I broke that oath when I ran off with Reece. And they love me. They don’t want me to continue on the wrong path.”

  “Have you been in touch with anyone since you left?”

  “Just my aunt. I tried to call my cousin at work the other day, but he wasn’t in.”

  “Why didn’t your aunt follow the ban? She still corresponds with you.”

  “She’s a bit of a rebel.” Hannah laughed remembering her aunt’s small rebellions: curtains at the windows, a landscape picture or two in her bedroom, sending her son, Moe, to the public school. For some reason the bishop had always allowed her the small indiscretions. Mamm said he ’d been sweet on Aunt Nora once upon a time.

  The car crested a hill, and in the valley ahead of them lay the old homestead. Hannah caught her breath, and her lungs constricted. The ten years hadn’t changed it. Luca had given the house a fresh coat of paint recently, and the white siding gleamed in the spring sunshine. The redbud trees along the pond bloomed with purple flowers. Mamm’s bed of jonquils had spread out to take over more of the side yard. Hannah could almost see her mother on the other side of the screen door, her white prayer cap bobbing and weaving as she kneaded bread.

  Laundry flapped in the breeze from a line stretched by pulley from the house to the top of the barn. Two buggies were parked under a big walnut tree. She could imagine it was yesterday she was here last instead of ten years ago.

  “Who inherited the property?”

  “My cousin Luca and I. I’m not sure what he did about that. Likely just took over the farm and greenhouse and is waiting for me to show up someday.” Hannah knew Luca would never take it to the law to try to gain anything.

  “Do you think he ’ll turn you away?”
>
  “I don’t think so. He and his wife won’t be able to dine with me, though. I’ll have to eat alone.”

  “If you haven’t been in touch with him, how do you know he’s married?”

  Hannah drank in more of the sights before answering. The garden had been turned over and planted, but nothing grew yet. The greenhouse billowed with colorful flowers and leafy plants. She could smell the aroma of phlox from here. Horses grazed in the pasture, and she strained to see if Lucy was still there. Her soul leaped when she saw the appaloosa’s familiar spots.

  She dragged her gaze from the familiar sights. “The small clothes on the line. The Amish cherish children and welcome any that God sends them. We don’t use birth control. If he’s married, he has children.” Hannah held the picture of the redheaded girl in her hand, and she studied it again. She longed to find the answer to this riddle today.

  Hannah had no idea whom Luca had married. He’d once had his eye on her best friend, Sarah. The thought of facing Sarah as well as Luca made a sheen of perspiration break out on her forehead. She opened her mouth to tell Asia to drive on past, but it was too late. Asia was already pulling into the driveway behind one of the open black buggies.

  “I thought buggies were enclosed,” Asia said. “The ones I’ve seen in northern Indiana even have lights on them.”

  “My ancestors are Swiss Amish,” Hannah said, her gaze riveted on the screen door that offered a glimpse of movement. “Too much comfort is bad for the soul.” She leaned out the window. “They refused to use lights or warning signs until the state made them. They believe if they have an accident, it’s God’s will. It’s all part of gelassenheit. Calmness in the storm of whatever God brings.”

  “There are the kids,” Asia said, gesturing toward a trampoline in the backyard.

  Two towheaded children bounced on it, both girls, the strings on their bonnets flying in the breeze and their dark blue dresses fluttering around their calves. Hannah guessed their ages to be about five and six. The screen door opened, and a young woman stepped out onto the side porch. Hannah would have recognized those blue eyes and pink cheeks anywhere. Sarah could have been a poster child for a healthy farm girl raised on fresh dairy and vegetables.