With her thoughts swirling, she fell behind the rest of the buggies. The sky darkened, and rain began to patter onto her head. It grew nearly as dark as dusk. The air took on a greenish cast, and she feared a tornado might be in the swirling clouds.
She slapped the reins on the horse ’s rump, and he picked up the pace. As the rain fell harder, she wished her people believed in buggy coverings. She could barely see the road with the water dripping in her eyes. A dark shape loomed ahead in the downpour, and she realized a car without lights was bearing down on her. Did the driver see her? She directed the horse to the side of the road and kept going forward, but the car swerved toward her side of the road. She couldn’t see the make or model, just the shape coming closer.
It was going to hit her, and her gut told her it was a deliberate move. She didn’t want the horse to be harmed but didn’t know what to do. Then she saw a path cut into the newly planted field of corn. Just as she turned the horse into the path, the car brushed by so closely that it rocked her buggy. Perspiration popped out on her forehead, and her hands began to shake. All she could see were the taillights flashing as the car slowed at the next inter-section and went on.
Someone had tried to hit her.
She gulped back her fear and backed the buggy out of the lane to continue on to the grave site. The sun began to peek through the clouds as she finished the trip. She ’d be late and a bedraggled rat, but she was alive. Still shaking, she stopped the buggy behind the long line and stepped down into the mud. She realized she was right in front of the graves of her parents.
Plain wooden stakes marked their sites. There were no flowers on any of the graves, and she longed to put just a single carnation on her mother’s. She’d loved beautiful flowers so much. Keeping them from her didn’t seem right.
Did Mamm ever regret her decision to join the Amish church? It wasn’t done very often. It helped that her parents were German and she was already bilingual, but she gave up so much for Datt. Hannah wished she could talk to her mother’s family, but the brief glimpse of her aunt and cousin at the funeral had been her only contact with them. Maybe she could find them again. Aunt Nora might know how to contact Aunt Cathy and Mary.
Had Reece really converted to the Amish faith? And if he had, where did that leave her? She couldn’t go back to him. What if Reece was indeed behind everything—her parents’ deaths, the fire at Aunt Nora’s, the attempt on her life? Or was it her bitterness blinding her? Could she be wrong about Reece? But no, she ’d felt his hand shoving her down the steps. A man who would do that was capable of anything. Her hatred swelled.
Hannah saw Asia’s car parked along the road and waved to her. Asia jogged over to join her. “What happened to you?” she asked. “You look like a drowned kitten.”
“Someone tried to run me off the road.” Hannah told Asia what had happened, and immediately her publicist wanted to call Matt. “I don’t want to spoil the funeral. We ’ll go see him later.”
They stood on the edge of the crowd. Hannah tried to be as inconspicuous as possible. A blue Saturn rolled to a stop in the line of vehicles, and a woman got out. A sense of déjà vu rolled over her when she recognized her cousin Mary.
Ten years older now, Mary had lost the fresh bloom of her early twenties. Her auburn hair was cut short, and the style did nothing to flatter her face. She ’d gained a few pounds as well, and the blouse she wore strained across her stomach. Hannah stepped out to meet her.
“Mary, I don’t know if you remember me. I’m Hannah.”
The other woman smiled. “It would be hard to mistake you since we look so much alike.”
“Is your mother here too?” Hannah remembered how her mother and Aunt Cathy also resembled each other.
Mary fell into step beside Hannah, and they moved toward the throng of people around the grave. “No, she ’s in Maine again. After your parents were killed, I ended up moving here to Indiana. I read about Moe ’s death in the paper and thought I’d come pay my respects. I know he’s not a direct relative, but I still feel part of the Amish side of the family. I thought you left town.”
“I did. I came back for a visit a few days ago. Where are you living? I’ll stop by if you don’t mind.”
Mary gave her the address. “I’d love that.”
“Are you married? Have kids?” When the question sprang from her lips, Hannah wondered if the child she sought might be Mary’s.
“Nope, no husband. Or kids.” A shadow darkened Mary’s eyes.
They rejoined Asia at the edge of the crowd. The interment service proceeded without incident, but watching Nora’s pain hurt Hannah. It was all she could do to stand back and let closer family comfort Aunt Nora.
Mary had to get back to work after the service, and Hannah promised to visit. Once her cousin got in her car and drove off, Hannah wanted to do the same. “I can’t eat with them,” she told Asia. “I don’t want to embarrass Aunt Nora or Sarah. Let’s go to the jail. I need to see Matt and tell him what happened on the road.”
She told her aunt they were leaving, then she had Asia follow her to return the horse and buggy to her aunt’s house. Once she cared for the horse, she and Asia headed for Rockville. When they got there fifteen minutes later, Hannah stood five feet away from the car, staring at the big boxy building. The jail repelled her, reminded her of the questioning she’d endured ten years ago. She could still smell the cleaning solution used in the room where she ’d been grilled for four hours, and the scent made her stomach churn. What made her think they’d help her now?
She glanced down at the picture in her hand. The little girl smiled up at her, but the gap-toothed grin failed to move her. This couldn’t be her child. The wind ruffled Hannah’s hair, swirling it around in her face as a sign that she shouldn’t go in.
Confusion gripped her. She retreated to the car and put her hand on the door handle. The best thing was to get back in the car and not draw attention to herself.
“Hannah, what the heck? I thought you wanted to talk to Matt.”
“I probably imagined the whole thing. Now that I think about it, I’m sure it was an accident. And this whole daughter thing is probably a mirage.”
Asia pointed her red-tipped finger at her. “You get right back in there and talk to him. We haven’t come all this way not to pursue every avenue.”
“You’re right. I know you’re right.” Hannah turned and forced herself to march to the door and yank it open.
THE JAIL SMELLED like someone’s roast beef sandwich. Matt walked past the deputy manning the front desk and proceeded down the narrow hallway to his cramped office, last room on the left. Blake followed him. The guy whistled through his teeth, and the annoying ditty set Matt on edge.
“Hey, Beitler,” a young deputy called. “The Rockville police reported a big heist from the Ace Hardware store. The alarm wasn’t triggered and we’ve got nada.”
Great. The rash of breakins was getting worse. He wondered—for the umpteenth time—if it was an inside job. Someone smart had been pulling the robberies. He pushed away his doubts about Blake and stalked on to his office.
Attending the funeral had been a waste of time. He ’d seen nothing suspicious and caught only one glimpse of Hannah. She hadn’t seen him.
He dropped into the chair behind his overflowing desk and pulled his keyboard to him. Calling up the files, he ignored Blake, who was pacing the room.
“The white powder at Trudy’s was insecticide dust, nothing lethal to a person,” Matt said. “But the flowers that were delivered to Nora Honegger were loaded with poison. So far we haven’t been able to discover what florist delivered them. The box they came in was in the trash, but it was plain white cardboard with no business name.” Leaning back in the chair, he flipped open the file containing the printouts of what they knew so far. “The funeral was this morning. I went for a little while. Some people from town came, but it was mostly Amish.”
Blake finally quit pacing and came to sit on the other side of t
he desk. “I think it’s a family member.”
“Of course you do,” a female voice said from the doorway.
Matt looked up to see Hannah standing in the hall. Her cheeks were flushed, and her golden brown eyes sparked with fire. Her hair looked wet, and so did her clothes. With that titian hair, she probably had trouble hanging on to her temper. “You have something to say?”
She advanced into the room. The black dress only partially concealed her figure, and he wondered if it shamed her that she was so beautiful. He realized he was enjoying seeing her agitation.
“You’ve trained your partner well,” she said. “He ’s just as quick to jump to conclusions as you.”
“The murderer is generally someone close to the victim,” he said.
“We are Amish. We abhor violence.” She pointed to the computer. “If you look through your files, I doubt you’ll find a single case of one of us breaking the law. No one in our community killed Moe or my family.”
“Are you okay?” he asked when he realized she was shaking. He thought more than anger lay beneath her nerves.
“Someone tried to run me down in the buggy.”
He stiffened. “Why didn’t you call me? What did the vehicle look like?”
“It was during the storm, and the rain was coming down too hard for me to tell.” She gripped the back of a chair, and her voice grew steadier. “Maybe I’m jumping to conclusions. It could have been an accident, but I tried to move out of the way and the vehicle matched me.”
“The next time something like this happens, call me!”
Blake ’s cell phone rang. “I’ll be back in a minute.” He disappeared through the door.
Matt kept his gaze on Hannah. “There’s not much I can do without a description of the car, but you need to be careful.”
She nodded, the hectic red in her cheeks draining away. “I—I came for another reason too.” She swallowed hard.
There was something so vulnerable about her that Matt wished he didn’t have to question her. His job was to push and prod until he got at the truth, and he knew there was a lot she held back. Getting at it might hurt her. “So what’s up?”
She blinked, exhaled, then slowly opened her bag. Rummaging inside, she withdrew a photo and held it out. “I wonder if you’ve seen this little girl.”
A child? Matt took the slick paper. His sweet daughter’s face looked back at him, and he almost smiled. “Where did you get this?” He tried to think of what Caitlin might have done. Thrown rocks? Darted in front of her? He lifted his coffee cup to his lips.
She bit her lip. “Reece sent it. He says it’s our daughter.”
Matt choked on the sip of hot liquid. “Wait, let me get this straight. You’ve never seen this girl before, yet you say it’s your daughter? How is that possible?” He looked down at Caitlin again. It was Caitlin, wasn’t it?
She didn’t look at him but rushed on. “I was pregnant, and Reece wasn’t happy about it. About two weeks before the baby was due, he shoved me down the stairs. I just remember pain and coming in and out of consciousness. When I finally woke up, he told me the baby girl had died.”
Matt found it hard to get his mind around what she was saying. A shiver of fear tickled his spine. “And now he’s saying the baby didn’t die? That this child is that baby?”
She nodded. “I left him as soon as I found out. I thought that was the end of it until I got this picture last week. I want to find my daughter,” she said with a stubborn tilt to her chin.
No way. Maybe Reece had seen a picture of Caitlin and recognized the resemblance, then chosen to use it. It was impossible her daughter was his baby girl. “When was this?” he asked before he could stop himself.
“Five years ago. April fourteenth.”
The day before Analise had found a tiny bundle on their front porch. Horror stopped his tongue. He wouldn’t believe it. He swallowed hard and managed to feign indifference. “And you believe him? Maybe he’s just yanking your chain.”
She nodded. “He might be trying to hurt me. He says if I come back to him, I can have her back. He says he’s raising her Amish up in Shipshewana, but this little girl is dressed Englisch. So it’s hard to believe what he ’s telling me.”
Matt forced himself to breathe, to act naturally. He couldn’t let on how upset he was. At least he knew it was all a lie. “I think he ’s bluffing.” He knew he should tell her, but he had to know more first. His child’s future hung in the balance.
Tears hung on her lashes. “He called me yesterday, and I heard her voice. She sounded darling.”
Reece had taped Caitlin’s voice? Maybe Gina wasn’t overreacting and someone had been following her. Maybe Reece had seen Caitlin and realized how much she looked like Hannah. He might have seen this as a way of getting to her.
Matt had to gain some time, figure out what to do. No one was taking his daughter. “You think he ’s in town?”
“I’m sure of it. He sent me this picture to flush me out so he could find me.”
“I’ll try to find him, talk to him.”
She shook her head. “He’s crafty. He won’t tell you anything. But can we look for the child?”
“What makes you think she ’s in Indiana?” He was total slime to try to confuse her.
“See here?” She handed the picture back to him. “There ’s a covered bridge in the background.”
He peered at the picture. She was right. He remembered the picnic by the bridge, too, just a month ago on an unusually warm April day. “That doesn’t say for sure it’s here. There are covered bridges in other places.”
“Yes, but look at the name on the bridge. It’s the one by my—my cousin’s house, the Narrows Bridge. So we need to start here.”
By some miracle, he kept his voice steady. “There’s no crime yet. I’m not sure what you expect me to do.”
“Isn’t it a crime to steal a baby from her mother?” Her voice rose. “How about murdering a child?”
“You don’t know this little girl is even yours. And did you ever press charges against Reece?” He didn’t even have to wait for her to shake her head. Of course she didn’t. She’d simply walked away from him like so many battered wives without making him pay for what he ’d done. “So we have no proof of anything.”
“Then what do I do?”
“I’ll find Reece and talk to him.” He waved the picture in the air. “But I think you’re chasing a dream. This little girl probably just has red hair.” He had to believe it for his own sanity, to keep panic from sweeping him away.
“I understand that. But I have to do something. I have to find her, discover the truth for myself.”
He nodded. “I’ll keep you posted. Give me your cell phone number.” As she dug for a pen and paper, he glanced at the photo again. His blood ran cold at the thought that Reece had been watching his baby. The man had to be somewhere nearby, and Matt would find him, force him to tell the truth. Force him to go away and leave them all alone.
eleven
“Take a look at the Amish Bars Quilt. Less is more in the
quilt and in the Amish way of life. They’re able to escape the
plague of materialism sweeping the country.”
—HANNAH SCHWARTZ,
I N The Amish Faith Through Their Quilts
Asia had the radio turned up and was singing along when Hannah got back to the car. Perspiration trickled along the back of her neck, and her pulse still raced from the effort to convince Matt to help her. If she ’d had anywhere else to turn, she wouldn’t have gone to him.
The smile on Asia’s face faltered when she saw Hannah. “It didn’t go well?”
“That man could make a bishop swear.” Hannah slammed the door behind her and fastened her seat belt as Asia laughed. “He ’s going to look around, but he ’s still looking at our community for the murderer. Just like he did when my family died. One of us was his first assumption. I thought he might have learned something, grown up some.”
&nbs
p; Asia started the car and pulled into the line of traffic. “Don’t you watch CSI? It’s generally someone close to the victim. He ’s just following standard procedure.”
“But does he have to be so obnoxious about it? I want to talk to my aunt, but not while she ’s so upset. She seems to know something about this.”
“Well, you can do that later. Publishers Weekly called, and you have a phone interview with them in an hour and a half. They want a quick quote from you for an article they’re running on why Amish books are so popular.”
Hannah wanted to shake her head and refuse, but Asia was just doing her job. “Asia, I don’t want to do any promotion while I’m here. Please don’t schedule anything more.”
Asia didn’t seem to hear. “We ’ve got to maximize the opportunity while we can. I plan to call some women’s magazines next and set up photo shoots here in the area where they can see you interacting with the Amish.”
“No, absolutely not. No photos here. You know the Amish don’t like their pictures taken. They don’t tolerate graven images or vanity.” The very thought made Hannah want to pace. If her family were fully aware of her fame, their disapproval would soar. When had she so fully disassociated herself from the concept of Hochmut? Her people had a horror of elevating themselves into the limelight, but she’d welcomed it when it had come. Perhaps she had even been a bit prideful of her success. No wonder the bishop warned against how easily worldly ways could creep in.
They reached the turnoff to Nora’s farm, and from the corner of her eye, Hannah saw a truck go by. The man’s head swiveled, and their eyes locked. It was Reece. She saw recognition come into his face, and he smiled.
“Step on it, Asia, quick!” Her pulse thundered in her ears. Five years wasn’t long enough to get rid of the metallic taste of terror that came at the first glimpse of his face.
“Who is it?” Asia stomped on the gas. She did a U-turn in the middle of the road and sped away in the opposite direction.
Hannah peeked over the top of the seat behind them. “He ’s turning around to follow us!”
Anathema Page 11
