SECRETS IN
THE GRAVE
Karen Ann Hopkins
Copyright © 2015 Karen Ann Hopkins
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 1515286533
ISBN 13: 9781515286530
Library of Congress Control Number: 2015912606
Createspace Independent Publishing Platform
North Charleston, South Carolina
PRAISE FOR LAMB TO
THE SLAUGHTER & WHISPERS
FROM THE DEAD
“A well-crafted tale of murder begotten by the collision of two incompatible worlds.” Kirkus reviews.
“Lamb to the Slaughter was an easy, enjoyable read that I completely enjoyed. I was over the moon excited to hear that there will be more books in this series. Serenity and Daniel will solve cases involving Amish communities throughout the Midwest!” Caffeinated Book Reviewer
“I would highly, highly recommend this one…From the mystery, the characters and the writing this is a fantastic book! I can’t wait for book two!” Lose Time Reading
“From the prologue to the last chapters, Lamb to the Slaughter had me instantly hooked. Ms. Hopkins is a master at pacing and setting up her stories in a way that has readers connected to both the characters and the story line.” Love-Life-Read
“This book had it all!! Murder, mystery, forbidden romance and left you needing to read the next book in the series ASAP!! Loved this book!” Curling Up With a Good Book
“Karen Ann Hopkins has delivered with Lamb to the Slaughter. I love the uniqueness she brings to the mystery genre, and I will DEFINITELY be reading more from her in the future.” Unabridged Bookshelf
“The characters are complex and dimensional, whether they have a large or smaller part to play in this story, and it really added such a richness that I enjoyed.” Bewitched Bookworms
“Lamb to the Slaughter is a must read for fans of mystery novels. Karen Ann Hopkins made me a fan with her YA Temptation series, and she’s made me an even bigger fan with this murder mystery.” Actin’ Up With Books
“An intriguing tale full of mystery and suspense....LAMB TO THE SLAUGHTER had me thinking and rethinking the entire time.” I Read Indie!
“I’m so glad that this is going to be a series; because it’s one of the greatest murder mysteries that I’ve read in a long time.” Little Miss Drama Queen
“Simply put Karen Ann Hopkins, takes her readers to a new level of Amish fiction and suspense.” Deitre Helvey Owens at Once Upon a Twilight
“Lamb to the Slaughter will keep you at the edge of your seat. Don’t miss this nail biting experience!” Her Book Thoughts
“Lamb to the Slaughter is a stunningly suspenseful read that will have you flipping pages long after bedtime. You won’t want to miss it!” Bittersweet Enchantment
“Whispers from the Dead is my favorite book so far this year!” Unabridged Bookshelf
“I give Whispers from the Dead a 5 out of 5! This installment explores how big city problems don’t necessarily stay in the big city…it makes for a steamy and seductive read.” Bewitched Bookworms
“Loved this book! This book gives you everything…kids buying illegal narcotics, revenge burnings, overdoses, secrets, lies, kidnapping and several shootings, and all in one northern touristy Amish community.” Curling Up With a Good Book
“Whispers from the Dead is a success!” Her Book Thoughts
BOOKS BY KAREN ANN HOPKINS
Serenity’s Plain Secrets
in reading order
LAMB TO THE SLAUGHTER
WHISPERS FROM THE DEAD
SECRETS IN THE GRAVE
Wings of War
in reading order
EMBERS
GAIA
The Temptation Novels
in reading order
TEMPTATION
BELONGING
FOREVER
RACHEL’S DEPCEPTION
SUMMER’S SONG (2016)
For Anthony.
Your generous spirit never ceases to amaze me. Thank you for everything.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
As always, I’m thankful to Jenny Zemanek of Seedlings Design Studio for another wonderful cover, Amanda Shofner for her excellent editorial skills, and Heather Miller for her attention to detail. I’m proud to have all of you as part of my team!
Much love and thanks to my children: Luke, Cole, Lily, Owen, and Cora. I couldn’t ask for better children…or friends. And I’m always grateful for my mom’s insight and wisdom. I wouldn’t have written nine books without your guidance. I love you.
Opal, your enthusiasm for my books and your personal connection to the Amish have made you the best critique partner. Much appreciation for your support and friendship. You’re one in a million.
A special shout out for the readers and bloggers who have promoted my books. Deitre from A Leisure Moment, Joli from Actin’ Up With Books, Beckie from Bittersweet Enchantment, and Beth from Curling Up With a Good Book are a few of the special people who have helped make my books successful through their blogs and word-of-mouth advertising. Your recommendations have been instrumental in spreading the word. Thank you!
And finally, my deepest, heartfelt gratitude to my husband, Jay, the best man in the world. Without you, I never would have made it this far.
“Success is sweeter and sweeter if long delayed and gotten through many struggles and defeats.”
~Amos Bronson Alcott
CONTENTS
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER 1: SERENITY
CHAPTER 2: DANIEL
CHAPTER 3: SERENITY
CHAPTER 4: SERENITY
CHAPTER 5: DANIEL
CHAPTER 6: SERENITY
CHAPTER 7: SERENITY
CHAPTER 8: DANIEL
CHAPTER 9: SERENITY
CHAPTER 10: DANIEL
CHAPTER 11: SERENITY
CHAPTER 12: SERENITY
CHAPTER 13: DANIEL
CHAPTER 14: SERENITY
CHAPTER 14: DANIEL
CHAPTER 15: SERENITY
CHAPTER 16: SERENITY
CHAPTER 17: SERENITY
CHAPTER 18: DANIEL
CHAPTER 19: SERENITY
CHAPTER 20: SERENITY
CHAPTER 21: SERENITY
CHAPTER 22: SERENITY
CHAPTER 23: SERENITY
CHAPTER 24: SERENITY
CHAPTER 25: SERENITY
CHAPTER 26: DANIEL
CHAPTER 27: SERENITY
CHAPTER 28: SERENITY
PROLOGUE
July 10, 2005
Black Willow Amish Settlement, Ohio
The contraction rolled through Robyn’s lower back, hips and thighs with stabbing pain. She took a deep breath and concentrated on pushing harder. This was the fifth baby she’d brought into the world. She was relieved the labor was progressing quicker than the other four had. Each subsequent birth was hastier than the last, but the suffering was much the same. Oh, how she despised this part. It felt as if the baby was wrestling, trying to crawl its way further inside, and no amount of pushing would dislodge its stubbornness. It didn’t want to leave the warmth and security of its mother’s womb. She could hardly blame the infant, but with the passing of each stinging contraction, she was losing patience. As the last pain subsided to an uncomfortable throbbing, she said a silent prayer that it would be over soon.
“Come now, Robyn. You’re no stranger to this business. You’re practically an expert.” Ada Mae pressed the cool, damp cloth against Robyn’s forehead. “It’s nearly noon. You must push harder, dear.”
Robyn scowled at her sister-in-law. The younger woman knew her herbal remedies, but she resented her demanding tone. Ada Mae had never been pregnant. She hadn’t experienced the agonizing pain
a woman endured bringing her child into the world. Robyn bit her lip, keeping quiet. Ada Mae had been recently widowed. Her husband had met an unfortunate end when a young Belgian horse he was shoeing kicked him in the face.
As the pinching pain of another contraction built, Robyn pitied her sister-in-law. Not only had the poor woman lost her husband, but she also had no children of her own to comfort her in the days to come. And she never would have any. Ada Mae’s womb was barren.
“I want to wait for Jonas. He delivered his other children. This one should be no different,” Robyn said through clenched teeth.
Ada Mae sighed, shaking her head. “There’s no telling when Jonas will be back from the Troyer’s farm. Little Sarah Troyer was awfully sick. I’d imagine he’ll be there for a while.”
Robyn remained silent, suffering through the cramping without pushing. When the pains diminished, she fell back onto the pillows with a groan. “I don’t think I can do it without him. This young’un’s being difficult,” Robyn said weakly.
“We are going on two hours since Robyn began pushing, perhaps it’s time to call the driver to take her to the hospital,” Mrs. Gingerich suggested into Ada Mae’s ear.
Ada Mae shrugged the gray-haired woman off. “This is Robyn’s fifth child. There’s no need for the cost of a hospital. My brother would have a fit we failed to do our duty here,” Ada Mae chastised. She swiveled to Robyn. “A little more effort on Robyn’s part and we’ll be hearing the squalling of a baby soon enough.”
Robyn rolled her eyes. “I could use some more of that tea. It might help with the pain.”
“All right. It certainly can’t hurt.” Ada Mae flicked her head in Mrs. Gingerich’s direction. “Pour her another cup.”
Even though Mrs. Gingerich was thirty years older than Ada Mae, she did as she was told without question. With hands gnarled from age, she poured the last of the contents of the tea pot into the mug. She waddled over to Robyn on chunky legs, handing it to her with a toothless smile of encouragement.
“Hopefully, this will ease your discomfort some,” Mrs. Gingerich offered.
Robyn took a large swallow of the minty, bitter tea. She grimaced at the taste and its lukewarm temperature. “You should add some sugar, Ada Mae. It really is awful.”
Ada Mae chuckled. “It isn’t supposed to be a treat. Its medicinal properties give it that foul taste. But I’ve added enough peppermint to mask it a little.”
Robyn reluctantly nodded in agreement, then tilted her head. “Shhh,” she shushed the others with a finger to her lips, listening. “A buggy approaches.”
Ada Mae rushed to the window, pushing the white gossamer curtains aside. “It’s Jonas. He made it in time.”
The next contraction that rocked Robyn didn’t bother her as much as the previous ones. After eighteen years of marriage, she still experienced the fluttering of butterflies whenever Jonas returned from a day away. This would probably be their last child. At forty-one, Robyn was feeling too worn out to go through another pregnancy, labor and suckling babe. Jonas had been surprised to learn about this pregnancy. Verna, their last child, was nearly seven years old, but he didn’t know that Robyn had been taking primrose oil in hopes of conceiving one last time. She was trying for that little boy they’d wanted since their first pregnancy so many years earlier.
Robyn already had the crushing feeling that this child was, in fact, another girl. Until the baby was born, she’d keep hoping and praying for that special boy. When Jonas had laid his hands on her belly months ago, he’d proclaimed that they were indeed having a girl. Until then, and delivering more than a hundred babies in this community and the surrounding ones, he’d never been wrong. Even with the odds stacked against her, she’d keep faith that maybe he had finally made a mistake. In case he had, she’d already picked out the boy’s name. Simon Levi Peachey. If it turned out to be a girl, Esta.
Robyn would love the child either way, but she couldn’t lie, even to herself. A fifth girl would be disappointing.
The faint sound of her youngest daughters, Gloria and Verna, shrieking downstairs met Robyn’s ears. She almost didn’t notice the beginning of another contraction as she stared at the door, waiting impatiently for Jonas to burst in.
When the door flung open, Robyn caught a glimpse of the girls peeking in before Mrs. Gingerich scurried over to close it, blocking her daughters’ view. Childbirth wasn’t pleasant to witness, especially for children. They were too young to understand the pain and suffering their momma had to endure. Later, after the blood and mess were cleaned up, and the soiled sheets were removed from the room, the girls would meet their newest sibling, but not a moment before.
Jonas lifted the black hat from his head, tossing it on the dresser beside the door. His clear blue eyes were calm and the corner of his mouth lifted into a half-smile. A few gray hairs mingled with the brown ones in the thick beard that ran down the length of his chest. Those gray hairs were the only visible proof of his thirty-eight years. There was a youthful, charismatic quality about Jonas that made everyone like the medicine man. As a teen, he’d had been one of the most sought after boys in the community. A shy, blonde girl named Robyn had ultimately won his favor.
He nodded at Mrs. Gingerich first and then his sister before he turned his attention to Robyn. “How are you fairing, wife?” He had the gift of a steady voice no matter the circumstance. Robyn loved that voice. Hearing it, she relaxed.
“It goes difficult this time. Ada Mae had me pushing earlier, but the child is taking its sweet time,” Robyn drawled the words, reaching for her husband’s hand.
Jonas pulled his suspenders from his shoulders. He knelt beside the bed, taking Robyn’s hand and pressing it to the side of his face. “Rest assured, I am here now,” he told Robyn before glancing at Ada Mae with a frown. “You should have waited for me. I deliver all the children in these parts, especially my own.”
Ada Mae’s green eyes flicked from Robyn to Jonas. She shrugged. “You of all people should know sometimes babies don’t wait for anyone.”
As if he was used to such insolence from his younger sister, he sighed and rose to his feet.
Ignoring Ada Mae’s comment, he asked, “Do you have everything prepared?”
“Of course. Don’t I always?” Ada Mae huffed.
“Yes, I suppose you do,” he replied in a tired voice.
He rolled up his sleeves and dipped his hands into the sudsy water in the washbasin. Mrs. Gingerich handed him a towel before she busied herself plumping the pillows behind Robyn.
Ada Mae brought a wooden tray with raised handles to Jonas. It contained everything from scissors and thread to cloths and iodine, arranged neatly. There were several dark glass bottles filled with herb mixtures, essential oils and tinctures.
Jonas plucked one of the bottles from the tray and poured it into a small cup. “Here, drink this. It will take away the pain and tedium of this delivery,” he coaxed, placing the cup into Robyn’s hands.
“Oh must I, Jonas? I want to be awake when this one arrives,” she said with the wilted tone of disappointment.
Jonas met his wife’s pained eyes. “There is no reason for you to suffer so. Have faith in me. It will be over soon.”
Robyn glanced at Mrs. Gingerich, who gazed back at her with tight lips and wide eyes. The old woman wouldn’t question her husband’s ways. He was well known as a miraculous healer. Robyn understood. Then she looked at Ada Mae. Her sister-in-law graced her with a firm shake of her head and a slight smile.
Robyn swallowed the contents of the cup down resignedly. Who was she or anyone else for that matter to question Jonas Peachey?
The liquid burned as it slid down her throat. She closed her eyes, easing back into the pillows. Another contraction gripped her insides. The pain was still there, but it was numbed, distant feeling, and so were the voices in the room. She strained to listen, catching Jonas’ quiet, yet commanding voice as he said a short prayer for the health of her and their baby. He called out orde
rs to Ada Mae and Mrs. Gingerich in quick succession.
The sound of the words and the shuffling of feet on the hardwood floor drifted away. Robyn was at peace. When she felt the pressure of hands pushing down on her belly and pulling within her womb, she didn’t startle.
Her mind wandered. She thought about the lavender dress she had almost finished sewing for Verna and how she might allow the child to work the final stitches on the hem herself. She wouldn’t have much time to do it herself. She’d be busy in the coming days with a new baby. She hadn’t even completed the crib quilt yet. She’d been waiting to see whether it was a boy or a girl before picking the trim color.
Dear Lord, please make it so Jonas is wrong. Give me a baby boy, Robyn prayed, as the world went dark and quiet.
1
SERENITY
March 24, 2015
Blood Rock Amish Settlement, Indiana
“Here we go again.” Todd Roftin gave an exaggerated roll of his brown eyes.
I couldn’t help sighing myself as I slid into the front passenger seat of the cruiser. As usual, Todd was driving. Bobby Humphrey, the county coroner and all around go-to guy for forensic questions, took the back seat.
I regretted ordering the double bacon cheeseburger from Nancy’s Diner. It felt like a heavy rock rested in my gut. The little burp that escaped didn’t relieve the bloated feeling.
“You eat too much greasy food, Serenity. Your arteries are probably already clogged,” Todd informed me with a sideways sneer.
“You should talk,” I fired back. I wasn’t in the mood for sparing with Todd and indigestion was only part of the reason. “For every burger I eat at Nancy’s, you eat two.”
“Yeah, but at least I have Heather back at the house cooking some decent meals during the week. Do you even cook?” Todd raised a brow.
Bobby snorted. I ignored him.
“I make do just fine in that department, thank you very much. I know all about Heather’s cooking skills. I’ve eaten at your house enough times to know that her meals aren’t that much different from what we eat at the diner.”
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