Evil in My Town

by Karen Ann Hopkins

  “Why didn’t you talk to the sheriff about that night?” Mervin suddenly reminded me of an arrogant fox, looking at me with distaste.

  I shifted between my feet. “At the time it didn’t seem important.”

  “A girl died. Isn’t that important enough?” Mervin said in steely voice.

  Tears flooded my eyes and I dabbed at them.

  Sarah pressed closer to me and touched my arm. “Leave her alone, Mervin. You don’t have to be mean.”

  “I’m only speaking the truth.” He raised his voice. “We’re all at fault. We all knew what Monroe was up to, but we kept quiet, more intent on protecting our own backsides, and keeping the elders’ focus away from us, than taking the risk of talking to them”—he looked at me—“or the sheriff about our fears. It’s too late for this Danielle girl, but we can still right our wrongs.”

  “What do you want from me?” I asked through wet lips.

  “You have to tell us exactly what happened the night Danielle died. The entire truth.”

  I glanced at Matthew and he offered me a sympathetic look and a slow nod.

  I rubbed my hands into my temples and took a deep breath, knowing I should have done this a long time ago.

  I forced the words out of my mouth. “I thought I was going to die…”

  18

  Serenity

  The kitchen was too hot. I unzipped my jacket and slid it off, hanging it on the back of the chair. I glanced at Daniel. He was listening to his brother-in-law talk about the benefits of weaning calves early, but the firm set to his jaw told me he wasn’t paying much attention to the farmer’s ramblings. Toby sat on the other side of me and my gaze drifted his way. He eyed me with his usual crooked smile. He seemed to be enjoying the dinner in the Amish household immensely. He had accepted seconds on his plate, and had already asked several nosey questions about the Amish lifestyle. He seemed oblivious that he’d raised the hackles on my fiancé’s back several times. Daniel was a jealous man, and Toby was the kind of guy who enjoyed pushing people’s buttons. The Marshal’s innocent look wasn’t deceiving, though. I would bet he knew exactly the pot he had stirred up by being at my side when we arrived at Rebecca’s house.

  “It is so sad what happened at the town’s school the other day.” Rebecca’s eyes glistened. “I cannot imagine such a thing. Why did that boy kill his classmates and teachers, Serenity?”

  I cleared my throat. “I’m trying to figure that out, but it won’t be easy, since the shooter is dead. He’s the only one who can tell us for sure why he did it.” Everyone became silent around the table. Daniel’s eyes met mine and I folded my hands neatly on the table. “We can gather evidence and make an educated guess.”

  “Those poor families. It seems worse that it happened in a place where the children should have been safe and protected.” Rebecca stirred her cup of tea, the heat rising from it mingled with the other cooking smells in the kitchen.

  “It’s a horrible tragedy,” Daniel spoke up. His eyes were like dark pools as he stared at me. “Did the evidence lead you to the Amish?”

  My gaze whipped to Daniel. “What do you mean?”

  “Reuben said when he was on his way back from the feed mill, he saw your vehicle parked at the Swarey’s place.” Daniel’s handsome face was set in stone, emotionless.

  I glanced at Rebecca’s husband. The man had a long black beard and dull brown eyes. He’d always struck me as a man with no curiosity. Perhaps I was wrong about that.

  My blood bubbled. I wasn’t happy that Daniel brought this up in the presence of his sister and brother-in-law, but maybe I could use it to my advantage.

  I turned to Rebecca. “How well did you know Nicolas’ wife?”

  “Are you barking up that tree again?” Reuben thrust his chest out. “That woman wasn’t one of us. It was a mistake that Nicolas married her. After all these years, she finally realized it and ran off to live among the English.”

  I leaned forward, keeping my gaze locked on Reuben’s defiant face. “The problem is she isn’t living among the English. As far as I can tell, Erin Swarey disappeared into thin air.” My voice grew louder. “A missing person is of interest to me.”

  Reuben’s shoulders lowered and he pushed his mashed potatoes around with his fork. My focus switched to Rebecca. “I apologize for bringing up a case over dinner, but it’s important. I’ll ask you once again—what was your relationship with Nicolas’ wife?”

  Rebecca looked at her husband, and when he didn’t raise his head, she licked her lips and began talking. “Erin was a friend. She had a generous spirit and was always kind to me and the other women. We understood how difficult it was for her to overcome her ties to the English world, and we helped her as much as we could. She tried really hard in the early years she was among us, when Monroe was a small child. She cooked and cleaned the house as well as any of us.” She smiled faintly, staring past me. “I recall a time right after I had my second baby. It was a difficult delivery and I was constrained to the bed for almost a week, recovering. The other women in the community brought dinners for my family and helped clean the house and care for the baby, but what Erin did got me through the ordeal more than anything anyone else provided.” Her eyes met mine again. “She brought a book everyday—it was a historical story about a family living in Ireland and the trials they went through to come to America. She read to me for several hours each day, even making different sounds for the voices. Erin had a wonderful spirit and I was fond of her.” She frowned. “As the years passed and Monroe grew older, Erin began to withdraw from the community, and even from me. The light left her eyes. She wasn’t happy anymore.”

  The kitchen was quiet, except for the rustling of the kids at the end of the table.

  “Children, you’re excused,” Reuben said flatly.

  With a flurry of movement Daniels’ nephews were out of their chairs and running through the doorway. His nieces took their time rising and began gathering the dinner plates.

  “Out with you, too.” Reuben flapped his hands, encouraging the girls to leave the room. They glanced at each other in surprise, but didn’t hang around to argue with their father. Once they were released from their usual chores, they were gone as quickly as the boys were.

  I recognized the little blonde girl. Her name was Christina and I’d saved her life about a year earlier. I had performed CPR on her after she’d fallen into a flooded ditch. A few months later she’d nearly died again, when she’d ingested poisonous water hemlock. The child was only six or seven years old, and yet she was already a well-trained little Amish girl. And then I remembered Daniel’s oldest niece.

  “Where’s Sarah?” I asked Rebecca.

  Her face brightened. “Taylor took her to the craft store to get some supplies.” The spoon that I was about to scoop up the last bite of coleslaw froze in midair, and Rebecca’s eyes widened. “Did you not know they are friends?”

  “Uh, no, I wasn’t aware of that.” I shot a questioning look at Daniel and he shrugged. “I have been busy lately.”

  Thick silence hung in the kitchen and Reuben bolted up. “Daniel, why don’t I show you our new Hereford calves. They’re a fine lot.”

  Toby stood up and said, “I’d like to see them too, if you don’t mind me tagging along.”

  Toby was a smooth operator. He realized that I would get further with Rebecca if the men weren’t around. Daniel was more reluctant to leave.

  “Why don’t you go see the cows—I’ll help Rebecca get the kitchen cleaned up,” I coaxed, hoping I’d disguised any tone of begging from my voice.

  Daniel gave me the—we-have-a-lot-to-discuss-later look before he joined Reuben and Toby and left the room. The door closed, and I was finally alone with Rebecca in the empty kitchen. She carried the plates to the sink and I joined her with an armful of glasses.

  “What do you think changed for Erin?” Caution
flicked in Rebecca’s eyes, and I hurried on, “Why did she become depressed?”

  Rebecca set the dishes into the sink and faced me. “Nicolas is not a good man. He put on an act for a while, pretended to be something he was not while their marriage was young and Monroe was just a child. Over time, his true nature began to shine through.”

  “What did he do?” I asked.

  Rebecca gazed around the room, making sure the coast was clear. Even though we were quite alone, she still whispered. “Nicolas was always a violent man, even when he was a teenager. He hid that side of himself when he courted Erin. She chose to join our people because he convinced her to. He made her feel safe and secure with him.” She stared at the sudsy water while she spoke. “I remember the first time she showed me the bruising. He was careful to only touch her below the neck, so no one else would be the wiser.”

  My face flushed with heat and my fists balled. “Didn’t you report the abuse to the bishop?”

  Her eyes went wide. “Oh, yes. I told Reuben about it, and he went to the elders. Nicolas denied it all, said his wife was injured by a horse or fell from a ladder while cleaning cobwebs. He accused Erin of having emotional problems, and since she used to be English, the bishop and ministers were reluctant to believe her side of things. They counseled Erin to be an obedient wife.” Rebecca’s voice cracked and a tear slipped down her cheek. “The other women began spending less time with Erin, and even I cut back my contact with her after Reuben advised me to do so.”

  “Why would Reuben care if you hung out with her?”

  Her attention went to the dishes again. “Nicolas had insinuated that Erin was a woman who stirred up trouble. Reuben didn’t want me getting entangled in whatever problems she was having.”

  “So when your friend needed you most, you let her down?” I didn’t try to hide my disgust.

  Rebecca stiffened. “I am very sorry for abandoning her, but if I wanted to have a healthy marriage with my own husband, I had to follow his guidance.” I threw the dish towel onto the counter, and she rushed out, “It’s our way, Serenity. I see it’s hard for you to understand, but it’s what I chose and am content with.”

  “Your lifestyle isn’t my concern—Erin Swarey is. Do you have any idea where she might have gone?”

  Rebecca shook her head. “She never said a word to me about leaving.”

  “What about a friend of hers—an English woman she might have been in contact with? Did someone come to visit her in the days leading up to her disappearance?”

  “No, I didn’t see anyone or hear about such a visit.” Rebecca looked at me with clear, unflinching eyes. She was being truthful.

  A loud knock on the door startled us both. Rebecca crossed the floor and opened the door. Bishop Esch strode into the kitchen, bringing with him a blast of wintry air.

  “Where is your husband, Rebecca?” His gaze traveled around the room until he noticed me. “Sheriff, I wondered if that was your car out there. I’m surprised to see you in our neck of the woods. I would have guessed your services would be needed in town with the tragedy there.”

  I leaned back against the counter. “Nice to see you too.”

  He tipped his hat and then returned his attention to Rebecca. “I must see Reuben”

  “You’ll find him in the cattle barn,” Rebecca said.

  After the bishop was gone, Rebecca plopped down on the nearest chair and rubbed her face. “I hope nothing is amiss.”

  “You weren’t expecting Aaron this evening?”

  “Oh, no. I worry when he shows up after dark unannounced.”

  I recalled the bishop’s overly brisk manner and had to agree with her. He was on a mission that either meant something was wrong or someone was in deep trouble.

  I gathered up my jacket and car keys. “Thanks for dinner. It was delicious as always, but I really need to get back to town. I have a stack of paperwork to get through before morning.”

  She rose and blocked my way. The look on her face made me think she’d bitten into something sour.

  “Daniel mentioned your wedding earlier. He’s hoping we’ll be able to attend.” She swallowed a gulp. “We would love to be there, but I’m not sure if it will be allowed.”

  “Who do you expect permission from?” I dared to ask.

  “It’s up to the bishop, and since Moses is a minister and Daniel’s father, he has a say also. You understand how shunning works, right?”

  I nodded and forced my face to remain neutral.

  “Because Daniel was shunned, going to his wedding is usually against our rules. We’re hoping an exception can be made for you.”

  “Me?”

  “Of course! You’ve done so much for our community, keeping us safe and solving our crimes. That is all being discussed, I’m sure.”

  I smiled politely. I had to respect their culture even though I didn’t always like it.

  “It would make us both very happy if you’re there, but I understand if it doesn’t happen.”

  The slap of the wind on my face when I stepped outside helped clear my head. A dim light flickered in one of the barn windows and several cows mooed. The moon was high in the sky, its light shined down. The icy snow crunched beneath my feet when I crossed the yard to my car. I’d send Toby a text to get his butt down here so we could head back to town.

  I was dreading any conversation with Daniel. It wasn’t just because of his paranoia about Toby assisting me on the case. I was more frustrated by the discussion with Rebecca about the Amish notion of married life and wives obeying husbands, and the fact that Daniel’s family probably wouldn’t even attend our wedding. The entire situation was annoying and depressing.

  “Sheriff Serenity?” a small voice called out from the darkness.

  I followed the sound and came upon red-cheeked Christina standing beneath a pine tree. She wore a fluffy knit cap and a thick black coat. The toes of her black boots poked out from under her blue dress.

  “What are you doing out here? It’s cold.” I rubbed my hands together.

  The little girl curled her finger, motioning me to duck under the tree’s branches. I did and bent down.

  “What’s this all about?”

  “I heard you talking to Mama. I shouldn’t have been listening—it was an accident.” Her voice came out stilted, as if she hadn’t mastered the English language yet.

  I smiled. The child was precocious. “It’s okay. That happens to me all the time.”

  She blew out an icy breath. “I was with the Yoders one day, and we stopped at the gas station’s store to pick up some snacks.” She lifted her chin. “I was spending the night with Barbara, and her Mama wanted us to have something salty to eat, ‘cause she said her cabinets were bare.” I nodded, urging her on. “Well, I saw Mrs. Swarey that time—”

  I interrupted. “Erin Swarey, Monroe’s mom?”

  She nodded vigorously. “It was her, and she was with a woman I didn’t know.”

  “Was the woman Amish?”

  She shook her head. “No. She was English. She had ugly arms.” My brow furrowed, and she said, “There were weird drawings on her arm, like a funny looking tree and a heart. That’s why I stared at her when I walked by to use the restroom. They were sitting at one of the tables. When I came close, they stopped talking.”

  I held my breath. “When do you think this was?”

  The girl shrugged. She appeared to become distracted by the bishop’s horse that was tied to the hitching rail, stomping his hoof.

  “Christina, listen to me. This is very, very important. Can you remember what the weather was like that day?”

  “It was hot outside. I remember I was sorry I wore my apron and I was sweating. I was going to Barbara’s for her birthday, too.”

  “When is Barbara’s birthday,” I asked.

  The child looked up, thinking hard. �
�In August, I think.”

  My toes felt like tiny needles were pricking them and the girl’s nose was beginning to run. “Is there anything else you recall about Mrs. Swarey and her friend? Anything at all?”

  “Only that they both looked sad,” Christina said.

  I absorbed the information and straightened. “Thanks for talking to me. That was very brave and smart of you.”

  The girl’s cold little face beamed up at me.

  “Go on and get inside before you turn into an ice cube.” She giggled and I shooed her toward the front door.

  I pivoted before I reached my car and stretched my legs up the hill. The bishop’s distracted avoidance of me hadn’t slipped my notice. The man was up to something, and I wasn’t leaving until I found out what it was.

  19

  Taylor

  The barn walls faded and the chill disappeared. I was back in the woods, alone with the stranger.

  The guy circled me and flicked the gun left and right as he spoke. “Are you afraid?”

  I struggled to take a breath. My heart was hammering so loudly I was sure he could hear it. “I would be stupid if I wasn’t.”

  He laughed. “Yeah, I guess that’s right.” He eyed me up and down. “You haven’t been drinking, have you?”

  I shook my head, glad I didn’t have to speak to answer the drug dealer.

  “That’s smart, real smart. It’s always best to have your wits.” He eased back against a tree as if he was suddenly bored with me. “I make a living selling dope, but I never use the stuff. I don’t drink alcohol, either.” He taped the side of his head. “I always have to be one step ahead of everyone else.”