Lamb to the Slaughter

by Karen Ann Hopkins

  There must have been a dozen men inside. I could barely make out their bodies in the pitch darkness, but I counted the outlines and the movements to come up with a solid estimation of thirteen, total. There were no lights at all, not even a small lamp in the interior. I strained my eye, glad that the moon had made its arrival at that moment. The little streaks of light through the barn walls was enough to see that the bishop stood close to the center of the building, with his congregation of dark clad, bearded men before him. They were lined up orderly in rows of about four men each.

  Bishop Esch was the one doing most of the talking. Even in German I could tell his voice easily. Strangely, there was a sprinkling of English words here and there, and when my ears caught them, they pricked up. I heard the words redemption, obedience, fellowship, English and sheriff. I could only surmise that these words didn’t have an easy translation into their language. Or perhaps, because these people spoke both languages, they mixed up the two languages sometimes.

  Occasionally, another man would rattle off something, and the bishop would answer. The men were anxious and I pushed against the old barn boards tightly to see and hear better. Some of the men were becoming irate, their voices rising.

  Then I saw the smaller one—a boy or maybe a young teen shoved into the moonlight shard by one of the men, and right in front of the bishop. My heart stuttered to a stop as my mouth began to open.

  My fingers were almost to the revolver at my side when the cold hands went around my sides, griping my arms tightly. I was pulled back against a hard chest while I struggled against the superior strength. All too quickly my hands were pinned behind me.

  “God damned, but you’re a persistent little bitch.”

  I knew the voice well—and the smell of peppermints.

  34

  DANIEL

  November 18th

  “Whoa. Wait a minute. You’re saying that the woman who brought the boy in with the leg injury was Esther Lapp?” I said, trying to remember something that was tickling at the back of my memory—a conversation that I’d only caught a slice of, not thinking it held any significance when I’d heard it.

  “Yes, I won’t forget her or her name. Most of the Amish women that I’d met at the hospital in the past have been friendly and fairly talkative, but not this woman. She was in a nervous state, her eyes darting around as if she thought the boogey man was going to get her at any second,” Heather said.

  Her face was animated in the light of the kitchen. A kitchen that was perfectly clean and organized—the same as the rest of the house she shared with Todd. I don’t know exactly what I’d been expecting when Todd told me we were heading to his house to talk to his girlfriend, but the immaculate arts and crafts home with its intricate woodwork was definitely not it.

  “And what did she tell you had happened to her son?” I asked in a rushed voice. For no real reason, I was becoming increasingly more worried about Serenity. The desire to get back out on the road with a destination was pressing on me. From a glance at Todd, who hadn’t touched his cup of coffee, instead rubbing his chin with his fingers and staring at Heather, I gathered that he wanted to get moving too.

  Heather took a breath, probably feeding off our tension, and said, “She told me that he’d fallen from a tree. And his injury was consistent with that kind of trauma.” She paused and looked between me and Todd, before saying, “Why, do you think he was abused in some way?”

  That idea hadn’t even entered my mind, but as I gazed at the calendar beside the fridge, a sudden clarity came to me. I stood up, pushing the high backed chair away from me in a sudden movement that made Todd and Heather look up with wide eyes.

  “She lied,” I said.

  “About what?” Todd asked, standing with resolve.

  I met his gaze. “We saw her at the school house benefit dinner—me and Serenity. Serenity noticed Mervin limping and asked Esther what had happened to him. Esther said that he’d fallen from a horse…a few days before.”

  Todd shook his head slightly, “But, maybe he had fallen from a horse, after he fell from a tree. He’s an Amish kid, after all. They’re always having accidents. I can’t count how many calls I’ve had—”

  I interrupted him. “Don’t you see—the timing is all wrong. Heather said that Esther brought Mervin in around the third week of October. The benefit dinner was just a week ago.”

  I turned to Heather and leaned over the table. “How bad was his injury? Do you think he would have still been limping from it a month later?”

  “Not only would he still have been limping, the doctor told his mother that he shouldn’t be riding horses or playing any sports for a couple of months or he’d have a real risk of needing surgical intervention on the knee.”

  “Why the hell would the woman lie to Heather about her son falling from a horse?” Todd questioned me.

  I shook my head. “I don’t think she lied to Heather—she lied to Serenity. And Serenity caught on to it at the Diner when you all were talking.”

  Todd picked up his jacket and headed for the door with me close on his heels. He didn’t even turn around when he asked, “Do you know where this Lapp family lives?”

  “Yeah, I sure do.”

  “So what do you think is going on here?” Todd growled as he cut through the last bit of traffic before leaving the town’s bustle and heading into the darkness of the countryside.

  I exhaled, not really sure that I wanted to share all my thoughts on the subject with Todd. But, glancing over at his anxious face, I caved.

  “The Amish are secretive about everything—even things that they have no business being tight lipped or even lying about. For some reason, Esther didn’t want the outside world knowing the particulars of Mervin’s injury, which isn’t totally surprising. What I can’t get my head around is why Serenity is so interested in the kid.”

  Without hesitation, Todd said, “Serenity’s smart. I’ve been impressed with her from day one. Even though Tony was a lot more experienced, working for Serenity has been a hell of a lot more enjoyable.”

  “Why’s that?” I asked in a low voice.

  Todd laughed at me, and the sound of it made the heat rise on my face.

  The amusement in his voice came through clearly, when he said, “Hey now, you don’t need to worry about me and Serenity. We’ve known each other since before puberty. Even though she’s gorgeous and all, her personality is way too overpowering. It would take a very strong guy to put up with all that, but I’d imagine there’d be a pleasant reward in the end.”

  “You didn’t tell me why you like working for her so much though,” I said, not entirely believing Todd’s words. I’d bet five hundred bucks right then that if Serenity showed her sidekick the time of day, he’d pee himself.

  “Well, for one thing, she actually talks to me and the other guys in the department, and asks our opinion on matters. Tony never did that. He was a scary tough dude to work for. You just nodded your head and said, ‘Yes, Sir,’ whenever he told you to do something. I think Serenity’s collaborative approach is nice.”

  I digested Todd’s words as we sped down Route 27, heading toward the Amish community. The full moon was huge against the night sky, but the fluffy clouds kept blocking it from vision, causing the passing fields to darken and lighten intermittently. My heart still raced and I couldn’t seem to shake the feeling that Serenity was in some kind of danger. I didn’t even know the woman that well and already she’d gotten under my skin enough that I knew if something happened to her I’d be devastated. Dammit, I didn’t like that kind of feeling at all.

  The dispatcher came over the radio notifying Todd of a house fire at the same time his cell went off.

  “No fucking way,” Todd said angrily into the phone as he hit the brakes, nearly throwing me into the windshield, the seatbelt slicing across my chest and stomach. He made an abrupt U-turn while he grunted a few more words into the phone.

  When he tossed the phone down onto the console, he looked at
me with a wide frown on his lips.

  “We need to go back to town, man. There’s a house fire,” he said.

  “Dammit—let the fire department handle it. What we need to do is go to the Lapps and see if Serenity was there today.”

  Todd sighed irritably before saying, “Its Serenity’s house that’s on fire.”

  35

  SERENITY

  November 18th

  There was no use in struggling further. Tony had me in a tight hold and I decided that conserving my energy was my best bet at the moment. There was a dreamlike feeling to the whole scene; the puffy dark clouds in the sky framing the moon’s giant orb, the sight of a dozen black horses and buggies lined up in the tall grass, each hitched to a long length of wooden pole running down the side of the barn. And, of course the fact that I was being half dragged, half carried by the ex-sheriff of Blood Rock into a remotely located barn filled with riled up Amish men, added to the surreal feel of the night.

  I was so pissed at myself that I couldn’t completely let the fear that probably should have been gripping my insides take hold. I’d been such a fool to approach the barn by myself. I guess, somewhere in the sleepy part of my brain, I’d really believed that dealing with the Amish wasn’t something to be feared. Unfortunately, I’d learned differently, the hard way.

  My eyes were accustomed to the darkness, but I was still surprised when Tony hauled me into the inky interior of the building and I was able to make out the silhouettes of the men’s frames. Our scuffling caused them to turn our way. The sight of the bearded men, with their black coats blending into the shadows around them, and staring their accusing eyes staring silently at me, made my heart skip. I swallowed a gulp when Bishop Esch came to us with long, purposeful strides.

  “What is the meaning of this, Tony?” the bishop hissed, the whites of his eyes meeting mine for a second before he raised them to Tony’s face.

  I felt a little better that the Amish leader sounded bothered that Tony had a hold of me, but not much.

  “Look what I found peeking in between the boards on the far side, Aaron—a little blond spy.” Tony chuckled.

  I began struggling again with more vigor and Tony gripped me harder.

  “Let her go, Tony,” Bishop Esch ordered.

  When Tony didn’t immediately comply, I said, “Yeah, Tony, listen to your boss like a good doggie.” I probably shouldn’t have goaded him, but I couldn’t help it, feeling that the bishop might be swayed to my side. Again, the fact that these were Amish people kept invading my brain, telling me that, surely, they wouldn’t hurt me.

  “Tony, release her!” Moses Bachman called out from the group. The sound of his voice was music to my ears, and seeing him stride from the crowd made me go limp in Tony’s arms.

  “God dammit,” Tony growled near my ear before he shoved me toward the group. The hard push sent me sprawling onto the ground and into the musty dirt that smelled as old as the barn looked.

  The thirteen Amish men, plus Tony, folded in around me, making an impassable circular wall. No one came forward to offer me a hand up from the ground. Instead, they all stood silently watching me, waiting. What they were waiting for, I didn’t know, but I’d been quietly observing the nonsense long enough.

  I pushed myself up off the ground in as fluid a movement as I could muster. After wiping the dust from my hands to my jeans, I turned to face the bishop. I noted that Moses was beside the leader, but I ignored him, directing my question to the Amish preacher.

  “Could you please explain to me, Bishop Esch, what the hell is going on here? And why your goon, Tony Manning, attacked me, forcing me into this building? Hell, if you’re going to be answering questions, I’d like for you to explain to me why this shithead,” I jabbed my thumb towards Tony, “is your bull dog anyway?”

  “You’re not in the position to be demanding answers, girlie,” Tony said, all anger gone from his voice, to be replaced with an amused drawl.

  I turned, walking the few steps to reach him. I pointed my finger in his face and said, “You are in such deep shit over this one, Tony. I’ll see to it that charges are brought against you for assault and kidnapping. Being that I’m a police officer and the sheriff, you won’t be wiggling your way out of it.”

  Tony lifted his head and laughed heartily, sounding like a mad Santa Clause. I noticed from the sides of my vision that several of the men were shaking their heads at Tony’s display. The bishop and Moses were statues though. From my quick survey of the circle and the men’s closer proximity, I took in something else about my captors. Most of them were the older men of the community.

  “I’m just shaking in my boots.” Tony held out his hand. “Can’t you just see how I’m shaking?”

  “Hush, now, Tony. That won’t help matters at all,” Bishop Esch said. His voice forced my gaze back on him, and I reluctantly left my arch nemesis to stand before the Amish leader again.

  “Are you going to answer my questions, Bishop? Or do I have to haul all your asses into town?” I made a sweep with my head of the group, before I settled back on the bishop, who, to my amazement and chagrin, held a placid expression on a face that hinted of no worry at my authority over him.

  “Really, Serenity, Tony is right. You are in no position to be ordering me around. You are in our territory now—private property owned mutually by each and every Amish man in this building. You are the one trespassing a and thus, breaking the law,” the bishop said smugly.

  I could barely believe my ears. Was he for real? Since I was investigating a murder I had some rights that the bishop was obviously not aware of. But the numerous posted NO TRESPASSING signs I had ignored on my way to the barn plagued my mind a bit. A good defense lawyer would have a field day with that.

  “Regardless of the trespassing issue, Mr. Esch, it is a crime to hold me here against my will,” I thundered the words to the room, hoping that at least a few of them would be willing to stand up to the others in my defense. My eyes met Mo’s again, and I thought—of all the Amish, he owed me one.

  With a sweep of his hand and a sudden opening of the circle, the bishop said, “By all means, Sheriff Adams, you are welcome to leave us. We do not keep you here against your will. So be gone from us with your meddling mind. We have nothing more to say to you.”

  Aaron Esch’s voice held the determination of a serious man, and my heart suddenly plummeted realizing that I would get no evidence about Naomi’s death, and besides the assault charges I could press against Tony, I had nothing on the Amish. I wasn’t really confident that District Attorney Riley, a good old buddy of Tony’s, would be all that helpful either.

  Still, as embarrassing as it would be to walk away from the old barn and the laughing eyes of the Amish men, it would also be a huge relief. For a minute there, I really thought I might end up like the women in Will’s horror movies—in several pieces.

  Shaking my head in disgust, I turned and headed for the opening in the man-made wall. I didn’t get the chance to cross out of the circle though, before there was a rushing sound up behind me, joined with the frantic words, “I know who done it, Sheriff. I saw who shot Naomi Beiler.”

  Just as I was turning to see who’d spoken, the force of a hard object hit the side of my head. What it was, I can’t say, but immediately, a thousand sparks peppered my vision.

  Then I hit the hard, dry dirt of the barn.

  36

  DANIEL

  Early Morning, November 19th

  The sight of Serenity’s home completely engulfed in flames stopped my heart. Even with the two fire trucks and their hoses spraying water at the towering streaks of red and yellow, there was no doubt that the house would be a complete loss. But, much more important than the house, was Serenity, and the unthinkable—that she might be in there.

  I was being kept back by a volunteer fireman who’d grabbed hold of me when I ran with Todd towards the flames. Todd had shouted to the man to restrain me. I felt pretty sure that if I fought a little harder I
could have broken free from the burly, bearded fellow who held me, but the sight of the skeleton of the house collapsing made me stop struggling. No one could have survived that. If Serenity was in there, she was a goner.

  The cries of a nearby woman pulled my shocked gaze sideways until she came into view. The woman had dark blond hair and a slender body. She was clutching a man, and a teenage girl in a tight embrace. Recognition dawned on me—Serenity’s family.

  The fireman, who must have sensed that I’d given up trying to reach the house, released me. He jogged over to the nearest fire truck, but I barely noticed, my focus on watching Todd as he stood huddled with the woman, who could only be Serenity’s sister.

  Serenity couldn’t have been in the house, my mind reasoned. She would have had the emergency training to get out of a burning building. That is, unless, she wasn’t able to. I started to think dark, sinister thoughts as I approached the little group, taking in the tear streaked face of the teenager as she stared, open mouthed at the remnants of her aunt’s home.

  “Are you absolutely sure, Laura, that you don’t have any ideas where Serenity could be?” Todd asked, his one hand resting on Laura’s shoulder.

  She sniffed and wiped her face roughly with her hand. Shaking her head, she said, “No. She didn’t say a thing to me about leaving town, or going anywhere, even for a day. Like I told you, the last time I heard from her was when she texted me about the baby’s paternity. I texted her back, inviting her to dinner, but she never responded.”

  As activity swirled around us, voices boomed out, and the heat from the fire touched my skin with an awful caress. The whole fiasco had gotten so damn out of control. Did Tony Manning—or the Amish, have something to do with the burning of Serenity’s house, and her disappearance? I could hardly believe that the Plain people would be involved in any of this, but then suspicions still nagged at me about the men I grew up respecting and fearing. I remembered with a cold chill, even with the flames at my back, how the older men, father included, would disappear some nights. There had been talk among the young people of secret meetings in the dark, where our community’s business was decided and manipulated. Would Aaron and my father be so intent on protecting the community that they would hurt an outsider? I didn’t want to believe it, but I couldn’t completely deny the possibility any longer.