by Ruth Reid
Roslyn studied her missing child as she walked away.
“What was all that about?” Brandon asked.
Tears gathered on her lashes. “That’s our daughter. That’s Adriana.”
His face paled as he reached for the glass of water. He took a drink, set the glass on the table, and folded his hands. “This is the lead you’re following up on? Why you wanted to eat here?”
“Yes, she’s—” Roslyn quieted as Faith stopped at the table next to theirs. She leaned forward and lowered her voice. “Don’t you see the resemblance?”
He studied her a moment. “No, not really.” His brows drew together.
Roslyn held up her hand before he spoke. “Please,” she said. “A mother knows her child.” She hoped. Her shoulders dropped and she slumped back in the chair. This was more than wishful thinking. The waitress resembled both of them. Roslyn peered at the next table over, eyeing Faith. The longer she stared, the more convinced Roslyn became. Her child had been found. Her feet began to bounce, her hands started to tremble. Unable to sit in one place for long, she shifted in her seat. She reached for Brandon’s arm and gave it a gentle squeeze. Maybe she should step outside, calm herself . . . call Chrisla. Her sister would be ecstatic.
Brandon broke her concentration. “The cabin we rented is nice, don’t you think?”
“Yes, it’s very comfortable.”
“Maybe we should talk to a real estate agent about looking at vacation homes for sale in the area. I’d like something on the water and larger than the cabin.”
Roslyn smiled. “I’d like that too.” They had talked about buying a summer home when they first were married, but after Adriana’s kidnapping, they didn’t have much reason for a family getaway. When they vacationed, they stayed in one of the Colepepper Hotels and Brandon worked most of the time. Now they would have a reason to escape the city and relax.
Brandon rambled on about tax write-offs if the second home was large enough to host executive weekend retreats.
Roslyn watched as the beautiful young lady refilled coffee mugs and chatted with the customers. She hadn’t meant to make the child think she was being summoned but was pleased when Faith stopped at their table with the pot.
“Would you care for more coffee, sir?”
“Yes, please.” Brandon handed her his mug. His gaze lingered on the teenager a few seconds too long. Then, when the girl’s hands trembled, he seemed to panic. “So, have you worked here long?”
“All mei life. Well, I, ah . . . I didn’t exactly work here all mei life. The last four years.” Her eyes darted from Brandon to the coffee mug, back to Brandon.
The poor child was breathing hard and stammering. Brandon was making her nervous. Roslyn kicked him under the table.
Faith overfilled the mug. “Ach! I’m so sorry. I hope I didn’t burn your hand.”
“No,” Brandon said, rotating his hand. “See, I’m fine.”
“But maybe you could bring him an empty mug.” Roslyn picked up the tin container of milk. “He likes cream in his coffee, and now it’s too full to add it.”
“I don’t need—”
Roslyn kicked his shin again.
“I’ll bring another mug right away.” The young woman hurried away.
“You can’t stare like that, you were making her nervous.”
He furrowed his brows. “What’s up with kicking me under the table?”
“Here she comes.” Roslyn looked up and smiled as Faith approached.
Faith set down the mug. “Are you sure you’re okay? I feel awful for spilling kaffi on you.”
“Please don’t worry about it,” Brandon said, using a calm, reassuring tone.
Faith pointed her thumb over her shoulder. “I’m going to check on your order.”
Roslyn waited until Faith went into the kitchen, then addressed her husband. “You were staring again.”
Brandon groaned. “You told me to look for resemblances.”
“And?”
He half shrugged, half nodded. “You’ll need better proof.”
“I’m working on it,” she said, thankful he didn’t bring up all the kooks who professed to be their daughter or who said they knew Adriana only to stake claim to the reward money. Roslyn used the napkin to pick up the empty coffee mug. She glanced around the room, then slipped it into her purse.
Brandon frowned.
“I’m going to gather as much evidence as possible.” Roslyn had nicely tucked the mug away when the food arrived.
“Can I get you anything else?”
“If it isn’t too much trouble, I’d like a glass of ice water, please,” Roslyn said, starting to feel guilty about taking up so much of the young woman’s time, while at the same time, pleased with how well Faith handled herself. Her daughter was bright, friendly, and someone to be admired for all she must have gone through. Roslyn enjoyed her chicken salad. She ate slowly—until she realized this was Friday afternoon. How long would it take to have DNA samples tested?
Chapter 36
On Sunday, Faith spied Gideon through the kitchen window arranging the meeting benches under the large maple tree, its crimson leaves waving in the autumn breeze. With Daed’s limited physical activity, Gideon had cut the grass and worked in the yard so the church meeting could be held outside.
Mamm scraped crusted potatoes from the bottom of the frypan. “How are you coming along with Olivia’s birthday gift? Will you have it ready for tomorrow?”
“I finished it last nacht.” Faith had worked hard to complete the quilted journal cover, but even though Olivia was always reading and taking notes, Faith wasn’t sure her gift would be accepted. Olivia’s silence stung. She wouldn’t even acknowledge Faith asking to borrow her brush this morning when she couldn’t find hers.
Mamm lowered the pan into the sink. “I’m sure Gideon’s thirsty. He’s been working hard all morning.”
“I’ll take him a glass of water.” Faith filled a glass and scooted outdoors.
Gideon smiled as she approached. “Guder mariye.”
“Hello.” She held up the drink. “I thought you might be thirsty.”
He guzzled the water, then handed the glass back. “The benches are in position. How many tables does your mamm want set up for the food?”
“Probably two.” The last time her family hosted Sunday service, it had been February. For the preaching, they’d met in the barn and eaten the meal in the house.
The screen door opened, and Daed, using a cane, ambled outside and sat on the swing.
Faith smiled. It was good to see her father moving around more and able to enjoy the fall weather.
“He seems to be doing better,” Gideon said.
“Jah.” Her father had gone through so much to even be able to walk again.
Buggies pulled into the yard, one after the other, and parked next to the fence. Service would get underway soon. Faith strode across the yard to greet the women. “Can I help carry anything?” she asked the bishop’s wife.
“Danki, sweetie.” Alice motioned to a crock. “If you’ll grab the baked beans, I’ll bring in the basket of rolls.” A gust of wind flapped her shawl and she shuddered. “Sure is a breezy day.”
“Jah.” Faith scanned the cloudless sky. “At least the sun’s out. We could have the benches moved in front of the Jack Pines, which might block the wind.”
“Oh, nay.” Alice glanced at Gideon positioning a table. “Gideon’s worked hard to get everything in place.” She retrieved the basket from the back of the buggy and closed the hatch. “He’s been a big help to your father. Worried about him too. When Gideon came to speak with mei husband about Olivia’s shenanigans, he expressed how stressed your father has been.”
Faith suppressed her surprise and nodded soberly.
Noreen King and her sister-in-law, Patty, strolled up to them. “Guder mariye, Alice and Faith,” Noreen said. “It’s such a beautiful day to hold service outside. Nett too hot or kalt.”
The women’s co
nversation buzzed around Faith, but all she could think about was how Gideon had gone to the bishop about the rumors he’d heard—lies he acted on—lies Olivia assumed Faith had spread.
Catherine’s buggy pulled into the yard, and Faith dropped back to wait for her cousin.
“Hiya, Faith. I haven’t seen you in a few hours,” Catherine teased, removing a plate of cheese sandwiches from the buggy bench.
“I found out who ratted out Olivia. It was Gideon.” Faith’s shoulders dropped and heaviness filled her chest. “He didn’t even have the nerve to tell me.”
Catherine’s brows wrinkled. “Don’t be too hard on him. He was looking out for your parents, and besides, as a member of the district, it’s his duty to report something of that magnitude. But it’s gut your mother found the record keeping error. Otherwise . . .”
“What?”
“The men would have met to discuss the best way to handle her actions. After all, Olivia is at the age of decision, and she shows no interest in becoming part of the church.”
Had her mother not found the accounting mistake . . . Faith didn’t want to think of how disastrous it would have been. She set the crock of beans on the table. She glimpsed Gideon standing with the other men, but turned the moment their gazes connected. She slipped away from the women and dashed toward the barn. All the members hadn’t arrived, so she had a few minutes to be alone before service.
When she entered the barn, Starlight neighed. Faith went into the stall and patted the mare’s neck. She hadn’t been there long before light shined in from outside. “Faith?” Gideon’s footsteps tromped behind her and stopped. “Service is about to start. What are you doing out here?”
She continued petting the horse.
“Faith?” He placed his hand on her shoulder and gently pivoted her around. “Talk to me, please.”
Faith stiffened her back. “You talk to me. Why didn’t you tell me you went to the bishop about Olivia? You know she blames me.”
“I’m sorry.” He bowed his head.
“Why did you repeat those lies without proof?”
He sighed. “I know it’s difficult for you to understand, but as a member of the church I have an obligation to inform the elders when I see someone going astray.”
“Acting on mere gossip, you severed any relationship I had with mei sister. She won’t forgive either of us.”
“I’ll talk to her. I’ll tell her the truth.”
“It’s probably too late.” Faith marched off.
The members were starting to find their places on the benches. Men on one side and women and children on the other. Faith joined the group of youth who were taking the baptism classes.
The elder’s teachings dealt with separating oneself from the world. Faith hoped God was speaking to Olivia’s heart. She pondered Gideon’s reason for telling the bishop about Olivia and concluded that she, too, would fully support the rules of their Ordnung—even the part about turning in a fellow believer if she found them doing wrong. A short time later, the baptism class ended with a prayer, and their small group joined the others for the meal.
While the men filled their plates with ham and baked beans, Gideon peered over the dessert table. Faith pretended not to notice him selecting a piece of apple strudel. Once the men filled their plates, the women and children went next. Faith waited for the line to go down before picking up a plate and going to the table. She looked for a place to sit next to Catherine, but the seats were already taken. Olivia was sitting at one end of the table. Surely she would slide over a little to make room. But even if she did, the meal would be awkward. Faith opted to eat inside the house. Fewer flies, anyway. She’d be alone for a change. Normally she enjoyed mealtime with the church family. But today a little distance between Gideon and her would be wise. At the moment, she couldn’t talk about later this evening when they planned to sit on the porch together.
Faith entered the house, expecting to be alone, but found three young mothers with fussy babies sitting in the living room. She motioned to the kitchen and whispered she needed to get something, then tiptoed past the group.
The kitchen table was gone, used outside for the guests. She set her plate on the counter and nibbled on a piece of ham. Once she finished her food, she went back outside, making her way to the dessert table. The younger children were playing tag on the lawn, so more places had opened up on the benches. She selected a slice of her own apple pie and sat next to Catherine.
One of the younger boys playing tag shouted, “A horse is loose,” while pointing somewhere behind the barn that Faith couldn’t see from where she was sitting.
Gideon and a few of the older teens jogged toward the fence.
Faith took a bite of the pie and let the apples and cinnamon melt in her mouth. Hearing commotion near the barn, she turned to watch Gideon approach Starlight. Had she not latched the stall door? The mare spooked and darted away from the youth flagging their arms.
“They’re having quite a time of it,” Catherine said.
“Starlight is a retired racehorse. She’s got spirit.” Faith smiled, eyeing the chase. When the group moved out of sight, she returned to eating her pie. But then another commotion broke out, and not from Gideon’s group. Several police cars pulled into the drive and fanned out. Faith searched the crowd for her parents. Mamm stood next to the food table, her mouth agape. Daed, along with the bishop and elders, ambled toward the officers.
Faith dropped her fork on the plate and bounded up from the bench. She rushed to Mamm’s side. Perhaps the officers had located the hit-and-run driver and wanted to let her parents know. But that wouldn’t take this many officers. She leaned closer to Mamm. “Do you think it’s something to do with the restaurant?” Lord, I pray it wasn’t a fire or vandalism. If so, we’ll lose all the new business brought in from the newspaper article.
Two officers flanked Daed.
Mamm’s face cringed. She must have noticed Daed’s watery eyes too. “Stay here.” She rushed toward Daed, only more officers surrounded her as well, keeping them separate.
Faith glanced over to where Olivia had been sitting, but her sister was gone. At the same time, Catherine sidled up beside Faith and looped her arm around Faith’s. Signaled by one of the officers, Faith clutched Catherine’s arm tighter. “Kumm with me, please.”
Catherine steadied Faith. “Take a deep breath,” her cousin whispered.
Faith moved forward cautiously—until she noticed the police officers escorting her parents to separate cars. She broke from Catherine and ran toward the cars, reaching the nearest one where her mother was sitting in the backseat, sobbing. Panic infused her veins when Mamm didn’t open the door or roll down the window.
An Englisch man, whose only indication he was a policeman was the handgun protruding from the holster strapped around his shoulder, said, “Are you Faith Pinkham?”
“Jah, where are you taking mei parents?” She gasped quick breaths, making her feel light-headed and out of control.
“I’m Special Agent Sanderson of the FBI,” the man said, flashing what must have been his badge. “I need you to come with me.”
“Why?”
“Faith,” the bishop said calmly. “It will be best if you go with them.”
“I haven’t done anything wrong. Why am I being arrested?” Why are you taking Mamm and Daed away?
“You’re not under arrest, miss, but I do have a court order, so you need to come with me.”
Dozens of questions popped in her mind all at once, but as she opened her mouth to speak, she glimpsed the bishop shaking his head, and clamped it closed.
Gideon jogged up to them. “Is something wrong, Faith?”
“I don’t know,” she screeched. Blinking several times, she released the flood of tears, which had clouded her vision.
“If you will kindly step toward the vehicle, we can get on our way,” Agent Sanderson said.
Faith looked again at Bishop Zook for his direction. When he nodded, she followed th
e agent’s instruction and went with him and three others to the dark, unmarked vehicle. She climbed into the backseat, sinking into soft leather. Agent Sanderson took the seat next to her. “You’re safe now,” he said. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”
Safe? She was safe at home.
Faith assumed they were going to the police station in town, but the driver turned the opposite way. “Wh—where are you taking me?” Panic swelled in her throat. The vehicle was moving fast. Faith placed her hand on the door handle. Wait for the oncoming car to pass . . .
“You can’t jump, the door is locked,” Agent Sanderson said. “Please don’t force me to put you in handcuffs.”
“You can’t take me away without mei parents’ permission.”
The man stared straight ahead.
She gritted her teeth. “You said I wasn’t arrested.”
“You’re not in trouble.”
Bishop Zook had given the impression that Faith should stay quiet. Perhaps she should do as instructed. Traveling south on US-23, they passed Alpena, then an hour or so later, Tawas City.
Seated next to her, Sanderson shifted to face her. “Do you need to use the restroom?”
The driver peered at her through the rearview mirror.
Faith shook her head.
The driver continued, merging onto I-75 a few miles later. Once on the interstate, she recognized the same Missing Children’s billboard spaced several miles apart. The sign looked familiar. Where had she seen those pictures before? The Detroit News. The article about the missing child was in the same paper as the article the reporter ran about The Amish Table.
“Are you doing all right?” the agent asked.
How could any of this be all right? “Where are we going?”
“Bloomfield Hills. Are you familiar with the area?”
“Nay.” The farthest she’d traveled from home was Alpena, and they’d passed that town hours ago. “Why are you . . ?” She wept.
The agent handed her a box of tissues. “You’re safe,” he said reassuringly. “We’ve called a special counselor to help you through this transition. I’m sure it’ll be overwhelming at first.”
