by Kelly Irvin
“That’s a compliment, believe it or not.” Ezekiel leaned against the torn vinyl seat and watched the dark night flash by. He couldn’t make out any details. Life was like that sometimes. It flashed by so fast he couldn’t recall how he’d gotten to this day, this moment. “If we find something, we’ll have to tell Freeman.”
“It will be necessary.” Mary Katherine’s tone was calm. “He’ll know what to do next.”
Regardless of the consequences. Ezekiel would like to spare her those consequences. Or face them with her.
The car shuddered, its frame shook, the motor revved. Tony cussed. This time louder.
Burke leaned forward and patted his shoulder. “You catch more flies with honey than vinegar, son.”
“Don’t give up on me now, baby, come on, girl.” Tony patted the dash. “You’re a peach, babe.”
“My first car was an Impala, standard V-8, baby blue,” Burke explained. “I called her baby too.”
Ezekiel shook his head. “I guess I love my horses too, but I don’t call them baby.”
Tony made a sudden right turn off the highway onto a dirt road. Everyone heaved left and then straightened.
“Why did you turn here?” Mary Katherine echoed the question one second after Ezekiel voiced it.
“This is the way.” Tony leaned forward, arms around the wheel as if peering beyond the headlights. “The turnoff is somewhere up ahead on the left.”
Her eyebrows arched, Mary Katherine swiveled and looked back. Consternation ran rampant in her face.
Likely she could see it in Ezekiel’s as well.
“What is it? Whose property is this?” Burke leaned toward his window and peered into the dark.
“Freeman’s.”
A few seconds later, Tony swerved again. They all heaved right and then straightened. They bounced along a dirt road with ruts so deep a wagon could disappear in them.
Another right turn onto a road—more of a narrow path. The route didn’t lead to Freeman’s house, for which Ezekiel gave thanks. The path ended. They drove through high grasses and wove between trees. The headlights bounced up and down in a crazy, dizzying pattern. “How did you ever find this?”
“I followed Ma—one of them out here. After . . . the person left, I snooped around and found Miz Ropp’s stuff.” Tony’s voice was matter-of-fact. “Your stuff is there too, but I didn’t have time to get it. I was sure Ma—he was coming back.”
They rounded a curve, a second one, and finally came to a stop. “It’s over that little rise there. I don’t want to get too close in case someone is there.” Tony turned off the engine and killed the lights. “I have a couple of flashlights. I keep an emergency kit in the trunk because this heap is always breaking down.”
They climbed out and followed him up the slope. Ezekiel let Mary Katherine go first. Her breathing came light and fast. Her sneakers slipped in the loose dirt. She stumbled. He took the opportunity to grab her arm. “I’ve got you.”
She looked back. Her expression was lost in the shadows of clouds rambling across the sky, capturing the moon, and then letting it escape. “Danki.”
A smile chimed in the single word. She was getting her adventure. Crazy thing for a Plain woman of a certain age to want, but he understood—a little. Besides, if she wanted it, he wanted it for her. She wasn’t getting her bookstore. She could use this in a story someday. A story he hoped to read.
At the top Tony hunkered down in the tall grass and pointed. “That’s it.”
It was the shambled remnants of a small, two-story stone house. The clouds scattered and the half moon shone down on it. Abandoned. Gray. Perfect in its isolation. Someone had boarded up the windows with plywood. The wood porch had disintegrated until only four steps a few feet from the sagging door were left.
“How far are we from Freeman’s farmhouse?” Mary Katherine knelt next to Ezekiel. Her voice held trepidation. “Does he know he has outbuildings this far out, do you think?”
“A couple of miles. I reckon Freeman has been over every inch of this property since he bought it thirty years or more ago.” Ezekiel swatted a swarm of gnats. “He may not have been out here recently, though, or even in the last few years. No reason. When they bought the land, they built a new house. They never lived in this one the Englischers used to live in. It was a mess even then.”
“Which makes it perfect for a hideout for a bunch of kids. Who would look for them on an Amish man’s property?” Burke lowered the flashlight he’d commandeered. “I don’t see any cars. We need to get in there.”
“What makes you think it’s kids?” Tony’s teeth chattered. The boy needed a jacket. “It could be druggies or a homeless guy.”
“Stealing mantel clocks and chess pieces?” Mary Katherine snorted, a most unwomanly sound. “And how would you and Nicole know about it?”
“Because your friends from school did this.” Burke knelt next to Tony. He elbowed him. “Admit it. Your friends thought it would be fun to hang out and drink beer someplace where no one would think to look—an Amish farm.”
“They’re not my friends, and they never invited me to do anything.” Tony groaned. He smacked his forehead with the palm of one hand. “They’ll find out I told you, and I’ll have to move.”
“Why take things from Amish folks?” The images of Bobby, Mark, and the other boys hooting and hollering in his restaurant paraded in Ezekiel’s mind. What would they want with his teakettle or pot holders? “Why not take something they could use?”
“It’s a game. Like an initiation. Get in the house, grab something to prove you were there, then get out without getting caught.” Tony heaved a sigh. “It’s sick, but it’s like a thrill for them. They don’t do drugs and they don’t have money, so they can’t be seen with a new camera or an iPad. Their parents would be like, where did you get that? This is totally for kicks. Totally for the high they get from breaking in.”
“Nicole will be proud of you for doing this.” Mary Katherine squeezed his shoulder. “I reckon she’ll even go out on a date with you.”
“You think—?”
“Let’s focus.” Burke started down the hill. “Let’s find Sunny and get out of here. We’ll call the sheriff afterward.”
Ezekiel went first. Single file they tromped through overgrown weeds and mud to the barn. Tony took the lead at the bottom. The door creaked and groaned, sounds far too loud in the night. Ezekiel took the flashlight from Tony. Its stream revealed a large open space that must’ve been the living room with the kitchen at the far end. Five or six folded camp chairs sat in a half circle around an empty fireplace that held the half-burned remnants of several logs. Plastic sports-drink bottles, pop cans, beer cans, beef jerky bags, and an assortment of other junk-food trash littered the floor. The place smelled of dust, mildew, and burnt wood.
To one side the squatters had fashioned makeshift shelves using half-rotted planks and five-pound coffee cans. Ezekiel rested the bolt cutters on his shoulder and stared. A copy of Martyrs Mirror was propped against the wall. He touched the cover. Probably a wedding gift. Precious to its owners although it had no value to the thieves, who wouldn’t understand the significance of seventeen centuries of Christian martyrdom from the time of Christ to AD 1660. Next to it lay a child’s faceless doll. Some little girl was missing her favorite toy. Then the faded tumbling blocks crib quilt—Bess’s family heirloom. Mary Katherine scooped it up and hugged it to her chest.
“You probably shouldn’t touch that.” Burke spoke up. “All of this is evidence. We’ll have to call the sheriff.”
Her expression stubborn, Mary Katherine backed up a step. “This belongs to Bess. She’ll give it to her firstborn daughter, who’ll give it to her daughter.”
“She’ll get it back, I promise.” Ezekiel gently tugged the quilt from Mary Katherine’s arms. “Dan will understand.”
The thieves thought these small items with no material value would mean nothing. True material things were not to be hoarded or given undue
importance, like idols, but they meant something to their owners. Next to a black Sunday hat on the bottom shelf lay his pot holders, the teakettle, and his calendar.
“It reminds me of a museum.” Burke stood next to Ezekiel. His face was hidden in the shadows, but his disgusted tone said it all. “A shrine to their thievery prowess.”
A soft whimper grew into a whine and then all-out barking. Ezekiel broke away from the display and strode toward the padlocked door on the other side of the fireplace. The others were right behind him.
“Sunny? Sunny!” He snapped the padlock on the first try. “We’re getting you out.”
Talking to a dog like he was a missing child. Ezekiel didn’t care. Sunny didn’t deserve to be kidnapped and held hostage by some ornery, selfish teenagers.
Burke jerked open the door. Sunny tore through and leaped straight into Ezekiel’s arms, knocking him on his behind. “Whoa, hey, hey.” The dog stood on Ezekiel’s chest and lapped at his face, his woofs mingled with the rough wetness of his tongue. Slobber dripped on Ezekiel’s face. “Okay, you mangy mutt, that’s enough.”
“He missed you.” Mary Katherine patted Sunny’s head and scratched behind his ears. The dog’s tail thumped. He planted a slobbery kiss on her hand. “He misses everyone, it seems.”
“Let’s get out of here.” Tony stuck his hand on the black hat. “I’ll get this stuff.”
“No, no, don’t touch it.” Burke pulled Ezekiel to his feet. “We need to get Deputy Doolittle out here.”
“Deputy Doolittle is already here.”
Ezekiel turned.
Dan strode through the open door.
“So am I.” A scowling Freeman brought up the rear.
THIRTY-FOUR
The ride in the back of the Daviess County Sheriff’s Office cruiser was much smoother, even if it did smell of dirty dog. Mary Katherine sneaked a glance at Ezekiel. He had one hand on Sunny’s back as he stared out the window. He hadn’t said a word since giving Freeman and Deputy Rogers an explanation of their presence at the abandoned farmhouse. Deputy Rogers was still interviewing Tony when Freeman directed them to go home and get some sleep. Poor Tony. His plan to get out of this unscathed had been shot to smithereens. At least now the kids responsible would be properly punished.
Mary Katherine hadn’t been able to read Freeman’s expression. Did he understand why they’d come with Tony to find Sunny? Did he understand the urgency? Did he care? Freeman was a good man. Surely he understood. That didn’t mean he would excuse her participation in the late-night escapade.
Sunny’s happy panting on the seat next to her made it hard for Mary Katherine to regret it. She collapsed against the seat and let the rushing of the dark night air outside the car, the crackle of the radio, and the murmur of conversation between the deputy driving and Burke in the front seat calm her.
“You have a right to be angry with me.” She ventured a small chuckle in Ezekiel’s direction. “But I hope you’ll forgive me.”
“In the first place, I could never be angry with you.” Ezekiel’s voice was low. His head turned from the window. He glanced at the two men in the front seat. They were discussing trout fishing in the Ozarks. Ezekiel leaned over Sunny, who grinned up at him. “Life with you would always be interesting. In the second place, none of this is your fault. It is the fault of a bunch of misguided, spoiled kids who need a trip to the woodshed and a few nights in the county jail to give them a taste of what life behind bars would be like.”
Life with her would always be interesting. Was that a good thing in a Plain wife? Probably not. “I should’ve told Tony to go to the sheriff. I should’ve told Thomas and let him handle it.”
Freeman had said as much before he’d asked if the deputy could give them a ride home with stern instructions not to be late to church in the morning. Morning was only a few hours away. “We’ll talk about this later,” he’d said, his tone ominous.
“Would’ve, could’ve, should’ve.” Ezekiel let go of Sunny. His hand captured hers. It was warm around her icy fingers. “Your heart is always in the right place. Freeman will remember that. I’ll remind him.”
She wrapped her other hand around his. “I don’t know how you can justify my actions. I can’t.”
“You were concerned for your family. You stepped out in faith. You did what you thought was right.”
All those things were true. But Plain women didn’t go gallivanting about the countryside at night with Englischers and a widowed man. She wasn’t in her rumspringa. She was a sixty-year-old widow with ten grown children. She knew better.
Freeman’s son had seen lights at the old house earlier in the evening and told his father. He called Dan Rogers. They’d been watching the place, waiting. After interrogating Tony, Deputy Rogers had decided to continue to surveil—as he called it—the house until the true perpetrators—again his words—showed their faces. According to Tony, they always came there to party after games. The next one was in a few days.
Tony wasn’t completely off the hook, but Deputy Rogers seemed to believe his story.
The car turned into the drive that led to her dawdy haus. Thomas’s house was dark still. He didn’t know of her escapade, but he would. Soon.
Ezekiel’s hand tightened around hers. “I’ll tell him I plan to be responsible for you.”
“You’ll what?”
“Here we are, Mrs. Ropp.” Deputy Seth McKenzie peered at them with serious amber eyes in the rearview mirror. He’d removed his hat when he got in the car, revealing a massive mound of curly brown hair that added at least an inch to his skinny six-foot frame. “Somebody—probably Deputy Rogers—will be by to take your statement tomorrow.”
She’d already given her statement to Deputy Rogers and Freeman. “I have church in the morning.”
“Understood.”
Ezekiel still held her hand. She didn’t want to let go either.
“Walk her to the door, man.” Burke’s voice held a note of laughter. He didn’t turn around. The deputy’s deep, hoarse chuckle followed. “Good grief.”
“That’s not necessary.” She tugged her hand free and shoved her door open. “Thank you for the ride, Deputy. Good night, Burke.”
Ezekiel met her on the other side. Together they walked up the steps. She put her hand on the doorknob and looked up at him. “I am sorry.”
“I’ve been thinking.”
“You have?”
“I’ve been thinking about how much I like to read.”
Odd topic of conversation for the predawn hours after a night spent running after thieves and a beloved mutt. “You never mentioned that.”
“With Burke around the house always reading, I caught the bug. I’m halfway through The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. It’s slow going. Sometimes I read it out loud to Sunny, before he went missing. It was Burke’s idea—Huckleberry Finn, not the reading aloud.”
What was he trying to tell her, and why now? She glanced over his shoulder. The deputy had turned the car around so it faced the road. A mournful Sunny stared out the back window at them, his tongue hanging out of his mouth. “I’m not a big fan of Mark Twain.”
“I can see why.”
“Why are we talking about this now?”
“If you want to have a bookstore, don’t give up. Keep praying for Gott’s will.” His hands cupped her cheeks. He kissed her so quickly she didn’t have a chance to kiss him back. “Don’t worry about Freeman or Thomas. Or anyone. You want adventure. I’ll give you adventure.”
“I don’t want adventure.”
Not anymore. It only got people for whom she cared in trouble.
He stomped down the steps. “I lieb you, Mary Kay.”
The words floated in the air, sweet as lilacs and roses.
“Wait. Ezekiel. Wait.”
He slid into the car and it took off, spitting gravel and dust in the air.
“I lieb you too.”
THIRTY-FIVE
If all else fails, bake. Ezekiel checked th
e timer on the oven where two deep-dish dutch apple pies baked. Ten more minutes. He cracked the door and inhaled the heavenly scent. Apple pie smelled like a content marriage. The thought made him smile. Whimsy for a Plain man. That’s what Mary Katherine would call it. Whimsy. A feeling more like nostalgia for something vaguely missed befell him. He breathed it in, welcoming it, and went back to kneading the dough for a double batch of whole-wheat rolls.
The bell dinged. He glanced at the clock overhead. Too early for customers. It must be Esther or one of the waitstaff. He held his flour-covered hands up like a surgeon ready for the operating room and glanced out the double doors of the kitchen.
Burke and Carina stood in the foyer. Burke had his back to Ezekiel. Carina said something. Burke nodded. She held out her arms. Burke stepped into the hug. She laid her head on his chest and Burke’s arms wrapped around her. They stayed that way, not speaking. Ezekiel turned away. A private moment in a very public place. None of his business, for sure. He went back to his task and laid the dough in a bowl and covered it with plastic wrap.
The bell dinged again. A few seconds later Burke pushed through the swinging doors. “Morning.”
“You were out and about early today. Your shift doesn’t start for hours.”
His face etched with the same private-property-keep-out warning as usual, Burke slid off his fleece-lined, red-and-blue-plaid jacket and hung it from a hook on the far wall. “I have a hankering to make pumpkin pie.”
“It’s a little early for pumpkin pie. Thanksgiving is still three weeks away.”
“Maybe I’m thankful now.”
Ezekiel laughed. “Thankful for Carina?”
“Carina’s headed home.”
Ezekiel stuck a mixing bowl and utensils under a stream of hot water in the deep sink. He added a squirt of Palmolive and began to scrub. Tiny soap bubbles floated in the air, reminding him of Liliana. She loved bubbles. “You’re not going with her?”
“I like it here.” Burke washed his hands in the adjoining sink and dried off. “I like my job.”
