“No...I’m a high school counselor. A few faculty cars had been egged the week before. That’s all it was.” She scooted out of the car and brushed past him, turning her back to the crash site. “I took the job to help kids. If I ratted them out every time they looked at me sideways, they wouldn’t trust me.” Goodness knew where she’d be if her high school counselor hadn’t reached out to her.
“Anything strange besides the note?” The concern in his voice melted her composure.
Tears blurred her vision and she quickly blinked them away. “Other than the occasional disgruntled student—who is harmless, I can assure you—I live a pretty boring life.”
“Is there anyone you want me to call for you?”
“No,” she whispered, staring over the cornfields. An uneasiness seeped into her bones. Her brother tended to be the paranoid one, not her. But she couldn’t dismiss it. History told her things weren’t always what they seemed. “Can I see your credentials?” Anna met his assessing gaze; flecks of yellow accented his brown eyes. She turned the leather ID holder over in her hands. Special Agent Eli R. Miller. It seemed legitimate.
“You met my brother in person?” She studied him, eager to read any clues from the smooth planes of his handsome face. She wanted to ask: Did Daniel seem okay? Was he thin? Dragging a hand over her hair to smooth the few strands that had fallen out of her ponytail, she was ashamed she didn’t know the answers. Ashamed she had grown estranged from her big brother. Dear Lord, please forgive me. Let me find peace through this nightmare.
Special Agent Miller hiked a dark eyebrow. “Yes. We talked briefly a week ago. I had some questions concerning his return to Apple Creek.”
Anna jerked her head back. “I don’t understand. He was in Apple Creek working on his photography. Why would the FBI be concerned about my brother’s whereabouts?” Foreboding mingled with the acrid fumes hanging in the air.
“Your brother went to Genwego State University, right?”
“Yes.” She furrowed her brow. “He dropped out his senior year. What does that have to do with anything?”
“I’m working a cold case. I’ve been re-interviewing people who lived in the area ten years ago.”
“Was my brother able to help you?”
“No. But when I met with him, he was worried about his safety and yours. I had a sense he was somewhat relieved I had contacted him.”
“Do you think I’m in danger?”
They locked eyes. He seemed to hesitate a moment before saying no.
She reached into her car and pulled out her purse. She dug out a new business card. Holding it between two fingers, she offered it to him. “May I trade you?”
He accepted the new card and handed her the old one. She flipped it over. In her handwriting on the back she had written: I’m only a phone call away. The faded ink was water-stained, but the message was clear. Yet the phone calls between her and her brother had become few and far between.
As she slipped the old business card into a pocket of her purse, the clip clop clip of what sounded like a horse reached her ears. She froze as a horse and buggy made its way along the country road. A man in a brimmed straw hat gently flicked the reins, urging the horse on. Tipping his hat, he seemed to make direct eye contact with the FBI agent as he passed.
Outlined against the purple and pink hues of the evening sky, the buggy maintained its steady progress until it crested the hill and disappeared. Anna made a full circle, taking in her surroundings, including the vast cornfield that greeted her brother’s demise. She had been so focused on the crash site—on her distress—she hadn’t noticed a neat farmhouse at the top of a long driveway across from the cornfields. A white split-rail fence ran the length of the property. A buggy, the same style as the one that had passed, sat next to the barn a hundred feet or so from the house. The early-evening shadows muted the details, but she realized something she had missed in her distracted state. “An Amish family lives here.”
Special Agent Miller nodded, seemingly unfazed. Obviously he wasn’t likely to miss such specifics. Besides, he had been in Apple Creek before now.
“My brother’s plane crashed on an Amish farm? Ironic.” A nervous giggle escaped her lips. “The very community that shuns most technology has one of man’s modern marvels plummeting to earth on their soil.”
Awareness heated her face when she found him regarding her with a quizzical look. “I’m sorry. I tend to talk too much when I’m upset.” Her gaze drifted back toward the crash site, hidden by the tall cornstalks. “Thank God no one on the ground was hurt.”
Special Agent Miller nodded but didn’t say anything. His economy of words wore on her patience. Fisting her hands, she resisted the urge to slug the information out of him.
Crossing her arms, Anna narrowed her gaze. It wasn’t beyond a law enforcement officer to lie to get what he wanted. She had learned that the hard way. “Why are you really here, Special Agent Eli Miller?”
* * *
The pain in Anna’s eyes spoke volumes despite her display of false bravado. Eli refused to add to her burden, but his conscience didn’t allow him to flat-out lie, either. “As I said, your brother’s name came up in regard to a ten-year-old cold case.” The words rang oddly distant in his ears. This wasn’t exactly any case.
“Is...was—” she quickly changed tense “—Daniel in some kind of trouble?” Her pink-rimmed hazel eyes pleaded for the truth.
“Ma’am.” A baby-faced police officer emerged from the cornfield carrying a green garment. “I understand you’re the deceased’s sister.” Nodding, Anna’s eyes widened. “This was in the plane.” He held out what looked to be an army jacket.
She grabbed the garment and hugged it to her chest. “Thank you.” The officer tipped his hat, respectful of her loss.
“We need someone to identify the body.” The officer tapped his fingers nervously against his thigh.
Anna dropped her head and covered her mouth with her hands. “I don’t know....”
“Where’s the sheriff?” Eli asked. “I thought he’d be out here.”
“No, sir, I’m handling this one.” The officer tucked his thumbs into his belt and looked at Anna. “We really need you to identify the body, Miss Quinn.”
Growing impatient with the officer’s insistence, Eli stepped forward, partially blocking Anna in a protective gesture. “I knew the deceased. I’ll do it.”
Anna lifted her head. “This is something I need to do.” Her voice broke over the last few words. “Where...?” Her gaze drifted toward the cornstalks as if she imagined traipsing through the field and finding her brother’s bruised and battered body on the ground.
The officer’s wary gaze moved to Eli, then back to her. “The morgue is at Apple Creek Hospital. I can take you. It’s getting dark and it’s easy to get turned around on these country roads.”
“Let me drive you.” Eli placed his hand on her trembling arm.
Anna
