Amish believed the agricultural life was as close to God as you could get.
“Anna’s brother died in the crash.” Eli leaned back in the rocker. The wood felt cool through his thin dress shirt. His grandfather had made these chairs when Eli was a boy. He had been fascinated watching his grandfather work.
“Your mother told me.” Abram faced his son, his features heavily shadowed. “But you have been in Apple Creek often over the past month.”
“Yes, but never overnight. I drove back and forth to Buffalo.” Eli was reluctant to share too much information with his father. They lived in different worlds. “If our staying here is going to cause problems, I’ll take Anna to the motel in town.”
Abram lifted his hand. “I suppose the bishop will understand the circumstances surrounding your temporary stay.” His emphasis was not lost on Eli.
“Thank you.” He wrapped his fingers around the smooth arms of the rocker. “How did you know I’ve been in town recently?”
“Isaac Lapp mentioned he saw you in town.” Figures. The same age as Eli, Isaac had been courting his sister, Katie Mae, almost ten years his junior. Isaac had left Apple Creek to work on a ranch out west years ago, only to return to fully join the Amish faith about eighteen months ago. His family owned the Apple Creek General Store in town and had welcomed him back with open arms.
And Isaac liked to talk.
“You’re chasing a ghost.” Abram’s statement startled Eli. His father never asked about the investigation that had consumed Eli for the past ten years.
“I have new leads.”
“You need to let your sister rest.”
My sister. Ten years ago, his sweet sister Mary had disappeared while in town with him. She was only five at the time and he was eighteen. She had been his responsibility. Guilt and anguish sat like rocks in his gut. “I can’t.”
Under the white glow of the moonlight, his father’s eyes flashed. “You are wasting your life. You need to forgive the man who did this.”
“You say you have forgiven him, but you have not moved on. Last time I stopped by, you were still leaving Mary’s chair empty at the table.”
“Your mother...” His words trailed off. Eli waited for his father to continue, but he didn’t.
“Dat...” The word felt strange on his lips. “I didn’t come here to fight. I came here because I have unfinished business.”
“Your unfinished business is a constant, painful reminder to your mother of everything we have lost. We need to have faith and trust in God that Mary is now in His care. Does Anna know you are investigating her brother?” Abram’s pointed words hit their mark.
Eli looked up with a start, then glanced toward the screen door. “Did you hear that from Isaac?”
“Isaac had told me to keep an eye on Daniel Quinn because he had been taking photographs in the area.” Abram pointed to the cornfield across the way. “This is the same man who died today?”
Eli nodded.
Abram’s hand dropped to his side. “Daniel spent a lot of time taking photographs. Claimed they were for a book or some magazine or some such. He seemed respectful. He only took photos of the property. He knew we didn’t want to be photographed.” Abram fingered his unkempt beard. “Isaac thought we should be aware of who was wandering our property.”
Eli scratched his head. “Who else knows I am investigating Daniel?” His mind raced with the implications.
“No one else in the family as far as I know. I told Isaac not to scare the women with his gossip. The next time Daniel had come around, I had asked him to please respect our privacy. I thought it best he not take photographs on our farm anymore.”
“How did he respond?”
“He complied. He was always polite. Seemed like a sincere young man,” Abram said. “I can’t believe this man hurt a child. I am reluctant to believe Isaac.” His voice grew low. “It’s hard to comprehend such evil.”
The pain in his father’s eyes tore at Eli’s soul. His father rarely mentioned his youngest daughter, Mary.
Eli glanced toward the door, hoping Anna was still upstairs. “Father, we can’t discuss this now. I don’t want to jeopardize my investigation.”
Abram crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the railing. “You have not chosen our way of life, but I raised you better than this.”
“I am not going to stop looking for the truth.” Frustration and anger warred for control.
“Truth?” Abram’s bushy eyebrows shot up. “Then don’t lie to Daniel’s sister. Tell her your suspicions.”
“I only met her today. I owe her nothing.” The harsh words scraped across his nerves. Had he become so single-minded in his focus that he had lost all sight of others’ feelings? Anna’s trusting eyes came to mind. It had always been about finding the person who hurt Mary. He never imagined his prime suspect would have a family of his own who might be destroyed by his investigation.
Eli softened his tone. “You’ll never understand my choices, but there are things I have to do for my job.”
His father’s lips drew into a straight line. The Amish were not selfish people. They didn’t make choices based on personal preferences and desires. They made decisions for the good of the entire community.
He met his father’s gaze. “I have to do it for Mary.”
FOUR
Dressed in sweats, a T-shirt and a hoodie, Anna stuffed her feet into her running shoes and tiptoed downstairs. A recurring nightmare had her up before dawn and she thought she’d go crazy inside the small confines of the sterile room. No television, no radio, no electronics. Nothing to distract her. She opened the front door, surprised to find it unlocked. Stepping onto the front porch, she took in the Miller’s barn and the dense foliage on the surrounding hills. The first hint of pink colored the sky. The sun hadn’t yet poked out over the trees.
A quiet rustling made her glance over her shoulder at the house. For all she knew, the Miller women were up preparing breakfast already. The men were probably in the barn doing their early-morning chores. Not ready to face anyone yet, she jogged down the porch steps and stopped by the road to stretch. A soft wind blew across the cornfields, sending a hint of acrid smoke in her direction. A tightness squeezed her chest.
Focusing all her attention on the ground directly in front of her, she tipped her head from side to side, easing out the kinks. Determined to exercise away her mounting stress, she started her jog on the left side of the road, facing traffic. However, she didn’t expect to see any cars at this early hour in the country. As her sneakers hit the pavement, she tried to get into a rhythm. But the image of her brother’s cold dead body in the morgue seeped into her brain only to be replaced by more graphic images of her dead mother and father.
She pumped her arms harder. The steady incline of the road forced her to concentrate on her breathing, the placement of her feet, her stride. Soon,
