“The authorities in our area have turned a blind eye on the problem. They will not help us,” he said with some harshness.
I started to think about all the toes I’d be stepping on if I got involved. I knew firsthand how small rural areas did not welcome outsiders—English or Amish. The very thought that my mind had already begun to prepare for the turmoil ahead told me that I was truly losing it. But I had to admit that something about these secretive people fascinated me. And here I was, being given an invitation into their hidden world. I was up for two weeks of vacation after the holidays anyway. Maybe it would be a good idea to take a working vacation—but, not alone. Shit. I looked over at Daniel, and by something in the way his eyes softened, I knew that he’d go with me if I asked.
But I’d wait until the last minute to talk to him about it. I needed to make sure that I really wanted that kind of drama added into the mix before I impulsively invited him.
Shifting my focus back onto the Amish man, something about his posture and his eyes told me there was more that he wasn’t telling me.
“Is there anything else I should know about this case, Rowan—I don’t like surprises.”
The man lifted his gaze to the ceiling and he shifted his weight before he settled and seemed resolved.
“There is one thing that would interest you. In the last barn that burned…there was a body found.”
My heart slowed. Damn.
Karen Ann Hopkins, Lamb to the Slaughter
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