“Lester remained Amish,” I remarked.
“The Amish have a Calvinist approach to life. If God intends for something to happen, there’s no stopping it. Lester believes it and so do my sister and parents. I don’t share the sentiment, and I didn’t back then. It was unreasonable to me to put myself into such jeopardy on a daily basis, and then there were all the rules that went against my way of thinking, too. I was a lot like Eli—a rebellious spirit, looking for a way out.”
A gust of wind shook the Jeep. Daniel slowed the vehicle. He reached across the seat with an open hand. I grasped it.
“How are you feeling?” Daniel’s voice was almost too low to hear above the driving rain.
Heat flared across my cheeks and I turned my head away, hoping Bobby hadn’t seen. He was a sharp old man. If Daniel wasn’t careful, Bobby would guess about the possible pregnancy. That was the last thing I needed at the moment. I licked my lips. I’d been too distracted lately to think much about the possibility that I was pregnant. It was a fantastical idea, one that I didn’t want to dwell on.
Glancing sideways, I saw the concern in Daniel’s eyes.
I swallowed. “One crisis at a time. I promise, I’ll focus on that after we get this Amish business cleared up.”
Daniel smiled. “I’d hardly call it a crisis.”
I rolled my eyes. That Daniel seemed to be hoping for a positive pregnancy test was about as unnerving as the fact that I needed to take one in the first place.
The Kuhns’ farm was blurry through the pouring rain. A dozen or more horses and buggies were parked in the driveway. I felt sorry for the horses. Their heads were dropped into the driving rain. Here and there were spots of brightness from the women’s dresses, but otherwise the place was a sheet of gray wetness on the hill.
“Fannie’s funeral is today,” I mumbled.
“So it seems.” Daniel parked and leaned over. “Do you still want to go in there?”
My heart pounded at the sight of a dozen or so Amish men standing in the open doorway of the barn we passed. Their beards were the only hint of color amidst the black of their clothing. I couldn’t help but think back to the scene in the abandoned barn the previous fall. That same group of Amish men had held me captive while they attempted to carry out their own form of vigilante justice.
“We have no choice. Time might be against us,” I said, remembering the desperate look on Hannah’s face. I eyed the backseat. Bobby’s fingers played with his mustache. His eyes were keen. “Stay here, Bobby.”
“Considering the weather conditions, I won’t argue with you,” Bobby replied.
We dashed through the rain to the porch. The patter of a million darts on the tin roof blasted my ears as I rapped on the door. A woman I didn’t know peeked through the doorway. She disappeared, seeking out Irene, I assumed.
The quiet drone of conversation coming from the room was barely noticeable above the building storm. Another flash lit the sky. A cold gust of wet wind swept through the porch.
When I turned back to the door, Irene was standing there. “Sheriff?” Irene lifted her chin.
“I’d like to speak to Hannah.”
A tear dripped from Irene’s eye. She wiped it away. “She’s not here.”
The breath caught in my throat. “Do you know where she is?”
“She left a few hours ago—said she wanted to be alone. I didn’t stop her. Fannie’s death has been difficult on her.” She glanced over my shoulder at the water soaked world. “I thought she’d be home by now, to show respect for her sister.”
I took a step back. “I’m sorry, I know this isn’t the best time, but when she returns, will you have her call me?” I handed Irene another one of my business cards, in case the first one had been lost.
She nodded, slipping back through the door. From the corner of my eye, I saw a flash of color—pinkish—in the loft window of the smaller barn standing off by itself. It might have been my imagination, but the way my stomach twisted, I didn’t think so.
Pushing my hat further down on my head, I motioned for Daniel to follow. Luckily, the rain was keeping the Amish people inside the house or under cover in the larger barn beside the house. As the rain pelted down on us, we ran across the field. A bright flash, joined by a clap of thunder, made me jump, but I kept running.
Daniel stayed close beside me, not wasting time to ask what the hell I was doing.
With a surge of strength, I pushed my legs faster until I reached the barn door. Daniel leaned over me, pushing it open. We stepped into the darkness of the aisle to be greeted by the dank smell of old wood and dirt. Unlike most Amish barns, this one was cluttered with rusty farm machinery that didn’t look like it had been used in a while. A thick coating of dust covered everything. I sneezed before I could stop myself. So much for sneaking up on anyone.
Daniel shook the water from his hair and looked down at me expectantly. I pointed at the loft. Daniel nodded and motioned me to get behind him. I relented. The chances of someone sneaking up on us were just as good as a threat coming from ahead. I reached inside my jacket, pulling my gun out. I raised it in front of me. When Daniel glanced over his shoulder, his eyes widened.
I shrugged. I’ll never be unprepared in an Amish barn again.
Daniel opened the narrow wooden door. The steps were steep and they creaked loudly as he crept up them. I took the steps as lightly as I could.
When he reached the opening into the loft, he paused, squinting into the shadowed room. He glanced at me, giving me the thumbs up before he took the last steps into the loft. I followed.
The smell of moldy hay and stale air assaulted my nose. Dim light shone in through the small, narrow windows. Dust particles floated in the air. I waved in front of me in an attempt to clear a path. I looked down and noticed the foot prints on the floor.
“Show yourself. Do it nice and easy,” I called out.
There was a shuffling sound in the corner. I aimed my gun, not taking any chances.
When they came out from behind the hay bales, their hands were raised and their faces were long. They weren’t the faces I was expecting to see at all.
I lowered my gun, returning it to its holster. Daniel breathed out a sigh.
“What are you two doing up here?” I demanded.
I caught a glimpse of Daniel shaking his head, but I ignored him.
Mervin took a step closer to Verna. He finally found his voice, but he looked at Daniel instead of me. “We don’t get to spend any time together. We just wanted to talk.”
Verna’s face flushed a deeper red and I felt like a complete idiot.
Daniel touched my arm. “Come on,” he urged, nudging me towards the steps.
I was about to go with him when Verna’s light blue eyes met mine. I stopped. “Have you seen Hannah Kuhns’ today?”
Verna glanced at Mervin. He nodded for her to answer. “Yes. She came to see my aunt this morning.”
My brow knitted together. Another piece of the puzzle fell into place.
I turned away from the teenagers, taking the steps down to the first floor in a hurry.
I was afraid that no matter how fast I ran, I would be too late.
25
SERENITY
I knocked on the door again, this time harder. When no one answered, I looked at Daniel.
“We need to get into this house,” I said.
Daniel whirled and jogged to the Jeep. The rain was a steady pattering, instead of a deluge, but the sky flashed intermittently and thunder rolled overhead. Daniel returned a moment later with a hammer.
Bobby and I stepped back as Daniel hooked the claw end of the hammer around the edge of the board that sealed the broken window and pulled. The board popped free. I had my gun out as I stepped through the opening into the kitchen in front of Daniel and Bobby. The scents of maple and bacon were heavy in the air. Dirty skillets were carelessly pushed aside on the countertop. Plates of half eaten food littered the table.
I paused to list
en. The rain hitting the tin roof was loud enough to disguise most random noises and I inwardly cursed the storm’s timing.
“You two take the upstairs. I’ll hit the basement,” I whispered.
“I think we should stay together,” Daniel argued, taking a step closer.
“No time,” I told him. He frowned, but when Bobby left the kitchen, following my orders, he shook his head and followed the coroner into the hallway.
I turned the knob on the door I thought led to the basement, opening it carefully. Stairs disappeared into darkness, proving me right.
With no time to hesitate, I went down the steps, moving sideways and holding my gun up and ready. Blinking, my eyes adjusted to the darkness. I took a breath before I turned the corner when I reached the last step.
Bundles of dried plants hung from the rafters and a table in the center of the room held assorted piles of seeds, leaves and bottles. The room brightened and a crash of thunder followed. I didn’t see anyone.
My heart pounded frantically. Jonas’ statement about Ada Mae not allowing him to marry Marissa repeated in my head. The peppermint makes it taste better. It’s my special ingredient. Robyn drank tea and died in childbirth. Fannie drank the tea and died. But Marissa didn’t die—although she very well might have.
“Why are you here?” Ada Mae’s voice rang out behind me.
I jumped, turning at the same time and pointing my gun at her.
“You know why. You’re the one person who’s connected to everyone who’s died or miscarried,” I accused. “Where’s Hannah?”
Ada Mae stared calmly back at me as if the gun aimed at her didn’t matter.
“The girl came to me looking for aid. Not the other way around,” Ada Mae replied.
“Where is she?” I lowered my voice, taking a step towards the Amish woman.
“It’s too late.” Ada Mae frowned. “The silly girl shouldn’t have flirted with Jonas. He’s weak in the flesh. I couldn’t let her slutty ways affect him. Look at what her sister already did.”
“No, Ada Mae. Fannie was involved with a young English man. Hannah and Eli were a couple. Neither one of those girls slept with Jonas,” I tried to convince her.
Ada Mae’s eyes narrowed. There was a touch of madness in them I hadn’t seen before.
“I don’t believe you,” she snapped.
The urgency to find Hannah was tempered by the keen desire to hear the woman out, to try to understand why she’d done the things she had.
“It’s not too late. You have the ability to help Hannah.” I softened my voice. “You have a gift, Ada Mae, a gift to help people, not hurt them.”
“I do. But my purpose in life has always been to protect my brother—to care for him and his children. That’s my priority.” She smiled. “He was mine way before he was Robyn’s or Marissa’s, Fannie’s or Hannah’s. When we were children, it was me he loved. Me who he kissed.” She glanced down in embarrassment. “Oh, I knew that it was wrong in the eyes of our Lord, but I didn’t care.”
“Jonas cared, didn’t he? He put a stop to it, but you couldn’t stand losing him. Is that why you killed Robyn? You were recently widowed and alone at the time. Did the desire to be with your brother again drive you to do the unthinkable?”
It was then that I noticed the lighter in her hand and got a whiff of the rotten egg gas scent. I stalled my movement. It dawned on me the reason why the woman, who had kept her secrets her entire life, was now freeing herself of them.
“It wasn’t easy. She was the mother of my nieces. Those children should have been mine all along.” Ada Mae frowned.
I swallowed, watching her hand waver in the air. I was judging the distance to her and how fast I could run when another voice spoke up behind me. I sucked in a breath of surprise.
“So it was you who killed my dear sister,” the bishop said. “When did your soul become infected with the poison of the devil? Was it when you killed your mother?”
I didn’t dare look the bishop’s way. I couldn’t take my eyes from Ada Mae. The expression that widened her face was sickly mesmerizing.
“And how would you know of that, Aaron Esch?” Ada Mae said the name with distaste, as if she’d bitten into a piece of bitter fruit.
“Many years ago Wilma Gingerich told me of the tea that your mother drank before she and her child died in the birthing bed. Wilma had no proof that it was the tea that killed them, but she suspected as much. She’d seen enough births to know when something was amiss. That’s why I suspected Jonas’ involvement in Robyn’s death. It wasn’t until Daniel spoke to his mother about the contents of the tea that took Fannie’s life that I made the connection to you.”
He took another step into the basement and my hand shot up. “Stop there, Bishop.”
“Momma wasn’t meant to die. I was young and inexperienced about the combination of certain herbs at the time. She was a frail woman. I thought another delivery at her age would kill her. I mixed the ingredients, hoping to force her menses on her, to bleed the baby out. But the bleeding was too much.”
She paused. “That’s how I learned how to make a potion to kill.”
I took a quick breath. “Why didn’t you kill Marissa then?”
“She should have died. Maybe she didn’t drink enough of the tea. It doesn’t matter. I’ll stand trial before my Lord at his altar.”
“Please don’t,” I whispered, shifting my aim to Ada Mae’s head, but knew that even if I could stop her from striking the lighter, the gunshot blast would ignite the gas.
Ada Mae raised the lighter.
Indecision rushed through me. Stomping on the stairs made Ada Mae glance away.
“You killed her—killed Hannah,” Eli choked out.
He raised a rifle. The bishop scrambled for Eli’s gun, but missed.
The gunshot echoed a split second before the explosion ripped through my senses.
26
DANIEL
I didn’t like parting from Serenity, but time wasn’t in abundance. Breaking into two groups made the most sense. Serenity was also the sheriff. I already knew she could take care of herself, and part of me refused to believe the Peacheys posed any real danger to anyone. Jonas was sitting in the interrogation room back at the station. Surely we weren’t walking into anything more troubling than catching Hannah and Eli in the middle of acting out against the rules of their society.
Bobby didn’t feel the same way. When I glanced at him, his eyes darted back and forth. Thunder rumbled, vibrating the house, and yet the creaking on the floor boards from our feet boomed louder in my ears. Lightning flashed and a louder clap sounded. I took advantage of the noise and hurried up the remaining steps.
I held my breath. Wandering around a home I wasn’t invited into wasn’t something I was used to.
I peeked into the first doorway. Only a neatly made bed and a dresser in the corner were there. Bobby went around me to look into the second doorway. I silently cursed that he’d gone ahead. If there was any kind of threat, I didn’t know what the old coroner was going to do about it.
When Bobby disappeared into the room, I lengthened my stride, following him.
Hannah was lying on the bed. Eli leaned over her, rubbing her forehead.
“Did she drink tea?” Bobby belted out, rushing to the bedside faster than I would have thought possible. He picked up an empty cup from the nightstand and sniffed it.
“She did. Ada Mae gave it to her. Hannah wanted to rid herself of our baby—she done it on purpose,” Eli exclaimed. He stood, taking a step backward. His face was distorted in grief.
Bobby grimaced at the cup and carefully set it back down. He leaned over Hannah.
“Sweetheart, let me look at your eyes,” he coaxed.
Hannah turned to him. As Bobby spread her eyes wider with his fingertips, sweat drops slid down the side of her ashen face.
Bobby shot me a look. “We don’t have much time. She needs emergency care. I’m afraid that if we wait for an ambulance, it wil
l be too late.”
“I didn’t want to kill the baby—but I didn’t know—didn’t know if it was Eli’s or Arlo’s.” Hannah grabbed Bobby’s wrist with a sudden show of strength. “Arlo forced himself on me. He was showing attention to Fannie, then one day, he began hounding me. I told him no. But he wouldn’t listen…” Her words trailed off into wet tears and sniffing.
Eli dropped onto the bed, grasping her face in his hands. “I would have helped you through it, Hannah. You should have trusted me. It’s not your fault what Arlo did to you, and it’s not the baby’s fault, either.”
The maturity in Eli’s voice startled me. The kid had come a long way since he’d lost Naomi’s love to Serenity’s nephew. Looking down on the tortured scene, I couldn’t help wondering about his bad luck with women.
“All right. Bobby, call the hospital and tell them we’re on our way with the patient. Fill them in on whatever they need to know.” I met Eli’s fearful eyes. “Let me help her, Eli.”
He rubbed his hands through his hair with a tug and groaned, but moved aside.
I slipped my hand under Hannah’s back and legs, lifting her from the bed. The solidness of her weight and the limpness of her body lengthened my stride. I heard Bobby behind me, talking on the phone. I remained hopeful that we’d make it to the hospital in time to save the girl, but seeing the blood spreading on Hannah’s dress made me fear that the baby was already lost.
“Serenity, come on! I found them!” I shouted, fearing she was already searching the barn.
Eli jumped in front of me and opened the door. I barely paused on the porch before taking the steps two at a time. I darted into the rain as the sky lightened around us. The boom of thunder was directly overhead.
Clip clops echoed above the storm and I raised my head into the rain to see a buggy being pulled at a pounding trot up the driveway. The horse threw its head with the thunder, its eyes wide with terror. The buggy pulled alongside us as I placed Hannah in the backseat of the Jeep. She slumped over, unconscious.
Eli grabbed the horse’s reins, struggling to control it. Aaron Esch was the first out of the buggy. Father and Ma jumped out after him. I paused, startled by their appearance.