“No, they don’t. And those types of feelings arise from deeds done to each other or believed to have been done.”
“And how do you think Rowan’s own house fire plays into the intrigue?”
I sighed deeply and glanced at Daniel. He had been staring at me for an unreasonable amount of time, and it was beginning to get on my nerves.
“Honestly, that’s the only wild card in the theory I’m beginning to develop. There’s something I’m missing.”
“It’s damn strange, is what it is. Don’t get me wrong. I’ve personally heard of several Amish houses going up in gas explosions over the years.”
“So what makes this one strange to you then?”
“Well, for starters, that it happened at night, and Rowan wasn’t there—too convenient if you ask me. Then there’s the fact that Jotham Hochstetler was there.” He paused and eyed me with a very serious look, before continuing. “It’s not normal for a married Amish woman to have another man in her house in the middle of the night. I hate to say it, but it looks as if Hedy Schwartz was having an affair.”
I thought for a moment. If the woman hadn’t been Amish, I would have agreed with Daniel wholeheartedly, but she was Amish and I was still having a difficult time wrapping my mind around the idea that an Amish woman who was married to a good looking and intelligent man, like Rowan, would cheat. Unless, maybe Rowan wasn’t as he appeared.
“It seems to be the thing these days,” was all I said on the matter as I turned into the gravel driveway of the farm. “This is where the first fire took place. Shem Yoder’s hay barn went up on October fifteenth of last year.”
Daniel slowly nodded and then turned to look out the window at the newly constructed barn on the right. I followed his gaze as I shut the engine off. Most of the roof was under cover, but at the far side of the framed in building, there were several exposed joists and a deep snow drift rose below them.
There were a few men hammering boards up and a young girl was in the shadow of the structure pulling two smaller children through the snow on a sled. The sun was hidden by thickening clouds that were spreading out across the sky, making it feel as if the possibility of snow flurries was very real.
A black Labrador greeted me as I shut the car door. Absently, I reached down to scratch his head before I joined Daniel and headed towards the barn. A short man with a long, brown beard that was heavily speckled with gray stopped working and came forward to greet us.
“Ah, you must be the lady sheriff from Blood Rock,” he said in a friendly manner. “I’ve been expecting your visit. I’m Shem Yoder.”
After we had all shaken hands and I introduced Daniel, I asked, “Is the new barn on the same site as the one that burned down?”
“Yes, Ma’am, it sure is. I was in the middle of harvesting the corn when it happened, and I didn’t get around to excavating the area until well into November.” Shem pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his brow before finishing, “With the weather the way it’s been, I really regret that I didn’t get the new barn built sooner.”
“I thought that the entire community would get together to have a barn raising sort of thing,” I ventured.
Shem laughed. “Well now, you do know something about our ways. I’ve had a lot of help here with mine and about a month ago, we all got together to put up Elijah Mast’s buggy shed and Samuel Miller’s stable, but the snow has put my construction off schedule.”
I pulled out my small notebook and checked the names I had written down at the library. “The Miller’s buggy shed was the second fire, right…back on October twenty-ninth?”
Shem scrunched his round face up in thought for a minute and then answered, “Why yes, I believe that was the date. My sister-in-law had her baby that day, and the wife and I were heading up the road to see the newest family member when we saw Elijah’s barn on fire in the distance.”
“It happened during the day?” The wind was gusting again and I took a step closer to Daniel to use his large frame as a wind block. I caught his grin from the corner of my vision, but I let my annoyance slip away as I paid closer attention to Shem.
Shem nodded his head. “I reckon it was about dinnertime when we passed by Elijah’s driveway and first smelled the smoke. We continued on, rushing to the phone box and called the fire department, but by the time they arrived, the barn was gone.”
“Was that barn as far off the road as yours is?”
“Yes, maybe a little further. Samuel’s stable is about a quarter mile back and it was set alight too.”
Daniel and I exchanged glances. “Samuel Miller’s stable went up on November eleventh. Was that during the day also?”
“I wasn’t personally there when it burned, but I arrived in the early evening to help clean up. So I reckon it was in the middle of the afternoon.”
I took notes and tried to control my building anxiousness. With control, I asked, “Were there any horses in the stable at the time?”
Shem shook his head, “The Lord blessed Samuel that day. He had turned all the horses out in the field to muck the stalls that morning. Usually, they would have been in.”
I thought for a moment and said, “So, out of all three fires, no animals were killed.”
“No. Of course, that wasn’t the case with Abner’s barn.” Shem’s face was already red from the stiff, cold breeze, but I could have sworn that it turned a shade even darker when he shrugged and said, “But I’m sure you already know about that.”
I nodded. “Yeah, I know all about it.” Closing the notebook, I went out on a limb and asked, “Do you have any idea who would want to burn Amish barns, Shem—any ideas at all?”
Shem fidgeted and wiped his face once again. The poor guy was a nervous wreck, but what—or who was he afraid of?
Finally, he shook his head firmly. “That’s why you’re here, Ma’am, to figure out what’s happening.”
Irritation shot though me, warming my face. “Usually in cases like these, the victim has an idea of who might be the perpetrator. That kind of information helps law enforcement solve the case.” I took a deep breath and asked once again, “Are you sure you don’t have any information that will help me to help you?”
“Sorry, Ma’am,” Shem said. He tipped his hat and returned to the other three men who had paused from their work to listen in on the discussion.
I caught a glimpse of Daniel’s amused smile as I got into the car, but was thankful that he didn’t say anything obnoxious.
“I guess there’s no point stopping by the other crime scenes if they’ve already been cleared and have new barns erected,” I sighed.
“Afraid not,” Daniel had lost the smile when he turned to me. “You’re not surprised that Shem Yoder didn’t have your answers, are you?”
I shrugged as I pulled out onto the roadway. “He wouldn’t be an Amish man if he wasn’t being difficult. But I did get some of my questions answered…and I’m fairly certain now that Shem’s and the other two barn fires were not set by the same person who burned down the bishop’s barn.”
“How did you come to that conclusion?”
I purposely eased my foot off the gas pedal to make the short trip to the Fisher’s last even longer.
“They just don’t match up. The first three fires were all set during the day, to barns or buildings that were set well off the road. There were no animals or people in any of the buildings. Whoever committed those arsons did it in rebellion or animosity, not with serious malicious intent.” I paused and thought for a moment and then continued. “The bishop’s fire happened in the middle of the night and to a barn that was a stone’s throw from the road. And of course there was a body.”
“Do you really think that we’re dealing with two arsonists? That’s crazy,” Daniel scoffed.
“Maybe so, but that’s sure what it looks like to me. Think about it for a minute. Who
ever set the fire at the bishop’s was very careful to pick a barn that he could get in and out of easily and did it in the middle of the night so that he would have the best chance of not getting caught. The person who set the other fires was much more emotional about it. He wanted to create a spectacle or maybe even make a point.”
“He?” Daniel questioned.
“I read up on it. Most arsonists are male.”
“It’s starting to make sense, but why would a random person set fire to the bishop’s barn?”
I smiled for an instant at Daniel’s naivety and then quickly sobered, saying, “To hide the body, of course.”
15
We passed Mariah on the bishop’s driveway and a shiver of anticipation ran up my spine. The sour look that darkened the girl’s face when she saw me confirmed that there was definitely something going on with her.
I parked on the other side of the club cab pick-up and glanced over at Mariah, watching her ignore our arrival, as she leaned into the truck and chatted with a young English man. Her brazen behavior confused me. An Amish girl who was also the daughter of the bishop wasn’t supposed to be so openly conversing with a guy, especially not an outsider.
I raised a questioning brow to Daniel who only shrugged. He looked about as surprised as I was.
“You heard Rowan last night. This community is a little more laid back than Blood Rock,” Daniel offered.
I snorted. “My guess is that this girl gets away with a lot more than any of the other kids do.”
“Why, because she’s the bishop’s daughter?” Daniel asked.
“That, along with the fact that she’s an only child, and a beautiful girl to boot.”
“I bet you always got what you wanted growing up, too,” Daniel said with a mild smirk.
“This isn’t about me…but no, I didn’t,” I said forcefully.
It was a good time to get out of the car, before I really got mad at Daniel. When I walked over to greet Mariah, I didn’t miss the stiffening of her posture or her exhale of breath.
Mariah offered me a plastic smile and said, “My mother is in the house waiting for you.”
I couldn’t help bristling at the girl’s rude tone. “Well, hello to you too.”
Mariah rolled her eyes ever so slightly and she completely lost the fake smile. She began to open her mouth to speak, but her companion interrupted her. “You must be the Blood Rock sheriff everyone’s talking about.” He reached out of the cab and I shook his hand. “I’m Damon Gentry.”
I had already taken in the guy’s fair hair, bright blue eyes and all-American good looks. He was in his mid-twenties making me automatically assume that he was a little too old for Mariah, but not by everybody’s standards.
“Are you any relation to Sheriff Brody Gentry?” I asked.
Damon smiled with embarrassment and shrugged a little. “He’s my grandpa.”
I exchanged glances with Daniel and saw the spark of curiosity in his brown eyes. I thought quickly and nodded towards Daniel and said, “This is Daniel Bachman. He grew up Amish, but left when he was nineteen. He’s helping with the case.”
As I spoke, I watched Mariah’s face intently and was relieved when my suspicions were confirmed by her sudden change of posture. She relaxed and gazed up at Daniel with great interest. The girl definitely wanted out.
In a hushed voice, she asked Daniel excitedly, “You used to be Amish?”
“Yes, I did.”
“Do you miss it?” Mariah rushed out.
Daniel paused with a long breath and then said, “Sure, sometimes I do. But to be honest, I’ve moved on and am happy.”
The way Mariah was gazing at Daniel with a look of total admiration and envy was almost jolting.
“You’re so lucky,” Mariah whispered.
Daniel leaned a little away from Mariah and said in a low voice, “Whoa, you don’t mean that.”
Mariah’s lips thinned into a grim line and her blue eyes darkened. She thought for a moment and then suddenly giggled. “Of course not, I was just joking.”
Like hell she was joking. But the girl’s face was a mask of emotions once again.
I turned to Damon and said, “Was Ashton Gentry your brother?”
My question caused a heavier chill to ascend than the winter wind already carried. Mariah’s single eyebrow raised, and Damon’s white face made me regret asking the obvious question. But I had just wanted to be sure before I drew any conclusions. The pair’s relationship was still unknown to me and even though I was pretty good at picking up on other people’s attraction to one another, these two were coming up blank in that department for me.
“Yes…why do you ask?” Damon said slowly.
I didn’t answer him, instead, asking a question of my own. “You must have been about five or six when the fire happened that took his life.”
“I was seven, and I still distinctly remember the barn in flames and the line of fire trucks parked bumper to bumper in the driveway.” Damon’s face flushed with color as he spoke. The young man obviously carried the same bitterness that his grandfather did.
I decided to take a chance. “Do you have any idea who set the fire, Damon?”
Damon laughed. The sound was so abrupt and unexpected that I glanced up at Daniel to for his reaction. But he only stared at Damon with quiet intensity.
“Believe me, if I knew who did it, they’d be dead by now,” Damon said with steely sureness.
“He doesn’t mean it. He’s just angry, is all, Sheriff,” Mariah stressed my title for Damon’s benefit.
“Sure, I do,” Damon growled with benevolence.
“Damon, you had best be heading over to the Lapp’s place. Margaret wanted you to take her and the boys to the store this afternoon.” Joanna’s voice startled me, but I noticed her reproving tone.
“Yes, Ma’am,” Damon said sweetly before turning to me and saying, “Later, Sheriff.”
I nodded and stepped back. Damn. I was on to something here.
“Mariah, that cow still needs milking,” Joanna told her daughter firmly.
“Sorry, Damon was telling me all about how he saw Hope and Sarah out by the road talking to those English boys again.”
Joanna eyed her daughter silently for a moment, before she said in the cool and collected voice of a very pissed off mother. “You know that I don’t like you gossiping with that young man.”
“But...I thought that you’d want…” Mariah stuttered.
Joanna placed her hand out to silence her daughter. “I will not have it. Do you understand me?”
Mariah took a breath and looked away. “Yes, Momma.”
“Get on with your chores,” Joanna ordered.
Mariah hurried away without a backward glance.
In a blink of an eye, Joanna was honey sweet once again. “Come on in. It’s mighty cold out here.”
Daniel and I mirrored each other’s quizzical expressions as we followed Joanna into the warmth of her kitchen just as the first, puffy snowflakes began falling.
“Do either of you want a cup of tea or coffee?” Joanna asked.
“Coffee would be wonderful,” Daniel replied.
“I’m good,” I added, sweeping my gaze around the kitchen.
I joined Daniel at the table and sat beside him. There was an open Bible in front of me and I couldn’t help craning my neck to take a closer look. The page said, Psalm 7, Prayer and Praise for Deliverance from Enemies.
My curiosity was suddenly heightened. Just as my finger touched the leather bound book to inch it closer, Joanna said, “Are you a believer, Serenity?”
The Amish woman set a cup of coffee in front of Daniel and took the seat across from us. The laser sharp focus that I had seen on her face the day before abruptly returned.
“Ah, well, kind of,” I stumbled, “I mean I believ
e in God, just not necessarily all the stories that come along with the Bible.”
“Stories?” Joanna smiled kindly, making me feel as if I was a small, naughty child who needed a stern lecture. I glimpsed Daniel wiping a smile away with his hand. Now he seemed to be waiting anxiously for the conversation to continue.
“Why, the Bible is truth, not stories. It’s the Word of our Lord Jesus and His Heavenly Father.” Joanna lightly shook her head as she continued, “I am always pained to meet an unbeliever—because I know in my heart what you’re missing.”
Her consolatory tone made my skin crawl and my blood pressure rise. I was respectful and held in the snort that threatened to escape my lips, and said, “I’ve always found the Bible fascinating, though.” Losing all inhibitions, I picked up the book and began reading, “like this for example. If I have repaid evil to him who was at peace with me, Or have plundered my enemy without cause, Let the enemy pursue me and overtake me; Yes, let him trample my life to the earth, And lay my honor in the dust. What exactly does it mean?”
Joanna’s face darkened for an instant. It was as if a storm cloud had suddenly closed in around her. But she quickly regained her composure and said, “God forgives those who sin. Sometimes it takes a while for judgment to be rendered, but no one escapes evil deeds without retribution of some kind.”
I couldn’t help glaring at the woman. It was the same religious zeal that I had dealt with in Blood Rock, all over again. Bishop Esch and his followers justified having Tony Manning, the town’s former sheriff, punch me and hold a gun to my head when they thought it served some ordained purpose.
Daniel cleared his throat and saved me from getting into a philosophical battle with Joanna by quickly changing the subject.
“Is Damon Gentry a driver for the Amish around here?”
Joanna turned her attention on Daniel. “He’s been driving in the community for a few years. He’s a nice young man. I really wouldn’t take his vengeful words from earlier seriously.”
“Threatening to kill someone in front of a sheriff is serious business,” I countered.
“Of course it is,” Joanna agreed wholeheartedly, “but since he isn’t targeting a specific person, they are just frivolous words.”