by Alison Stone
Eli bowed his head. It had been a long time since he had said a prayer. Not so much because of disbelief, but because of apathy, distraction and his job. He scrubbed a hand across his face. Wasn’t that part of the reason why his parents—and the entire Amish community—set themselves apart? So they wouldn’t be distracted by the outside world and instead could focus on God? Under the night sky, the fields seemed to stretch forever. The 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, her thoughts cleared. She crested the hill and sidestepped some horse manure in the road. A horse and open wagon approached. The combination of the brim of his hat and the dim early-morning light shadowed the driver’s features. He waved as he passed. Befuddled, she ignored his greeting and kept running, feeling rude.
The first hint of sun became visible over the treetops. Sweat trickled down her temples. Lost in thought, she realized she had gone much farther than she anticipated. Slowing her pace, she looked up and down the long country road. She crossed to the other side to face the nonexistent
traffic as she made her way back.
City habits die hard.
When she reached the road in front of the Miller’s home, she leaned over and braced her hands on her thighs, trying to catch her breath. She found herself staring at the cornstalks. She glanced toward the quiet farmhouse, not detecting any activity. But surely they were all up by now. Sucking in a quick breath, she stepped off the road into the soft soil. She held out her arm to push aside the cornstalks. Their sweet smell tickled her nose, and she pinched her nose to stop the threatening sneeze.
Pushing her way through the stalks, she realized she should have followed the beaten path made by the rescue workers. When she reached the clearing, she froze. A small crater of dark soil marked the spot where her brother had met his fate. Tiny white dots danced in front of her eyes. Covering her mouth, she backed away as her stomach heaved. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a dark shadow flicker between stalks. Training her gaze on the form, she sensed her fight-or-flight response kick in.
She spun around and plowed through the stalks. Each of her frantic steps was met with a rustling off to her right. Her heartbeat ratcheted up in her chest. Stalks whacked her face. Please help me, Lord. Sensing she was losing ground, she spun back around to face her potential attacker, but she twisted her ankle on the uneven earth and bit back a yelp. Two strong hands gripped her upper arms. A blood-curdling scream died on her lips when she glanced up to find Eli’s concerned gaze on her.
“Thank goodness you’re here.” Her breath came out in ragged gasps.
“I came outside to look for you when you didn’t answer my knock on your bedroom door. What’s wrong?”
“Were you walking through the cornstalks?”
“No, I just saw you when you lost your footing.” He narrowed his gaze. “What’s going on?”
“Someone...” Anna swallowed hard. “Someone was in there.”
“Are you okay?”
Unable to find the words, she nodded. He pointed to the house. “Go wait up there while I check it out.”
Anna nodded and jogged toward the house. Her ankle seemed fine under her weight. She reached the top step and her rubbery legs went out from under her. Dropping down on to the top step, she wrapped her arms around her middle and leaned forward, her eyes locked on the cornfield.
After what seemed like forever, Eli appeared and strode toward her. Her heart rate had returned to normal. “I didn’t see anything.” He narrowed his gaze. “What exactly did you see?”
“I...” Her shoulders dropped. “I don’t know. Maybe I was imagining things.” She pushed a hand through her hair. Maybe I’m as paranoid as my brother.”
Eli planted one foot on the bottom step of the porch and leaned his elbow on the railing. “You’ve had a lot to take in.” He offered her his hand and she pushed off the step to stand next to him.
“My nerves are shot.” Her laugh came out high-pitched and grating.
“Why did you go into the field?”
“I thought it would help me move past this nightmare if I saw the spot where his plane went down.” She had always regretted not returning to her childhood home after her mother’s murder. “I guess it was stupid.”
“No, it’s just that your brother was worried about you.” He glanced back toward the fields. “Until I figure out why, I want to keep an eye on you.”
Anna climbed a step to gain some distance. She didn’t know whether she should be flattered or annoyed. “I can take care of myself. I’ve been doing it for most of my life.”
Eli pinned her with his gaze. “Humor me, would you?” When she didn’t answer, he added, “Come on. Let’s go inside. My mother is making breakfast.”
“Mind if I clean up first?” He held open the screen door for her. She ran up the stairs, aware of Eli watching her. Now he was worried she was in danger. Had someone been following her in the fields? Shards of ice shot through her veins.
* * *
Despite the unseasonably warm October weather, Anna threw on a thin cardigan and capris, compelled to cover her exposed flesh. Anything less and she would have felt severely underdressed—disrespectful even—in this Amish house. Besides, she couldn’t shake the chill from her encounter in the cornstalks.
When she finally wandered downstairs to the kitchen, she was quickly ushered to the breakfast table. Mother and daughter in their long gowns, hair neatly pinned underneath their bonnets, moved in a practiced rhythm.
“We trust you had a good sleep, Miss Quinn,” Mariam said, never once slowing from the hustle and bustle of preparing breakfast.
“Yes, thank you.” The lie flew from her lips. It was easy because Eli’s mother never met her eyes. Anna rolled her shoulders, trying to ease the kinks in her back. A bead of sweat rolled down her back in the close quarters of the kitchen. The cooking stove gave off immense heat.
“Are you okay?” Mariam’s soft voice snapped her out of her reverie. “Please have a seat.”
Unable to find her voice, Anna nodded and pulled out the closest chair.
“No, please, sit in this one.” The older woman pointed to another chair. Mariam smoothed her hand across the top of the empty chair and slid it back into place.
Anna sat and leaned into the slats of the wooden high-back chair. A fragrant aroma wafted from the stove. Her stomach growled. Until then, she hadn’t realized she was hungry. A moment later, Eli strolled into the kitchen dressed in blue jeans and a dark-blue golf shirt.
“Feel better?” The intensity in Eli’s gaze unnerved her and she nodded. He pulled out a chair across from hers and sat down. The silence stretched between them.
Nervous energy finally got the best of Anna. “I thought I’d drive by my brother’s apartment today. Clean out his things.”
“I’ll go with you.”
“That’s not necessary.” She blurted out the words on reflex, despite knowing he’d insist. “I don’t want you to go to any more trouble than you already have.”
“I’d like to see if I can find anything at your brother’s apartment that might answer why he was worried.” Eli seemed to be selecting his words carefully. His mother placed a bowl of scrambled eggs on the table and smiled but didn’t say anything. “I have two weeks of vacation. I arranged it yesterday afternoon with my supervisor.”
Anna took a small spoonful of scrambled eggs, then pushed them around her plate with her fork. “For your cold case investigation?” Out of the corner of her eye, Anna noticed Mariam watching her son with keen interest. “Why did you have to take vacation for a case? Isn’t it part of your job?”
“It’s kind of a personal project.” Eli’s lips flattened into a thin line. Anna flicked a gaze toward his mother standing by the stove.
“Do you think my brother’s worries had anything to do with your investigation? It’s not likely, right? He didn’t know anything.” Dread washed over her as they locked gazes, an unreadable emotion in his eyes. Shaking his head, he cut a sideways glance toward his mother. She took a bite of scrambled eggs despite the knot in her stomach.
A teenage boy dressed in a blue shirt, pants with suspenders and a straw hat burst in through the back door. Despite a scolding from his mother, he raced from one window to the next.
“Hey, Samuel, what’s going on out there?” The legs of Eli’s chair scraped across the hardwood floor as he stood up.
The teenager leaned on the window’s ledge and peered out. “There’s a big truck with a long pole on it. One of the English is carrying something big on his shoulder and they’re coming this way. Dat told me to get in the house. To tell Mem and Katie Mae to stay put.”
Eli strode toward the front door and yanked it open. When Anna reached his side, she was struck by the hard expression on his features. Eli was a formidable man. A cold chill ran down her spine despite the warm breeze.
A camera c
rew stood a few feet from the porch steps. A well-coiffed woman with a blond bob and a microphone in hand took a step forward, doing a quick check of her shoes as if she had stepped in something. “Can we speak to someone regarding the plane crash?”
Eli glared at her until she lowered the microphone and gestured to her cameraman to turn off the camera. She pointed the mic at Eli. “Do you live here?” She rearranged her lips into a phony smile. “Help us out here. I need some footage for the evening news.”
Eli jerked his chin toward the street. “Take footage from the road. This is private property.”
“We’d like to interview someone. We’re working several angles.” The woman persisted. “At first we thought it was a cruel twist that a plane crashed in the middle of an Amish field. Two different worlds colliding.” Her lips quirked. “And, I think a lot of people would be surprised to learn of the thriving Amish community in western New York.”
“They can read about it in the guidebooks.” Eli started to close the door. The woman raised her voice. “We learned Tiffany Christopher was critically injured in the crash. I’m sure you’re aware they’re a prominent family in this area.”
Anna froze and held her breath. She had the sensation of standing on the ocean’s edge about to be clobbered by a giant wave. The reporter’s focus turned toward her. “I was told the pilot’s sister was in town.”
Eli held his hand in front of Anna protectively.
“Do you know—” the reporter consulted her notepad “—where we could find Daniel Quinn’s family? His sister?”
Seemingly in an effort to intimidate, Eli moved toward the reporter. “I asked you to leave.”
The reporter tilted her head. “I thought maybe we could get a comment from the sister. To clear his name.”
Tiny white dots floated in Anna’s line of vision. “What are you talking about?”
“Mr. and Mrs. Christopher have alleged the man piloting the plane was unstable. That he had suffered from post-traumatic stress disorder and was drunk when he took the plane up with Tiffany on board.” The pounding of her heartbeat in her ears nearly drowned out the reporter’s allegations. “I understand there was a history of violence in his family.”