Fall from Pride

by Karen Harper

  On the other hand, what beef could Mike Getz possibly have against the Eshes or the Amish in general? Hopefully, he wasn’t one of those Amish bashers who resented that her people were different. He might be a bit of what they called a redneck. But maybe an arsonist who started and fought fires for the thrill of it didn’t need to hold any grudges against those he harmed.

  Sarah saw the grill was an old, yellow-glazed brick structure, not a pit and not a metal one like many of the moderns and Amish used, the kind the Plain People would haul to the schoolhouse for the charity barbecue and auction. But she didn’t see any fire starters here. Of course, he could have taken them inside with all the rain.

  “Lookin’ for something?” came a loud male voice behind her.

  Startled, she spun to face Mike Getz.

  “Sarah said I should bring you out some moon pies and that you wanted to ask me something,” Gabe told Nate.

  “You want to sit down in the front seat of VERA to talk?” Nate asked.

  “Oh, yeah, sure.”

  “Want one of these moon pies?”

  “Mamm said not to eat till dinner, but there’s six of them in there.”

  Nate let Gabe sit in the driver’s seat again while he got in the passenger’s side. From his belt, he unhooked the two-way radio he kept with him in case Sarah called for some reason. He was wishing she would, not that she’d be in danger in broad daylight on her own family’s farm, but just to talk. He put it on the dashboard, then opened the sack and let Gabe take a pastry before he did.

  “That’s not a tape recorder,” he assured the boy. “It a two-way radio, in case your sister calls me.”

  “Ya, okay. I knew that.”

  They talked with their mouths half-full, just two guys, hanging out. Nate was pleased with the relaxed feeling, not only so Gabe would open up to him but because he really liked the kid. Actually, he hadn’t met a Home Valley Amish person he didn’t like, but then he hadn’t seen Jacob Yoder yet.

  Gabe kept his free hand on the steering wheel. Nate had never interrogated a witness here before, especially not one in the driver’s seat.

  “Sarah mentioned that you were really good at math—at numbers,” Nate said. “You happen to remember the license plate number of Jacob Yoder’s red car?”

  Gabe nodded. “RGE 1297.”

  Nate took his notebook from his pocket and scribbled it down.

  “You gonna drive VERA around to look for him?” Gabe asked.

  “You got any ideas where I could look if I took you along?”

  “Only what I heard.”

  “Which is?”

  “It’s not nearby. Just that he has a couple of English friends. Up I-77, halfway to Cleveland. I haven’t been there, but I heard the general area.” He told Nate the route to cut off from the highway, even the intersection where Jacob might have a friend.

  “You’re a big help, Gabe. Also, I was hoping there was something else—anything would help—that you might recall from the night of the first fire when you were near the Esh barn. I could keep all of it or some of it privileged information,” he said, pointedly putting his notebook away. “But I’d really appreciate your help.”

  “Like you said before—confidential?”

  “Absolutely.”

  Gabe sighed and wiped the hand he’d been eating with on his pants before he touched the steering wheel with it. He gripped it so hard his fingers went white at the knuckles.

  “Well,” he said, “Barbara Lantz and I were in the Esh barn that night, in the loft, but we didn’t do anything wrong—not about the fire, I mean.”

  “I believe that. So can you help me out? Anything you saw or heard could give me a key clue.”

  The boy’s cheeks had gone bright red again. “At first we weren’t really paying attention—about what was going on outside.”

  Nate bit his lower lip and waited. He knew more was coming. It struck him that this boy was trying to express how he himself had felt when he was with Sarah in the Miller barn.

  “But then I heard a car and thought it was funny—strange—so I looked out. And I saw someone get out, check the house first, then walk toward the barn. We heard the barn door open down below us and thought we were gonna get caught.”

  “It was Jacob Yoder.”

  “No. At first I couldn’t tell who it was, in dark clothes and all. I peeked out through a crack in the haymow door. She was just standing, looking up at the barn, staring up at where—I guess—Sarah’s painting must have been. Then she came inside.”

  “She. A woman? Gabe, I need to know who you saw. I won’t let on who told me.”

  Gabe heaved another sigh that shook his shoulders. “When we saw who it was and that she’d know us, we got ourselves down the back ladder to the first floor and out that side door schnell—real quick. We ran across the field toward our barn and went in one at a time, so I don’t know what happened after that, but I—I been wondering.”

  “Was it your sister’s friend, Hannah Esh?”

  He shook his head. “Mrs. Logan. You know, who runs the restaurant in town.”

  Mike must have just pulled up in front, Sarah thought as her insides lurched. She’d overstepped. She’d risked too much. She was so used to everything being safe around here. And she was so unused to having a phone in the buggy that she’d grabbed the pastry sack but had come back here without what she really needed. Not that she could have phoned Nate for help right in front of Mike Getz, anyway. She’d have to talk her way out of this without a call to Nate.

  “I just wanted to see the place you were working about the time you spotted the barn fire,” she said, forcing a small smile. “Cindee told me.” She was amazed her voice sounded so calm, when he really scared her. He looked big and bulky with his bull neck and his fists clenched at his sides. “I told Mr. Clawson I don’t want my picture in the paper for spotting the first fire, but I thought—if you had a good place for a photo somewhere around here—I’d tell him to just use yours for spotting the second one instead.”

  She knew she was saying too much, but she couldn’t help herself. He had her blocked in by the garage, the big brick grill and a board fence. Yet if someone glanced back at the right angle from the road, they could be seen, so he wouldn’t dare to hurt her, would he? And wasn’t Cindee home?

  “You know how my people are about photos and interviews,” she rushed on, “but you gave those Cleveland TV reporters such good ones, I was hoping you wouldn’t mind more. Only—I didn’t want to just ask Mr. Clawson before I looked around to see if there was a spot for it.”

  “I think it’d be better over by the ruins of the barn,” he said. He still frowned, but he shrugged his big, rounded shoulders and finally unclenched his fists. “Yeah, okay by me if Mr. Clawson says so.”

  “The other thing is,” she said, extending her sack of half-moon pies toward him, “I told Cindee when I bought paint for another quilt square that I’d bring you both some of these, so she was expecting me.”

  “Yeah, well, she had car trouble so we switched for the day. She’s at the hardware store.”

  “Then please give her these, and I’ll be going to drop things off to the Schrocks. They’re expecting me.”

  He took the sack. “The fire marshal know about this picture idea?” he asked, still blocking her way out.

  “He does know you’re a double hero now, so he will probably be glad to also be interviewed for the story, if that’s what you mean. I guess you know, Mr. MacKenzie was really impressed with you,” she added, and dared to step closer to him, hoping he’d move back and let her pass. She figured showing indecision or fear was not the way to deal with this man, especially since she now had another piece of proof he could be the arsonist, at least on the second fire.

  Sarah could almost hear the wheels of his thoughts grinding away in that big, bald head. Did he have enough in his bean to be able to write that note with the Bible quote? Surely, he and Cindee would not be working together, even though she had ea
sy access to the artificial fireplace logs at the hardware store. But if Mike Getz was not guilty, why didn’t he just let her leave?

  He shuffled aside and she edged by, fighting to keep from fleeing. She didn’t relish having to tell Nate that she’d taken too much of a chance here. In case Mike checked up on her, she’d now have to tell Peter Clawson, whom she tried to avoid, that he should get a picture of Mike. But, as he’d said, it should be near the ruins, because he couldn’t have spotted the fire from this backyard.

  “Let me make sure I’ve got this right,” Nate said to Gabe. “Ray-Lynn Logan went to the Esh house and found no one home. Then she came over to the barn, looked up at Sarah’s painted quilt square and then came into the barn. You two took off so you didn’t see what happened after. You’re sure?” he demanded, realizing too late that his buddy-buddy tone had evaporated. “You didn’t tell Sarah any of that, did you?”

  “I didn’t tell anyone and told Barbara not to, ’cause we were up there together when the barn dance was at my place.”

  “Sure. Sure, I understand that.”

  “Sarah will tell you I didn’t say a thing. You can ask her if you want, but she went to take some food Mamm made with some of those—” he pointed to the sack on the console between them “—to the Schrocks. I heard her tell Mamm she took some for Cindee Kramer, too.”

  “To the hardware store?” Nate asked, but he knew better. Cindee lived with Mike Getz, so he could only hope Mike wouldn’t be home on a Friday morning. Sarah obviously meant to drop them off en route to the Schrocks. And he didn’t like that idea at all.

  “Gabe, we’ve got to switch seats. I’ve got to go somewhere.”

  “If you arrest Mrs. Logan, don’t tell where you heard that, okay? She’s a friend of Sarah’s and pays Mamm and Lizzie good wages.”

  “I’m not going to arrest Mrs. Logan. Move!”

  As they changed places—Gabe would be sad to see that Nate was going to put him out at his house—Nate swore under his breath and, from the front seat, reluctantly lowered the antenna that would allow him to make or receive calls on the two-way. He might be overreacting, but letting Sarah in on so much—using her, really—had endangered her. Why hadn’t she told him she didn’t intend to stay on her family’s property after what they went through yesterday? With that threatening note pinned outside the place where she slept, didn’t she realize the rules in cozy Amish country had all changed? As clever as she was, his Amish sidekick had clearly not gotten it through her pretty head to be careful.

  Sarah was nearly to the Schrock house when she heard a loud motor kind of clearing its throat behind her. VERA? Nate had said he would be coming out here after the debris cooled down with a search warrant to sift through the ruins.

  She glanced in her rearview mirror. Her insides cartwheeled and not because it was Nate. She saw Jacob’s bright red car following her pretty close. He was probably expecting she’d pull over when she saw him, but she had no intention of doing that. If Jacob was following her now, had he been following her earlier? Nate had mentioned they might set a trap, but she hadn’t wanted to set one this way. She’d call Nate on this two-way radio right now and tell him exactly where Jacob Yoder was, assuming that was him behind the wheel. The sun still fairly low in the eastern sky glared off the car’s front windshield and in her eyes.

  Sarah figured she had about three minutes before she could turn into the Schrocks’ driveway. Surely, they’d be home. She grabbed the two-way, and hit the quick-dial number Nate had set up for her. Could she keep Jacob here long enough for Nate to get here?

  But unlike when they’d practiced, the radio didn’t make a sound when she turned it on. Even when she put the number in again, nothing appeared on the tiny screen but the word Searching. Maybe Jacob had been searching for her, stalking her. But that note on the Miller barn had been addressed to Nate. This was even more of a nightmare if the arsonist was someone Amish—even former Amish.

  The red car’s horn sounded twice. She giddyaped Sally faster, while she struggled to punch in the number yet again. Jacob’s car bumped the back of the buggy. Once, twice, then hard enough to shove it into Sally and send both horse and buggy crashing into the water-filled ditch.

  13

  AS THE BUGGY SLAMMED INTO THE WATER, Sarah went flying, her hands still on the reins. She went under with a huge splash and came up sputtering and angry. Sally thrashed the surface into waves, trying to get up but was trapped in the traces. Before Sarah could scramble to her feet, Jacob leaped in, too. He grabbed her arm so hard it hurt.

  “This is your fault!” he shouted, thigh-deep in the roiling water. “All you had to do was stop.”

  “Let me go! You could have killed me and Sally!”

  She glanced back into the half-submerged buggy for Nate’s phone, but it was gone. Yanking free of Jacob’s grasp, she sloshed toward her struggling horse. Thank the Lord, the mare hadn’t broken a leg. Though the road wasn’t busy, surely someone would come along soon. Then she remembered that Nate needed Jacob’s license plate number, so she glanced up and tried to remember it in case Gabe wasn’t sure. Jacob moved behind her toward Sally. He helped Sarah free the horse from the buggy so she could stand. Sally floundered to her feet, making even more waves. “It wasn’t my fault. It was an accident!” Jacob shouted. “Ya, one you caused! You caused anything else you shouldn’t have?”

  “Something else I caused? What’s that supposed to mean?” Jacob demanded, this time gripping her wrist so tightly her hand went numb. He shook her hard. “You don’t think I had anything to do with the fires? I saw you with him! He’s been turning you against me!”

  “You’ve been following me, haven’t you, maybe sneaking around at night?”

  It wasn’t like her to lose control, but since Jacob was guilty of this rash act, he could have left the note on the grossdaadi haus and burned the barns, too. She told herself she should talk quietly, not only to calm Sally but to keep him here until someone came along. She should find out where he was living so Nate could question him. But as if he’d read her mind, he said what she feared.

  “We can’t talk here. Get in the car,” he ordered, pointing at it. “Sally and the buggy will be all right.”

  “No. I need to get the buggy towed out. Can you help with that?”

  He lunged at her and pulled her so close she could smell garlic on his breath. He hauled her to the side of the ditch, then dragged her, clawing his way up like a wild animal. She saw he had red splotches on his hands but no visible cuts. Paint. Red paint from that threatening note to Nate.

  “Jacob, you’re hurting me. Let go!” She realized he’d left the car engine running; the driver’s door stood open. “You want to talk, fine,” she forced herself to say. “We’ll talk right here.”

  Seizing her upper arms, he pulled her to him, nearly lifting her off her feet. Up this close, she really looked at him for the first time in months. His flushed face was unshaven, and gray half circles shadowed his wild eyes. A frown furrowed his brow. He lowered his voice, but he sounded so menacing. She smelled something else on his breath—alcohol?

  “We’re not staying here. I don’t want that nosy ausländer MacKenzie or one of my former Amish brethren to come along.” His already-bitter tone turned mocking. “‘Oh, there’s Jacob Yoder, under the curse of the meidung. We all know he’s evil, must have started the fires.’ That’s what you’re thinking, isn’t it, Sarah? And you’re the one who once said you loved me, trusted me! Now you’re listening to him, trusting him.”

  He loosed her arms only to seize her wrist and again drag her toward the open car door. He pulled hard, but she twisted the reins she still held around her right wrist so she was anchored to Sally. Her attempt at another calm command of “Let me go,” was drowned by his shout, flecked with spittle.

  “I said, get in the car! I’m innocent, and you have to help me. I know who lit the fires, and I’ll tell you if you go with me. We’ll call the sheriff, explain things to him to get MacK
enzie off my back. Sheriff Freeman helped me before, but you’ll help me now, won’t you, for all we once meant to each other?”

  “Stop hurting me. Violence is not our way.”

  “Our way!” he exploded again. “There is no ‘our’ anymore! I’ve been banned, banished! You don’t think that’s a kind of violence? And you’re hurting me, too. Now get in this car, or I’ll—”

  Giving up all attempts at calm, Sarah tried to buck away from him and screamed once, again. Someone might hear her, help her, maybe the Schrocks or even Mike Getz.

  Then, roaring down the road toward them, came VERA. The square shape of the dark vehicle was unmistakable.

  When Jacob turned to look, he shouted at her, “Judas! Jezebel!” He shoved her away.

  She staggered back to the edge of the ditch, rolled into it and hit the water again, bottom first this time, next to where Sally stood. Despite heavy, soaked skirts and a curtain of drenched hair in her face, Sarah dropped the reins, got to her feet and clambered up the bank again only to see Jacob’s car speed away. Realizing Nate might stop for her and lose him, she waved her arms and pointed as Nate slowed.

  “It’s Jacob. Go! Go!” she shouted.

  VERA roared away in pursuit.

  Nate stepped on the gas pedal and gripped the steering wheel hard. He was livid with Sarah for going out without telling him, for getting in this situation, but she had flushed Jacob out of hiding. He hadn’t wanted to use her as bait, but had she done that deliberately? And he was furious with himself for not making her promise to stay home. At least he had Jacob in sight, but the car had a head start, and it was faster than VERA. A car chase was definitely not in his job description.