by Karen Harper
But she was starting to feel Jack’s allure—no, not starting. For some reason, the man had gotten to her from the first, and it wasn’t just the masculine marine aura or the spiffy police uniform. Maybe it was his deep aloneness, a soft side he tried so hard to hide.
She edged a bit closer to the hardware store. With all the visitors and strangers in town lately, she could see why Mr. Baughman would want it lit at night. Jack was right about crime creeping into rural areas, though that car theft ring Jacob Yoder got involved with was about the worst scandal they’d had in Home Valley—before the clever arsonist took to lighting barns.
She watched Jack peek in the corner of the front window of the store, then jump back. What? Surely not a robbery in progress? She pressed herself against the front of the Hair Port Barber Shop. She slid along past the Hole in the Wall—the pizza and subs shop.
If Jack was into something dangerous across the street, would he be all right?
She moved along until she could see inside the hardware store, which abutted the Homestead Pharmacy and Kwik Shop. Gazing into the store where Jack had gone was like looking at a distant, dim TV picture.
She gasped. Jack was inside with his gun drawn!
Figuring that Stan Comstock was calling to report in, Nate grabbed his satellite phone when it sounded. Caller ID showed it was the sheriff. Nate kept petting Sarah’s horse as he talked.
“Nate here.”
“I’m at the station. I just arrested and booked Mike Getz and Cindee Kramer for B and E, even though she had a key—and for attempted larceny. I surprised them as they were loading up his truck with some stock items from the hardware store, which I think she was juggling in the store records. They probably thought the storm would keep folks off the streets so no one would notice.”
“Good work! So instead of Jacob, we have another suspect off the streets and out of the fields and barns.”
“Right. But let me tell you what they had loaded up. Some tools and camping equipment, including a package of artificial fireplace logs, like you said ignited the Schrock barn. But here’s the kicker. They took a dual-burner Coleman stove and two cylinders of liquid propane to fuel it—or to burn something else.”
“Bingo! The arsonist has been using a different incendiary device for each burn so far, and propane would sure do the trick. Be careful with it because even the slightest spill can give human skin severe frostbite.”
“Frostbite? And it ignites fires? So anyway, you want to have a chat with one or both in the morning?”
“I’ll come into town in the back of Sarah’s buggy when she delivers Ray-Lynn’s half-moon pies. Let’s hope Getz is our man. I hope I can question him quietly so people don’t know I’m back.”
“You want me to have a go at him first? I didn’t trust the guy from the git-go, always in the right place at the right time to play the hero.”
“If it’s okay with you, I still think I’d better do it, since we want to tie him to the arsons. With the fireplace logs and propane—you know in law enforcement coincidences usually aren’t. After I question them, I’ll have you get me back here, let me out somewhere near Kauffman’s and I’ll walk back in. I’m looking pretty Amish these days. But I’ll bring my civilian clothes along for their interrogation. Those two aren’t locked up together, are they?”
“So they can think up a cover story? No way. I had to put Getz in the storage room.”
“Thanks for the good work. This may be the break we need. See you in the morning, and I hope they don’t lawyer up.”
“Haven’t so far. It’s gonna be a long night without a deputy here right now, but I can’t see having one drive in from Wooster with debris all over the roads until tomorrow. See ya.”
A Coleman stove and propane, Nate thought as he punched in Stan Comstock’s number. Then he’d call Mark Lincoln in Columbus. Yeah, that propane in Getz’s possession could have burned Hostetlers’ or this beautiful barn into oblivion.
23
THE MORNING AFTER THE STORM, SARAH HAD to guide Sally around broken tree limbs and piles of wind-swept litter on the roads to get to the Dutch Farm Table with the half-moon pies—and get Nate to the sheriff’s office. She had him hidden again, dressed Amish, but with his own clothes in his backpack. She’d been surprised that her parents had let her take him into town since it was obvious they realized how much she cared for him. Well, they were hardly going to elope in a horse and buggy. Or ever. Above all, Mamm and Daad wanted the arsonist caught, so Nate could leave.
At least Nate now had another strong lead, not Jacob, and, thank the Lord, not Hannah. Sarah hoped the sheriff’s prisoners might be the guilty ones, even if she felt real bad for Cindee to have picked the wrong man to fall in love with.
Nate seemed all business now, so she concentrated not only on safety but speed. She let him out behind the sheriff’s office before heading for the restaurant. She had wanted to say so much that wasn’t arson talk. She sensed that he had, too.
Ordinarily, she thought as she headed for the alley behind the restaurant, a big storm would be the topic of conversation for days around here, but it would probably still take second place to arson talk. And word would soon be all over town that Mike Getz and Cindee Kramer were under arrest. Still, Nate had said, if they didn’t confess, he wanted to keep what he called a sting going at her house.
“Oh, good, you’re here,” Ray-Lynn greeted her as she came in the back door. “I should have known that neither rain nor snow nor sleet nor gloom of night—that’s a post office slogan, I guess, but it suits you and your people, too. I know about Mike and Cindee’s arrest,” she said, whispering now and leaning closer. “It’s not common knowledge yet. I was with the sheriff last night when he spotted them in the hardware store. We were walking in the rain. And the night before last, Jack more or less asked me out. I meant to tell you yesterday when you were here but I was so busy.”
“Oh, Ray-Lynn, that’s great, on both counts—them getting caught and maybe Jack, too. So your hard-to-get plan worked.”
“Something did, my friend,” she said with a glint in her eyes and a funny wiggle of her eyebrows. “I only hope and pray our intrepid arson-fighting duo have the right suspects. Here, I saved the back booth for you because I want you to meet someone who came in from Columbus.”
“Nate’s boss?” she blurted, afraid he might have come to tell Nate he was recalling him.
“The state fire marshal? Why would he come here if Nate’s not around? No, just a sec. Oh, here’s the money for your mother and sister,” she added, digging in one apron pocket and then the other. “Drat—it’s still in the cash register. Be right back,” she said over her shoulder as she broke into a half run around the counter.
Sarah sighed. She was happy for Ray-Lynn, the sheriff, too. But that just made her sadder about Nate, so close but yet so far. After the way Daad had given her his I-won’t-say-it-because-you’re-old-enough-to-know-better look and after what Mamm had blurted out last night that Nate was not for her, she felt all the air had gone out of her.
Ray-Lynn appeared, bringing a nice-looking Englische couple with her. She slipped Sarah the money and whispered, “These people could pay you a hundred times that every week.”
So, Sarah wondered, was Ray-Lynn promoting Mamm and Lizzie’s pastries to restaurant owners in Columbus? That probably wouldn’t work since the pies needed to be fresh, and they’d have to pay someone to deliver them daily.
“So this is the quilt square artist,” the woman said with a warm smile. She had smooth, copper-colored hair that looked great, not crimson and spiky like Hannah’s, but not so natural as Ray-Lynn’s, either. It blended beautifully with her creamy complexion, sharp brown eyes and the russet-and-olive outfit she wore. “We’re honored to meet someone so talented and so modest about it,” the woman added. “Most of the artists we deal with are overly entranced by themselves.”
Uh-oh, Sarah thought as Ray-Lynn made the proper introductions of Ginger and Geoff Markwood.
“We’ve seen your barn paintings in the papers and in person—the Hostetler barn one,” Geoff Markwood said. He was quite a big man, but not fat. Like Mike Getz, he was bald but he had an earring in one lobe. “Ginger’s the eyes and brain, and I’m just the moneyman,” he said with a smile. “We both like your abstract work very much and hear you do primitive realism, also.”
When Sarah simply nodded, Ray-Lynn said, “It must be great to have a marriage and a business partnership, even steven, like you two do. Sarah, Ginger and I were sorority sisters years ago in Georgia, and now here we both are, living in Ohio.”
“Ray-Lynn has said you also do panorama work—scenes with Amish people and places,” Ginger said. Sarah knew she had to say something. She didn’t want them to think she was tongue-tied or dense.
“Only in sketches so far. The colors that would go with them are in my head.”
“We’d love to see any sketches you could share with us,” Ginger said. “We specialize in developing and launching emergent talent through our gallery New Horizons in Columbus, but we have a large online presence, also.”
“Why don’t we sit down here? I’ve been fixin’ to get you all together for a long time,” Ray-Lynn said, sounding more Southern than usual when Ginger didn’t one bit. Ray-Lynn eased them into the booth across from Sarah, then squeezed in next to Sarah so she was blocked in.
“I have no sketches to share at this time,” Sarah said, ignoring the fact Ray-Lynn gave her a little kick under the table. “My sketchbook’s been damaged.”
“Really?” Ray-Lynn asked. “What happened?”
“It’s a long story. It was very nice to meet both of you, especially since you’re Ray-Lynn’s friends, but I really need to be getting back home.”
“Oh,” Ray-Lynn said, looking upset when Sarah thought she was the one who’d been penned in here without warning. Nate might call this a sting.
“Of course, we understand,” Ginger said. “We hope you won’t object if we drive past the painting you’re doing now, and please keep us in mind at New Horizons if you do decide to look for funding to paint or need a studio space or a gallery outlet.”
“Thank you. I sure will, and Ray-Lynn will remind me if I don’t.”
Sarah bumped hips with Ray-Lynn to make her scoot out of the booth. At the back door, Ray-Lynn caught up with her. “Sarah—”
“You set that up when you know temptations like that can cause me all kinds of problems.”
“I didn’t set it up,” she insisted as she followed Sarah outside to her buggy. “They just appeared today, surprised me, and I couldn’t pass up the chance to introduce you. Sarah, I promise I won’t bug you again, but you know your painting career would make you happy and help your people. Your profits could rebuild a lot of barns, pay for a lot of hospital bills….”
“We do that as a group, Ray-Lynn.”
“Oh, right. All for one and one for all. I’m sorry, but I think you’re making a big mistake.”
“I’ve made them before. But I hope not to make ones to lose me everything—including someone I’ve considered a trusted friend.”
She climbed into the buggy and snapped the reins to make Sally move. Weak rebel that she was—yes, rebel, because she wanted to run back there and promise to paint for them right now at their place called New Horizons, because she longed for new horizons of her own—she began to cry. She dared not strike out on her own and she was going to lose not only that chance but Nate, as well.
Nate emerged from a two-hour interrogation of Mike Getz and a half-hour one with Cindee Kramer, feeling like a failure. The guy hadn’t budged from the claim that—yes, he’d been “borrowing” a few things from the Homestead Hardware Store since Cindee began working there two years ago, but he didn’t have anything to do with burning barns. Oh, no, he was a hero in that regard, always on Nate’s side.
It was just, Mike had explained, that Mr. Baughman who owned the hardware store, didn’t pay Cindee enough. They liked to save money on firewood in the winter, and they liked to go camping. So the logs and the Coleman stove and propane would be well used.
The fact they’d taken the camping stove as well as the propane made Nate half believe the guy, even though he wanted to throw the book at him. In a way, it was Jacob Yoder all over again. A criminal was under arrest but maybe not for the arsons.
And Cindee? She’d done nothing but sob and say how much she loved Mike. She knew nothing about a note in the sack of paint she’d left by the Kauffman barn for Sarah, and she and Mike knew next to nothing about the Bible. Even though they’d been read their Miranda rights, neither of them had asked for a lawyer. And wouldn’t they have done that, Nate thought, if they were guilty of arson?
“So, you still think we don’t have our man?” Jack asked as Nate almost collapsed in the chair on the other side of his desk.
“Or woman. Probably not.”
They both sat silent for a moment before Jack spoke.
“Happy to say, I’ve got another woman, though, and I’m not talking arson. I believe Ray-Lynn’s explanation of her being at the Esh barn the night of the first fire. But, on a personal note, I made up with her, too.”
Nate glared at him. “Did you ever try to find out if she had an alibi for the Schrock fire like you said you’d do?”
“I said I believe her. You’re getting punch-drunk, man. Go get some sleep. I’d arrest Bishop Esh—or Sarah Kauffman—before I’d think it was Ray-Lynn!”
Nate didn’t want to get the man more upset than he already was. As soon as the rent-a-deputy got here from Wooster, Nate wanted Jack to drop him off near the Kauffman farm so he could hike back in as Amish. But he didn’t know how long this charade would last. One person he wasn’t fooling was himself. He wasn’t Amish and yet he was falling in love with an Amish woman. She wasn’t worldly and wasn’t leaving her people. And he’d failed to solve an arson case he’d thought at first would be so simple.
The rest of that day did nothing to make Nate feel better. After the sheriff dropped him off near the cemetery and he hiked back to the farm, it was even more obvious that Sarah’s parents were keeping her away from him. That evening, they insisted Sarah and Martha take care of their grandmother back out in the grossdaadi haus and keep watch on the barn from there. Gabe stayed in the barn while Nate had Ben with him in Sarah’s bedroom.
Out by the front of the barn, absolutely nothing had changed, except that Sarah’s painting was growing larger. He had stared at it so long that it actually looked to him as if the multicolored ocean waves were moving, cresting, breaking on the dark wooden sea of the barn. He recalled how Sarah had told him she and Hannah had rescued Ella from drowning in the pond years ago, how there was some cold current deep down that tried to pull them under. He felt like that was happening to him.
On Friday morning, the day before the barn raising, Nate helped Ben and Gabe haul chairs and tables over to the Esh property. They even let him drive the big team on the road between the two farms.
Meanwhile, Mrs. Kauffman and Lizzie baked half-moon pies for the Dutch Farm Table and the barn raising. Outside, Sarah kept painting the quilt square. Back in the Kauffman kitchen for noontime dinner, Nate stared at the battery-operated clock on the wall. He heard his own clock ticking, his thudding heartbeat. He had to catch the barn burner. His boss had to have VERA back soon. Sarah—would he get some time with her to even say goodbye? He’d found the woman he wanted and he could not have her without destroying her. The Bible notes he’d kept secret were more than a ticking clock. They were a time bomb in Peter Clawson’s hands. Nate could be accused of secrecy, of betrayal. He’d blown this case, his first failure on the job he used to be more passionate about than anything else—before Sarah.
He almost refused to eat dinner with the family, but where else would he go without a car? He didn’t want to insult them, but he couldn’t bear to see Sarah across the table, because she might as well be across the continent. Once he was called back to Columbus and
this continuing investigation was turned over to Stan Comstock—however much the man had hinted he wanted to retire—he’d never see her again. In this world, one just didn’t text or call or pick up an Amish woman for a date. He was sure she cared for him, too, but that made everything worse. So when the family bent their heads before the noon meal and prayed silently as was their custom, he asked the Lord for help to know what to do—to stop the arsonist, to not have to give up the woman he loved.
Right after the meal, when Ben and Gabe had gone next door to help Bishop Esh with a big delivery of timber for the new barn, Ray-Lynn called Nate on the cell number Jack had given her. M.E. was at the restaurant with two of her friends to see Amish country and she wanted to see him, too, because “she knew very well he wasn’t in Columbus like this nice lady who runs the restaurant said.”
“I don’t like being misled or strung along by you or Jack,” Ray-Lynn told Nate over the phone, her voice sharp. “He figured he had to tell me you’ve been around here the whole time despite what you told me. Trying to trap me, Nate? And Jack went along with it, so he doesn’t trust me, either. If you’re still looking at me as a suspect, then the kind, sweet woman sitting in booth twelve did a lousy job of raising you! Jack said to tell you if you need to get VERA, he’ll unlock his garage door. So if you’re going to turn back into Superman instead of being Clark Kent again, you just stay away from Sarah because neither you nor Jack deserve either of us!” She hung up.
Nate explained to the Kauffman women that his cover was blown. “With Ray-Lynn and anyone in earshot of the restaurant, I’ll have to give up the ruse of not being here and get to VERA so I can go see my foster mother. I’ll let the word out that I’ve returned for the barn raising. I’ll come back and park at the pond later, if it’s all right with Mr. Kauffman, but it ruins my pretending I’m not here. Still, I’d like to help keep an eye on things around here tonight.”