by Anne Hagan
As I got back in my vehicle, I mulled the two differing stories I now had. On the one hand there was Katie who said she was raped and then shunned for being pregnant out of wedlock and on the other, her parents, gentle folks who seemed genuinely saddened over the whole state of affairs, who claimed she was only shunned for lying. Perhaps the elders of the order felt Katie lied about the rape and maybe she had.
I had more questions now than I had answers.
A half mile down the road, I was slowed when I came up behind an Amish buggy. The horse was straining to pull his load up a small hill into a headwind.
Buggies were a fact of life in the area and I waited patiently until I could see over the hill before I moved to scoot around it.
As I pulled alongside, I noticed the driver hadn’t installed the sort of windshield that most of the Amish used to make their travels a little more comfortable in the winter months. Either that, or in the unseasonably warm weather we’d had the previous week, he’d removed it and hadn’t put it back, I thought to myself.
The buggy driver began to sketch a quick wave as most of them do at passing vehicles but then, when he caught site of me, he waved his whole hand and arm excitedly and pointed up ahead. Jonah, the young man that had been in the bent and dent store, was the driver and it seemed he wanted to talk to me.
While I finished my pass and pulled over onto the narrow shoulder, he did the same, falling in about 50 feet behind me.
“Can I help you?” I asked him as I approached him. He didn’t seem to be in any sort of distress but, instead, he hopped down too, to chat with me at ground level.
“I’m Jonah Gingrich, Ma’am. I was in the store a few minutes ago when you were there.”
“Yes?”
“I grew up a quarter mile in the other direction; still live there with my mother and father.”
Not knowing for sure where this was going but curious, I just nodded and let him talk.
“I overheard you asking about Katie.”
Again, I nodded.
“You’ve seen her lately?”
“Yes. She stayed with me for a couple of nights very recently.”
“But, no longer?”
“I’m not sure what her plans are right now.”
“She had her baby, Ma’am?”
“Yes.”
He smiled at that.
“You like Katie, don’t you?”
His face colored a little. “I wanted to court her when she came of age.”
“Sixteen?” He nodded.
“How old are you?”
“I’m eighteen.”
“She’s 17 now. You didn’t begin a courtship with her?”
He kicked a little at the dirt of the road berm. “Katie, she’s a shy one. She wouldn’t come out much, even to work in her parents’ store. She liked to do the housework and work with the gardens. I was working up to it, sitting with her after church and such. She seemed all right with that.” He let out a small sigh. “When she got pregnant, my father forbid me to see her. Now that she’s been shunned, I’ll be shunned too if I try to court her.”
“You would still want to?”
“Katie told the elders she was raped. She wouldn’t lie.” His conviction was absolute. I could tell by the tone of his voice and the way he held my eye.
“Do you know who raped her?”
Now he looked away from me and then quickly back again. I knew, if he did, he wasn’t going to tell me.
He said, “I can’t be sure Ma’am. I never got to talk to her directly about it.”
“But you suspect someone?”
“Katie is safer out of the Order than inside of it Ma’am, as much as it pains me to say it.”
“You love her, don’t you Jonah?”
He held my eye again but pursed his lips and didn’t say anything.
###
9:49 PM, Morelville, Ohio
It was well after 9:00 when I finally got home. Dana and Boo both met me at the door. Dana raised a finger to her lips to caution me to be quiet.
“Jef is asleep,” she whispered.
I smiled at the thought but then, in a normal tone cautioned her, “You never want to let a baby get used to total silence while they’re sleeping. You need to be able to do the things you would normally do. They adjust.”
“Huh, I hadn’t thought of that. Mama said I have a lot to learn and, boy do I.”
She watched as I collapsed into a chair and loved on Boo for a minute.
“I take it there’s been no word?”
“None; not a trace. The dog got the hint of a scent and then lost it.”
Dana was quick to put two and two together. “So she may have walked out of the building but she didn’t walk far...got picked up, maybe, or worse, snatched?”
I shrugged. “We don’t know. There are no leads, no witnesses, nothing.”
“It’s been all over the news.”
“I figured it would be.”
“And Hannah has been texting me all day. She’s a mess.”
“I’m surprised she’s not here.”
“There’s something going on there with Jamie. I hate to say it but I don’t think those two are going to make it.”
Bending, I started to unlace the boots I wore when I was in uniform in the winter months. Boo tried to help. I had to edge her off my laces a couple of times to keep her from chewing the ends.
Dana laughed and, though the pups’ antics were annoying, the sound was good to hear. I stood, holding the boots up out of Boo’s reach and started toward the bedroom.
“Are you hungry?”
“No, but thanks. Holly hung around most of the evening. She ordered us sandwiches when it looked like we’d be there a while. I just want to get some sleep, if I can now and get back at it early in the morning.”
“I, uh, have Jef set up in our room.”
“I figured as much. How long’s he been asleep?”
“Since just after 8:00. He took a couple of ounces of formula and went right down.”
“I expect he’ll wake up a couple of times tonight. Do you have diapers and bottles ready?”
Nodding, she told me, “Mama helped me a lot today and your mom’s been here most of the day too. I think we’re all set.”
We lied in bed and watched the first ten minutes of the 11:00 PM news on low. Jef didn’t wake then but five minutes after we turned the set off and said our goodnights to each other, he stirred and woke with wail.
Dana got up with him and handled him as I looked on and promised to take the next shift. She protested but, in the end, we ended up alternating every 70 to 90 minutes or so as he woke wet or hungry or both.
By 3:45 AM, I resigned myself to the fact that sleep for me wasn’t meant to be until I found Jef’s mother.
Chapter 7 - Goner
Mel
5:40 AM, Tuesday Morning, February 17th
I was sitting back at the kitchen table, this time lacing my boots back on when my duty cell buzzed from where it lay a foot away. Dana was leaned back against a counter, holding Jef against her shoulder, trying to get him to burp. Boo moved back and forth between us seemingly undecided about what was more interesting, mommy with a baby or my boot laces.
Since I was trying to get laced up and shoe her away at the same time, I punched the speakerphone button rather than picking the unit up.
“Sheriff Crane,” I answered.
“It’s Treadway, Sheriff.”
I couldn’t tell anything from my always stoic patrol supervisor’s tone. “What’s going on Joe?”
“We’ve found her Sheriff...or someone we believe to be her.”
“You have a body?” I asked softly. I watched as Dana move toward the table and dropped into a chair, her eyes wide. The move startled Jef who let out a little cry.
“Afraid so.”
“Where?”
“A, uh, farm just south of Dresden.”
“Dresden?” I was shocked. That was 15 miles out of Zanesville.
“That’s not all of it.”
Realizing he was about to give me the details, I started to pick up the phone but then left it be. Dana would drag it out of me soon enough anyway. “Go on,” I told him instead.
“This is an Amish farm Sheriff. She’s laid out in a buggy in Amish clothes minus shoes and not dressed for the weather. There are no signs of any sort of trauma. She may have frozen to death. It got pretty cold last night.”
I shuddered involuntarily and shot a look at my wife. A tear rolled down her cheek.
“Who found her Joe?”
“The farmer that lives here. ‘Says he was out to start his morning milking and his dog kept sniffing at the back of the buggy and carrying on. He looked inside and found her.”
“Did he identify her?”
“No, ‘says he doesn’t know her. His wife and a few children are here. I didn’t question them yet but...I suppose I could.”
“Have they seen the body?”
“No.”
“Then don’t do that yet. I’ll be on my way in a couple of minutes. I’ll ID her when I get there and then we’ll just interview them to find out if they had any association with her. Get the Coroner moving for now. I want an autopsy on this one.”
###
When I reached the farm, not only was the Coroner now there but so was my lead detective Shane Harding and a medical squad. The last one puzzled me.
Shane met me as I dismounted from my vehicle. Pointing at the squad, I asked him, “What’s up with that?”
“The farmer that owns the place, Isaac Byler, and his wife are older. The three kids left here that I’ve seen are mid to late teens. It seems when it dawned on him what he really found, he started having chest pains. Joe called the squad and they’re probably going to run him in if he’ll consent.”
“What exactly did he find?”
“Come on, before the doc moves her.”
Shane led me over to a plain white sided barn that was angled off the driveway, no doubt to block out most of the winds that prevailed in such an open area for six or more months out of the year. He took me around to the far side of it, out of view of the driveway. A black Amish buggy rested there. The tarp that typically covered the back opening during the winter months was tethered up and out of the way. The coroner and two of his crew were working, one in the buggy and two outside it, preparing to lift the girl out.
It was plenty light enough to see well now so I asked them to hold off for a minute and I took a quick look.
No amount of time spent doing police work numbs you to the pain you feel when you witness death and destruction. This time, seeing Katie lying there, stilled forever and so young, I almost lost it. I choked back the bile that rose in my throat and felt its burn as it receded.
Shaking my head at Shane, all I could say was, “She was only 17.” My own heart skipped and fluttered too. I knew how the old farmer felt.
We moved off a little way to let the Coroner do what he needed to do. Treadway joined us then.
“There’s not much here to go on,” he told me. He tipped his head toward Shane, “He’s got pictures of the scene. We’ve found nothing out of place and, with all the gravel and hard ground, we can’t find so much as a footprint.”
I took a breath. “All right then. First, we need to get this family interviewed; find out if they knew her or knew of her, what they heard overnight, what they’ve seen...anything that could help us,” I said. “She didn’t get all the way up here on her own and, given the way she’s dressed, I’d put money on there being Amish ties in the mix somewhere.”
Isaac Byler came out of the main house with the paramedics as our group approached the porch. He was refusing to go with them, telling them he felt fine now and that his place was with his family. They were wheeling their transport gurney out with their equipment riding on top where he would have been instead, had he consented to be taken to the hospital.
“Mr. Byler, I’m Sheriff Crane. This is Detective Harding and you’ve met Deputy Treadway. You’re sure you’re feeling okay.”
“I’m just fine. Had a little shock is all.”
“Okay but I want to know if you start feeling any tightness or short of breath.”
I waited for his affirming nod and then I told him, “I’ve been able to identify the young woman you found this morning. Now, we need to ask you and your family some questions.”
“I see,” he said. Well, you better come inside then where it’s warmer than out here.”
Joe got my attention first. “Do you and Harding have this Sheriff? I’d like to wrap the guys up out here and get them to canvassing the area.”
“Good point Joe. Go ahead.” He stepped off the porch and moved toward the two deputies that were watching the squad and the coroner load up to leave.
Shane and I followed Byler inside. I couldn’t help but note, just inside the door, which led us into the main kitchen area, a car seat carrier similar to the Katie had for Jef, sat on the floor. It, with its’ colorful geometric patterned seat cover, looked so out of place in the sparse starkness of the Amish kitchen.
My unasked question was partially answered when Isaac led us into the family gathering room where a teenaged girl sat giving a baby a bottle. His little flannel shirt with a onesie showing at the neck opening and the blanket covered in ducks wrapped partially around him were all the indicators I needed to see that this was an English rather than Amish baby. Byler said something to the girl in the German dialect members of an Amish Order typically used at home and she rose with the baby and took her leave from the room as I looked on.
“Your daughter cares for children?” I asked him then.
“Aye,” he nodded as he answered. “From time to time for an English couple that lives nearby.”
Shane was anxious to get going. “Is your wife available Mr. Byler?” he asked, almost before the man finished speaking.
Isaac called out for her, again in German, and then turned back to us. “I don’t know how much help we can be,” he said. “I’ve never seen the girl I found today before and your officers wouldn’t let Martha or any of the children go out there.”
Mrs. Byler entered the room then and I introduced myself and Shane. We all sat then and I started off.
“Mr. and Mrs. Byler, I knew the young woman that was in your buggy personally. Her name is Katie Hershberger. She’s from a family in the southeastern part of the county. Is her name familiar to either of you?”
As I knew would be the case, Martha Byler deferred to her husband to answer. He scratched his head and took his time responding. Finally, he told us, “The name Hershberger is; there are many of them, but not Katie. Who is her father?”
“Samuel,” I supplied.
“Aye, I know a Samuel Hershberger. He goes to the auctions at Krell’s from time to time, as I do, if it’s the same one.”
“Krell’s auction house right out on 60?” Shane asked.
Isaac nodded.
“How would Hershberger get there from the southern part of the county?”
I hadn’t expected that question out of Shane but then, we didn’t have many cases that involved the Amish and I often forgot how inexperienced he still was with some things.
Isaac didn’t seem surprised though. “He has a driver bring him up. He buys box lots for his store and even livestock there from time to time.”
“We are talking about the right man then,” I told them. “Samuel Hershberger does run a store. When did you see him last?”
“He comes to the auctions every couple of weeks.”
“Does he ever bring anyone with him?” Shane asked.
“A son, but not always. His driver usually stays the whole time and helps him load what he buys.”
Switching gears, I asked, “Did either of you hear anything at all last night out of the ordinary?”
Isaac Byler shook his head. “It was as quiet as usual, wasn’t it mother?” Martha simply nodded her agreement.
“N
o cars approaching,” Shane asked them, “or voices or anything that might have had your dog on alert?”
Martha spoke up now. “He sleeps in the kitchen, near the stove. He got to fussing for a minute or two last night, didn’t he Isaac?”
“I yelled and he quieted down.”
“Did you notice anything unusual this morning outside, especially out in front then?”
“Twas pretty dark when we were first out there,” Isaac said, “me and the dog.”
Martha’s expression changed from polite interest to one more animated and she rose, excusing herself, saying she’d be right back.
Less than a minute later, she returned carrying a full laundry basket. She put it down on the straight back chair she’d vacated and began sorting through it. “These are the Sunday clothes I washed yesterday. I hung them on the porch to dry as there was a breeze yesterday, noon. It didn’t cross my mind as I was pulling them in this morning but now I see. Ruth, our eldest daughter...her dress isn’t here.”
I winced at the thought of clothes drying in a winter breeze but I pressed on. “Katie had left the Amish,” I told them then, “but, when your husband found her this morning, she was in a blue dress similar to what you’re wearing now.”
“That must be what old Amos heard,” Isaac said. “Someone removed Ruth’s dress.”
“That poor child,” Martha replied. She picked up the basket, placed it on the floor and sat back down in the chair. I waited for her to say more but she was silent.
Shane stayed behind and joined the patrol deputies in their canvass of the area. Given that none of the Byler’s heard a thing but the dog, Amos, I didn’t hold a lot of hope that their few neighbors scattered in the area would have heard or seen anything unusual.
As I drove toward the station thinking all the while of Katie, my heart grew heavier still. Instead of taking the route that would lead me there, I veered the opposite way after crossing the river and, in a few more minutes driving, found myself in a different part of town.
Thinking I really should be going to tell the Hershberger’s of their daughter’s death, I nonetheless slid down out of my vehicle and approached the little house Hannah and her friends shared for the second time in as many days.