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Wicked Legacy (Serenity's Plain Secrets Book 10)

Page 3

by Karen Ann Hopkins


  The stony set of his jaw had loosened as I talked. Before he even spoke, I knew he was on board. “Melinda was a year and a half younger than me. She moved here when she was around twelve, I reckon. I noticed her because of her practical nature. She was hard working and not prone to gossip or drama. One time, I remember when a group of us was walking to the schoolhouse. We must have been in seventh and eighth grade at the time, and it was the beginning of a warm, autumn day. The girls ran on ahead when they spotted a rabbit in the road. It had been hit by a car but was still moving. The girls were upset. The poor creature was dying slowly.” He took a quick breath and looked past me. “Melinda knelt on the road and picked the rabbit up. She carefully probed its body, ignoring the blood on her hands and the other girls’ squeals. When she glanced up at me, she said, “Her back is broken. There’s nothing we can do for her except help her quickly on her journey to the other side.” Then in a fluid movement, she broke the rabbit’s neck. The other kids gasped and then walked away. I lingered for a moment longer, watching as she climbed over the guard rail and slid down the embankment until she found a nice grassy spot that was shaded by the low branches of a tree. She lovingly set the rabbit down, mumbled something that I couldn’t hear and jogged back up to the road where she rejoined me. She wiped her dirty hands on the sides of her green dress and went on to school.”

  “Wow,” was all I could muster.

  “If my memory serves me right, she was friends with Katherine Bender. She can probably tell you more about Melinda than I can.”

  “Was she pretty?” Daniel’s sad bunny tale was just what I needed to start forming a personality profile of the madam.

  He shrugged. “Yeah, I guess so. She had blonde hair and brown eyes. Fair skin. At a glance, you might think she was dainty because she was slim, but she was one of the stronger girls. Her aunt and uncle owned a dairy farm that she worked on.”

  “Are they still in our settlement?”

  “The last I heard, both of them passed away recently.” Daniel twirled his thumbs on the sides of my hips as he looked at me. “You know, it’s not a good idea to talk about Melinda’s career choice. The Amish will not approve, and it will stir up a whole mess of gossip.”

  “What if it wasn’t by choice?” I ventured.

  Daniel sighed and his head rocked sideways. “Not everything is nefarious, Serenity. Melinda ran away, just like I did. I didn’t know her that well, but I’d guess she had the same resentment toward the lifestyle that so many of us had. It’s never an easy transition. Drugs and illicit behavior plague young people after they escape the harsh, restrictive world of my people. I got into my fair share of trouble when I left. Elayne Weaver was the exception. She was disciplined, knew exactly what she wanted and went for it. That’s why she’s a successful lawyer now. It took me many years and a few brushes with the law to finally settle down into being an Englisher. That’s what freedom is all about—the choice to be good or bad.”

  As I’d listened to Daniel, so many thoughts swirled around in my head. When Amish teens left the community, they didn’t just lose their family and friends. They also were suddenly introduced into a brand-new world where they could do whatever they wanted. It was understandable that many of them fell into a bad way after their liberation.

  “If you’re right and Melinda left Blood Rock willingly, do you think she made a bad choice by moving to Nevada and becoming involved with legal prostitution?”

  “Of course! What a rotten way for a woman to make a living.” The distaste curled Daniel’s lips.

  I agreed but felt inclined to play devil’s advocate. “From what you’ve told me about Melinda King, she was a hard-working, practical-thinking kind of person. She’s our age now, and one would suppose she’d have the means to quit that kind of job if she wanted to, but she’s still in it.”

  “You said Melinda is a madam, right?” I nodded my answer. “It’s probably the power then. Most of us who left the Amish had a real problem with authority. The prospect of being in charge is probably attractive to her. She’s the one who calls all the shots now.”

  I made a hmm noise. That’s an interesting way to look at it. “We’ll talk to Katherine and the bishop. Anyone else you can think of?”

  He chuckled. “It wouldn’t hurt to check in with Ma. She’d probably remember Melinda. Her take on the girl and her disappearance could be enlightening.”

  That was putting it mildly. Daniel’s mother was a kind of Amish medicine woman. Anna didn’t just do the regular herbal remedies and tea concoctions. There was something almost mystical about her at times. In my last case, she’d been pivotal in helping me get to the bottom of what really happened to a young Amish widow found hanging in her backyard. The files for that investigation were still warm on my desk and frosty in my mind.

  “I’ll add her to the list.” I tilted my head. “Do you want to join us?”

  He quickly shook his head. “I have an early morning at a new job site. Not to mention, the excavating work on our own house is scheduled to begin tomorrow. Or did you already forget?”

  I had forgotten, but I wouldn’t let Daniel know, hurting his feelings. “Nope. I can wait to see the building begin. I just thought you’d handle the little details and I’d show up when it’s framed.”

  “Little details?” he smiled deeply and then quickly sobered. “Honestly, I need a break from Amish crime. I’m glad you have Toby as backup, and I hope the case doesn’t spiral out of control. The last thing the community needs is more drama on the heels of Rosetta Bontrager’s murder. My family is still reeling from that insanity.” I wondered at his change of mood and willingness to step back from the Amish goings-on all of a sudden. “I’m going to focus on my business and building our dream home while you dig into what happened to Melinda and the other women.”

  A smile lifted my lips. “Is that all you’re going to focus on?”

  I saw the flash of surprise in Daniel’s eyes. “I thought you’d want to wait on the making-a-baby thing because of the new investigation.”

  “It’s the best part of my day,” I admitted. I slowly unbuttoned my blouse and then tossed it onto the floor. The expectant look on Daniel’s face made thoughts about Melinda King wither away.

  “I love you, Serenity.” He pulled me down onto his chest and kissed me like it was our first kiss, or maybe our last.

  I would savor this moment. Who knew what tomorrow would bring?

  4

  I took one more sip of coffee from the canister and put on my sunglasses. Toby was already out of the car. I moved at a slower pace. Early mornings weren’t really my thing. I also had the excuse of it being a late night, but I certainly wasn’t going to complain about Daniel’s energy level once he’d realized I wasn’t putting the brakes on starting a family. It might take me a while to make up my mind about monumental life decisions, but once I did, I was all in.

  “Are you sure he’s home? Looks quiet.” Toby commented, taking the porch steps two at a time. The marshal was a morning, afternoon, and night person. The time of day didn’t matter to him. The wiry-built man was always on his A game.

  I avoided looking at the large willow tree as I stepped on the rock path leading to the bishop’s house. Too many unpleasant memories beneath those long, wispy branches. “Since his niece was killed, Aaron has been a bit distant. He doesn’t encourage visitors, wanting to spend time alone reading scripture.” I joined Toby at the wooden door.

  “That’s damn depressing,” Toby commented. He gestured at the door with his hand and stepped back to let me do the knocking.

  Yes, it was. My stomach filled with butterflies while we quietly waited for the door to open. Starting investigations was always an adrenaline rush. Especially in the Amish community, where you never knew what might happen next.

  The bishop didn’t make us wait long. When he stepped onto the porch, I smelled the aroma of brewed
coffee wafting out the doorway from his kitchen. He must have seen me sniff the air. “Go on and get yourself and Marshal Bryant a cup. I’ll wait on the porch for you.”

  I mumbled a “Thank you.” I wasn’t going to turn down a fresh cup of hot brew.

  Once the three of us were seated on various rocking chairs with mugs in hand and the sun rising quickly in the sky, I returned my attention to Blood Rock’s bishop. “How are you doing, Aaron? You sleeping any better?”

  The old man shrugged and continued to stare down the driveway as if he expected someone to arrive at any moment. His white beard, hair, and brows seemed a little whiter if that was possible. He had always been rail thin, but now, his skin covered his sharp, Abraham Lincoln-looking bone structure even tighter. Had he been eating anything at all since Rosetta’s death?”

  “Eh, when you’re my age, you don’t need or want as much sleep.” He said it in a dismissive tone.

  I stopped rocking and leaned forward. “You have to take care of yourself. The community needs you.”

  The bishop grunted and swatted the air with his hand. “For a time, maybe. I must hand over the reins soon, Serenity. I fear that my ruling days are quickly coming to an end.”

  His words shocked me. Where was the scary Amish man, full of piss and vinegar, who was usually a thorn in my backside during previous investigations? Looking at him now, he was just a shell of his former self. I wasn’t ready to let the holy man check out just yet.

  “Don’t be stupid. There isn’t anyone in the community who can control things the way you do.” When his brows shot up, I softened my voice. “I know Rosetta’s death has been hard on you, and it will take time to see the world through clearer eyes again. It will get better. I promise.” I folded my hands tightly around the warm mug. “I’ve witnessed and experienced horrible things. There’s been times I wanted to throw in the towel too. Hell, becoming a hermit in a wooded area is still appealing, but people need me. Not everyone can do what I do. I’ll be in the game until my body can’t do it anymore. My mind and heart are things that might never be one hundred percent after the things I’ve seen. There’s real evil out there, Bishop, and you know it. I’m needed.” I nodded at Toby. “So is Marshal Bryant. The same thing goes for you.”

  “Well said,” Toby commented.

  The bishop’s mouth puckered, and he sat up straighter. In a blink of an eye, he looked fiercer. “Joseph Bender has been talking to others in the community already. He plans to take my place, and it seems the support is with him.”

  Whoa. I expected Katherine’s husband would be the one to usurp Aaron someday in the future, but not this fast. Things were moving quicker than I thought they would or wanted them to. Joseph was less agreeable than Aaron was, and that’s hard to do. The man was bull-headed, stubborn, and he didn’t possess the kind of wisdom that the elder bishop had. Joseph’s only saving grace was his wife. Katherine had the depth, character, and reasonableness that her husband lacked. It was fifty-fifty whether Joseph listened to his wife on any given day, and those odds were not to my liking.

  “Are you going to let Joseph steal your position before you’re ready to hand it over?” Our eyes met and I narrowed my gaze. “He’s taking advantage of your difficult time. You better get your emotions in check and pull yourself together, Bishop. Blood Rock isn’t ready for a change of leadership. Your congregation needs to know that you’re okay and you’re still invested in them. Once you prove that, no one will stand against you.”

  The bishop smoothed down his beard. His pursed lips told me he was being thoughtful. My words were sinking in. “Moses and Lester have already said they support me.” He mused for several long seconds. I could almost hear the ticking of his active mind even in his silence. “I believe you’re right. I still have one or two more good years in me to serve this community. I’ll take Joseph under my wing, mold him into a solid leader.” He lifted a brow and gave me a curt nod. “That should slow down his ambition and get him to back down.”

  “Excellent.” I sipped my coffee, feeling instantly better.

  “Thank you for the inspirational talk. I admit, I’m set in my ways, and sometimes even I need a little push.” It might have been my imagination, but the bishop’s more animated face made him already look better.

  “We all do.” I glanced at Toby and he affirmed my statement with a single nod. Lord knows, if it wasn’t for Daniel, Bobby, Todd, my sister, or best friend, CJ, I would have bailed out of life long ago. “That’s what friends are for.” I smiled at the bishop and he returned the favor. It was strange that after all the time we spent on different ends of any argument, we had somehow grown close. I could guarantee the Amish leader would never stop irritating me or avoiding the truth when it didn’t fit his narrative, but he’d always been a sharpshooter and I appreciated that. He would do almost anything to protect his people, and I got that too.

  The bishop folded his hands on his lap, and with a relaxed face that he hadn’t had a moment earlier, he turned to Toby. “Marshal, have you found Melinda King?”

  The man was still on top of things.

  “Yes, Sir, I did.” The bishop raised his brows expectantly and Toby flashed me a grin. “Ms. King lives in Nevada.”

  The bishop pursed his lips. His face sagged a little in what I can only describe as relief. “Then she is alive. That’s good news.” He cocked his head. “Why has she kept herself hidden?”

  Toby glanced my way and I lifted my chin for him to continue. “I reckon it’s because she has a fairly controversial job.”

  The bishop stood up and crossed the front porch. When he stopped and turned, his tall, lanky frame, all dressed in black, was silhouetted by the sun. “What is her occupation?”

  It was time for me to help Toby out. “She’s a madam.”

  Confusion widened the bishop’s eyes and etched deep lines on his face. “What does a madam do?”

  I swallowed and brushed aside the awkwardness. “She heads up a brothel—a place where men purchase the services of prostitutes.”

  The poor man’s mouth dropped open, and he mumbled something unintelligible in his Pennsylvania Dutch language. It took a moment for him to regain his composure. Toby and I sipped our coffee. A cow mooed in the distance and I watched several smaller birds chase after a crow in the sky.

  The bishop finally looked up with a troubled gaze. “Good, Lord. Melinda would be in her thirties by now and old enough to remove herself from such sinfulness. Why wouldn’t she return home?”

  “We were kind of hoping you’d have the answer to that question,” Toby said. “There are two other Amish women working at the same establishment that Ms. King manages. The younger woman, Lynette King, is twenty-two. She left the Amish when she turned eighteen. Twenty-six-year-old Susanna Miller also went English when she turned eighteen. She was recently murdered by a man who just so happened to be a fugitive on our most wanted list. His partner, George Walker, is still on the run.” Toby rubbed his jaw. “It’s a mighty big coincidence that the woman you asked me to look into is in a roundabout way connected to another case of mine. Almost uncanny. But there you have it.”

  The bishop made a deep, grunting noise before he stopped pacing and spoke. “I don’t know anything about Susanna Miller or Lynette King. Both surnames are common among our people, and I don’t have as many living relations or acquaintances from Mt. Carmel as I once had.”

  Not surprising. Bishop Esch was being evasive. “Come on. Mt. Carmel is less than an hour’s drive away. It’s hard to believe that you don’t know the families of those young women.”

  Toby hadn’t taken his eyes off of the bishop, who appeared to be lost in thought. The faraway look on the bishop’s face made me wonder if he’d even heard me. I was about to repeat myself when he began talking.

  “You know better than most that young people regularly leave our communities. It’s not something that we discuss much
. We’ve learned it’s better to forget them and move on.”

  “That’s kind of cold,” Toby said. The corner of his mouth twitched. He found the bishop amusing.

  The bishop swatted the air with his hand. “Ack. You don’t understand our ways like Serenity does. It is the way it is.”

  I considered my next words carefully. “Mt. Carmel’s community is more rustic than yours, isn’t it?”

  His head bobbed from side to side. “So that’s what the English call it. Hmm. I hadn’t thought of that description, but yes, it’s accurate.” He focused on Toby. “Mt. Carmel residents don’t use indoor plumbing. They still have primitive accommodations in the bathrooms and instead of normal refrigerators powered by gas, like we have, they store ice they cut from frozen ponds in wintertime to keep their food cool in the summer.”

  “There are other differences though,” I spoke up. Over the last few years my fascination with the culture had grown from a combination of necessity and sheer curiosity. It didn’t hurt that my husband used to be Amish. He had a wealth of information crammed into his handsome head.

  “That’s true,” the bishop confirmed. “Their Ordnung—” He leveled a harder look at Toby to make sure he was listening. “It’s a list of the rules we live by. Many laws are universal among our people, but some things are allowed to be decided by individual communities. The Mt. Carmel Ordnung allows the practice of Rumspringa—”

  Toby interrupted. “When Amish teens run wild.”

  The bishop snorted, shaking his head. “Not exactly. It’s a time when some communities allow their young people more freedom in the hopes of weeding out the ones that are more likely to rebel.” When Toby nodded, the bishop continued. “Mt. Carmel male residents are also permitted to drink alcohol and smoke cigarettes.”

  Tobby chuckled and smirked sideways at me. “So, the Amish don’t have equal rights when it comes to the fun stuff.”

 

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