Lamb to the Slaughter (Serenity's Plain Secrets Book 1) (5 page)

Seeing bodies on the job didn’t really bother me much, but the intimacy of the casket, and the loved ones around, was another story altogether. For once, I was thankful for Todd’s company.

Bobby had done a good job, but the lack of any makeup showed Naomi clearly for what she was—a very dead girl. Her
dress was a deep hunter green that contrasted sharply with the white cap on her head and the ashen color of her skin. I also noticed that her face was placed in the same position as I’d seen her in the field, to the side. Bobby, being both the coroner and the only mortician in town, could only do so much.

As I looked at the dead girl with morbid curiosity, my eyes travelled to the girl’s cap. Her head had been bare when we’d found her in the corn. It was another question to file away in my head, and hopefully get the answer to someday soon.

Todd and I spent less than a minute beside the body, long enough for each of us to say a silent prayer for the girl, before we moved on to the row of family members seated in the plastic chairs to the side of the casket. At least, I assumed that these people were Naomi’s family.

After a fast appraisal, I approached the middle aged couple sitting closest to the casket. The little bit of hair that I could see poking out in front of the woman’s cap was the same blondish color of Naomi’s locks. Her eyes were brown, and completely free of tears or redness. I fumbled mentally for a second wondering if this woman was indeed Naomi’s mother, when Bishop Esch appeared beside me.

“Sheriff Adams, this is Timothy Beiler and his wife, Patricia.” The bishop motioned to the couple who I’d guessed were the parents. James Hooley and Joseph Bender were suddenly there, flanking the bishop. I wondered how they’d managed to sneak up without me noticing.

I extended my hand in greeting to Timothy. Patricia remained seated with her hands tightly clasped on her lap. I didn’t offer my hand to her.

“I’m sorry about your daughter’s death. I certainly don’t want to burden you during such a difficult time, but there
are a few things we need to discuss. If you aren’t comfortable speaking with me now, I’d be happy to schedule an appointment to meet at my office in a day or two.”

When no one spoke, I added, “Or, I could come back.”

Timothy had a shaggy, brown beard, and dull, blue eyes. Patricia was being the quiet one at the moment, but a glance at her face told me she was the keener of the two.

After Timothy received an approving nod from the bishop, he said, “I’d rather get it over with now.”

The room had mysteriously emptied in the time it took me to approach the Beilers. Besides myself and Todd, only the couple, the bishop, and the two ministers remained. Todd’s eyebrow lift told me he was feeling as weird as I was.

“Would you like to speak somewhere more private?” I asked Timothy, hoping to get him away from the church authorities.

“No, this is fine.” Timothy seemed almost bored, while Patricia nervously tapped her fingers together. I wondered again, where was the anguish over losing a child?

Pulling the note pad out of my back pocket, I took a breath and began. “When did you last see Naomi?”

There was silence while Timothy looked to his wife for the answer. Patricia finally spoke, “I saw her on the morning of October twentieth. Timothy hadn’t seen her since the night before.”

The woman’s voice was matter of fact, but the words she said confirmed my suspicions. “Mr. Dolson, the farmer working the cornfield where Naomi was found, discovered the body on November sixth…that’s seventeen days. You mean, neither of you saw her after the twentieth?”

They both shook their heads meeting my eyes with sureness.

Bishop Esch, said, “No one else in the community did either, Ms. Adams.”

“Why didn’t you report her missing?” I asked Timothy and Patricia, but my eyes were focused on Patricia, wondering what kind of mother ignores her daughter’s disappearance.

Timothy sighed, stretching his beard tight between his fingers.

“We believed that our daughter had run away,” Timothy said, averting his eyes.

“And why would she do that?” I asked.

Timothy met my stare defiantly and said, “Naomi was always a strong willed girl, even as a child she caused mischief. We had every reason to think that she’d left the community in search of another way of life.”

“Was she having difficulties that you knew about?”

Both Timothy and Patricia shook their heads, but said nothing. I was about to open my mouth when Bishop Esch spoke. “It’s uncommon, but occasionally, a young person decides that the Plain ways aren’t for them. You see, we don’t practice rumspringa in our community. If a teenager has wild oats to sow, they typically leave.”

The rain was coming down harder again, streaking the basement windows to the point of obscuring any sign of the outdoors. The room had turned darker with nature’s onslaught. After watching the drops travel down the window for a few seconds, I turned to the bishop and asked, “What’s rumspringa?”

I had just about forgotten that Todd was even present until he piped up. “It’s when the Amish kids get to run wild for a couple of years before they decide to settle down and join the church.”

The bishop forced a smile and said, “You’ve simplified the definition, but achieved the main idea.”

Todd grinned, satisfied with his show of knowledge. Even though my mind acknowledged that Todd knew a hell of a lot more about the Amish than I did, I dismissed him, turning back to the parents.

“Let me make sure I understand you both correctly. You believe that Naomi ran away from her home because she didn’t want to be Amish?” I spoke to Timothy, but turned my gaze to his wife again.

Timothy said, “Yes.”

“But, where did you think she’d gone?” I knew the Amish thought differently than the rest of us, but still, their indifference to their daughter’s disappearance was inexcusable.

Timothy shrugged, and Patricia ignored me. I looked to Bishop Esch, who replied, “Once one of the young members of our flock chooses to leave us, we do not give it much thought, besides praying for their safe return and well-being. Our hope is always that they will find their way back to us and the Lord in time.”

“If Naomi had run away as you believe, where would she have been heading to in the cornfield?” I was overflowing with questions, but I paced myself, knowing that at any moment the Amish might stop talking altogether. I had to pick my questions carefully.

The bishop answered me. “Only our heavenly Father knows for sure, but possibly she was making her way towards one of the county roads.”

After studying a topographical map, I’d already decided that Naomi was aiming for Burkey Road. It was interesting that the bishop had guessed the same thing.

I breathed deeply and glanced at Todd, who urged me on with the lift of his chin. I was dreading the next question.

“Did Naomi have a boyfriend?” I asked softly.

The only sound was the pattering of the raindrops against the house. I saw the exchange of looks between the Amish, and was beginning to think that they were done with me, when Timothy said, “No. She didn’t.”

Why did it take so long to answer? And, why was Timothy Beiler lying?

“Are you saying that she didn’t have the attention of any of the Amish boys that you know of?”

“That’s right,” Timothy confirmed as he stared out the window, avoiding my eyes.

I wrestled inwardly whether I should tell them now or wait until after the girl was in the ground. Either way, it wouldn’t make it any easier on them. Then again, maybe they wouldn’t be as surprised as I hoped they’d be, judging by their nonchalant manner toward the situation.

“Mr. and Mrs. Beiler, I really do need to have a moment alone with you. There was a discovery during the autopsy that I’d like to talk to you about in private,” I said, hoping they’d agree.

Timothy said with conviction, his gaze suddenly sharp, “You may speak freely here. Aaron, James and Joseph are close friends.”

I stopped my eyes from rolling at his words. Damn. I expected him to say that.

“Your daughter was six weeks pregnant when she died,” I blurted out, wanting to get the revelation out of the way as quickly as possible.

Patricia sucked in a breath, bringing her hands to her face. Timothy put his arm tightly around her shoulder. Finally, I
had a show of emotion, but for a potential grandchild, not their daughter.

The bishop and ministers remained silent, their faces expressionless. If these men ever played poker, they’d be good at it.

Patricia rose abruptly, turning her suddenly pale face away from me. I didn’t understand her customs, but I saw the angst just the same. Timothy talked to her and then to the bishop before he left with Patricia. His hand still gripped her shoulder as the two made their way to the stairway that led up to the house.

I would have given up the contents of my savings account to know what they’d said before they’d exited. The fact that they spoke a language that only their own people were privy to could be a real disadvantage in this investigation.

I turned to Bishop Esch. “I’m sorry that the news upset them.”

“It is what it is.” The bishop shrugged, keeping his gaze locked on me.

“I need to talk to the father, Mr. Esch. Do you have any ideas who it is?”

It might have been my imagination, or a continuation of the heebie-jeebies that I was feeling, but I could have sworn that my words had caused Joseph Bender to suddenly shift his weight and take a soft intake of breath.

I narrowed my eyes on Joseph and asked him, “Do you have any information pertinent to this discussion, Mr. Bender?”

“No, I do not,” Mr. Bender said, and then he turned and followed the Beiler’s tracks up the stairs. James Hooley wasn’t far behind, leaving me and Todd alone with the bishop.

“It’s been a long day. I’ll be going to get the horse and buggy ready now. Before I depart, I must ask you a question, Ms. Adams. Why is it so important for you to know who the child’s father is?” Bishop Esch asked quietly.

There was no need for the man to know that the discovery of Naomi’s pregnancy could turn the accidental homicide into a murder investigation. I searched my mind for the best words to use. After all, I was sure I’d be seeing quite a bit of the bishop in the days to come.

“It’s just protocol, Mr. Esch. I want to make sure all the paper work is filled out completely before I close the case.”

“And, I assume that there are ways in your world of science to determine exactly who the father is?” The bishop asked.

“Yes, there are.”

“I see…well, I must be going.” He tipped his hat, and said, “Have a blessed day.”

When Todd and I were back in the car, I finally relaxed.

“What do you make of all this?” I glanced over to see Todd staring out the window at the saturated landscape.

“It’s fucked up if you ask me.”

I translated his words to mean that he agreed with me. There was more going on in the Blood Rock Amish Community than anyone was willing to tell us.

“With these people being so damned tight lipped, how am I going to get any straight answers? No one’s going to talk to me because I’m not Amish,” I said to myself as much as to Todd.

“Maybe that’s your solution.” Todd shrugged with a lopsided smile appearing on his face. A face that I guess, some women would find attractive.

“What?”

“You need an Amish person to help you get in with the Amish people.” Todd’s voice was smug with concealed knowledge.

I pulled off the road, careful not to get into the soft ground too far before I turned the engine off.

“Will you just spit it out!” I demanded.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re cute when you get all riled up?” Todd joked, but seeing the look on my face that told him plainly that he was about to get hit, he went on quickly, “Go talk to Daniel Bachman. He might be able to help you.”

The picture of the gorgeous building contractor sprang to mind. The man was unusually tall with bulging muscles in all the right places. His dark wavy hair and midnight black eyes had triggered romantic images of pirates and sailing ships when I’d first seen him.

I was more confused than before. “Do you mean the Daniel Bachman who put a new roof on my house last spring? Why ever would I want to talk to him about this mess?”

“You’ve already met him? Well, forget it then. He’s probably scared of you now.” Todd actually looked deflated. I had to fight my pride to ignore the comment.

“Be serious, Todd.
Why, Mr. Bachman?”

Todd looked at me sideways, saying, “Because, he used to be Amish.”

“What! You must be mistaken…Heather told me about all the women that the guy’s been through. Not to mention, the two DUIs on his record.”

I settled back in the seat, trying to think of any clue that the man had given when I’d dealt with him during the roofing job, but came up empty.

“You ran his name?” Todd sounded appalled.

“Hey, I don’t know anything about roofs. I wanted to make sure the guy was reputable. Just forget about that anyway. When did he leave the Amish?”

“I ran into him over at Charlie’s Pub one night,” He eyed me and went on to promise, “I wasn’t on duty, don’t worry. Daniel joined me and Daryl at the table. He was a little wasted, but not too bad. Anyway, he basically gave us his entire life story.”

“And…?”
I could have kicked myself for being so curious, but damn, the guy was unusually hot.

“Told us he left the Amish when he was nineteen. Didn’t say exactly why, but I gathered it wasn’t exactly on good terms.”

“The Blood Rock community?”

“Yep.”

“Oh,” was all I could sputter out. Todd was turning out to be a lot more useful than I ever thought he’d be. If nothing else, I could talk to Daniel about the Amish ways.

I frowned remembering clearly how his alpha male personality hadn’t meshed well with me when he did my roof. Maybe Todd was right—the guy may not even be interested in talking to me. But, it was worth a try. I could put on the charm, when it was really needed.

“So what are we going to do for the next hour until quitting time?” Todd asked.