A Dark Amish Night (13 page)

  “Yeah, I know you men like to do that. I guess you look forward to that every week?”

   “It’s a chance for the men to get together and talk about menfolk things like livestock, barn building, and wood work, those kinds of things. So, yes, I guess I would say I look forward to it. Anything else, Sheriff?”

  Quinn noticed the dark lines of a tattoo showing on Peter’s wrist as he shoved his hat back on his head and got ready to leave.  “Is that a tattoo on your arm there? I thought Amish guys didn’t get tattoos?”

   Peter quickly covered his wrist with his other hand. “Yes, well, that’s a sin from being out in the English world. A sin I’d like to forget.”

   “Yeah, I heard something about that. Seems you left the community for some time and then came back a few years ago, right?”

   “It’s true. I did leave and I lived as an Englisher for six years. I lived a sinful life. Then I met Rachel and I wanted a family. I wasn’t going to raise my children in the English world. So Rachel and me came back here to start a family.” The baby in the buggy started to cry. “Sheriff, if you don’t have any more questions I really need to get my family home now.”

   “Yeah sure, go ahead and go, but if I have any more questions you’re gonna be in the town square on Thursday nights, right?”

   “Yah, I’ll be there.” Peter got into his buggy, and Quinn watched as he quickly headed off down the road.
Yeah I’ll be talking to you again, buddy.
Quinn knew a criminal prison tattoo when he saw one. Peter’s tattoo was a sure sign that he had done some serious time in prison. 
Let’s go pull your rap sheet, Peter Yoder.
Quinn turned to walk away and caught a glimpse of Hannah in a storefront window. She was standing at the counter in the mercantile and he wanted very much to join her.
Get a grip, Ramsey. Get a grip.
He chided himself as he headed back to the office. 

A Dark Amish Night

Chapter Eleven

     Hannah left the mercantile happy to be one step closer to opening the bakery. Pattie Sue gave her a tour of the storage room which was actually a whole other part of the mercantile. The space was huge, and Hannah was sure with some hard work and serious cleaning it would make the perfect bakery. As she walked back to the Bishop’s house, her head was swimming with new ideas for setting up her own business.

   The buggy ride to the rental house was short and uneventful. Hannah liked that it was close to the town square and the schoolhouse. The house was a small two bedroom bungalow with a large front cement porch. It was sparsely furnished, but the quality of the furnishings was definitely Amish. Hannah ran her hands over the smooth curve of the wood staircase and took a look at the bedrooms upstairs. The larger room had a double bed covered with a lovely handmade quilt. No doubt crafted by Mr. Fisher’s talented wife. This room would be perfect for her and Ruth Anne to share and the smaller room across the hall with the twin bed would work well for Timothy.

   Mr. Fisher and Bishop Miller waited at the bottom of the stairs as Hannah made her way back down.

    “Well, Hannah, what do you think?” Bishop Miller was smiling in a way that made him seem quite pleased with himself for finding this place.

   “Mr. Fisher, you have kept a fine house here and I would be so grateful to live here with my children. I would like to take it if you wouldn’t mind.”

   “No, I wouldn’t mind at all, Ms. Hershberger. We have strived to keep a plain folk place here. However, there is electricity running here for the stove, the refrigerator, and the washing machine. All those things are hard wired in. There’s a clothes line in the backyard for drying the clothes. This is a quiet neighborhood; you have mostly just retired plain folk here on this street.  Here are your keys, and we can take care of the necessary paperwork later. Me and Mrs. Fisher want you and the children to stay here as long as you need to. You needn’t worry about the rent. Least not until you feel you can pay it.”

   Hannah felt grateful and the truth was she was almost out of money. What she did have, she would need to feed her children with. “I’m in your debt Mr. Fisher and I’m grateful for your kindness to my family. Let us pray that I have all the money to pay you soon, and please thank Mrs. Fisher for me as well.”

  On the next Saturday, Hannah stood in her barn. Half the community showed up to help her get moved., which, she thought was really not necessary, as she would be leaving most of the larger pieces of furniture behind for Abe and Millie to use. She was glad that Abe and Millie would be staying on the farm. As she understood it, things were a bit crowded at Abe’s parent’s house. She pulled herself from her musings and started concentrating on the task at hand, selling her horse and buggy. It was the hardest thing to do. But she would not be able to keep a horse in town and that made the buggy useless, besides the money would come in handy.

   “Well, Ephram Stutz, what do you think of my fine horse and buggy?” 

   “Well, now she’s a handsome horse, to be sure, and the buggy is in well cared for shape. I reckon I could give you, say, three thousand.”

   “And I reckon I could take four thousand.” Hannah had watched her father and her husband haggle over horse prices her whole life. She knew how to play this game.

   “You drive a hard bargain, Mrs. Hershberger. I’ll give you the four and be happy to do it.” Generally this type of deal would end with a handshake between the two of them. But business deals were generally made between men. In her stead the Bishop shook Ephram’s hand for her.

   “Take good care of them both.” Hannah was very sorry to watch the horse and buggy go as Ephram led them out of the barn. She stifled her tears so the Bishop would not see her cry.

   “Ephram’s a good man, Hannah. He could use a wife.” The Bishop suggested and Hannah inwardly groaned. At the pained look on Hannah’s face the Bishop smiled. “When you’re ready you can think on that.

   “So, will you be selling Eric’s wood working tools?” The Bishop stood admiring the array of wood work hand tools on one side of the barn.”

   “No. they were given to Eric by his father. I’ll pack them and save them for Timothy.”

   Hannah pulled a sturdy wood box over to the side of the barn with the tools and started to pack them just as the lunch was called. The ladies in the community had set up a picnic in the yard.

   “Come, Hannah, let us take our break now.”

   “You go on, Bishop, I’ll catch up. You tell Martha to save a slice of her buttermilk pie for me though, please.”

   “I’ll do that for you. Don’t be too long.” The Bishop left Hannah and she was grateful to be alone with Eric’s things in a special place that had been his. She lightly traced her fingers over handles of tools that had been smoothed down with use by Eric’s own hands. She gently placed each tool into the box until everything was packed away and sat back on her heels. Thoughts of Eric overwhelmed her.

   
It’s so hard to let go, my husband. It feels like any second now, you’re going to walk through the door, pick me up and twirl me around like you used to. I will always miss you, Eric. I promise to do my best to raise our children well. But without you my life is so different. I have to stand on my own on these shifting sands. Everything I thought was forever changes now. I hope you forgive me for leaving the farm. I just cannot do it without you, and I am not willing to just replace you in order to keep this place. Forgive me.

  
A commotion outside the barn shook Hannah from her musing. The bright sunlight blinded her as she stepped out into the hot summer sun. Martha came to her side as Hannah shielded her eyes with her hand.

   “What’s the trouble, Martha?”

   “Well, it seems Timothy is missing. I don’t suppose he’s been with you in the barn?”

    “I’m fairly certain he isn’t in the barn.”

    “We’ve been searching for over an hour, and he’s nowhere to be found.”

     “Let me start looking for him then.” Hannah started calling out to her son. “Timothy, you’ve scared everyone enough it’s time to come out now.”

   Quinn was at home trying to do some housekeeping, anything to keep his mind off Hannah and her children. When he was with Kathleen the house was always neat and tidy, but on his own it was, well, not tidy.
Yeah, not tidy. That suits me.
Quinn shoved a load of dirty socks into the washing machine, tossed in some soap and turned it on. He made his bed, mopped the floors, and even took out the trash. He was contemplating throwing a steak on the grill when his dispatch radio came to life with static and then a report.

   “Attention all units, this is dispatch from Creek County Sheriff’s office. We have a report of a missing juvenile. At seven-o-five p.m. we received a call from the Hershberger Farm eight miles east of Heaven, Oklahoma. A ten-year-old male by the name of Timothy Hershberger went missing at approximately eleven a.m. this morning when he was last seen in the front yard of his home on the farm. Requesting all available units to respond.”

   Quinn threw on his uniform then grabbed his gun and hat. He was out the door before the dispatcher even finished her call. From his car he radioed back. “Dispatch, this is Sheriff Ramsey. I’m responding to that last call and I am presently in route to the Hershberger Farm.”

   He hit his lights and sirens and made it to the farm in record time. Jess was right behind him followed by Porter. The yard and the fields were filled with buggies and horses. Amish men and women were spread out all around the farm calling for Timothy. Quinn spotted Hannah on her front porch surrounded by several women all dressed in their Amish attire.

   Before Quinn made it to the porch Jess was at his side they were both met by a very tired looking Bishop Miller who shook Quinn’s hand.

   “Thank you for coming so quickly, Sheriff. We’ve been looking for the boy all day. We fear he’s gone into the woods, and the thick brush is making it very difficult for us to get through. Mrs. Hershberger has exhausted herself calling out for him.”

   “Who saw Timothy last?” Quinn was not in a friendly mood and did not have time to make any small talk.

   “I believe that was my wife, Martha. Let me get her for you.”

  “Fine. Jess, get a statement from Mrs. Miller and be quick about it.”

   Quinn pushed his way through the gaggle of plain folk gathered around Hannah. He did not take notice of who he bumped into or shoved, he just wanted them out of the way. Hannah was red-eyed with tears flowing freely down her cheeks. Quinn, not caring who saw them, wiped the tears from Hannah’s eyes.

   “I knew you would come. You’re a good friend, Quinn.”

   “I will always come when you need me, Hannah.” Quinn’s voice was barely a whisper.

   The women gathered in tighter around Hannah as if to protect her from Quinn. He was an Englisher, an outsider, and even if he was the Sheriff he was too close to Hannah for their comfort. Quinn lost what little cool he had.

   “I want every last one of you off this porch. NOW! I need to question the boy’s mother and I don’t have time for interference. A boy’s life is at stake so please do as I ask. Anyone who knows anything needs to meet with my deputies and give them as much information as you can.”

   The porch cleared quickly. Deference was given to Quinn’s authority as the law. Hannah was sitting in a rocking chair. Her face was ghostly pale.

   “They took my boy, Quinn. I’m so afraid the men who killed Eric have taken my boy.”

   “We don’t know that, Hannah. Let’s just focus on searching the woods and all around the house right now. As I recall Timothy has a penchant for running off and hiding. But just in case, I need to ask you some questions. Tell me who all has been here today. I want to talk to anyone who may have talked to Timothy. Are the Yoders here?”

   “I think so. They were here earlier. Why?”

   “I just want to keep track of everyone and I’ll have to start with people I know. Listen, I’m going to get everybody who can help look for Timothy organized into a search party. I’ll be back to talk to you shortly. Hannah, I will find him. I give you my word I will find your boy.”

   “I know you will, Quinn, just like I knew you would come.” Hannah grabbed Quinn’s hand and squeezed it hard in an effort to reassure them both.

   Over the next hour, Quinn got reports from his deputies on what Timothy had been wearing and who had seen him last. One little girl reported she saw Timothy heading towards the woods and she pointed out where he had been in the field.  Timothy had not spoken to anyone about where he was going. Every man present who could search had been assembled into groups to search out different areas.  Quinn called into the closest county for back up and equipment. It was getting dark fast. He would need flashlights and gear for everyone. Then he stood on the porch steps to address the group.

   “Okay folks, I want every man to have a flashlight and any tools or gear they may need for cutting through the brush. Every person needs to stick with their teams. Each team has a hand held radio so we can all stay in touch. We don’t need any one else getting lost or hurt. I would like for the ladies to stay close to the house and to keep looking for any sign of Timothy. Any children with you need to stay inside the house. I have a K-9 search team in route. We also have medics standing by in case Timothy is hurt. If you find him and he’s injured please do not try to move him. Call out on the radios and let help come to you. The front yard here will be our base, and Porter is going to man the radios and supplies while he keeps track of each team’s position and where we have searched. We have extra water and food here, so don’t get dehydrated or hungry.” Just as Quinn finished speaking, the K-9 search and rescue team arrived.

   “Okay everyone, check your equipment and head out to your assigned areas.”

   Quinn met with the officers of the K-9 unit at a table that had been set up in the yard. There were maps of the area that had been brought in spread across the table. While he was talking to them, Bishop Miller came up to speak to him.

   “I wonder, Sheriff, if you would let me pray over everyone before they head out, and to pray for Timothy, wherever he is.”

   “Of course, Bishop, we can use all the prayers we can get right now.”

   “Thank you, and when you get a minute, would you please go and speak with the boy’s mother. She is asking for you and I think it would be a comfort for her to be able to talk to you.”

   “Yeah, tell her I’ll be there in just a minute.”

   Quinn turned back to the maps and the men gathered there. “The boy was last seen in this area here, and this wooded area that you can see across the fields stretches up northwards for at least twenty miles. It’s mostly solid brush land with a few dirt roads winding around up in there. Willow Creek runs right through the center of it. The creek will be dry with the drought so it’ll mostly be just dry bedrock.”

  One of the men with the dogs spoke up. “Take us to the spot he was last seen. And do you have an article of clothing the boy may have worn recently?”

   “Yes, let me go get that for you and then I’ll walk you to the spot.” Quinn walked back up to the porch where Hannah was setting in the rocking chair. Ruth Anne was curled up in her lap fast asleep.

   “How are you holding up, Hannah?” Quinn knelt beside her and looked up into her lovely face that was now fraught with fear and worry. He wanted to take all that from her. If he could just pull her into his arms and run away with her right now, he would do it and never look back.

   “I’m much better with you here. Tell me what is happening.”

   “Well, the Bishop just prayed over all of us and the search teams are spreading out to start looking. I’m grateful you Amish people come in great numbers.” Quinn gave Hannah a weak smile to reassure her.

   “So you think Timothy’s lost in the woods?”

   “Yes, I think he wandered off and got lost. We’re going to find him. Have no doubt in your mind about that. I need an item of clothing that Timothy has worn recently for the dogs to get his scent. Where can I get that?”