Anathema (10 page)

“Have you been in touch with anyone since you left?”

“Just my aunt. I tried to call my cousin at work the other day, but he wasn’t in.”

“Why didn’t your aunt follow the ban? She still corresponds with you.”

“She’s a bit of a rebel.” Hannah laughed remembering her aunt’s small rebellions: curtains at the windows, a landscape picture or two in her bedroom, sending her son, Moe, to the public school. For some reason the bishop had always allowed her the small indiscretions.
Mamm
said he ’d been sweet on Aunt Nora once upon a time.

The car crested a hill, and in the valley ahead of them lay the old homestead. Hannah caught her breath, and her lungs constricted. The ten years hadn’t changed it. Luca had given the house a fresh coat of paint recently, and the white siding gleamed in the spring sunshine. The redbud trees along the pond bloomed with purple flowers.
Mamm
’s bed of jonquils had spread out to take over more of the side yard. Hannah could almost see her mother on the other side of the screen door, her white prayer cap bobbing and weaving as she kneaded bread.

Laundry flapped in the breeze from a line stretched by pulley from the house to the top of the barn. Two buggies were parked under a big walnut tree. She could imagine it was yesterday she was here last instead of ten years ago.

“Who inherited the property?”

“My cousin Luca and I. I’m not sure what he did about that. Likely just took over the farm and greenhouse and is waiting for me to show up someday.” Hannah knew Luca would never take it to the law to try to gain anything.

“Do you think he ’ll turn you away?”

“I don’t think so. He and his wife won’t be able to dine with me, though. I’ll have to eat alone.”

“If you haven’t been in touch with him, how do you know he’s married?”

Hannah drank in more of the sights before answering. The garden had been turned over and planted, but nothing grew yet. The greenhouse billowed with colorful flowers and leafy plants. She could smell the aroma of phlox from here. Horses grazed in the pasture, and she strained to see if Lucy was still there. Her soul leaped when she saw the appaloosa’s familiar spots.

She dragged her gaze from the familiar sights. “The small clothes on the line. The Amish cherish children and welcome any that God sends them. We don’t use birth control. If he’s married, he has children.” Hannah held the picture of the redheaded girl in her hand, and she studied it again. She longed to find the answer to this riddle today.

Hannah had no idea whom Luca had married. He’d once had his eye on her best friend, Sarah. The thought of facing Sarah as well as Luca made a sheen of perspiration break out on her forehead. She opened her mouth to tell Asia to drive on past, but it was too late. Asia was already pulling into the driveway behind one of the open black buggies.

“I thought buggies were enclosed,” Asia said. “The ones I’ve seen in northern Indiana even have lights on them.”

“My ancestors are Swiss Amish,” Hannah said, her gaze riveted on the screen door that offered a glimpse of movement. “Too much comfort is bad for the soul.” She leaned out the window. “They refused to use lights or warning signs until the state made them. They believe if they have an accident, it’s God’s will. It’s all part of
gelassenheit
. Calmness in the storm of whatever God brings.”

“There are the kids,” Asia said, gesturing toward a trampoline in the backyard.

Two towheaded children bounced on it, both girls, the strings on their bonnets flying in the breeze and their dark blue dresses fluttering around their calves. Hannah guessed their ages to be about five and six. The screen door opened, and a young woman stepped out onto the side porch. Hannah would have recognized those blue eyes and pink cheeks anywhere. Sarah could have been a poster child for a healthy farm girl raised on fresh dairy and vegetables.

She squinted at the car, then her gaze locked with Hannah’s. Her mouth dropped open, then closed. Those perfect pink cheeks paled. Her hand left the screen door, and she took the first step down.

“Hannah?” she said in a faltering voice. “It’s you, isn’t it?” She moved quickly down the remaining two steps into the yard.

Hannah put aside her quilt block, then thrust open the car door and got out. For the first time in years, she felt naked without her prayer bonnet. And the sleeves on her blouse were too short. Why hadn’t she taken more care with her clothing this morning? Her attention had been on the child’s picture, and she hadn’t thought about what her family would say. At least she wore a broomstick skirt that came down to the bottom of her calves.

“Hello, Sarah,” Hannah said. She made an awkward move to embrace her friend, but Sarah stepped back with an alarmed expression and a quick glance at her children.

“You are all right?” Sarah asked, her gaze going past Hannah to the car. “Where is your husband?”

How did she explain it? Sarah would never understand. “We ’re separated,” was all Hannah could manage.

Sarah’s already-wide eyes did a slow blink, and her mouth twisted into a frown. Asia got out of the other side of the car, and Sarah glanced at her. A formal smile froze on her face.

She wouldn’t be rude to a guest, Hannah knew. It might have been smarter than she realized to bring Asia. “Sarah, this is my, ah, good friend Asia Wang.” She’d nearly introduced Asia as her publicist. That wouldn’t have gone over well.

“Hello,” Sarah said in a forced tone. “Could I, um, get you some tea or coffee?”

The Amish prized hospitality. Since Asia wasn’t under the
Meidung
, she was welcomed, though Hannah was a pariah. The thought hurt.

“No, thank you. We stopped for coffee on the way,” Asia said. “Your kids are cute.”

Sarah’s distracted glance went to where the children still bounced on the trampoline. “Naomi and Sharon.” She looked back at Hannah. “Why are you here after all this time?”

Sarah wasn’t going to make it easy. Hannah would give anything for things to be the way they were ten years ago, before everything changed. “Is Luca home?”

“No, he ’s on a trip to Indianapolis to sell some plants. He won’t be back until next Monday night.” Sarah bit her lip and looked as though she was about to cry. “You should go, Hannah, before the bishop knows you’re here.”

“I need some answers first,” Hannah said. She might as well make this quick. There was no welcome for her here. She reached into the car and grabbed the picture of the little girl off the seat. “I wonder if you know this little girl. Maybe you’ve seen her around the area? The picture was taken just down the road.”

Sarah frowned, but she took the picture and stared at it. “She has the look of my Hannah. She could almost be your daughter.” She gave Hannah a quick glance. “Who is this child?”

“I’m not sure.” Hannah longed to pour out the story. Once upon a time, Sarah would have listened to every heartache, cried with Hannah over every painful moment. Now they were like two strangers.

Sarah handed back the picture. “I’ve never seen her.”

Hannah pressed for an answer she wanted to hear. “You’ve never seen her around? She’s standing by the covered bridge down the road.”

“She’s a stranger. What is this about?”

Before she could answer, the sound of an engine and tires on gravel made Hannah turn. The bubble lights atop a blue SUV made her stomach dip. A familiar set of wide shoulders exited the driver’s side of the vehicle. She had no trouble putting a name to the tanned face under the hat. The firm lips and piercing blue eyes sometimes haunted her nightmares.

Detective Matt Beitler. After living with Reece, she thought of him as Matt now, though her husband’s former partner still terrified her. She forced herself to stand her ground when those eyes that noticed everything looked her way. If she hadn’t been so frightened, she might have laughed at the way his nostrils flared like those of a dog at a fresh scent. His lids came down into a squint that told her he hadn’t forgotten her any more than she ’d been able to rid herself of memories of him. His gaze pinned her in place.

“Hannah Schwartz.” He drawled the words. “Where ’s O’Connor? He took my favorite gun when he vanished.”

She remembered the gun. Reece probably still had it. “I have no idea,” she said. “We ’ve been separated for five years.”

He raised his eyebrows at that, then shrugged. Another deputy got out of the passenger side, and Hannah caught a glimpse of a dog in the back of the SUV. She struggled to remember the dog’s name. Ajax. The other deputy was putting away his phone. He walked with a swagger that announced his importance. He probably was attractive to the ladies, with his young Elvis look.

Matt looked her over. “How long have you been back in town?” he asked.

“About ten minutes.”

“Where were you yesterday?”

She put out her hands, palms up. “What—I’m under suspicion already?”

His gaze sharpened. “How did you know we have another murder?”

“I—I didn’t,” she stammered. “I mean, you were acting suspicious of me. Isn’t there always some crime happening?”

“Not like this. And not in Parke County. This is Indiana, not Chicago.” His gaze dismissed her and went to Sarah. “Do you have a minute, Mrs. Schwartz?”

Sarah took a step back. “Luca isn’t here right now. He’s in Indianapolis. He won’t be back for another week.”

“I need to talk to you,” Matt said in a gentle voice.

When a man as hard and focused as Matt Beitler sounded sympathetic, something bad had happened. Hannah and Sarah exchanged frightened glances, and Sarah edged closer to Hannah. Hannah slipped her arm around Sarah, and her friend didn’t pull away this time.

“What’s wrong, Matt?” Hannah asked. She bit her lip when he frowned. Maybe he didn’t like her using his first name. Some people could be touchy about that.

“Maybe we’d better go inside.”

Hannah fought against the panic bubbling up. “Is it Luca?” She forced the words out past her tight throat.
Please, God, not Luca.

Surprise flickered across his face. “No, it’s not Luca,” he said.

Hannah and Sarah exhaled at the same time.

“Look, Deputy, can’t you see you’re scaring the women half to death?” Asia put in. “Just tell them what’s wrong.”

Matt pressed his lips together and directed his gaze at Sarah. “It’s Luca’s cousin, Mr. Honegger. Moe Honegger. We found him in a meadow on the other side of the county yesterday.”

Moe. Hannah could still imagine him yodeling as he milked the cows. She’d been hopeful Moe, if no one else, would listen to her when she came home.

“Moe?” A bead of perspiration dotted Sarah’s upper lip. “He was supposed to go with Luca until he got sick.”

“We know,” Matt said with a gentleness that was out of keeping with his sharp glance around the yard.

“What’s happened to Moe?” Sarah whispered.

“He was poisoned.”

Hannah would have fallen if she and Sarah hadn’t been clinging to each other. Poisoned. Just like her family. How could it be coincidence, right when Reece had found her again?

eight

“Amish Plain clothing promotes humility and separation.”

—HANNAH SCHWARTZ, ON
Good Morning America

A
chain-link fence barred Reece from the playground. He snapped a few pictures when he thought no one was looking. The kid looked just like Hannah. He’d been amazed and shocked the first time he saw her. And the plan had been born.

Settling on the bench by the street, he pretended to read the newspaper until the bell rang at two thirty. Kids began to pour from the school, escorted by the teachers who saw them off. Five minutes later, the kid said goodbye to her teacher and ran to a red Neon. Gina got out and opened the back door for her. The little girl climbed into the car, and the woman buckled her into the car seat.

By the time they drove away, Reece had jumped into his car. He followed them through Rockville and out US 36. His car weaved a bit as he jotted down the license plate number. He’d thought Gina would take the kid home like usual, but this wasn’t the right direction. The car turned north by Billie Creek Village and continued on down a gravel road. He let his car fall farther behind. The plume of dust would tell him which way to go without his staying close enough to call suspicion on himself.

The dust settled at a house and barn near Nyesville. As he idled past, Gina and the kid walked to the front door and disappeared inside. There was surely a chink in the armor somewhere, something that would prove the kid needed rescuing.

He pulled behind a tree and watched. A little while later Gina came out carrying a suitcase. She and the kid got in the car and drove off. He fell a ways behind them and followed them to Matt’s house. Was Gina moving in or something? That could complicate things.

But not so much he couldn’t handle it. He had to prove his love to his wife, show her how different things could be. He’d made a mistake five years ago, but it wasn’t too late to fix it. His grandmother had told him it was never too late to do the right thing. He could give Hannah the family she craved.

MATT’S KNEE ACHED from his old football injury as he walked slowly to his vehicle. Ajax trotted beside him and hopped into the backseat when he opened the door. The new case was going to ruin his day off. They had nothing. The guy had been poisoned with strychnine just like the victims a decade ago, but there were no prints, no clues. Just a body in the woods.

He had no idea what to do with himself tomorrow. Maybe take Caitlin out to see his grandmother. It had been nearly a month since he ’d gone by the old house. His mind would be too busy thinking about the new case to get anything productive done at home.

He called his sister at his house. “Hey, I’m just getting off work. You get Caitlin all right?”

“Of course. We ’re baking chocolate chip cookies. I stopped by home and got my stuff.”

“Does Blake know you’re moving in with me for a while?”

“I told him this morning. He didn’t even try to talk me out of it.” She ended on a muffled sob.