Separate from the World (11 page)

Branden asked, “And what were you saying about two cousins?”

“Albert and Mattie?”

“You tell me, Willa.”

“Albert Erb is four years old, maybe four and a half now. He’s Israel’s kid. Mattie is five, and she’s Enos Erb’s kid. They’ve been playing together while all this split-up has been going on, so I figure they know better behavior than all the grown-ups do! Hah! How do you like that, Professor?”

Branden saluted her knowledge with a nod. “So, naturally, you know all about Albert and Mattie?”

“Naturally,” Willa said, and drank long from her can of beer.

“Can you tell me about it?” Branden asked. He took another sip.

“Little Albert Erb crosses the road when his mother’s not looking, and he waits in those woods we crossed through. Then his little cousin Mattie comes out of Enos’s house and meets him there. They play in my woods out back, almost every day. They’ve got themselves a couple of beagle puppies.”

“And they’re not supposed to do that?” Branden asked.

“Oh, no. Not at all, Professor. Israel is an Anti. He put a stop to those two playing together when Enos declared himself for the Moderns.”

“But you let them sneak over here?”

“What’s to let, Professor? They’re only four and five, and it’s a free country, last I checked.”

It didn’t make sense, Branden thought. Bishop Miller was Old Order Amish and extremely autocratic, but even the Schwartzentrubers would have talked to him, if he had showed up and knocked on their door. Amish people weren’t dug in like the Branch Davidians. They participated in society. They went to town markets. They stopped to talk with strangers. Israel should have come to the door. Enos should at least have turned around to speak with him.

But it had been the same at Israel’s farm as it was at Enos’s. These two families were barricaded in their houses, not even answering the door. And the store Israel ran? That was locked, contrary to Willa Banks’s intuition.

So the split in Andy Miller’s district wasn’t the crisis that had caused Enos to rebuff him on the porch. The new bishop wasn’t just telling his people to withdraw from the world. There was something else behind this silence.

Willa watched him think it through and said, “If you want to know what’s going on out here, you need to talk to some of the kids.”

Branden asked, “Are Mattie and Albert over here, now?”

Willa finished her beer, crushed it flat on the coffee table, and said, “Naw. They’re probably back home by now.”

The professor eased out of Willa’s disgusting chair and said, “Willa, can you show me? Show me where they play?”

 

 

They skirted the south edge of the strawberry patch and entered the woods on a little trail. The path was difficult to see, so Branden allowed Banks to lead and followed her deeper into the trees. As soon as they were out of sight of her trailer, they found a little shoe.

Farther down the winding trail they found a boy’s denim waistcoat. Willa gave it a puzzled look.

The trail crested a ridge and dropped at an angle down to a stream. There a knit skull cap was floating in a pool, and Branden charged ahead.

On the other side of the stream, the trail rose again, and halfway up the other side, Branden, leading by twenty yards now, found more boy’s clothes scattered on the ground, next to a tangle of black hair.

Near the hair lay battery-powered hair clippers, half buried in the leaves. Banks bent over to pick up the clippers, but Branden said, “No, Willa. Better leave that.”

And then they heard a muffled whimper.

On the other side of an oak tree the size of a house, he found a small Amish girl, bound and gagged. Fully clothed but dirty, she lay prone, struggling against her bindings. Her brow was streaked with blood, some of it having run into her eyes, and her hands were stained with a terrifying crimson.

When she saw Branden, the little girl froze her eyes on him and watched him fearfully as he knelt beside her. Though the panic in her eyes was apparent, the professor did not speak; her need was too urgent. Instead, he wiped the drying blood out of her eyes and worked to loosen the duct tape over her mouth. She fought him at first, but when she saw Willa Banks coming up the trail, she held herself motionless for the professor. Her eyes were locked on Branden, and they spoke terror.

Once Branden had her mouth free of the tape, she asked, “Am I safe now?” in a scarcely audible whisper.

Branden nodded and took a moment to smooth her hair with a gentle palm. He motioned for Banks to work her bindings free as he flipped his cell phone open.

Banks started fumbling at the girl’s bindings, muttering, “Mattie, Mattie. What have they done to you?”

Mattie popped her hands free as soon as Banks had her bindings loose. She threw her arms around Banks’s neck and clung to her as if Willa were her last hope to live.

Branden punched in Ellie Troyer-Niell’s number down at the jail and waited for the call to go through, all the while scanning the area visible to him for signs of Albert Erb. When Ellie picked up, Branden said urgently, “Ellie! Send help! We need an ambulance, Ellie. Behind the Willa Banks property on Nisley Road.”

Banks shouted out her address, and Branden asked, “Did you get that?”

In answer to Ellie’s questions, the professor said:

“Paramedics, Ellie. And a search team.”

“Right. Search dogs, too.”

“No, we need the whole crew. Ask Bruce to call in the night shift people.”

“A girl, Ellie—Mattie Erb. She’s been tied up in the woods.”

“She’s covered with blood. It’s her cousin Albert who’s missing. Maybe four years old. Taken off, I don’t know. He’s not here. Might be dead.”

“No, I think someone took him and tied Mattie up.”

“No.”

“His hair’s been cut off.”

“Clothes are off, too. No, Ellie. We’ve trampled the scene already.”

“Speed is our ally here.”

“No, just send me everything you’ve got. I’ll have Willa Banks out by the road to guide everybody back here.”

“What? No, I can’t tell. She’s conscious. I don’t see any cuts or wounds. If all this blood were hers, she’d be dead.”

MATTIE ERB trembled, with her eyes closed, and buried her bloody forehead against the professor’s neck. He held her with both arms and cradled the back of her head with his hand, waiting where he had found her for the paramedics. When he tried to pass her to the first paramedic to arrive, she clung to him as if he were life itself—her last, best hope to breathe. Gently he pulled her arms loose, and she started crying. So Willa Banks took her into her arms again and let the paramedics look the girl over while she held her.

Concerned for the parents, the professor took Mattie back from Willa, and said, “Can you get her parents, Willa?” and Banks started off through the woods, heading toward the back of Enos Erb’s house.

While they tended to Mattie, Branden started pacing off wider and wider circles among the trees. Twenty-five yards farther down the trail, he found a shiny mass of bloody entrails heaped on the ground. His stomach lurched, and he cried out.

One of the paramedics came up to him, saw the organs on the ground, and blurted out a curse. “I don’t think that’s human,” he said. “That can’t be human. It’s a dog or a pig, something like that. It’s got to be!”

“OK, look,” Branden said. “We’ve got to hope that this is some animal. That the boy has been kidnapped. If we assume he’s dead and he’s not, we’ll have lost what chance we have to find him.”

“Right,” the paramedic said and knelt beside the entrails.

Branden ran back down the trail toward Banks’s property and met Ricky Niell, who was just coming up to the edge of the trees. They stepped aside to let two more paramedics head up the trail to Mattie.

Off to the side, Branden explained, “I think someone has kidnapped Albert Erb, maybe killed him. He’s four. His clothes are back there on that trail. And his hair has been cut off. Something’s been gutted. There’s blood smeared over Mattie’s forehead. Somebody planned this.”

Niell asked, “Why in the woods?”

“These two kids have been sneaking into the woods here to play. They’re cousins.”

“So somebody knew that,” Ricky said. “Somebody knew they’d be here.”

Branden nodded. “I don’t think the families know that they’ve been coming here. It’s got to be a neighbor, maybe a relative. Nuts, Ricky, I can’t believe we’re thinking like this.”

“They’re neighbor kids?” Ricky asked.

“Right. Albert goes with the Israel Erbs on the other side of Nisley. Mattie is an Enos Erb kid, from right there on the other side of those trees.”

Niell saw two deputies approaching and he called out, “Roadblocks, Pat. A mile in each direction.”

Pat Lance turned her partner around, and they ran.

Branden said to Niell, “We’re gonna have to search the woods back here.”

Niell asked, “How about the homes?”

“Those, too. Israel’s, Enos’s, and all the neighbors.”

“This is going to take too much time,” Ricky complained.

“He shaved off Albert’s hair, Ricky,” Branden said. “And I think he must have brought other clothes for him. This was planned by someone who knew these kids. This guy knew these kids were gonna be right here.”

“It could be a she, or a couple,” Ricky offered.

“Not as likely. But cutting Albert’s hair should mean a disguise, as if he were intending to run with the child. Whoever did this thought it through ahead of time. If he’s still alive when we find him, Albert will be disguised.”

“Who knew they’d be here?” Ricky asked.

“Willa Banks, for one,” Branden said. “She headed off toward Enos Erb’s house right after we found Mattie.”

“Any Amish who knew they’d be here?”

Branden paused, thought about that, and shook his head. “There are two bishops feuding out here, but I think they’ve got everybody clamped down pretty tight. They’re all going to be accounted for. No Amish would have an opportunity to put this together.”

Chief Deputy Dan Wilsher approached the tree line and asked, “Roadblocks, Ricky?”

“Done,” Niell said.

“Have we got clothing from the boy?” Wilsher asked Branden.

“Clothing and hair, plus there are animal guts on the ground,” Branden answered. “Back on the trail. There’s a pair of clippers, too.”

Around the corner of Willa Banks’s big metal garage, two dog teams arrived with their handlers. Robertson was right behind them. He let the dog teams move through to the trail and then joined Niell, Branden, and Wilsher at the edge of the woods. “Where are the families?” he asked.

“It’s the two families on these farms,” Branden said. “One right next door and the other across the road. They’re all Erbs. I sent Willa Banks to get Enos Erb and his wife.”

Robertson flipped his phone open and dialed Ellie. “Dan Wilsher will organize a search,” he told her. “Send everybody to Willa Banks’s front yard.”

Wilsher ran toward the front, clumsy in his black leather loafers, but determined.

“Ricky’s gonna handle roadblocks,” the sheriff said into the phone. “Send every cruiser, Ellie. We’re gonna box this rat in.”

He switched off and said, “I want a noose around his neck, Niell. I want you to pull it so tight his eyes will pop.”

Ricky ran toward the road.

Robertson asked Branden, “Is there anything I need to see back there?”

“Once they bring Mattie out,” Branden said, “it’s just forensics. Let the dogs do their jobs.”

“Then you and I are on the families,” Robertson said.

There was a shout from the trail, and Branden and the sheriff stepped aside to let a paramedic carry Mattie Erb out of the woods. Her eyes were ranging left and right, as wide as saucers. Her forehead and hands had been cleaned up, but traces of blood still showed around her fingernails and eyebrows. In a voice as thin as paper and as tragic as abuse, she said, “I want my mommy.”

Robertson stepped forward instinctively, but one of the paramedics said, “We’ve got this, Sheriff.” The man carrying Mattie ran forward with her and laid her down on a gurney that was just being brought around from the front. Then Branden and Robertson fell in behind the paramedics and walked Mattie out to the road.

There was nothing more the two men could do for her. They watched the paramedics search Mattie for wounds and had to stand back to let it happen.

Dan Wilsher was organizing groups of deputies and firefighters on the front lawn of Willa Banks’s property. He had laid his suit jacket on the grass, and he was starting to sweat under the arms. Niell would be placing the roadblocks where they’d do the most good. The dogs were already in the woods, working the scent. All of this had been accomplished in less than an hour from the time Ellie had taken the professor’s first call. Robertson looked at Branden and asked, “What are we neglecting?”

Before he could answer, there was a crashing of leaves and branches behind the two men, at the tree line dividing the two properties, and when Branden and Robertson turned around, they saw little Enos Erb forcing his way through the tangles under the trees, shouting, “Stop! Stop! They’ll be killed!”

Then Enos saw Mattie in the back of the ambulance, and he buckled at the knees and fell over onto his hands with a strangled cry.

Branden ran to him, helped him up from the ground, and said, “Mattie’s OK.”

But Erb snatched desperately at his sleeve and said, “If you go after Albert, they’re gonna kill him.”

 

 

Vera Erb ran past Enos and the professor. At the back of the ambulance, she reached out for Mattie and caught her when she leapt into her arms. Branden turned back to the trees and saw all of Mattie’s brothers and sisters lined up, in denim vests and cotton dresses, watching silently as Vera kissed her daughter repeatedly, and chastised her, too. The little girl rubbed her fingers on her mother’s cheeks, trying to dry the tears, and she spoke Albert’s name time and again.