Authors: Vannetta Chapman
A
N HOUR LATER,
Shane had joined them in the back room and the sky outside had turned completely dark.
“I called your
Englisch
neighbors,” Callie reported. “They’ll get word to Jonas that you’re going to be a little late. Would you like more tea?”
Deborah shook her head and pushed away her mug. “
Danki,
Callie. But if you put any more tea in front of me, I’ll float away like Jonas’ bobbers when he’s fishing.”
“All right, ladies. This is the one lead we have, and I think it’s worth following.” Shane sat with his forearms propped on his knees. He’d rolled up his shirtsleeves thirty minutes ago, and he had the “Information Wanted” poster, crime scene pictures, and witness reports spread out across the table.
The pictures should have bothered Deborah, but they didn’t. They confirmed what she suspected. The girl was from Goshen. The dress patterns were identical.
“I wish I could say for certain who she is.” Faith shook her head. “There are so many young Amish girls, and I don’t see them as often as I did since our district has grown and split into smaller churches.”
“But you think she could be the daughter of this Mr. Lapp?”
“I’m fairly sure. There are a lot of Lapps in Goshen, but Timothy Lapp on Old Branch Road …” Faith’s voice faded away as she reached forward and picked up the picture of the girl in the pond. Finally she shook her head and dropped the photo on the table. “He’s a
gut
man, and this will break his heart. Timothy Lapp … well maybe you have men like him here, in Shipshewana. He has not changed at all. He doesn’t abide with the idea that
rumspringa
is a part of a child’s passage into adulthood.”
She took a last sip of her tea, which had long since grown cold, grimaced, and set the mug carefully down on the table, next to the girl’s photo. “There are no cars hidden in his barn, and his older children have no cell phones in their belongings that they charge when they go into town. At least if they did, they would never let their
dat
know about it. He follows the old ways.”
“We have families like that here too,” Deborah said gently. “They want what is best for their children, and they worry that any type of change is bad.”
“Exactly. Don’t misunderstand me. He loves his family. It’s only that he’s a bit strict.”
A dozen unanswered questions swirled in the air around them, made the room seem close and crowded. Deborah thought Shane would begin questioning Faith then, about whether the father might have killed the girl or at least caused her to flee her home, but instead he sat back and waited.
She’d watched him work for many years now, and his ways always surprised her. She had once thought it was because he was an
Englischer
, but tonight she thought it was because he had the instincts of a panther. Her father had once described watching a big, black cat on a far ridge, stalking its prey, not moving closer until it was sure of its attack. Shane was like that elusive animal.
Faith reached out and turned the photo, so she was looking again at the girl. “When his oldest
dochder
wanted to marry the Eby boy, Timothy agreed, but there was some scuttle about where
they would live. This was a little while back — before the marrying season. I’d say four or six weeks ago.”
Deborah noticed that though Shane was listening intently to every word that Faith said, occasionally he’d glance up at Callie, as if he were waiting for her to jump in and add something. The two seemed different tonight, as if something had changed between them. Deborah was going to have a talk with Callie about the men in her life. She was tired of guessing!
For her part, Callie was silently following the exchange as if it were one of the Agatha Christie novels she always had on the counter of the shop.
In the back of her mind, Deborah had to wonder if this would help Reuben’s case at all. What if it incriminated him further?
But she realized she needed to tamp down that fear.
The important thing at this moment was to find the girl’s family, to give them a last bit of peace.
“You know a lot about the family, given that you can’t positively identify the girl.” Shane spoke quietly, in a matter-of-fact tone.
“
Ya
. I suppose it seems that way.” Faith smiled sadly. “But even in Goshen where we have several districts there is a …”
She looked to Deborah and Callie for help, unable to find the expression she wanted.
“Grapevine?” Callie asked.
“
Ya
. Grapevine of sorts. It’s not so much that we gossip, as it is that we share one another’s burdens. The word in Goshen was that Timothy’s daughter had run away. At first with the boy, but then, a week ago, Samuel Eby came back. He said Katie stayed among the
Englischers.
We all believed she would return in time. Most Amish kids do. No one was really worried, and it hasn’t been that long.”
Everyone considered her words, even as they looked at the pictures the crime techs had shot of the body at the pond. Callie didn’t
reach for any of those though. She reached for a shot Trent had taken — one that did not appear in the
Gazette.
A shot of the girl before the medical examiner had pulled a sheet up and over her face.
The young girl looked almost as if she’d been sleeping, the skin of her face remarkably un-deteriorated — which was part of the evidence the lawyers had used against Reuben, stating the body had only been in the water a short time when Esther had found it.
“Whoever she was, you can tell she was a beautiful young lady.” Callie fingered the picture carefully, her voice full of the loss they all felt each time they considered the tragedy of such a young life cut short.
“
Ya
. It’s heartbreaking for sure,” Faith agreed. “And the cause of death was some sort of blow to the back of her head?”
Instead of answering her question, Shane looked down at his notes, flipped to a new page, and picked up his pen. He sat back in the chair and began drawing circles in the margin of the paper. “Wouldn’t Mr. Lapp have seen the notices we put out? The ones that stated we found a girl? We advertised in
The Budget
and all the local papers.”
Faith stared across the room a full minute before answering. “It’s possible he might have seen them, but then again, their farm is in a remote area. If I remember correctly, they don’t come into town often. He’s busy running the acreage, with only girls and not wanting to hire out the work when he doesn’t have to. The mother has her hands full raising all the girls.”
“But wouldn’t their bishop have brought it up?” Deborah asked. Her mind was spinning, wondering how it would feel to open a paper and see your child’s face staring back at you. Her stomach clenched, and she wished she’d had less of the tea.
“Of course the bishop would have spoken to them, if their
dochder
had been missing. But remember, they think the girl is with
freinden
.”
Everyone considered the possibilities.
Finally, Shane stood and began gathering up his photos and papers, touching Callie’s arm as he scooted by her. “There’s one way to know for certain. I’ll go down to Goshen tomorrow, show Mr. Lapp the pictures, see if he can identify the girl as his daughter.”
“I’ll go with you if that would help.” Faith stood as well. “It’s been a while since I’ve spoken with the Lapps, but I believe it would be
gut
to have a familiar face there.”
“I’ll go too,” Callie said.
“And so will I,” Deborah added.
Shane stopped and gave them his most serious officer-on-duty look. “That’s hardly necessary, ladies. I believe I can handle this alone.”
“If I know Timothy Lapp, and I do, things might go better if someone he knows is there when you first show up.” Faith didn’t look as though she would take no for an answer. “The man doesn’t have a temper, but he doesn’t take kindly to
Englischers.
He’s likely to ask you to leave his land and walk away.”
“Ask a police officer to leave?” Shane’s eyebrows rose.
Faith shrugged. “If he’s done nothing wrong — and I’m sure he hasn’t — then,
ya.
You’d never have a chance to show him your pictures, because he’d never listen to you in the first place. Timothy Lapp lives very strictly by the law, but as I said, he prefers to keep to himself. He won’t abide outsiders. It’s part of the reason no one was surprised when the girl ran away.”
Before Shane could respond to her reasoning, Deborah began gathering her things.
“I want to be there also,” Deborah said. “It matters to me, Shane. This might not help Reuben at all, but I’m sure he’d like to know that the girl’s family has peace at least. And I do still believe he’s innocent. If he has to suffer for a crime he didn’t commit, at least let me be able to tell him I was there and able to ease someone’s pain. At least let me be a part of closing this case.”
Shane shook his head, even as he continued gathering the papers and photos and picked up the worn leather work bag that held his investigation folders.
Deborah realized she hadn’t changed his mind at all. She hadn’t really expected to. Of course, she could hire a driver or she could possibly ride along with Faith’s driver, but she barely knew the woman.
“I’m the reason Faith is here.”
Callie’s statement was the one that stopped Shane cold. Deborah wasn’t sure if the look on his face was one of exasperation or admiration. She could not figure out the relationship between Shane and Callie. There was something going on between them, some energy in the air like before a big storm, but was it hostility or passion?
“What?” Shane asked.
“I’m the reason she’s here. When everyone told me that Ira Bontrager was babbling and I should ignore him, I didn’t.” Callie walked around the table, took the folder out of his hand, and opened it. She shuffled through the pictures as if they were a deck of cards, not stopping until she came to the one of the girl on the ambulance gurney. The one taken before the medical examiner had covered her face.
“Are you trying to say that I owe you?”
“No.” Her voice grew softer now. Max stood and walked between her and Shane. “I’m saying there’s something else at work here, and we shouldn’t ignore it. I tried to forget Ira’s ramblings, tried not to look for Faith, but the thought of her out there not knowing about her
dat
haunted me.”
Faith’s eyes met Deborah’s, and Deborah suddenly realized she did know this woman. She knew her because they shared a friend, and that counted for more than years or distance.
“If I hadn’t found Faith … if she hadn’t come here today … and if Deborah hadn’t stopped by before Faith was about to leave …”
Callie looked at the photo one last time, then snapped the folder shut and handed it to Shane, “I would never have told Faith about the intricacies of the case. It never would have occurred to me to tell her. There’s a reason we’re all involved in this, and we all need to go to Goshen tomorrow.”
Shane started to reach out and touch Callie’s face, but stopped himself when he realized they weren’t alone in the room. Instead he nodded slowly, then stuffed the folder in his bag. “All right, but you’re not a part of the investigation. Your role is completely unofficial. You can follow in your own car.”
“Fine. I’ll drive. Deborah and Faith can ride with me.”
“I’ll leave at seven.” Shane said, as he walked out the door, not bothering to say good-bye.
Deborah rode with Callie as she dropped Faith off at the bed and breakfast. Then Callie turned to take her home.
“Want to explain to me all those looks and touches between you and Shane?”
“We touched?” Callie’s voice squeaked, though Deborah couldn’t make out her expression in the darkness of the car.
“Nearly, several times. I’m your closest
freind
here in Shipshe — “
“You’re my closest friend anywhere.”
“And you don’t want to talk to me about being
in lieb
?”
A truck passed them, its headlights brightening the interior of their car for a moment, long enough for Deborah to see the confusion on Callie’s face.
“I don’t think I’m
in lieb.”
Deborah reached over and patted her hand. “But you like him, ya?”
“When I’m not angry with him.” Callie laughed, but it was uneasy, as if she wasn’t sure whether she should laugh or cry.
“I feel that way when I’m pregnant,” Deborah admitted. “Never knowing if I’m happy or sad. Jonas says it’s because the baby is pushing on my heart, causing my feelings to run together.”
“But I’m not pregnant!”
“I think it’s the same though.” When Callie didn’t add anything, Deborah confessed, “I had wondered if you had feelings for Andrew or even Trent.”
“That’s part of what confuses me.” Callie pulled into the Yoder’s lane. “Andrew is such a sweetheart. He’s very important to me.”
“And Trent?”
“At first — yes. But the more I know him, the more I think of him as a charming college kid who hasn’t grown up yet.”
Callie brought the car to a stop, and Deborah waited for the sound of the engine to die away. “I wouldn’t worry about it,” she said.
“Because God will show me?”
“Oh,
ya.
He will show you, but I was thinking that time has a way of sorting such things out. And there’s no rush.”
Deborah reached over with her left arm and hugged her friend tightly. Callie reminded her of her younger
schweschder
, which was really how she thought of her now: family.
Then Deborah stepped out into the night, hurrying up the steps toward Jonas, content in the knowledge that those years of uncertainty were behind them.
Deborah didn’t worry about Reuben at all that night. The hug she and Callie had shared before she walked up the front porch steps said it all. Deborah knew tomorrow wouldn’t decide Reuben’s fate — the Lord had control of that — but she felt certain, down to her very bones, that tomorrow was going to reveal an important piece of the puzzle that had begun when she’d stopped by Reuben’s pond to let Esther pick a bouquet of fall flowers.