Authors: Vannetta Chapman
But what struck Callie, what she knew would follow her into her dreams that night and for many nights to come, were the woman’s eyes. Dark semicircles rimmed the bottoms, reminding her of the football players she once watched on television. And when Rachel Lapp looked up, when she finally sought her husband’s eyes, Callie saw such agony and distress, such complete and naked grief, that she feared the woman’s heart was literally breaking in two.
D
EBORAH WAS STILL HOLDING
on to Mr. Lapp’s arm when Mrs. Lapp hurled herself into the room.
The woman grabbed a photo off the table and began wailing. Though Deborah had seen death several times, and even been with families when they’d learned of the death of a loved one, she’d never witnessed this type of scene before. She looked to Shane for any indication of what to do, but his eyes were again focused on the doorway.
At that moment a boy came crashing through the office door. Nearly six feet tall, with blond hair, he was wearing suspenders and traditional Amish clothing.
Deborah barely had time to notice those things before he snatched a photo of Katie off the table and began shouting. “Where did you get these? Who are you? Why did you come here? You can’t come in here. You can’t come in here with your photographs.”
“Samuel — “ Timothy tried to stand, tried to reach out to the boy, but he froze when his wife crumpled to the floor.
“Rachel? Rachel, are you all right?” Stumbling around the table, Timothy grasped her hand.
But Rachel didn’t answer or respond in any way.
“Lay her down. I think she’s fainted.” Callie rushed the few feet to the woman’s side. “Mrs. Lapp, can you hear me?”
“What can I do?” Shane asked.
“Help me lay her back on the floor and find me something to place under her legs.” Callie loosened the top pin of Rachel’s dress to make sure her airway wasn’t restricted. “We need to give her plenty of room.”
“She’s had a few dizzy spells before,” Timothy said, “but nothing like this.”
“Does she have low blood sugar?” Callie asked.
“I’m not sure. She just sits down and they pass.”
Shane pushed chairs and boxes out of the way to give Callie space to work, then knelt down closer to her and whispered, “Do you know what you’re doing?”
“I’ve had basic CPR, but no more.” Callie glanced at Deborah. “I would think you’d know what to do.”
“Me? We Amish are usually calm in situations like this. I’m not accustomed to hysteria.”
“It’s going to be all right, Rachel.” Mr. Lapp knelt on the other side of his wife, still grasping her hand as if he could lend her his strength.
“She’s breathing fine, Mr. Lapp. Probably the shock caused her blood pressure to drop.” Callie had her hand on Rachel’s wrist and was counting her heartbeats. “Her pulse is strong. If we could get her some water for when she comes around — “
“I usually bring some with me, but today …” He looked around in confusion. “We’ll have to go back to the house.”
“I’ll fetch some,” Faith said, then turned and rushed from the room.
Deborah knelt beside Callie, who was still monitoring the woman’s pulse. “You have your cell phone, don’t you, Callie?”
“In the car.”
“I have mine.” Shane pulled his from his pocket and checked it. “No service. I’ll go after yours.”
Shane jumped up and headed out of the room.
“Shane.” Deborah hurried to meet him at the door. “There was something wrong with that boy.”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know.”
They both looked out into the main section of the barn. There was no sign of the boy now.
Deborah reached out and put both hands on Shane’s arm and looked into his dark eyes — eyes that had once frightened her as much as the storm and the situation in this room. But she and Shane had been through much together. Her mind flashed back on the night she’d climbed down the trellis outside Callie’s bedroom window, the night she thought she’d die. Though she couldn’t say why, something told her this moment was every bit as critical.
“I don’t know what I mean, but be careful. Watch for him.”
Shane nodded once, squeezed her hand, and headed out into the rain, nearly running into Faith as he did.
“I have the water, but the children became frightened when their
mamm
rushed out. I’m going back to the house to stay with them.”
“Thank you, Faith.” Deborah took the thermos of water from Faith and carried it to Callie, who was still kneeling beside Rachel. Rachel was beginning to stir.
“I have some water here, Mrs. Lapp. Can you take a small sip?” Callie asked.
“My daughter, my
dochder
, my sweet girl.” Rachel Lapp was openly weeping again, but her color had improved.
Deborah pulled a handkerchief out of her pocket and placed it gently into her hands.
“She’s with the Lord now, Rachel.” Timothy swiped at his eyes. “At least we know she’s with the Lord. We can stop worrying. Finally we can stop worrying.”
“Oh, Timothy.” A wail escaped from the woman’s throat, and she threw her arms around her husband’s neck.
After a few moments, Timothy pulled away from his wife, making space for Deborah and Callie to continue their ministrations.
Deborah met Callie’s gaze. When Callie nodded slightly, they both helped her into a seated position.
“Try to stay calm, Mrs. Lapp. You have other
bopplin
,
ya
?” Deborah kept her voice low, soothing, as she closed her eyes and forced herself to picture the quilt that lay upon her and Jonas’ bed. The pattern was blue on white and one of her favorites. It was simple and peaceful.
“
Ya
, I do. I have six children. My Katie was the oldest.”
“And we’ll miss her terribly. We have missed her since the day she left.” Timothy wiped at the tears running down his face. “But now we know, and we believe she is with the Lord. She’s resting now, Rachel. It hurts, and we’ll miss her, but she’s resting.”
The two clung to each other, rocking back and forth, Rachel still sobbing and Timothy rubbing her back in small circles, as one would a child.
Callie motioned to Deborah from just outside the door.
“Where’s Shane? He should be back by now.” Fear mixed with worry in Callie’s stomach, brushing up against her insides like a hundred swarming bees. She wondered if this morning would ever end. She wondered when they could all go back to Shipshe, back to what now seemed like a nice, safe life.
“Shane said he was going to fetch your phone to call for an ambulance and more officers.” Deborah glanced at the office. “Are you still worried about Rachel?”
Crossing her arms tightly around her middle, Callie peeked back into the office. “A little. Her color is better, but I don’t have
any real medical training. It bothers me that she’s been having dizzy spells and hasn’t seen a doctor. What I don’t want is another emergency on our hands. This family has been through enough.”
“
Ya
, you’re right.”
Callie uncrossed her arms and began fiddling with the buttons on her raincoat. “Maybe Shane had problems finding my phone or finding service.”
“I’m more concerned about the boy,” Deborah admitted.
“The boy?”
“Large, blond-haired, stormed into the room and grabbed a picture off the table — “
“That was hardly a boy.”
“He was grown, I’ll grant you that. Probably eighteen or so, but I could tell by his manners … he was still a boy. And there was something else about him I didn’t like.”
“What do you mean? What else?”
“I don’t know, Callie. Did you not get a
gut
look at his face?”
“No, I was watching Mr. Lapp, worried he might keel over or grow angry and start chucking things at someone. Then Mrs. Lapp crumpled to the floor, and I forgot all about the kid. Why?”
“Something wasn’t right with him. Something—” But before Deborah could finish her thought, they heard a sound Callie had once described to Deborah. A sound Callie had heard when Max was hurt. The sound of a gun going off.
Callie’s heart slammed into her rib cage with the echo. Her legs turned to jelly, and she wondered if Mrs. Lapp’s condition was contagious.
Deborah grabbed her hand. “Callie, was that a gun? Who — “
“Shane’s out there … and that boy you’re so worried about …” Callie sputtered.
Deborah clasped both of Callie’s hands in her own. “Look at me. I’ll go and check on Shane, but you need to stay here with Mrs. Lapp.”
“What? Why should I stay here?”
“I don’t know how to help her. I don’t know anything about fainting spells.”
“I’m not a doctor. I only sold medicines to doctors. You can stay with her as easily as I can.”
“One of us should go and check on Shane. Someone has a gun out there.”
“A gun. Listen to yourself, Deborah.”
They both turned and stared out the partially open barn door. Rain continued to pour from the sky.
“
Ya
. I’m listening, but maybe Shane needs help.” Deborah put both of her hands on Callie’s face. “He helped us before. Remember? He risked his life for us. I can’t leave him out there for a crazed boy to kill. Now go in and stay with the Lapps. Be sure that Rachel doesn’t have another attack.”
“No, Deborah. You should stay here. You have children.” Callie felt wetness on her face and wondered if the roof had begun to leak, if the heavens were intent on dropping enough water to soak them all, to wash every bit of filth and sin from each one of them.
She wondered if Shane was lying bleeding in the storm that continued to pelt down on them, and once again she felt as if a giant fist were squeezing her heart.
“God will protect me, Callie.” Deborah kissed Callie’s cheek and shoved her back into the workroom before slamming the door shut.
Callie stared at the couple, still on the floor.
Mr. Lapp had heard the gunshot.
She was sure of it. The way he looked at her and the dread in his eyes confirmed it. But he clung to his wife, and his eyes once again strayed to the pictures still on the table.
Callie walked over to Shane’s folder, scooped the pictures up, and placed them inside. Then she closed the folder and placed the Bible that was sitting on Mr. Lapp’s desk on top of it.
When she looked back at Timothy, his eyes were shut and his lips were moving, but she couldn’t make out what he was saying.
She looked around the office and found a blanket and brought it over to cover Mrs. Lapp, who was lying down again, curled in a ball, as if to ward off any additional tragedy.
Her husband still had his arm wrapped around her.
Mrs. Lapp seemed incoherent as her breathing evened out and her weeping turned into a stream of silent tears.
Another minute passed before Mr. Lapp reached over and put Callie’s hand on top of his wife’s. “Stay with her. No matter what happens or what you hear, promise me you’ll stay with my wife.”
“You don’t have to go out there. Shane is trained to handle these situations.”
“But I know Samuel. I understand better than anyone the burdens that are troubling his heart and clouding his judgment.”
Callie tried to swallow past the lump in her throat. “It might be dangerous.”
“
Ya
, I know. Life is dangerous at times. My Katie found that out. But I need to talk to the boy.” Timothy kissed his wife on the forehead so gently it reminded Callie of the way Ira had placed his hand on top of Faith’s head.
It reminded her of Melinda holding Hannah.
Her heart ached with how much tenderness and pain life held.
Timothy Lapp stood, adjusted his suspenders, and muttered as he walked out the door, “One death is enough. Whatever this is — it stops today.”
And then he was gone, leaving Callie on the floor with Rachel and her fears.
D
EBORAH RAN FIRST TO THE HOUSE,
ran to check on Faith.
“We’re fine. What’s going on out there?” Five heads popped out from behind Faith, all girls. Best as Deborah could tell, they varied in age from three to twelve — all equally young and vulnerable.
“Can we talk alone?”
“
Ya.
”
Faith convinced the girls to fetch paper and crayons to distract them.
After Deborah explained what had happened and what she’d heard, Faith glanced back into the room where the girls were sitting at the table. “I’ll stay with them. You’re sure their
mamm
’s all right?”
“She seemed better when I left. Callie’s still with her, and Shane was to have called the emergency medical people. I don’t know whether he reached Callie’s phone though.”
“I never heard or saw him.” Faith peered past her, through the pouring rain, at the two cars parked between the house and the barn.
It occurred to Deborah there might as well be a giant red X painted on the top of the automobile, and suddenly she was
grateful it was a car and not her buggy hitched to her mare, Cinnamon. At least this way, if the boy started shooting, he’d only hurt a machine.
“Callie’s purse is sitting on the front seat. I could run and — “
“No!” Deborah reached out an arm to stop her as Faith stepped forward. “I know I heard a gunshot, but I don’t know what direction it came from or who was doing the shooting.”
Faith stepped back, sighed, and worried her hand over the front of her dress. “I was hoping that was thunder, but it sounded to me as if it came from the direction of the silos.”
“I’m going over there now to make sure Shane wasn’t hurt.”
“You? Why you? Shouldn’t you stay here with me?”
Deborah shook her head. “One of us should go, and you’ve done enough already — bringing us out here. Stay with the
kinner.
I’ll be careful.” She hugged her new friend once, then turned and fled back out into the storm.
Deborah spied Shane crouched down behind a feeding trough. His back to the barn, the roof overhang provided a little protection, but she could see even as she ran toward him how thoroughly soaked and miserable he was.
His shirt was plastered to his shoulders, and his hair, which he wore a bit on the long side, stuck to his forehead and neck. Water dripped down his face, but he didn’t bother wiping it away. Instead his eyes stayed trained in front of him, barely flicking her direction.
She could also see the gun he had pulled out and rested against the top of the trough.
“Go back inside, Deborah.” Shane still didn’t bother to look at her, as she crouched beside him. Instead he continued to scan the tops of the buildings surrounding the barn — the house, the silos, the outbuildings, even the trees.
“No.”
“I don’t have time for this.” He briefly turned toward her, his eyes searching hers. “Think of what Jonas would want you to do.”
“He’d want me to help that boy.”
“That boy is shooting at us.”
“Amish use hunting rifles, perhaps fitted with a long-range scope for deer hunting. You’d already be dead if he wanted to hit you, Shane.”
Shane shook his head once, sending water droplets in every direction, then he turned back to scanning the buildings. “I realize that, but he’s already made several mistakes, and I don’t want you — or myself — to be the next one. Now go back inside and stay beneath the roof overhang as you go.”
“Why do you think he shot at us?”
“He saw me heading toward the cars. Spooked him I guess. Kids — they react more than they think, which is why I hate calls involving teenagers. Give me anything else, but don’t give me a teenager with a weapon.”
“If he’s guilty of something, why didn’t he just run?” Deborah shivered as water splattered down her back and thunder rolled across the skies. “Why fire the weapon and give away that he’s still here?”
“Same reason he’s shooting at an officer. Same reason he’d lie about talking to a girl who has been dead for two weeks. There is no explaining what a teen backed into a corner will do.”
Deborah didn’t bother answering that. She didn’t have an answer any more than Shane did.
“You’re going to catch pneumonia, and Jonas is going to kick my
Englisch
backside all the way into the next county. Now I appreciate the conversation, and thanks for checking on me, but I want you to go inside and get dry — “
At that moment the door to the barn opened once again and Timothy Lapp stepped outside. He didn’t pause for the rain, didn’t act as if he noticed it.
Instead he walked out into the middle of the clearing, his shoulders bowed as if he were carrying a weight heavier than
five sacks of feed. When he reached the middle, he turned back toward the barn area, straightened his shoulders, and cupped his hands around his mouth, making a megaphone of sorts.
“Samuel, I want you to come inside. Come back, son.”
Deborah wondered at the use of the last word. It was the last piece of the puzzle that clicked into place for her.
Timothy considered Samuel his son, the boy he’d never had.
The look on the boy’s face when he stormed into Timothy’s office suddenly made sense — it was the look of agony wrapped in guilt.
It was the look of a child who’d taken away the most precious thing a father has: his
dochder.
“Samuel killed her.” Deborah grabbed Shane’s arm, digging her short nails into the skin beneath his shirt.
“Deborah, we’ve been through this. I don’t know what’s going on with the boy, but I do know all the evidence points to Reuben’s guilt. I don’t want to believe it any more than you do.”
“No. You don’t. And maybe the evidence doesn’t prove what you think it does. All you know is that Reuben knew Katie.”
“He cleaned up the blood in the house. He hid the rags.”
Deborah hesitated, not having heard this part before, then pushed on. “You know that Reuben spoke with her and she stayed in his old house for a few days. You don’t know that he killed her. I’m telling you, Reuben couldn’t kill anyone.”
“Deborah …” Shane finally wiped at the rain running down his face, careful to hold his gun steady with his other hand.
“Look at Timothy and stop staring at me that way. Timothy knows it too. Samuel did it.”
“You haven’t seen all our evidence, Deborah.”
“And I don’t need to.”
“Evidence doesn’t lie.” Though his voice wavered, he continued to scan the barn’s rooftop.
“All right. It doesn’t lie, but perhaps he’s only guilty of something else.”
“Don’t think I haven’t considered that. He could be covering for the boy. Could be covering for someone other than the boy. But as long as the evidence we have points to Reuben, then Reuben stands trial.”
“And Samuel?”
“Samuel’s coming in as well. Samuel’s going to explain what’s going on.”
Samuel looked down from his perch near the top of the barn. He looked down and thought that he would fall, though not from the height. He’d been walking Timothy’s barns and silos for over a year.
No, the reason Samuel was sure he’d slip and fall was because of the scene below him.
When Katie had first died, when he’d first killed her — time to admit to what had happened — he’d thought he could make it up to Timothy and Rachel. He’d come back, created the story of Katie going to the city, even lied about the phone call, because he couldn’t bear the pain in their eyes, and then he’d worked harder than he’d ever worked in his life.
Samuel had set out to be the son that Timothy never had.
Looking down at Katie’s father now, he knew it would never be enough. The man standing in the middle of the clearing was broken.
Timothy could never forgive him for what had happened.
So how could Samuel end this?
Scanning left, he looked over at the
Englisch
cop and Amish woman. He nearly rolled his eyes. They looked like two ducks in a barrel at the county fair. Shooting them would be easy.
But then he’d have two more deaths to answer for when he faced God, and Samuel knew he would face God — perhaps sooner rather than later.
So what were his options?
The photos of Katie played through his mind, making it hard to think clearly. She hadn’t looked like that when he’d carried her to the flowers she’d loved so much, intending to leave her there, but even that last act of love hadn’t gone as he’d intended. The blood from her head wound had soaked through the quilt, soaked on to his sleeve and he’d set her down, suddenly frightened by her still form. Then he couldn’t force himself to pick her up again.
A big strong man — afraid of a dead girl. Afraid of his wife.
So he’d dragged her on the quilt, dragged her the final distance through the flowers.
And when he’d reached the banks of the pond, it had occurred to him that perhaps she wouldn’t rest there, perhaps some wild animals would come and find her. So he’d cried — sat and wept like a little child — before rolling her into the water and praying that at least there she would be safe until someone found her.
She had still looked like his Katie then, floating face down in the early morning sun.
He’d gathered the quilt and run into the woods, hoping Reuben would find the body and think of a way to give her a proper burial. He couldn’t stay and do it. If he’d stayed, Reuben would have to hide him or turn him in, and Reuben didn’t deserve that type of trouble.
He hid knowing no one would ever suspect Reuben. He was a well-respected man in the Shipshewana community — Samuel had been able to tell that from his short time there. Plus Reuben had never so much as touched Katie. The
Englisch
police would simply meet a dead end and let things be. The responsible thing for Samuel to do was go back to Timothy and Rachel. He had to find a way to make things right for their family.
But nothing had worked out the way it was supposed to.
His hand began to shake on the rifle’s stock, and he gripped it more firmly. Wouldn’t do to drop it. Not now.
He could make his way down, and he could run.
Samuel knew he could disappear into the
Englisch
world.
But suddenly he was tired, too tired.
“Samuel, whatever happened we can talk about it. Come back inside.” Even across the distance between them, Samuel could make out the tears mixing with rain streaming down Timothy’s face.
He’d caused this family enough pain.
He shifted the rifle to his back, adjusted the strap, then began to make his way down and toward the ladder of the tallest silo. Once there, he began to climb.