Whispers from the Dead (Serenity's Plain Secrets Book 2) (11 page)

15

W
e passed Mariah on the bishop’s driveway and a shiver of anticipation ran up my spine. The sour look that darkened the girl’s face when she saw me confirmed that there was definitely something going on with her.

I parked on the other side of the club cab pick-up and glanced over at Mariah, watching her ignore our arrival, as she leaned into the truck and chatted with a young English man. Her brazen behavior confused me. An Amish girl who was also the daughter of the bishop wasn’t supposed to be so openly conversing with a guy, especially not an outsider.

I raised a questioning brow to Daniel who only shrugged. He looked about as surprised as I was.

“You heard Rowan last night. This community is a little more laid back than Blood Rock,” Daniel offered.

I snorted. “My guess is that this girl gets away with a lot more than any of the other kids do.”

“Why, because she’s the bishop’s daughter?” Daniel asked.

“That, along with the fact that she’s an only child, and a beautiful girl to boot.”

“I bet you always got what you wanted growing up, too,” Daniel said with a mild smirk.

“This isn’t about me…but no, I didn’t,” I said forcefully.

It was a good time to get out of the car, before I really got mad at Daniel. When I walked over to greet Mariah, I didn’t miss the stiffening of her posture or her exhale of breath.

Mariah offered me a plastic smile and said, “My mother is in the house waiting for you.”

I couldn’t help bristling at the girl’s rude tone. “Well, hello to you too.”

Mariah rolled her eyes ever so slightly and she completely lost the fake smile. She began to open her mouth to speak, but her companion interrupted her. “You must be the Blood Rock sheriff everyone’s talking about.” He reached out of the cab and I shook his hand. “I’m Damon Gentry.”

I had already taken in the guy’s fair hair, bright blue eyes and all-American good looks. He was in his mid-twenties making me automatically assume that he was a little too old for Mariah, but not by everybody’s standards.

“Are you any relation to Sheriff Brody Gentry?” I asked.

Damon smiled with embarrassment and shrugged a little. “He’s my grandpa.”

I exchanged glances with Daniel and saw the spark of curiosity in his brown eyes. I thought quickly and nodded towards Daniel and said, “This is Daniel Bachman. He grew up Amish, but left when he was nineteen. He’s helping with the case.”

As I spoke, I watched Mariah’s face intently and was relieved when my suspicions were confirmed by her sudden change of posture. She relaxed and gazed up at Daniel with great interest. The girl definitely wanted out.

In a hushed voice, she asked Daniel excitedly, “You used to be Amish?”

“Yes, I did.”

“Do you miss it?” Mariah rushed out.

Daniel paused with a long breath and then said, “Sure, sometimes I do. But to be honest, I’ve moved on and am happy.”

The way Mariah was gazing at Daniel with a look of total admiration and envy was almost jolting.

“You’re so lucky,” Mariah whispered.

Daniel leaned a little away from Mariah and said in a low voice, “Whoa, you don’t mean that.”

Mariah’s lips thinned into a grim line and her blue eyes darkened. She thought for a moment and then suddenly giggled. “Of course not, I was just joking.”

Like hell she was joking. But the girl’s face was a mask of emotions once again.

I turned to Damon and said, “Was Ashton Gentry your brother?”

My question caused a heavier chill to ascend than the winter wind already carried. Mariah’s single eyebrow raised, and Damon’s white face made me regret asking the obvious question. But I had just wanted to be sure before I drew any conclusions. The pair’s relationship was still unknown to me and even though I was pretty good at picking up on other people’s attraction to one another, these two were coming up blank in that department for me.

“Yes…why do you ask?” Damon said slowly.

I didn’t answer him, instead, asking a question of my own. “You must have been about five or six when the fire happened that took his life.”

“I was seven, and I still distinctly remember the barn in flames and the line of fire trucks parked bumper to bumper in the driveway.” Damon’s face flushed with color as he spoke. The young man obviously carried the same bitterness that his grandfather did.

I decided to take a chance. “Do you have any idea who set the fire, Damon?”

Damon laughed. The sound was so abrupt and unexpected that I glanced up at Daniel to for his reaction. But he only stared at Damon with quiet intensity.

“Believe me, if I knew who did it, they’d be dead by now,” Damon said with steely sureness.

“He doesn’t mean it. He’s just angry, is all,
Sheriff
,” Mariah stressed my title for Damon’s benefit.

“Sure, I do,” Damon growled with benevolence.

“Damon, you had best be heading over to the Lapp’s place. Margaret wanted you to take her and the boys to the store this afternoon.” Joanna’s voice startled me, but I noticed her reproving tone.

“Yes, Ma’am,” Damon said sweetly before turning to me and saying, “Later, Sheriff.”

I nodded and stepped back. Damn. I was on to something here.

“Mariah, that cow still needs milking,” Joanna told her daughter firmly.

“Sorry, Damon was telling me all about how he saw Hope and Sarah out by the road talking to those English boys again.”

Joanna eyed her daughter silently for a moment, before she said in the cool and collected voice of a very pissed off mother. “You know that I don’t like you gossiping with that young man.”

“But...I thought that you’d want…” Mariah stuttered.

Joanna placed her hand out to silence her daughter. “I will not have it. Do you understand me?”

Mariah took a breath and looked away. “Yes, Momma.”

“Get on with your chores,” Joanna ordered.

Mariah hurried away without a backward glance.

In a blink of an eye, Joanna was honey sweet once again. “Come on in. It’s mighty cold out here.”

Daniel and I mirrored each other’s quizzical expressions as we followed Joanna into the warmth of her kitchen just as the first, puffy snowflakes began falling.

“Do either of you want a cup of tea or coffee?” Joanna asked.

“Coffee would be wonderful,” Daniel replied.

“I’m good,” I added, sweeping my gaze around the kitchen.

I joined Daniel at the table and sat beside him. There was an open Bible in front of me and I couldn’t help craning my neck to take a closer look. The page said, Psalm 7, Prayer and Praise for Deliverance from Enemies.

My curiosity was suddenly heightened. Just as my finger touched the leather bound book to inch it closer, Joanna said, “Are you a believer, Serenity?”

The Amish woman set a cup of coffee in front of Daniel and took the seat across from us. The laser sharp focus that I had seen on her face the day before abruptly returned.

“Ah, well, kind of,” I stumbled, “I mean I believe in God, just not necessarily all the stories that come along with the Bible.”

“Stories?” Joanna smiled kindly, making me feel as if I was a small, naughty child who needed a stern lecture. I glimpsed Daniel wiping a smile away with his hand. Now he seemed to be waiting anxiously for the conversation to continue.

“Why, the Bible is truth, not stories. It’s the Word of our Lord Jesus and His Heavenly Father.” Joanna lightly shook her head as she continued, “I am always pained to meet an unbeliever—because I know in my heart what you’re missing.”

Her consolatory tone made my skin crawl and my blood pressure rise. I was respectful and held in the snort that threatened to escape my lips, and said, “I’ve always found the Bible fascinating, though.” Losing all inhibitions, I picked up the book and began reading, “like this for example.
If I have repaid evil to him who was at peace with me, Or have plundered my enemy without cause, Let the enemy pursue me and overtake me; Yes, let him trample my life to the earth, And lay my honor in the dust.
What exactly does it mean?”

Joanna’s face darkened for an instant. It was as if a storm cloud had suddenly closed in around her. But she quickly regained her composure and said, “God forgives those who sin. Sometimes it takes a while for judgment to be rendered, but no one escapes evil deeds without retribution of some kind.”

I couldn’t help glaring at the woman. It was the same religious zeal that I had dealt with in Blood Rock, all over again. Bishop Esch and his followers justified having Tony Manning, the town’s former sheriff, punch me and hold a gun to my head when they thought it served some ordained purpose.

Daniel cleared his throat and saved me from getting into a philosophical battle with Joanna by quickly changing the subject.

“Is Damon Gentry a driver for the Amish around here?”

Joanna turned her attention on Daniel. “He’s been driving in the community for a few years. He’s a nice young man. I really wouldn’t take his vengeful words from earlier seriously.”

“Threatening to kill someone in front of a sheriff is serious business,” I countered.

“Of course it is,” Joanna agreed wholeheartedly, “but since he isn’t targeting a specific person, they are just frivolous words.”

Something about Joanna Fisher reminded me soundly of Aaron Esch, and I took a deep breath at the realization. She wouldn’t be the easy nut to crack that I had originally guessed she’d be.

“Maybe he suspects someone?” I offered.

Joanna shifted in her seat uncomfortably. “He was only a boy at the time. I don’t believe he knows anything.” She paused and forced a smile. “But aren’t you here to discuss the recent fires and not one that happened nearly twenty years ago?”

Joanna was smooth, very smooth. But I did have other questions for her, so I went with the flow and asked, “Do you know anyone who would want to do your family personal harm, Mrs. Fisher?”

“Joanna, please call me Joanna.” She thought quickly and replied, “No one that I can think of. We get along quite well with all of our English neighbors and Abner teaches at the schoolhouse, so he doesn’t do business with outsiders.”

It was curious how she had automatically assumed any threat would come from the outside.

Daniel must have picked up on my exact thoughts. He asked, “What about anyone in the community, maybe one of the more rebellious kids?”

Joanna’s eyes widened to saucer size. “Are you insinuating that one of our own is doing these burnings?”

Daniel shrugged, “Just a thought.”

“I have no worries whatsoever that our young ones are involved with the fires,” she said angrily and then faced me. “That is exactly what Sheriff Gentry suggested and he refused to look any further than our own homes. Are you going to do the same thing, Serenity?”

The heat in her voice was genuine. Joanna Fisher might be a little over-the-top religious by my standards, but it was obvious that she was a good woman, and extremely worried about what was going on in her community.

“I have no intention of eliminating
any
potential perpetrators. I swear to you that,” I promised Joanna.

Joanna nodded in relief, “I’m glad to hear that. I really am. This bad business is beginning to keep the tourists away,” her eyes were desperate, “and that’s a good portion of many of our family’s livelihoods. And then who knows who will be next—maybe the schoolhouse or one of the barns with livestock in it. This has to stop.”

“I’m doing my best, Joanna.” I stood up. “But it certainly wouldn’t hurt for you to keep on praying we catch a break in the case. Because, trust me, we’re going to need one.”

Joanna came quickly around the table and hugged me. Her sudden movement caught me off guard and I could only stand rigidly while she squeezed me tightly. Daniel looked amused.

“Thank you for coming to our aid. The Lord is with you—I can sense it.” She pulled back to meet my gaze and said, “You and Daniel are welcome to our Sunday service tomorrow morning. We normally don’t allow Englishers to attend our Church, but we’ll make an exception in this case. It will also give you both the opportunity to meet the other elders in our community.”

Inwardly, I was very pleased with the invitation and the access that I was being given to the entire Poplar Springs Amish community, but I kept my face steady when I said, “We’ll be there.”

My boots crunched on the thin layer of fresh snow already coating the ground as Daniel and I walked to my car. The snowflakes were coming down heavier now, and the entire countryside was becoming obscured in a dull, gray haze.

I lifted my face, enjoying the shiver that the wet flakes striking my face caused, and said, “That was weird.”

Daniel grinned. “It always is.”

We reached the car and I was about to reply when Mariah appeared out of the gloom and touched my arm. I turned around and immediately recognized the expression of a person wanting desperately to share some kind of news.

“I’m sorry about the way I acted earlier.” She shrugged. “I didn’t know what to expect…and I didn’t trust you.”

“And you suddenly do now?” I couldn’t keep the sarcasm from my voice.

Mariah stepped closer and I watched the snowflakes gathering on her black coat as she spoke. “Please don’t say anything to Momma, but I was listening to you talk in the kitchen.” She must have seen my confusion, because she quickly added, “You see, the window is always cracked a little to cool down the room when the wood stove is cranked up.”

“That’s convenient for you,” I smiled. Mariah’s changeable personalities were annoying, but I had to give the girl credit for bravery.

“I wanted to make sure that you weren’t like Sheriff Brody before I talked to you.”

“I understand. Go on,” I urged.

“There are things going on with the Amish here…things that the sheriff, the elders…even my parents, don’t want to believe or concern themselves with. But it’s serious, Miss Serenity, you have got to listen to me.”

The urgency in her voice added to my own well-hidden feeling of panic.

“Why don’t we get in the car? It will be easier for us to talk inside,” I suggested.