Whispers from the Dead (Serenity's Plain Secrets Book 2) (5 page)

“Here, let me carry one of those boxes for you,” I offered Mareena.

She paused long enough for me to scoop the top two from the stack in her arms and then continued toward the doorway.

“Chores took longer than usual today, so we’re running late. Jotham likes to have the pies on the shelves earlier than this,” Mareena explained.

“And you slept past eight!” Lucinda added delightedly.

Mareena turned and frowned at her little sister. “I did not.”

Lucinda giggled and half covered her mouth in my direction. “Yes she did,” she whispered loudly.

I peeked into the corner of the top box that I carried and got a delicious whiff of baked apples, cinnamon and sugar.

“You made these, Mareena?”

“I helped,” Lucinda exclaimed at the same time that Mareena nodded her head.

Mareena looked over her shoulder and said, “Jotham pays me four dollars a pie. I try to bake six fresh ones every Thursday morning.”

As we stepped into the store, I couldn’t help but think that Mareena had a pretty lucrative side business going. Cacey ran ahead of us and I fought the impulse to call the child back as I took in the sights and sounds of what I could only describe as the Amish equivalent to a mall.

One side of the building was a bakery, deli, and restaurant, and the other was filled with shelves brimming with every kind of grocery item. There was even a stairway leading to an open second story that boasted an array of wooden furniture and a wall crammed with bolts of colorful fabrics.

“This is a little more than just a store, Mareena,” I commented, sniffing the wonderful smells of baking bread and frying chicken.

Mareena smiled proudly. “Have you ever had Amish cooking before?”

I caught sight of Cacey again as she darted around a cluster of Amish women who were chatting in front of a candle display. “I ate dinner at my community’s schoolhouse dinner a couple months ago.”

“Did you like it?” Lucinda looked up expectantly.

I smiled. “It was the best meal I think I’ve ever had.”

Both Mareena and Lucinda beamed at my words. The girls were not only very well behaved, but they were both more mature than ordinary kids their age. I was impressed with the work ethic that they exhibited while they were doing their chores, and also that Mareena had her own little pie baking business. When I was twelve, I was still playing with stuffed animals and my mother had to chase me around with a broom just to get me to make my bed. Even though those times were all in good fun, I still had been a relatively lazy child.

With growing admiration for the Amish children, I said, “How would you girls like to have lunch here? It’s my treat.”

“Oh, yes!” Lucinda nearly shouted.

Mareena was more reserved, but there was a twinkle in her eyes when she said, “Thank you. That would be nice.”

Every woman we passed by smiled and said hello in some fashion. Outwardly, the men ignored me for the most part, but I did catch a few of them glancing my way as we walked by. The same as the Blood Rock community, these men were careful not to show too much curiosity towards a new female. But they had definitely noticed me.

“Sorry we’re running a little late, Jotham. We had a busy morning,” Mareena rushed the words out.

Jotham was of medium height and would have been considered an attractive man, except that one entire side of his face was covered with leathery, red scarring. His hair line was receded with the scarring and he didn’t have any eyebrows or lashes on that side either. The eye that stared out from the mangled tissue was glass, but his other was a piercing light blue that drew my attention even more than his fake one. He was also holding Cacey in his arms and the little girl who hadn’t spoken a word after she’d gotten into the buggy was now chatting up a storm to him in her language. My initial appraisal of her as a shy child evaporated as I listened to her excited chatter to a man whose face would have scared most kids.

Jotham laughed heartily and said something to Cacey before he set her down on the floor. She squealed in delight and ran behind the counter where I watched her pick out a large, white iced donut from the display.

“Mareena and Lucinda, please take the pies to the table near the registers.” When the girls lingered, he added, “Mach schnell!”

I gave my boxes to Lucinda and stepped back while they hurried away toward the front of the building. I recognized Jotham’s intent to put the girls out of eavesdropping range and turned to the Amish man with pulsating curiosity.

He held out his hand. “I am Jotham Hochstetler. You must be the police officer.”

I grasped his hand and said, “Serenity Adams. Do I look that much like a cop to you?”

Jotham smiled with his ruined face and glanced away. His unmarred cheek had turned almost as red as the scarred side and I decided that I liked the man in that instant.

“No. You look nothing like a cop to me. But I am at an advantage. Rowan described you on his return from Blood Rock.”

I nodded. “Can we talk? I have a few questions for you.”

“Of course,” Jotham said. He guided me to the furthest table in the restaurant area, calling out orders to his employees on our way there. Even though I couldn’t understand exactly what he was saying, I got the gist. To say that he was very involved in the goings-on in his establishment was putting it mildly.

As we sat down at a table, I took a quick look out the window beside us. My gaze immediately landed on a group of Amish teenage boys who were hanging out next to a barn. Several of the teens were smoking and I turned back to Jotham and thumbed towards the group.

“Are they supposed to be smoking?”

Jotham glanced out the window and took a measured sigh. “It is not against our Ordnung for the young men to use cigarettes, but it is certainly not something that I personally condone.”

I was satisfied with his obvious distaste at seeing the youngsters smoking, but highly confused at the same time.

“I don’t recall ever seeing any of the Amish in Blood Rock smoking.”

Jotham shook his head vigorously and then held up his finger to me to wait while he spoke to the server who had suddenly appeared at the table. He addressed her as Mariah, and I forgot about the smoking boys for a moment to study her closely. She was definitely a pretty girl, the contrast between her pale skin and the small amount of dark hair that wasn’t covered by her cap made her almost striking. Mariah’s gray eyes darted nervously at me a couple of times before she graced Jotham with a tight smile and left us. Was this the same Mariah that the kids at the gas station had been talking about? I had the strong gut feeling that it was.

When Jotham returned his focus to me, I nodded my head towards the retreating girl and said, “She’s a beautiful girl.”

Jotham squirmed a little at my statement, but agreed, “Yes, she’s our bishop’s only child. She’s worked here at the store for the past few years.”

“Three years? She’s seems awfully young.”

Jotham shrugged dismissively, “I suppose Mariah’s sixteen or seventeen now.” He thought for a moment and then asked, “Do you understand what the Ordnung is?”

I nodded. “Yes, I do.”

“A Church’s Ordnung is very unique to it. Every community is different.” He motioned to the boys by the barn and said, “Here in Poplar Springs, the young ones usually begin working at a paying job when they are right out of school, about fourteen years old. The boys are also allowed to smoke when they are in their time of Rumspringa. I believe that Blood Rock doesn’t follow the practice.”

“You mean when the kids are allowed to go out into the world and decide if they want to remain Amish?”

“Eh, that is making it simple, but yes. Personally, I think Blood Rock has it right. There is a lot of corruption here for our young people…and I would say that our leniency has something to do with it.”

I turned my attention back to the Amish boys, watching them strut around outside as if they were puffed up roosters. The same as in the city, the warmer weather was already stirring up the teens. When I spotted Cody and Lyell walking up to the crowd, my eyes widened, and I thought, small world.

I glanced back at Jotham. He was sitting in the chair in a relaxed and confident way and I noted how friendly the Amish in Poplar Springs had been thus far. Compared to the Blood Rock Amish, this group had practically laid out a red carpet for me. But it also occurred to me that part of this community’s openness might be because of their looser set of rules and also the fact that the area seemed to be a mecca for tourists. Nearly every seat in the restaurant was taken by middle aged English folk. And by the look of their designer jackets and high dollar purses, they’d probably driven here from as far away as Chicago for an early weekend getaway.

These Amish had to do a balancing act between keeping their culture separate and making a living off the romantic ideals that their way of life inspired in the outside world. The difficult dynamic had probably played a part in the way Poplar Spring’s leaders were handling the arsons and the unidentified body. The last thing these people needed for their quaint and cozy image was a serial arsonist.

I looked back out the window at the intriguing sight of two of the teenagers who I had encountered at the gas station the night before, mingling with the Amish boys, and asked, “Are the Amish kids pretty rowdy around here?”

Jotham weighed his words carefully before he answered. “There are some serious problems among our young people that need to be addressed.”

I dove right in. “Like, setting barns on fire type of serious?”

Jotham’s good eye widened and he abruptly leaned in closer.

“Shhh, you must not say such a thing in a public place. Anyone could be listening.”

I took a moment to scan the restaurant. I wanted to make a show of it and when I was finished, I said, “There’s no one around us at the moment except tourists. Why are you so paranoid?”

Jotham lowered his voice and lifted his chin toward the table to our right. The couple sitting there was older, probably in their sixties, and dressed more casually than the other patrons. The man had a ragged beard and the woman’s gray hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail. I mentally kicked myself in the butt for not noticing them before.

“They both drive the Amish and are very much the eyes and ears of the community.” He paused and leaned back when Mariah returned with a tall glass of cola and a plate of food that she set in front of me. The sandwich appeared to be ham and Swiss and there was a pile of chips and a pickle spear on the side. I had to give the guy credit. He pegged my eating habits perfectly.

“Thank you,” I told Jotham. As Mariah was turning to leave, I reached out and lightly grasped her arm. She stopped and looked down at my hand as if it was a rattle snake and I quickly let go. “Hello, I’m Serenity. I believe that I met your mother earlier as I was coming up the road to the store.”

Mariah’s eyes narrowed a little and in a what-do-I-care sort of way before her face became expressionless again. She replied, “Oh, that’s nice,” and then she smiled slightly and hurried away.

It was an awkward moment for sure, but I got what I wanted from it. Mariah was definitely the girl that Brandy had gone to bat for. I would bet money on it. The terse brunette didn’t look at all like Naomi, but I still compared the two girls and wondered if Mariah had thoughts of running away from her roots, too.

“I apologize for that. Girls her age are moody and act funny sometimes.”

“Is she quite a handful?” I asked with forced casualness.

His long hesitation answered my question, but he said, “Not really. Mariah has her moments, the same as the other teenagers who work for me. I’m sure it’s difficult being the bishop’s daughter.” He paused and then changed the subject. “Your task here will not be an easy one, Ms. Adams. Many in our community don’t want to even ponder the thought that our own youth may be involved.”

“Please call me Serenity. Do you believe that the fires might have been set by Amish teens?”

Jotham shrugged and said, “I don’t really know, but I think it would be silly to overlook them completely.”

“All right, I’m going to need a list of names of interest from you. I’ve already created a timeline of the arsons, but I need a lot more clarification than the little information that I was able to piece together online.”

“I can do that…but not right now. I have to get back to work.” He began to rise, but before I could stop him to arrange our next meeting, he paused and abruptly sat back down again.

“How far back did you go when you did your research on the computer?” he asked.

The slow and precise way that he asked the question made me shudder.

“Rowan told me the first fire happened on October fifteenth of last year…so that’s where I began.” Reluctantly, I added, “Why?”

Jotham looked around for eavesdroppers once again and then leaned in even closer. The fact that he was risking such close contact with a woman who was basically a stranger to him impressed onto me the importance of what he was about to say.

“The very first fire in Poplar Springs took place in nineteen ninety-seven…” he sucked in a nervous breath and rushed out, “…and two people died.”

5

I
o
nly had a few seconds for his words to sink in before Rowan walked up to the table with his three daughters in tow.

“There you are!” exclaimed Lucinda, who quickly sat in the seat beside me.

“Hello, Jotham,” Rowan said, and then he tipped his black hat to me and added, “Serenity.”

“Good morning,” I chirped out, suddenly feeling slightly flustered.

Jotham stood and said to Rowan, “I have to get back to work…but I’d like to talk to Serenity in more detail later in the week.”

Rowan nodded, “Of course.”

Rowan motioned for Jotham to step away from the table and they began whispering. They were too far away for me to hear what they were saying, but I strained hard to listen nonetheless. The bombshell that Jotham had just dropped about a possible arson with deaths that happened almost two decades earlier was the same as throwing a cup of cold water in my face. The man wouldn’t even have mentioned it unless he personally thought that the crimes were connected in some way. I shook my head. Damn Amish. Nothing was ever simple with them.

Mareena took the other chair and Cacey climbed onto her lap. I waved down Mariah and asked her to get the children whatever they wanted. The girls cheerfully recited their orders to Mariah, who rewarded the girls with a bright smile and she even paused from her work for a moment to gossip with Mareena about a new family that had just moved to the community. Before she left the table, Mariah tilted her head to me and asked in an even tone, “Anything else for you?”

“No, I’m fine, thank you.”

Mariah hesitated, and for an instant I saw a flash of uncertainty in her eyes, but then it passed and her face was emotionless once again. I was still holding my breath when she walked away and I couldn’t help wondering what secrets the girl was hiding.

Rowan returned and took the seat beside Mareena and across from me.

“Jotham is an interesting fellow,” I said casually.

Rowan smiled. “He’s a good man. We’ve been friends for thirty years.”

I couldn’t keep the obvious question inside a moment longer and even though I already suspected the answer, I asked, “What happened to his face?”

It was Mareena who answered me. “Jotham was in the house with my mother when it exploded. She died, but he survived.”

The information was swirling around in my head so rapidly that I almost felt dizzy when Rowan added, “He was holding Cacey in his arms at the moment that the house went up and he shielded her against his body to protect her.”

I struggled to collect my thoughts. “Was it a gas leak?”

Rowan nodded and sagged back into the chair with a sigh. “At the time, I was working especially long hours, and even though I had smelled more gas in the air than usual, I ignored the nagging feeling in my gut and took my other children to the autumn horse sale in Michum County, thinking that I had time to check into it when I returned home.”

Mareena reached over and patted her father’s hand and said in a quiet voice, “It wasn’t your fault, Da.”

I felt a mixture of sadness for both Rowan and Jotham and also the biting suspicion that there was probably a lot more to the story than I was getting at the moment. Poplar Springs was definitely not the quaint Amish community that was being advertised to the tourists.

With the nagging question as to why Jotham was in the house with Rowan’s wife while Rowan was away at a horse sale banging loudly inside of my head, I said, “Jotham must be quite the hero around here then.”

Rowan’s eyes narrowed as he stared back at me. I wasn’t expecting that particular reaction, but figured that if I was going to find out what was going on around here, I’d have to push a few buttons along the way.

“Girls, get the sandwiches wrapped to go. You need to head back to the farm to begin your afternoon chores,” Rowan said.

“But we wanted to wait a while longer to see if Elayne and Rachel come by. We haven’t visited with them in some time,” Mareena said in a pleading voice.

“Be on your way. There will be other times for idle chatter,” Rowan ordered firmly.

I watched the emotions of anger and resentment pass quickly over Mareena’s face before she swallowed in defeat. “Up, up, Lucinda,” she commanded.

Lucinda turned to say goodbye to me and then she hurried away with Mareena who was tugging on Cacey’s hand.

I looked back at Rowan and snapped, “Don’t Amish kids ever get a break?”

Instead of my question upsetting him like I thought it would, he answered wearily, “I’ve explained this too many times to count to outsiders like you, but I guess one more time isn’t going to hurt me.”

“Go on,” I coaxed, knowing that nothing he could say would win me over.

“Our children grow up very differently than yours. They learn to work hard and take on responsibility at a young age, and it prepares them for our way of life as adults. My girls have it even tougher since they have no mother to guide them and they’ve taken over her responsibilities as well. But they do have some freedom.” As if he suddenly really wanted to convince me, he said with more conviction, “Just last week they spent an entire day sledding at one of the neighbors.”

I couldn’t help thinking about Naomi Beiler and how desperately she had wanted to escape the Amish. And she had ended up dying before she had even begun to live. Naomi’s story was very tragic, but I had to begrudgingly admit that a lot of the Amish kids seemed to accept their situations rather well, and maybe they even liked their existence. I guess I would just have to chalk it up to one of those things that I would probably never fully understand.

“They’re really sweet girls. You should be very proud of them,” I offered diplomatically. “I am.” He paused for a moment. His steady and weighing gaze made me sit up straighter before he spoke again, “Are you ready to begin the investigation?”

“Absolutely,” I assured him.

We rose from the table together, but when I gazed out the window one last time, I paused. Standing with the group of young men beside the barn was a couple of non-Amish men that I hadn’t noticed before. One wore black boots and a black leather jacket. His face was covered with a short, clipped beard and his hawkish features made him stand out distinctly among the Germanic looking youngsters gathered around him. The other put me in mind of a chameleon as he was dressed more casually, wearing blue jeans and a brown coat. He had thick, wavy brown hair that most guys would kill for and large, black aviator shades that hid most of his face. And, whereas the alert, Taliban looking guy stuck out like a duck in a hen house, Mr. Chameleon, who was leaning back against the barn wall as if he didn’t have a care in the world, blended into the group of youngsters in a very strange way.

My senses sharpened and my heart rate sped up. Something about those two men immediately put me on guard—but why?

“Serenity?” Rowan’s eyebrows were raised questioningly.

I picked up my small leather purse from the table and joined him. “Yep, I’m ready.”

The buggy ride with Rowan was quite a bit different than the ride I had earlier with his daughters. First of all, the previous buggy had been open and the rush of cold air had been exhilarating. This time, I was overwhelmed with the claustrophobic feeling of being closed into the tiny space of the traditional buggy. The rubbery scent of the vinyl seats was strong and I wrinkled my nose at it as I tried not to brush arms against Rowan who was unavoidably sitting very close beside me. I only thought Mareena had been flying with her little pony. The sheer power of the large black horse stretching out in front of us had me gripping the door tightly with my right hand and the thundering clip clops on the pavement made it impossible to be heard without shouting.

“Where are we going first?”

“Abner Fisher’s place. He’s our bishop and the last fire took his barn.”

“…and that’s where the body was found?” I verified.

“Yes,” was all Rowan said. He pretended to be completely focused on directing the horse, but I knew better. His occasional glances and extremely rigid appearance told me that he was as bothered by our close proximity as I was.

I liked having the man off balance and tried to use it to my advantage by plunging ahead.

“I read in the newspaper that the body belonged to a woman, estimated to be between twenty-five and forty years old. But as of two days ago, the coroner still hadn’t identified the body.” I paused to watch four Amish teenagers riding astride and trotting their spotted horses by in the opposite direction, and then continued, “Do you have any idea who it is?”

Rowan shook his head. “I haven’t got the slightest idea.”

He met my gaze steadily, making me feel that he was telling the truth. “So you aren’t missing any women from the community…”

Rowan interrupted, “Of course not. Why do you expect her to be Amish? I would assume that she’s English.”

“My experience has been that occasionally your people run off, and when that happens, everyone ignores that they’re even gone.”

“Honestly, if that were the case, and one of our women were missing, I’d say so.”

Rowan slowed the horse to a walk and just as quickly as we had surged forward, we were moving at a snail’s pace once again.

I loosened my hold on the door frame and relaxed a little. “And what about the two people that died in the barn fire in nineteen ninety-seven?”

Rowan sucked in a quick breath and snapped his head in my direction.

“Where did you hear about that?”

The level of agitation in his voice was obvious. I picked my words carefully, too perplexed to form an opinion about either Rowan or Jotham at the moment.

“Jotham told me…and he encouraged me to begin my investigation there.”

The smell of charred wood reached my nostrils just before Rowan turned the horse into a gravel driveway and I saw the wreckage of the building.

Even though fresh snow covered much of the top of the burnt pile of what used to be a barn, it was still obvious that the fire hadn’t been that long ago. The remains of the bright yellow scene tape could be seen poking out here and there among the clumps of snow. The deep, muddy grooves where a fire truck had been parked alongside the road were now filling with puddles from the melting snow.

Rowan seemed to have recovered from his surprise at what his friend had told me and said, “I don’t think there’s any connection at all between the fire that happened eighteen years ago and the recent rash of burnings.”

I gazed at Rowan, trying to get a read on his thoughts from his facial expressions, but coming up empty. Was he lying, trying to cover up some information that he didn’t want me to know about? It would be hard to tell with this man. He was the type that usually controlled his emotions easily, but I had already learned that even though the Amish might be pretty good at keeping up outer appearances, they sweated the same as everyone else.

I didn’t trust Jotham either, but he had thrown me a bone, so I would definitely follow up on it.

Pulling out my little notepad from my back pocket, I dismissed Rowan’s intense gaze and climbed out of the buggy. The afternoon sun was shining brightly, and I reached back into the buggy to retrieve the sunglasses from my purse.

I walked a few feet and stopped. The first thing that occurred to me was that the barn was situated very close to the roadway and Abner Fisher’s house sat several hundred feet up the driveway, partly obscured by patches of trees and another shed-like building. It would have been easy to pull up alongside the barn and slip in through a doorway if it had faced the road. Just as easily, someone could throw a cherry bomb into an open window while driving by.

The barn would have had “burn me” written all over it to an arsonist. But the body was another story altogether.

Rowan appeared by my side and I asked him, “Was there a doorway to this barn facing the road?”

“Yes, there was.”

“And windows?”

He nodded. “If I remember correctly, there were three on each side of the door.”

I quickly drew a stick image of what I imagined the barn to look like and showed it to Rowan.

“That’s pretty close, except the roof line wasn’t as steep.”

“Do you know what part of the barn the body was found in?” I asked, stepping closer to the rubble.

Rowan didn’t immediately answer and I stopped writing to look back at him. He shrugged and replied, “I don’t right know. I must admit, it never even occurred to me to wonder about exactly where the woman had been found.”

Not surprising at all. My prior experiences with witnesses as a cop in Indianapolis were usually the same. Most people didn’t fret about the details too much.

“I want to visit the fire chief and the sheriff’s department tomorrow. Are you up to that?”

“Of course I will accompany you if want me to.”

Rowan’s horse let out a high pitched whinny and I followed its alert gaze to see a buggy coming down the driveway toward us. Even at this distance, I was able to clearly make out Joanna Fisher sitting beside a slender, gray bearded man, who I guessed must be her husband, Abner.