Danger In Amish Country. Marta Perry

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      “Nothing to be alarmed about, Eli,” the chief said easily, maybe aware of Daed’s tendency to be upset about the Englisch world intruding on their lives. “I thought you’d want to be up-to-date about what was going on.”

      “It’s kind of you,” Mamm said, a swift look at her husband reminding him to be hospitable. “You’ll have some coffee and maybe a piece of apple pie, ya?”

      “That sounds fine, Emma.” Chief O’Brian’s expression relaxed, something that was the usual result of Mamm’s warm friendliness.

      Sara gestured him to the sofa and took the rocking chair, waiting for him to begin and hoping it wouldn’t be questions about Caleb or Rachel.

      “Well, we identified the man who died,” he said, setting his cap on his knees. “His name was Jase Kovatch.”

      “Kovatch.” Daed pronounced the name carefully. “I can’t say as I know him.”

      “No, don’t suppose you would. The police did, and that’s not exactly a recommendation,” Chief O’Brian said.

      “He’d been in trouble, then?” Sara asked.

      The chief nodded. “Minor stuff, mostly. Drunk driving, petty pilfering. No family that we can find, and I can’t see as anyone’s going to miss him much except maybe some of his drinking buddies.”

      “That is a sad way to live.” Mamm set a mug of steaming coffee and a big wedge of apple pie topped with vanilla ice cream on the end table next to him.

      “Sure is.” Chief O’Brian took a bite of pie and spoke thickly around it. “I just can’t figure out what he was doing up on the ridge to begin with.”

      “Small-game season,” Daed said promptly. “Out after rabbits, maybe.”

      The chief shook his head. “No gun,” he said succinctly.

      Sara’s mind chased after reasons for the man to be out there and came up empty. This time of year, people went into the woods with shotguns, looking for small game. Bird-watchers and nature lovers were sensible enough not to wander through the woods during hunting season, especially not when deer season started next month. Then all the hunting cabins would be filled to bursting.

      She realized the room had fallen silent. Chief O’Brian was looking at her.

      “I can’t think of anything that would take the man up there,” she said, hoping she hadn’t missed a question.

      “You haven’t seen him around? Noticed anyone maybe taking an interest in the school, for instance?”

      “No.” She could only shake her head, perplexed. “Why?”

      O’Brian shrugged. “I went up top today, along with a couple of men. We didn’t find anything unexpected. But I noticed one thing about that place.” He paused, looking grave. “It has the best view a person could have of your schoolhouse.”

      His words sank in, and alarm ricocheted along Sara’s nerves. She didn’t need to look around the room to know that they were all thinking the same thing.

      Everyone wanted to believe that their corner of the world was safe. Unfortunately, danger was not limited to the back alleys of big cities. Even innocent schoolchildren weren’t safe from evil in the world.

      “Now, I don’t want you folks to get all upset about it,” Chief O’Brian said. “If this fellow... Well, he’s dead now. But I wouldn’t be doing my duty if I didn’t mention it, just in case.”

      Sara nodded. “Danki, Chief O’Brian. If I see anything out of the ordinary, I’ll let you know right away.”

      He seemed satisfied, turning back to his pie, but Sara couldn’t let go of it so easily.

      Tomorrow was the semiannual auction held to support the school, and every Amish person in the area, as well as plenty of Englisch, would be on the school grounds for the event. Including, she hoped, Caleb King. She had to confront him about what he hadn’t told Chief O’Brian. She must make him understand that if Rachel had seen anything, she had to speak.

      THREE

      “The playground certain sure looks different today, ain’t so?” Caleb tried to keep his voice cheerful as he and Rachel neared the auction on Saturday. Auctions were a common way of raising money for Amish schools, valued as much for their fellowship as for their fund-raising.

      Rachel clung a little tighter to his hand. “Ya,” she murmured.

      “We’ll bring something to Onkel Josiah when we leave, ya? Maybe a funnel cake or an apple dumpling.” Onkel Josiah had declined to come, since he was still hobbling around on crutches and fretting over his broken leg.

      Caleb’s voice sounded unnatural, even to himself, but maybe Rachel didn’t notice. At least she was staring, wide-eyed, at the tents and canopies that had sprung up overnight on the school grounds. Besides the auction going on inside the big tent, there were plenty of improvised stands selling food and drink, which seemed about as popular as the auction itself.

      A couple of Englisch teenagers passed them, and Rachel shrank against him. He put a hand protectively on her shoulder, a wave of dread washing over him. He’d been so sure this move would be good for his Rachel. Instead, it seemed to be having the opposite effect.

      Onkel Josiah’s offer had seemed a godsend. Caleb had been so eager to get Rachel away from the sad memories of her mother. But instead of making things better...

      The thought trailed off when he saw Teacher Sara coming toward them. She was holding the hand of a little girl who looked about Rachel’s age.

      Sara met his gaze and smiled, showing a dimple at the corner of her lips. With her rosy cheeks and those dancing green eyes, she looked hardly old enough to be a teacher, but he knew from Onkel Josiah that she was only a year or two younger than he was.

      She and the little girl came to a stop in front of them while he was still trying to decide if her hair was blond or brown or something in between. As if aware of his thoughts, she smoothed her hair back under her kapp with one hand.

      “Look, Becky, here’s Rachel. Now you’ll have someone just your age to walk around with.” Sara’s gaze met Caleb’s. “This is my niece, Becky, my brother’s girl. She’s been longing for another girl to walk around with, instead of her brothers.”

      He nodded to the child, who had a pert, lively face and hair a shade darker than Sara’s. Becky grinned at him and grabbed Rachel’s hand.

      “Komm, schnell, Rachel. Aunt Sara said she’d get me a treat but I must look at everything before I decide. You can help me.”

      Rachel clung to his hand a moment longer, but at an encouraging nod from her teacher, she let go. The two girls started off together.

      “Don’t get too far away from us, ya?” Sara cautioned.

      Becky nodded, already chattering away to Rachel about the relative merits of a funnel cake or an ice-cream cone.

      “Danki,” СКАЧАТЬ