A Perfect Square (17 page)

He pulled in a deep breath, rubbed Max’s ears when the dog leaned against him. “But days stretched into weeks, and finally I accepted no one was going to be bringing Beth home.”

“And you never had a funeral?”

He shook his head. “Sharon won’t hear of it. She can’t bear to hear Bethany’s name spoken, but she keeps a little box of things for her, just in case. I know it’s not right — that something in my wife was broken by those storms, but I don’t know what to do. So I keep farming best I can. Helps to have my son, Caleb, around the place. Have you met my son, Caleb?”

“Yes. I met him the other day.”

Ira stood, shuffled over to the wheelbarrow and pushed it out of the stall.

Callie gathered Max and his leash and hurried to catch up with Ira.

“But after all these years, what makes you think Bethany’s still alive, and that I can find her? Any number of things could have happened to her since then. Why look for her now after all this time?”

Ira’s constant drift between the past and the present wasn’t lost on Callie. She understood he was struggling with dementia and knew that condition was influencing what he remembered as well as how he perceived things.

When he turned to answer her though, his eyes were as clear and cognizant as Shane’s — though why Callie thought of him at that moment she had no idea.

“Why you?” Ira drew himself up straight. “Because you’re the only one who will listen to an old man’s ramblings. Why now?
Because my heart tells me now is the time. Because I have a pain that won’t stop hurting, won’t stop until I see her again.”

As he turned and walked out of the barn, Callie realized whether she wanted to or not, she was about to start searching for one Bethany Bontrager, lost since 1965.

R
EUBEN HAD HEARD THAT PRISON
was immensely tedious, that the hours stretched endlessly on, and that men cracked and spilled their secrets for no other reason than to be relieved of the boredom.

So far he’d yet to have an uninterrupted day.

“Lawyer’s here to see you, Mr. Fisher.” The pip-squeak of a girl who announced this did not look like she could be old enough to be out of the
Englisch
school system.

Reuben thought about arguing with her, then decided it wasn’t worth his effort. Easier to see Adalyn Landt then send her on her way. Probably quicker too. He rose from his bunk, allowed the young officer to cuff his hands, and walked down to the room set aside for attorney-prisoner meetings.

This was a different place than where he’d met Tobias. Smaller — nearly the size of Reuben’s cell, it was also quieter, and no one else was in the room with them.

Reuben looked up at the camera mounted in the corner of the ceiling as he walked through the doorway.

“They’ll record our images, but they can’t listen to what we say.”

Reuben shifted his feet uncomfortably.

“I understand you don’t like being photographed, Reuben, but
by now you know that you’re being monitored constantly. It’s one of those rights you lost when you became a resident of Shipshewana Municipal Jail, and it will be worse when they transfer you to the county jail next Monday.”

“Is that what I’m paying you for now? To bring me
gut
news?”

“Your family is paying me to craft a defense.” Adalyn placed a large leather bag on the table between them. This one was a light tan color, and Reuben found himself wondering how many bags Adalyn owned. “Something we need to start working on today.”

Reuben sat in the chair across from her as she took out a tablet and pen.

She looked up to find him staring at her bag.

“Twelve hundred dollars. That’s what this one cost. Is that what you were wondering?”

“That’s a disgusting display of materialism, even for an
Englischer
.”

“Do you think so, Reuben?” Adalyn sat heavily on the chair, and the look that crossed her face reminded him again of his mother. It occurred to him that he should be careful angering this one. She looked as if she’d fought her share of battles.

“It’s not your place to be judging me though. Is it?” She twirled the pen once, twice, then three times. “I don’t usually justify my purchases to my clients, but in this case perhaps it will help us to move forward. The reason that I buy Louis Vuitton …” She tapped the
LV
monogram on the front of the bag. “The reason is because I appreciate the highest quality in craftsmanship. Louis lived in France in the eighteen hundreds. He became an apprentice to a
layetier.
Are you familiar with that word?”

“
Ya
. It means one who makes luggage or trunks.”

“By hand. Louis Vuitton crafted his merchandise by hand and sold it in small boutiques, and Louis Vuitton merchandise is still made by hand today. That quality makes this brand one of the most valuable in the world.”

Adalyn again set her pen into a spin. She watched it as silence filled the room, then her hand came down and stopped it midspin. “In my job sometimes I have to go lower than I’d like, get a bit dirtier than I’d prefer. Sometimes I have to hear things I’d rather not hear and look at things that I’d rather not see …” Her hand went to the bag, brushed the logo. “It helps to know that quality does matter, and that hard work is rewarded. Though of course this is just a bag, and you’re correct — twelve hundred dollars is a ridiculous price.”

She smiled and picked up her pen.

Reuben realized with a rush of emotion that he and this middle-aged, overweight, commercially minded
Englisch
woman had something in common after all. Though looking at them you couldn’t find two more different individuals, they both appreciated doing things right.

And isn’t that what had landed him here? His thoughts went again to the letter he’d received from Emma, to the promise he’d made her, and how it had somehow led him to be in this place. How many from the community would even remember Emma? Yet it seemed God had brought her back into his life for a reason.

“The one thing I wanted was to be a
gut
farmer. Not just
gut
, but one of the best.”

Reuben stared down at his hands, hands that he now knew were capable of both good and bad. “I suppose you’d think it was for the profit it would bring, but money is only useful to a point. The land was a burden to my parents. They’d grown too old to farm it. Folks like to think Amish people work until they step into their graves, but it isn’t true. No, they step aside and hand it to the next generation. My folks moved in with my
schweschder
and the place that had been farmed by my
grossdaddi
passed to me — to me and Tobias.”

Adalyn had taken a few notes. She stopped now and looked him in the eye. “When was the last time you saw the girl?”

Reuben shook his head, stared down at his hands.

“Why was she staying in the house?”

He clenched his teeth together.

“How long had you known her? Who made the tracks in the woods?” She waited, then added, “They know it wasn’t you. The shoe size is different. Black is going to claim you had an accomplice.”

When Reuben didn’t answer, Adalyn set the pen down, perpendicular to the pad. “Reuben, the judge will require you to answer these questions. Not Monday. Monday is when the prosecution will prove the murder charges are valid. They’ll present what evidence they have and possibly call witnesses.”

Reuben looked up then.

“From what Tobias and Esther have told me, I suspect they’ll call Gavin. He seems to be the one person to have seen you in the girl’s company. But it’s possible that someone else saw you as well. I am not allowed to call witnesses. The reason I’m asking you these questions is that I’d like to start building our argument to those charges.”

Reuben shook his head, finally cleared his throat, and said, “I can’t tell you anything about that girl.”

“Can’t or won’t?” Adalyn waited one, then two minutes.

When he didn’t answer, she cleared her throat, pulled out a picture, and set it on the table. It was of Katie’s duffel bag. He had been wondering what had happened to it. Why take a dead girl’s clothes? When he’d gone back into the house, all he’d found was the cell phone.

“Someone brought it into the police station in Middlebury. How did this bag end up in Middlebury? They know it belonged to the girl. It has her prints on it. I suspect it has your prints on it too. But you didn’t take it to Middlebury, since you were already incarcerated. So the person you’re covering for took it there. Why would he do that? And when did you handle the girl’s things?”

Had he picked it up? Maybe. Maybe when he’d helped them carry their things into the house.

If she thought she could make him uncomfortable by waiting him out, she’d never been to an Amish church service. He
wondered how she’d respond to three hours of sitting on backless wooden benches.

There was a light tap on the door behind him. Adalyn motioned for one more minute.

“I need to tell you something else. I don’t want to, because I think the prosecution is grandstanding, but as your attorney, I believe it’s my job to make you aware of any developments in your case. The police department and the county detectives went out to your farm again this morning.”

Reuben had been staring at a yellow stain in the linoleum, but something in Adalyn’s voice caused him to glance up at her.

“They’re looking for another girl.”

“I don’t understand.”

“A girl from the Cedar Bend area has gone missing. At first they thought she’d run away, but then the boyfriend showed up. Turned out he’d been on a camping trip with his family — he has plenty of witnesses. They issued an alert immediately. A judge granted a release of her cell phone records and the police were able to trace her final calls. They were made here in Shipshewana.”

“I still don’t see what this has to do with me.”

“Her last call was placed two days before the girl’s body showed up at your place.”

All of the blood flowed out from Reuben’s head, like the time he’d been hit with a baseball as a boy, the moment before he’d passed out. He could still hear Adalyn’s voice, but it was as if it were coming from a great distance.

“In my opinion, there’s absolutely no proof connecting this girl’s disappearance to you, but the judge allowed a search warrant on circumstantial evidence and the slim chance that the girl might still be hidden on your place.”

The door behind him opened, and Reuben didn’t have to turn around. He knew who had walked in, could smell the leather jacket Shane Black wore before he walked up beside the table.

Black dropped the picture of a young girl onto the table. She looked to be a bit younger than Katie and had long red hair. A smattering of freckles lined the tops of her cheeks, and her smile revealed the metal braces so many of the
Englisch
teenagers wore.

“What about it Reuben? Want to tell us where she is?” Shane’s voice was low and rumbling like a coming storm.

Esther couldn’t believe Deborah had talked her into going to the quilting circle.

“What else are you going to do? Stay there and stare a hole through the police officers?” Deborah glanced back at Joshua and Leah. “Can you wipe his nose? I’m sure it isn’t catching. I know you don’t need a sick
dochder
.”

“Probably allergies from being in that dusty house.” Esther reached over the buggy seat and swiped at Joshua’s nose with her handkerchief, though Joshua did his best to avoid her. “If I had stayed at the house perhaps I could have watched over Tobias. You were standing right there. Did you not notice how he went after Shane?” She turned around and clutched the half-finished quilt in her lap.

“What does
went after
mean,
Mamm
?” Leah continued playing with her doll as she waited for her answer.

“Their ears miss nothing,” Esther muttered.

“What am I supposed to miss?”

Deborah glanced at her and smiled, which eased a bit of the tension in Esther’s shoulders — not all but some.

“Tobias will handle himself. When we left he was splitting wood with a vengeance.”

“What does
vengeance
mean?” Leah play-walked her doll across the top of the buggy seat.

“Can I send her to school early?” Esther asked. “Surely they won’t notice if I drop her off a few years before it’s time.”

“I like school. I play school with Mary and Martha.” Leah’s head popped between the seats, and Esther kissed her on the forehead.

“Sit back beside Joshua. Wipe his nose if it runs any more.”

“Eww.” Leah took the handkerchief and sat back, followed by a squeal, a commotion, and giggling. Esther didn’t have the energy to look and see what caused the ruckus.

“Time spent playing with Max will do them both good. Always wears them out, and they sleep better in the evening.” Deborah pulled into the parking lot of the quilt shop as Melinda was stepping out of her buggy.

“Oh, she brought Hannah with her.” Esther’s mood began to lift at the sight of the baby.

“My girls should be here somewhere as well. I’d asked her to pick them up from their
grossmammi
’s. They were to walk there after school.” Deborah stepped out of the buggy after Esther.

Esther hugged Melinda, then reached for the baby. She felt a small spot of happiness for the first time in hours. Though she hadn’t admitted it to anyone, all the talk of babies had reawakened her dreams of having a big family, dreams she’d let die when she’d buried Seth two years ago. Now that it seemed they were in reach again, everything was falling apart at the seams.

Melinda looked at her quietly from behind her wire-rimmed glasses, saying nothing but seeming to take in everything.

Surrounded by their children, they made their way into the quilt shop.

“Perfect timing, gals. I just returned from running errands, and I have tons to gab about.” Callie peeked around the corner of the kitchen where she was putting up supplies and running a pot of hot water for tea.

“
Ya
, so do we.”

“Max looks gorgeous today, Miss Callie.” Mary reached down and straightened Max’s purple scarf. “Does he mind wearing a girl’s color?”

“I thought dogs were color-blind,” Deborah confessed.

“No. I googled that one night when I was bored. They see color, but it appears paler to them. They do, however, have excellent night vision.”

“So he can see the color of his scarf?” Mary’s eyes widened.

“Possibly, but I don’t think he pays it much mind. Mostly he’s happy to receive his treat, which he doesn’t get until after I tie on his scarf each morning.”

“Nice trick.”

Esther listened to the prattle, but focused on baby Hannah. The child was nearly a year old now, but still smelled of powder and sweetness. Not quite awake from the walk inside, she snuggled against Esther’s chest and popped two fingers into her mouth.

“I worry she’s going to suck those fingers until she’s twelve,” Melinda said, as she hustled children and toys to the back of the store.

“Doubtful,” Deborah reasoned. “I’ve yet to see a teenager with her fingers in her mouth.”

“We worry about our children, just the same.” Melinda spread an old quilt across the floor and pulled a few toys out of the bag. Joshua immediately reached for the wooden blocks and began banging one against the floor.

“Anyone want to take Max out to the garden for his afternoon romp?”

“I’ll do it!” Mary squealed.

“And I’ll watch her,” Martha added.

“I don’t always need watching, Martha.
Mamm
, tell her I can walk Max by myself.”

“What will you do if he sees a bird and runs off down Main Street?” Deborah asked.

Mary scrunched up her eyes and glanced out the front window at a passing car. With a sigh she handed the leash to Martha. “Maybe you should walk him to the gate, then I’ll take over.”