Anathema (17 page)

Matt stashed the carriers in the depths of the closet and backed out. “It’s possible. But murder is a far cry from pranks.” His tone went back to impersonal.

“Arson isn’t a prank,” she pointed out. “Remember those fires that took place before
Mamm
and
Datt
died? When you’re a farmer, that’s your livelihood.”

They walked to the living room. The back door was open, and Hannah could see Asia outside throwing a stick to Ajax.

“Did they ever figure out who was behind the rash of attacks?” he asked.

“No. This was about a year before my family was murdered. Before you got on at the sheriff ’s department.”

“I’ll check out the old records. Maybe there will be a lead.”

She gestured to the couch, then curled up in the chair. “Have you reopened the investigation on my family?”

“It was never closed—it just went cold. But yeah, I’m trying to look for similarities. I always thought Long had to have an accomplice.” Her lips pressed together, and he knew who she thought that person had to be. “Tell me again about that night.”

“Reece was late that night. So late that I was attacked in the bridge.”

His head jerked up. “I never heard about that. What happened?”

“He got there in time to run them off.” A slight smile lifted her lips. “Always the rescuer.” She wanted to tell Matt her suspicions about Reece, but maybe it was anger and bitterness, not truth, that made her wonder if Reece could have been her parents’ killer. The more she ’d thought about it over the years, the more convinced she ’d become.

She eyed Matt. Would he even believe her? “I’ve wondered if Reece had something to do with the murders. Especially after he began to demonstrate his violent side.”

“Long was seen making the cookies,” Matt said.

“What about the symbol on the wall and the quilt?”

“What about it?”

“How did that relate to Cyrus? And what was his motive?”

He shrugged, but uneasiness flickered in his eyes. “I don’t know. We never found a motive or a connection to the peace symbol.”

“Well, I researched it. Wait here a minute.” She got up and went to the bedroom, where she dragged out the folder she ’d kept all these years. When she got back to the living room, she opened it and flipped through it. “Here. I found the symbol and the Greek word. The word was
anathema
.”

“Anathema. Weird word. What’s it mean?”

She knew what it meant firsthand, but she kept her tone cool and clinical, though it took major effort. “It’s a person or thing cursed and devoted to destruction. It can also be a formal ecclesiastical curse involving excommunication. Early on, the Catholic Church adopted the word
anathema
to signify the exclusion of a sinner from the society of the faithful, but it was pronounced mostly against heretics. And it can mean something that is completely destroyed for the glory of God. I think it’s someone who hates the Amish.”

“And the peace symbol?”

At least he was listening. She flipped to another page and pointed to the symbol. “It’s a peace symbol, like you said. But it’s also called Nero’s Cross. In this case, I think it’s meant as a warning to Christians. Nero used it to symbolize the destruction of Christianity. I think the killer meant it as a warning to exterminate my family.”

His eyes widened. “You mean the symbol we use for peace began as a hate symbol against Christianity?”

She nodded. “It was a visual representation of the way Nero crucified Christians upside down.”

Distaste twisted his mouth. “That’s sick. How did a hate symbol become associated with peace?”

“I don’t know, but let’s get back to the murder. It fits, Matt. Our people have been victims of misguided people for centuries. I don’t expect you to understand.”

His hand closed on the folder. “Can I look at this stuff?”

She didn’t want to let it go. It was the accumulation of years of searching. “Just be careful with it. Could you make copies and get it back to me tomorrow?”

He rose with the folder in his hand. “I’ll go one better. I’ll go to the office and make copies and bring it back tonight.”

He was more perceptive than she ’d realized. And kinder than his gruff voice let on. She remembered Reece had taken credit for getting the younger man on at the sheriff ’s department. “You knew Reece on the force, right? You were partners?” she asked.

Matt went toward the door without meeting her gaze. “I knew him.”

She caught up with him in the hall. “How well did you know him?”

“Well enough, but that has nothing to do with the investigation.”

Her warm feelings toward him vanished. “It might if it interferes.”

“I’m a professional. My personal life doesn’t intrude on my job.”

She stood her ground when he started to step past her. “If that’s true, then what are you hiding?”

He folded his arms across his chest. “It’s not a big deal, okay? He was a foster kid that my grandmother raised. He came back to visit her sometimes, and I met him there. I was a punk kid with an attitude, and he tried to help me.” His frown deepened. “Which made it hurt all the more when he ran off with you without a word
and
stole my gun.”

Hannah didn’t hide the surprise in her voice. “Trudy Beitler is your grandmother? Reece talked about her a lot. He said she was wonderful.”

“Have you met her?”

Hannah shook her head. “Her daughter Irene was my mother’s best friend, though.”

“Irene ’s
Englisch
.”

“My mom was
Englisch
.”

“You’re kidding!”

She shook her head. “She met my dad when she was eighteen. Actually, Irene introduced them.
Mamm
always said he was worth more than any TV set.” She smiled at the memory. “It doesn’t happen very often. The Amish are always a little doubtful that anyone who has lived in the world can make that change, but my mom showed them.”

“Did you ever meet my aunt Irene?”

“She saw me in a store one day and came up to ask if I was Patty’s daughter. I didn’t know who she meant for a minute. Everyone I knew called
Mamm
Patricia. Irene told me about their friendship. I saw it in action a few minutes later when
Mamm
saw her and came to chat.
Mamm
was so glad to see her. She even shared some news no one else knew but me and
Datt
.Were you and your aunt close?”

He shook his head. “Nope. She raised my sister, Gina, though. Your mom didn’t ever go see her?”

So did he understand the pain of losing parents too? “
Datt
would have been upset with her, and
Mamm
never wanted to rock the boat. Her parents were dead and her only sister had moved to Maine, so there was no
Englisch
family left in town. My mother left that life completely behind her.”

“Her friendship with Irene too?” Matt asked.

“I guess so. She wasn’t part of my life growing up. Does she still live here?” Maybe she’d reach out to Irene, find out more about her mother’s life.

“Yep. In the same house.”

“Did you live with your grandmother instead of your aunt?” she asked, curious if he’d answer the question.

He shrugged. “When I was eight, my dad hanged himself. My mom decided she wasn’t cut out for motherhood and vamoosed. I haven’t seen her since.” His voice crackled with hostility. “My aunt couldn’t handle a rambunctious boy.”

Her maternal heart gave a pang. “A child should know his mother. Matt, have you learned anything about the girl in the picture?”

He grabbed hold of the doorknob. “When have I had time to look? I’ve been chasing after your cats.” His gaze shuttered. He opened the door and exited.

She stared after him. Why wouldn’t he help her find the child? His demeanor changed every time the subject came up.

THE OLD PICKUP caught air over the potholes in the road. Reece forced himself to slow down. The old truck couldn’t take that much abuse. The Schwartz farm was just over the next hill, and he could barely make out its windmill from here. But his target this evening wasn’t Hannah. He pulled to the side of the road and watched the neighboring house.

Ellen Long had to be home, because her black car was in the driveway. He’d wondered why she didn’t go to Moe Honegger’s funeral. Had she remarried? He’d never heard. A light flickered on in a downstairs room as twilight fell, additional confirmation that the woman was inside. Reece let the truck roll forward and turned in behind the Saturn.

A dog barked at the loud screech the truck door made when he opened it, but it didn’t come to challenge him. Too bad. He was in the mood to kick something. Nothing had gone as planned so far. Hannah wasn’t staying at her family farm, and he ’d lost track of her. He hoped Ellen Long might shed some light on the situation. Of course, all he really had to do was grab the kid, but it wasn’t as easy as he ’d thought. Taking her from under Matt’s watchful eyes would be difficult. Besides, things weren’t quite in place. It was one thing to grab the kid and Hannah, and another thing to escape with them before Matt ran him to the ground.

He couldn’t tell himself why it was so important that he find Hannah. After all, once he had the kid, Hannah would come to him. But his soul craved the sight of her. He ’d been lonely the last five years, and not a day went by that he didn’t long for her. He saw himself in her eyes as strong and powerful. Only Hannah had ever truly loved him. She was the linchpin that kept his life together. After she left, everything had gone sour for him.

And he’d blown it. But he ’d be gentler this time. He ’d keep her with him forever.

He jogged to the side door and knocked hard. From inside he could hear the murmur of the television. He knocked again and finally heard the shuffle of feet on the floor. The white door opened, and a woman peered out. If he hadn’t known it was Ellen Long, he wouldn’t have recognized her. She wasn’t the fashion plate he remembered. Instead, she wore paint-stained sweats. A rubber band caught back her blond hair, and she wore no makeup. Her feet were bare.

“Yes?” she said in a tone that suggested she wanted to get back to her TV.

“Hi, Ellen, how are you?” He put on his most winning smile but also slipped his foot in the door so she couldn’t close it. It was a good thing he did. As recognition swept over her face, she tried to slam the door. “I’d like to talk to you for a minute.”

“I have nothing to say to you,” she spat. “You left town with that little Amish tramp.”

His muscles tensed. “Don’t talk about Hannah like that. You got what you wanted. Your husband out of the way.”

“What good was that when you left me?” Her voice thickened with tears. “I’ve missed you, Reece. We used to have some good times.” She slumped against the doorjamb. Her hard gaze softened. “It’s been a long time. You surprised me. Want to come in?” She reached out and touched his face.

What had he seen in this woman? He realized he’d used her, but right now she disgusted him. Being around Hannah’s purity had spoiled him for women like this. He recoiled. “I don’t think so, Ellen. Did you know Hannah was back in town? Have you seen her around?”

Her eyes glittered, and her mouth twisted. “Can’t keep your wife under control?”

“We ’re separated,” he mumbled. “Look, just answer the question.”

“No, I haven’t seen her.” She gave a pointed stare at his foot. “Now get your boot out of my doorway and leave me alone. Unless you want to come in after all? Just once for old times’ sake?”

He wasn’t even tempted. She needed a lesson about respect. Reece clenched his fists and moved toward her, but a car slowed in front of the house. He glanced behind him and saw its turn signal flashing. There was no time to teach her a lesson. He sent a warning glare her way, then stomped back to his truck and accelerated away. Maybe a cruise through town would turn up some clue as to Hannah’s whereabouts.

thirteen

“The Amish Triangle Quilt is a symbol of all that matters
to the Amish: God, family, and community.”

HANNAH SCHWARTZ,

IN
The Amish Faith Through Their Quilts

G
uilt was an uncomfortable bedfellow. Matt hadn’t been able to sleep all night. What was he going to do? The answers were no clearer when the new day got under way.

He glanced at his daughter in the seat beside him. She was more important than anyone else in his life. How could he thrust her into such a terrible situation?

“Why do I have to visit Grandma Trudy, Daddy? She doesn’t like me.” Caitlin kicked her feet back and forth in the seat. She looked cute in the dress she’d worn to church, a pink lacy number Gina had picked out.

“It’s our duty, Caitlin. Duty is important. We don’t always feel like doing it, but some things we have to do anyway.”

“I thought we were going to see Aunt Gina. I get to stay with her, don’t I? I don’t have to stay at Grandma Trudy’s?”

“No, you don’t have to stay there.” He wasn’t keen on leaving her with Gina either. She ’d stayed with him two days, then Blake had sweet-talked her home. She and Blake were likely still fighting, but at least they’d protect Caitlin. He didn’t know another place to leave her where Hannah wouldn’t stumble into seeing her.

Matt drove out County Road 100E to the narrow lane that led to Trudy’s big farmhouse. He parked behind her old car, more rusty than blue these days. A chair with one rocker missing tilted on the porch by the fly-speckled picture window. The porch swing hung crazily at an angle. He ’d fixed it last month, but it looked as though the chain had broken again and she ’d hooked it up on the next link. He should probably replace all of it. The house was a never-ending money pit, but Trudy refused to move into something easier to care for in town. She wasn’t poor by any stretch of the imagination, but she hated to “waste” money on the house.

Ajax woofed in the backseat and pawed at the door handle. “Hold on,” Matt muttered. Glancing at the house as he let the dog out, he wondered if Trudy was home. No light shone through the darkened windows. He hoped the old lady hadn’t fallen or something, though she was active and spry for seventy-two. She belonged to several clubs in town and drove herself every-where in that old beater car.