Anathema (19 page)

Blake looked up. “And now Reece is back in town and we have another. That has to mean something. Was he ever suspected at the time of the Schwartz murders?”

Matt’s gaze met his partner’s. “He was a detective at the time of the first murders, so no.”

“And he eloped with the only daughter. You think that ever would have happened if the parents were alive?”

“He was with Hannah when her family was killed.” Though Hannah had said he was late. But late enough to have done the deed?

Blake dropped into a chair. “Think about it. He could have helped Long dispose of the quilts, then rushed to meet her at the bridge while the strych-nine did its work. We know he was in the area, because he met Hannah at the bridge. The house wasn’t far.”

“Frankly, I don’t know why the quilts were taken. They’ve never been sold.” Matt scratched his head. “It doesn’t make any sense. If we could just find those quilts.”

“They might have been taken as a trophy. You know how some killers take something belonging to their victims.”

“Maybe.”

“He was in the area. It wouldn’t have taken long to load the quilts. They could have been in the back of his truck all along while you were searching. You must have suspected something.”

If only he’d been that observant. Matt shook his head. “I didn’t. I noticed how distracted he was, all worried about Hannah. When he ran off with her, I realized it was because he was crazy in love with her.”

“Weird, don’t you think? An Amish girl like that.”

“Yeah.”

“What’d she ever see in Reece? She’s a looker under those shapeless clothes and scraped-back hair.”

Matt had noticed too. Long ago. “You’re a married man. You’re not supposed to look.”

“I’m married, but I’m not dead.”

Matt wanted to ask if Blake was having an affair as Gina suspected, but maintaining a partnership with his brother-in-law had become a balancing act.

Blake’s face changed as though he’d suddenly been struck with a thought. “What if they did it together?”

“What?”

“Maybe Hannah wanted out from under her parents’ thumb and talked Reece into doing the deed. Or
she
did it so she could marry him.”

“It would be unusual for anyone Amish to be involved in a violent act.”

“But not unheard of. Wasn’t there some guy in Ohio who killed his wife or something?”

“Yeah, anyone can snap.” Matt rubbed his eyes. “I followed that idea for a while back then, but I was never able to tie Hannah to the purchase of poison. Everyone talked very highly of her. There was no evidence linking her to Long except the fact that they were neighbors. And to tell you the truth, I just don’t buy it.”

“We can check into her background—see what she ’s been doing in the ten years she ’s been gone.”

“Focus on Reece. I think that holds more possibilities.” Still, Matt didn’t want to believe that either. The guy had been his
partner
. And a foster brother. Reece had a temper at times, but didn’t everyone? Hannah said he ’d beaten her. Maybe you never really knew someone, who they were inside.

Just like the partner sitting right across from him. He had to bring this out in the open between them. “How’s Gina?”

“Whoa, where did that come from? She’s fine.”

Matt pinned Blake with his stare. “She thinks you’re having an affair, Blake. Tell me straight up. Are you?”

Blake looked away. “What if I said I was?”

Matt sagged back in his chair. He hadn’t wanted to believe it. “Who?”

“Vanessa. Your sister-in-law.”

Matt bolted upright. “You’ve got to be kidding. She ’s a man shark, buddy.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t know how it happened. It just did.”

Matt clenched his fists. “You idiot! This will kill my sister.”

“I know, I know. I’m in a mess. She ’s pregnant, so what can I do?”

Matt found no pity in his heart for his partner. “You’re stupid if you believe that. Vanessa is playing you, man. She came by my house today.”

Blake scowled. “What was she doing there?”

“Looking for some containers of clothes and shoes. I gave them to the Salvation Army.”

“She’ll be steamed. What’d you go and do that for?”

“I don’t run a storage service. I told her at least six times to come get them. She moved out of the place over six months ago, and it’s been rented out since then. She had plenty of time to get them. Man, you’re stupid if you can’t see you’re giving up gold for pot metal.”

Blake wouldn’t meet his gaze. “Look, if she says she’s pregnant, I believe her.”

“Yeah, right. She doesn’t like kids.”

“I’m trying to figure things out, okay? My marriage is important to me.”

“Not important enough to keep your pants zipped.” Matt’s voice vibrated with anger.

Blake flushed. “Just shut up. It’s none of your business.”

“Look, we’ve been friends a long time, Blake. And this is my sister we ’re talking about. I want the best for both of you. And that’s not Vanessa.”

“You don’t know her that well.”

Matt rolled his eyes. “Please. She was a thorn in my flesh for the seven years I was married to Analise.”

“She just made you mad over Caitlin.”

“Is that what she told you? Ask her how she mocked her own sister after two miscarriages. Or the way she talked about Caitlin as though she were some piece of trash not worthy to be part of our family.” If the woman was going around bad-mouthing his family, he ’d strangle her. “Let’s not talk about her.”

“You brought her up.”

“My mistake.” Matt pulled the mouse toward him and began to look at the evidence again. At least solving crimes was something he understood.

fourteen

“The Drunkard’s Path Quilt is a symbol of the journey.
To the Amish, their journey is to live a life pleasing to God.
They believe you can’t know your path will end in heaven and that
it’s presumptuous to think you can. The decision is up to God.”

—HANNAH SCHWARTZ,

IN
The Amish Faith Through Their Quilts

Q
uilting calmed her. Occupied by a needle and thread, Hannah’s hands had finally quit shaking after Reece ’s appearance. She studied the block in her hands. The quilt was taking shape. She tied the Triangle Quilt to the three things the Amish held dear: God, their families, and their communities.

Hannah loved the colors. Each set of two rows featured the dark and light opposites of each other—dark blue and light blue, dark green and light green, dark red and light red—all against black triangles that caused the colors to pop. This was the quilt that had to be on the cover of the book. No one could understand the Amish faith without understanding how those three elements shaped their culture.

“I heard from
FOX & Friends
,” Asia said. “They were so impressed with their interview, they want to come here for a show. Tape you in the kitchen with some traditional Amish food, film the house and greenhouse, that kind of thing.”

Hannah laid the quilt piece in her lap. “No. I told you no publicity while we’re here.”

Asia rolled her eyes. “Hannah, you have to do this! Do you have any idea how huge this is? We can’t turn this down.” She folded her arms across her chest. “I already told them yes. They’re coming next Friday. Your aunt will let you come out there. And it would be good publicity for your cousin’s greenhouse.”

“Luca doesn’t want publicity. No one here does. Don’t you get it, Asia? We are content with what God gives us.” Or she used to be. When had the desire for more crept in? When the first awestruck reader e-mailed her? When she made her first TV appearance?

“You owe it to your publisher. You can’t turn down something like this. It could translate into tens of thousands of copies sold, Hannah. This is just too big. After this is over, if you want to step back and take a break, I’ll go along with it. But we can’t turn up our noses at this.”

Maybe Asia was right. Didn’t she owe it to her publisher to do everything she could to sell the books? But she wanted to be sensitive to her family’s beliefs. How could she walk that tightrope? It was hard enough being an outsider. After just a few days of this treatment, she could see why some came back to the Amish faith. She missed the love, the community.

“All right,” she said. “But tell them they can’t tape Aunt Nora or any other Amish person.”

“If you explained it to Sarah, maybe she would let us tape the children. They’re so cute.”

“No, absolutely not! I won’t even ask her.” Hannah shuddered at the thought.

“Okay, fine.” Asia’s voice held disgust as she stood. “I’m going to run downtown. I need to fax some information over to the producer. And I need to e-mail your publicity shot.”

“Could you drop me at Aunt Nora’s? I really need to talk to her about this whole mess, see what she knows.” Hannah rubbed her head. “Oh wait, it’s Monday. She always goes to visit her friends on Monday.”

“You need to work anyway.”

“I need some inspiration. There ’s a quilt fair going on at the dime store two blocks over. I think I’ll take a look.”

Asia frowned. “I’m not sure it’s safe.”

“I’ll be in a crowd. Call me when you’re ready to come back and I’ll meet you at the curb.” The cats entwined themselves around her ankles, but she booted them out of the way, then grabbed her purse and joined Asia at the door, locking it behind them.

Asia let her out in front of the dime store, then drove on. Hannah stopped to glance at the quilts in the window. The traditional solid jewel tones shimmered against the black background. Looking at them made her want to keep working on her own, just as she ’d hoped.

She slipped into the busy store and made her way to the back, where other women were admiring the quilt display. Some were only for display, but she stopped beside a stack of quilts for sale. Her hand smoothed the top one, its cotton fabric soft and lustrous. She lifted it aside and began to sort through them. It was a habit she couldn’t stop. The hope of finding one of her mother’s never left her.

After reverently looking through the stacks, she realized there was nothing of her mother’s here. Someone had those quilts. Their disappearance was the one piece that didn’t fit in the puzzle she ’d stitched together convicting Reece of the crime. If he’d killed her family, what had he done with the quilts? If he’d sold them, they would have turned up on the market some-where. She ’d been everywhere, looked online and at flea markets, studied other museums’ collections. Not one had ever come to light.

Her obsession with finding them had infuriated Reece. Had he kept them from her deliberately to exert control over her?

She made her way back into the fresh air. Surely he wouldn’t have destroyed something so valuable, but she had no other explanation. She was so lost in her thoughts, she nearly collided with a figure on the sidewalk. Strong hands gripped her shoulders and steadied her. She looked up into Matt’s face.

“Sorry,” he said.

“It was my fault. I wasn’t looking.”

“I wanted to talk to you anyway.”

“Something about the little girl?” The hopeful words sprang from her mouth.

His smile faded. “No, nothing about her. I just wondered if you needed anything. And to say I’m sorry Vanessa bothered you.”

He turned and began to walk toward his SUV. “Get in. I’ll drive you home.”

Such an infuriating man. Just because he thought her quest was a wild-goose chase didn’t mean he could ignore her. Maybe she needed to start through town herself and ask everyone she met. She pressed her lips together and got into the vehicle. He shut the door behind her and went around to his side. She called Asia to tell her she had a ride.

She put her cell phone away, then glanced around his SUV. It was neat and smelled clean with a hint of his cologne. The vehicle shifted when he got in. She ’d like to ask him about his family. Vanessa’s visit had made her curious about him. Would he answer any of her questions? If she got to know him better, maybe he ’d help her find the little girl.

He glanced at her. “I hope Vanessa’s visit didn’t upset you too much. She can be rather . . . overbearing.”

“She was larger-than-life,” Hannah admitted. “You were married to her sister?”

He nodded. “Analise died three years ago.”

“Vanessa told me she ’d died. I’m so sorry.”

“So was I. Our daughter misses her terribly. Analise was a great mom. And a good wife.”

“What happened?”

“She had a brain aneurysm. She was prone to migraines, so at first that’s what we thought it was. If I’d taken her sooner . . .” His fingers tightened on the wheel. “Now Caitlin has no mother.”

“Guilt is hard to get over. I know all about that.” She stared out the window.

He turned his head to look at her. “Are you talking about the lemonade? There was no poison in it.”

She stared out the window. “I killed my family.”

“The cookies killed them. It wasn’t your fault.”

“It was my sin God punished.” She turned her head to look at him. “You don’t think Cyrus killed them, do you?”

“No, not anymore.”

“I—I think it was Reece. Except . . .”

“Except for what?”

“What did he do with the quilts?”

“Sold them, maybe?”

She shook her head. “They would have turned up on the market. There ’s no trace of them.”

“Tell me, what about the murder itself? Would Reece have had time to arrange the bodies after you left, gather up the cookies, and help Cyrus get rid of the quilts before he came to meet you? How late was he?”

“Probably fifteen or twenty minutes, maybe even half an hour. I didn’t have a watch. The bridge was only five minutes from the house. If he’d been waiting for me to leave, it could have happened that way. When I left the house, I went to the barn to do chores before going to meet him. I was out of the house at least an hour before I went to the bridge.”

The SUV rolled to a stop at a light. Hannah couldn’t face any more questions. “Look, thanks for the offer to drive me home, but I’ve got some errands to run.” She threw open the door and got out. In the sunshine, the fresh air cleansed the taint of death lingering from his probing. Why had she ever come back here? Her new life might have been boring, but at least grief didn’t dog every step. She had to get past this, concentrate on the future. A future that might hold a reunion with her child.