Marta Perry (12 page)

“Meredith, have you looked to see what clothes are missing?” he asked. “It might help to know what your mother has on.”

The strain ebbed from her face. “I’ll do that right now.” She ran for the house. After a moment’s hesitation, Zach followed her. Burkhalter would probably let himself be pushed more readily without an audience.

Meredith had already run upstairs by the time he reached the hall, and he went up two steps at a time, propelled by an urgency he didn’t want Meredith to see. This was looking more serious by the moment.

He found Meredith in the largest bedroom, which was a masterpiece of pink and frills. She burrowed in the closet and then jerked out one drawer after another. Finally she looked at him, a frown drawing her eyebrows together.

“I don’t understand. She seemed to be settled for the evening when I left, but apparently she came up and changed clothes at some point.”

“Can you tell what she’s wearing?”

Her frown deepened. “Yes, but it doesn’t make any sense. She’s put on her black slacks and a black sweater. That’s all that’s missing. Where would she go dressed like that?”

“I can’t imagine.”

Actually he could, but he didn’t think it would be good to say so. If it weren’t for the presence of the car in the garage, he’d think she’d set out to follow them. He could picture her creeping around, maybe peering into the vehicle when they’d been parked at the overlook.

He shook off the thought. The car was here. They couldn’t get away from that fact.

Another vehicle pulled into the driveway, its headlights reflecting from the window. Maybe reinforcements had arrived.

They went downstairs. Deer Run’s two patrolmen had arrived, and Zach realized that Ted Singer was eyeing him suspiciously. No doubt he’d be glad of an excuse to blame Zach for any malfeasance. Several other cars pulled up within moments. It looked as if word was spreading.

To give him credit, Burkhalter proved adept at organizing a search now that he had sufficient numbers. Several people were dispatched to search along the road in either direction, while others started knocking on doors and looking in neighboring yards.

Meredith still wore the dress she’d had on when they went out to dinner, but she’d pulled a coat over it. She looked as if she held on to her composure by a thread. He touched her arm lightly.

“Why don’t you go inside? There’s nothing you can do here.”

“No, I can’t—”

“Zach’s right.” The woman who spoke came to put an arm around Meredith. “We’ll go inside and start coffee brewing. That’s the most useful thing to do now.”

To Zach’s relief, Meredith seemed to listen. She let herself be pushed toward the back door.

Two figures had been standing quietly behind the woman. Now the older man moved forward. “Don’t fret about her. Rachel will take care of her.”

Rachel. Of course.
“If she keeps her busy inside, that’ll help,” Zach said.

“I am Rachel’s
daad.
” The tall, graying Amish man looked vaguely familiar. “This is her brother, Benjamin. We’ll help search,
ja?
”

The teenage boy looked like most Pennsylvania Amish boys his age, with fair hair in a bowl cut, blue eyes and a general air of growing out of his blue shirt and black pants.

“Thanks. The more sets of eyes, the better.” He switched his flashlight back on, seeing that the two of them had come prepared with their own. In fact, the father carried a battery lantern that cast a wider field than a flashlight.

“Where should we start?” The boy spoke for the first time. He sent a nervous glance in the direction of Burkhalter, making Zach remember Meredith saying that the Amish, though very law-abiding, preferred to avoid the police when possible.

“I was just going to scout along the tall grass at the far edge of the yard for any sign she went beyond the yard. You want to help with that?” Zach asked.

They nodded, separating to move slowly along the point at which mowed lawn gave way to a tangle of weeds and brush. Zach followed suit, trying to concentrate on each blade of grass as if it had a secret to tell him. Anything to keep himself from wondering and worrying.

When he straightened to stretch his back briefly, he could see the lights crossing and recrossing the surrounding properties, and hear voices calling Margo King’s name. Where had the woman gone? This didn’t make any sense. Margo was hardly the type to go out for a walk at night, not if she was in her right mind.

And if she’d had some sort of episode, become confused, wandered off? He suspected that was in everyone’s thoughts. If so, Meredith was going to have a hard time forgiving herself for going out tonight. To say nothing of forgiving him.

A breeze swept down the valley, making the grasses sway and whisper. He spotted a light flash on and off and realized it was Rachel’s brother, signaling him. He hurried to join the boy.

“You find something?”

“
Ja.
Maybe,” he added cautiously. “See here.” He knelt, focusing the light on the path that led back to the woods and the dam. “Someone has been here. And since that shower yesterday, ain’t so?”

The boy was right. In a soft patch of ground was the smudged mark of a shoe.

“Could be nothing, but maybe we’d better have a look. Go slowly, in case there are any other prints.”

“Ja.”
Keeping his light trained on the path, the boy moved cautiously. Zach kept pace with him, supplementing the kid’s flashlight with his own.

At the place where the path entered the fringe of trees, Benjamin stopped. “There.”

Zach bent for a closer look. The boy’s sharp eyes had picked up the faintest smudge that might be another shoe mark.

“Good work spotting that. Could be someone else going to the pool, I suppose, but not that many people go there.” And why on earth would Margo?

“No. It’s a bad place,” Benjamin said unexpectedly.

“Why bad? Because Aaron Mast died there?” He eyed the boy.

“Ja.”
The whites of his eyes showed.

“You don’t have to come any farther,” Zach said. “I can check it out.”

Benjamin straightened, young face firming. “I will come, too.”

“Right. Let’s go, then.”

The belt of trees ended in the cleared space around the pool. Zach paused as they stepped into the clearing. “Margo King,” he called. “Can you hear me?”

Nothing. They swept the beams of their flashlights around the clearing slowly, the dark pool telling them nothing. Then the light hit an even darker shape at the edge of the water.

The boy gasped, and the flashlight shook in his hand. “Is it...”

“Stay here,” Zach ordered, moving forward carefully, his logical mind telling him it could be a half-submerged log even as his instinct told him it wasn’t.

He went closer—close enough to see that it was Margo, facedown in the water. Gone, he thought, but he had to make sure.

He came in from the side, avoiding the scuffed marks at the water’s edge, and reached out to the form that rocked slowly with the movement of the water. A few moments later he stood.

“Sh-shouldn’t we get her out?” It sounded as if the boy’s teeth were chattering, but he hadn’t run or screamed.

Zach retraced his steps. “It’s too late,” he said. “Benjamin, listen to me.” He grasped the boy’s arms, turning him so that he no longer looked at the body. “The police will want to see everything just the way we found it. I want you to go find Chief Burkhalter. Don’t say anything to anyone else. Just tell him quietly. We don’t want Meredith to hear until someone can break it to her properly. Understand?”

The boy gulped, nodded and spun to race back down the trail.

Zach stood, surveying the scene, knowing Burkhalter wouldn’t thank him for interfering in a case of what might or might not be accidental death. He stared at the body, sympathizing with Benjamin’s instinctive desire to pull it out. Pity moved through him. He couldn’t pretend he’d liked Margo, but she shouldn’t have died like this.

It could have been an accident, of course, but Zach found it hard to imagine a likely scenario.

Poor Meredith. She would grieve no matter how it had happened, but he very much feared the circumstances were going to double her grief.

CHAPTER TWELVE

T
HE
SECONDS
TICKED
BY
.
Zach pictured the frightened boy trying to explain the situation to Burkhalter without alarming everyone else. Would the chief understand?

Maybe he should have gone himself, but it had seemed wrong to leave Margo’s body alone here. And he couldn’t ask Benjamin to stay. The kid was scared enough already.

Voices pierced the night—a babble that grew in volume, with Burkhalter’s bull-like roar foremost among them. A wave of flashlights swung this way, bobbing and flashing along the trail. Blast the man, he was letting the whole herd come stampeding onto what might be a crime scene.

Moving quickly, he positioned himself at the entry to the path. Burkhalter reached him first, thrusting him back when Zach tried to stop him.

“What’s this nonsense?” He stopped in midroar as Zach trained his light on the body, muttering an oath under his breath.

“Better try to keep them from tramping all over the scene,” Zach said quietly, wondering how likely it was that the chief would listen to anything he said.

Before Burkhalter could respond, Bennett Campbell tried to push past them.

“Get her out, man. What do you mean by leaving her there? You should have pulled her out the instant you found her.”

Zach gripped his arm. “It’s too late.”

“You don’t know that. I’m the doctor here, not you.” He swung on Burkhalter. “I demand you let me treat her.”

While Campbell’s influence had worked in his favor earlier, it went against him now. Zach made eye contact with Burkhalter, and it seemed to him that there was a question in the older man’s face.

“At least try to preserve the scene,” Zach said.

Ted elbowed his way forward. “The chief doesn’t need any advice from you.”

Ignoring him, Zach kept his eyes trained on Burkhalter. Finally the chief nodded.

“Ted, help me get her out. Doc, you come, too. Nobody else moves any farther, got it?”

Nobody argued. The three picked their way across the clearing, avoiding the edge of the pool. They began the difficult job of getting the body out without disturbing the area any more than they had to. Silence hung heavy, broken only by the grunts and murmurs of the men. Zach suspected every person there had accepted the fact that Margo was dead.

He felt a tug on his sleeve. Benjamin stood there, shivering a little, his father behind him with a hand on the boy’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I tried to tell him quietlike, but he wouldn’t listen, wouldn’t believe me.”

“It’s okay, Benjamin. I know you did your best. You’re not to blame for Burkhalter’s...” He mentally deleted several words he wanted to say. “It’s not your fault he didn’t listen.”

“Rachel had Meredith in the house,” the father said. “It could be that she didn’t hear.”

Zach nodded. It could be, but he didn’t hold out much hope that she wouldn’t catch on to the uproar. He ought to go and tell her himself, but someone had to try and ensure that Burkhalter handled this properly.

Flashlights bounced as a ripple went through the crowd. His heart sank. Too late to break the news gently—Meredith pushed her way forward with Rachel trying vainly to hold her back.

“Let me through. Mom—”

His heart contracting, Zach stepped into her path so that she ran right into him.

“Let me go.” She struggled against the restraining hands, and he suspected she didn’t even recognize him in that moment.

“Merry.” He used the pet name without intention. “I’m so sorry. She’s gone.”

She stared into his face, her eyes dark with shock. “Gone,” she repeated. “She can’t be. She was fine when I left.”

“Hush now,” Rachel said gently, putting her arms around Meredith. “Just listen to me. You can’t get in the way. Let the doctor do his work.”

The glance Rachel sent to Zach showed that she understood there was nothing the doctor could do, but she’d chosen the right approach. Meredith settled, shivering a little but no longer trying to rush forward. Her gaze strained toward the small group huddled around the dark figure on the edge of the pond. Someone switched on a strong battery lamp, and it cast the scene into sharp, black-and-white relief.

Bennett Campbell rose from his knees, moving as slowly as if he’d aged twenty years in the past few minutes. “Margo is dead.” His face was ravaged in the harsh light. He seemed shaken by a spasm of emotion. “It never should have happened.” He stared at Meredith. “You shouldn’t have left her alone.”

Zach felt Meredith recoil, as if each word was a separate stone striking her. Rage filled him, but before he could speak, Rachel did.

“That was unnecessary, Dr. Campbell.” Her clear voice rang like a bell in the sodden silence.

Zach suspected he wasn’t the only one looking at Rachel in surprise. Such an attack was unusual, to say the least, for someone raised Amish.

Apparently she got through to Campbell. He looked abashed, rubbing a hand across his face. “Sorry,” he muttered. “Afraid I’m upset.” He turned to Burkhalter with an assumption of something like his earlier assurance. “I’ll sign the certificate and make arrangements with the funeral director. That’s the least I can do for her.” His voice trembled again.

Zach’s heart sank. He was going to have to intervene again, and it was the last thing he wanted to do. Leaving Meredith with Rachel’s arm securely around her, he picked his way toward Chief Burkhalter. Not that his caution was going to do much good. The ground would look like the proverbial herd of elephants had tramped over it by morning.

“You can’t do that,” he said, keeping his voice low.

Campbell flared up in a second, as he’d expected. “Stay out of this, Randal. I’m the woman’s physician. I’m within my rights to sign the death certificate. It’s a clear case of accidental drowning.”

“What about the injury to the side of her head?” Zach could see the mark clearly now that the body was out of the water.

“Incidental,” Campbell said. “She struck her head on a rock when she fell. It’s obvious what happened. She must have had an episode with her heart. Short of breath, her heart racing, she tried to go for help and became disoriented.”

The man couldn’t possibly be as dumb as he sounded. It made Zach wonder how many of his former patients had died unnecessarily.

“First taking the time to change into dark clothes and collect a flashlight?” He let the sarcasm show in his voice.

“What are you suggesting?” Campbell demanded.

“I’m not suggesting anything.” He hadn’t reached that point yet. He just knew this death couldn’t be written off as another accident. “That will be up to Chief Burkhalter. He’s required to order an autopsy in a case of unexplained death.”

Campbell’s face reddened. “I’ve just explained—”

“He’s right, Doc.” Burkhalter looked like a man who accepted his duty, now that it had been pointed out to him. He turned to the nearest patrolman. “Clear the area. Get all those people out of here. Take names and addresses and send them home. Ted, you secure the scene. I want crime scene tape clear back at the beginning of the path, and you’d best block off the other side of the creek, as well.”

Now that Burkhalter had gotten a grip, he was doing what should have been done from the first. Zach regretted that it had taken his intervention to make it happen. Burkhalter was bound to resent that fact.

Maybe he should have let it go—let it be written off as an accident. But that was the trouble with being a cop. He couldn’t turn off his profession when it was inconvenient.

Besides, in the long run, Meredith would have to know the truth. His heart wrenched. Otherwise she’d spend the rest of her life convinced that she’d caused her mother’s death.

* * *

M
EREDITH
HUDDLED
IN
her chair at the kitchen table, trying to take what comfort she could from the familiar setting. There was the tea towel, hung up neatly after her mother had cleaned up from her supper. Above the table hung the clock her father had taken in trade from an Amish craftsman, a habit of his that had driven her mother crazy. Now they were both gone.

She shivered, wrapping her hands around the mug of tea Rachel had made for her, trying to absorb its warmth. A blanket dropped over her shoulders, and hands smoothed it around her. She looked up, grateful, into Zach’s worried face.

For just an instant her heart was pierced by the knowledge that she loved him. Then, just as quickly, it was superseded by the conviction that if she hadn’t gone out with him that night, her mother would still be alive.

She stared down at the amber liquid in the cup—chamomile, by the scent of it. She bit her lip. Zach, her mother...

“You’re blaming yourself,” Rachel said, sitting down across from her. “Stop it right now. What happened wasn’t your fault.”

Meredith shook her head. “If I hadn’t gone out—”

“Rachel’s right,” Zach interrupted, his voice gruff. “We don’t know enough yet to say how or why this happened to your mother. But it’s obvious that she had formed some intention of her own. Changing her clothes, taking a flashlight... Those things show that she intended to go out, apparently to the pool. Why?”

Rachel nodded. She stood again, as if she needed to keep busy, and began slicing the shoofly pie her mother had sent over at some point in the past hour.

“Until we know what Margo planned to do, we won’t know how she died.” She plopped the plate down on the table. “I was brought up to say that it was God’s will when something like this happens. Maybe so. Maybe it was some plan of Margo’s that went wrong, or maybe it was someone’s evil intent. But it definitely didn’t happen because you went out to dinner.”

Meredith was almost convinced. Rachel had put it so compellingly. And maybe she was swayed by Rachel because Rachel so seldom told anyone else what to do or believe.

“I...I’ll try to remember that.” She managed a smile. “You should go home. Mandy—”

“Mandy is fine,” Rachel said. “My sister is with her tonight, and she’ll get her off to school in the morning. I’m staying with you.”

Meredith had to fight back tears. “I can’t let you do that.”

“You have nothing to say about it,” Rachel said with mock severity. “You can come to my house if you’d rather. We have a room ready for you. But I thought you might want to be here.”

“Yes.” She felt a wave of gratitude for Rachel’s quick understanding. “I need to stay in my own house tonight.” It would feel like desertion to go away now.

“So I’m staying, too.” Rachel glanced at the clock and then at Zach. “How long will Chief Burkhalter keep us waiting here? I think Meredith should lie down, even if she doesn’t sleep.”

“Hard to say.” Zach didn’t sound especially sure of Chief Burkhalter’s methods. “I can try to hurry him up.” He half rose, but Meredith caught his arm.

“Don’t. It’s all right.” She felt an inward shudder at the thought of closing her eyes. All she’d see would be that dark shape at the edge of the darker pool.

“Someone’s coming.” Rachel nodded to the glass in the back door. “Maybe—” She cut off the words when the door opened and Bennett Campbell stepped inside.

Bennett seemed to hesitate at seeing the three of them watching him. Then he approached Meredith, still moving so stiffly that she felt a wave of pity for him. He’d been so attached to her mother that she didn’t know what he’d do without her.

“Bennett, would you like to sit down?” She gestured to a chair.

He shook his head. “I won’t take a minute. I must apologize for speaking so sharply earlier.”

But not for his words, she suspected. “We were all in shock,” she replied, not sure what else she could say in the face of his stiff manner.

“Yes, well...” He hesitated, eyeing Zach with suspicion. “Was that true, that Margo had put on dark clothing and taken a flashlight with her?”

“Yes.” She couldn’t avoid answering a direct question, whether it was really his business or not.

Bennett shook his head slowly. “Inexplicable,” he pronounced. “Still, people can do the most extraordinary things when they’re upset.”

In other words, he didn’t want to let go of his pet theory. Meredith felt a surge of impatience with the man. They wouldn’t find out the truth of what happened by snatching at easy answers.

“Well, I must go. You’ll let me know if there’s anything I can do.” Still shaking his head, he went back out, holding the door for Chief Burkhalter as he did.

Rachel already had a mug and the coffeepot in her hands by the time the chief reached the table. “You’ll need some coffee by now, Chief Burkhalter. And maybe a piece of shoofly pie to keep you going.”

Seeming thrown off his stride by this display of hospitality, Burkhalter let himself be ushered to a chair. He had a mouthful of shoofly pie by the time he tried to regain control of the situation.

He swallowed. “Maybe I’d better talk to Meredith alone,” he said.

Rachel slid into the chair next to her, so that Zach was on one side of her and Rachel on the other. She reached over to squeeze Meredith’s hand.

“Meredith is still in a state of shock. She needs to have her friends here,” she said.

Burkhalter looked undecided for a moment, but then he shrugged. “Yeah, well, it doesn’t matter, I guess. At this point, I just want to get the events of the evening clear in my mind. We can talk more tomorrow.” He pulled a battered notebook from his uniform pocket and spread it open next to the plate of shoofly pie. “Now, I understand you went out this evening?”

Meredith nodded. There was nothing to be wary of in answering his questions. “Yes. I left at about six-thirty or so. My mother was sitting in her recliner in the living room, watching television. She seemed to be settled for the evening.”

Burkhalter nodded. She realized that Zach was watching him closely, his dark eyes unreadable.

“And Zach here picked you up? You didn’t drive separately?”

“No, he drove. We went to Williamsport, to the Peter Herdic House.”

“I had made a reservation for seven,” Zach put in smoothly.

“Your mother had no plans for the evening as far as you know?” Burkhalter looked at her, pen poised over the notebook.