Chapter 8
Midafternoon the following day, Evan, Rachel, and Timothy turned into a housing development in a small town west of Harrisburg. It had taken a little persuasion to convince Timothy to agree to go with them to find Enosh. Especially when he realized Mary Aaron wouldn’t be going because she had committed to an outing with her mother. But in the end, Timothy genuinely wanted to help the police find out who had murdered Beth, so he agreed to go with them as long as no one would know he had gone and he’d be home by milking time.
A call to J. M. S.’s office by Evan had produced the address of the current job site. Roofing was underway on three spec homes. There were several trucks with the J. M. S. Roofing logo painted on the sides, and a crew at work on each house.
Rachel was at the wheel of her Jeep. “He may be working under the table,” she explained to Evan. “A lot of these runaway Amish kids don’t have the paperwork to prove their ages, and they certainly don’t have social security cards. Obtaining them takes time.”
“I think that might be him on that ladder,” Timothy said, pointing as Rachel parked. “Let me go and talk to him. I’ll see if he’s willing to talk to you.”
Rachel watched Timothy walk down the sidewalk and approach the ladder. He called out to a young man wearing jeans and a hard hat. No shirt. Knowing Amish standards of modesty, Rachel could appreciate how much of a stretch that might be for Enosh. Some Old Order Amish kids went crazy when they left the strict communities. They started drinking alcohol and engaging in risky behavior. Those individuals rarely made it on the outside. The leap from Stone Mill to the English world was a big one, and only the steadiest and more resilient could succeed. For Enosh’s sake, she hoped he was one of the few who would.
The boy came down the ladder, and he and Timothy exchanged greetings. Rachel couldn’t hear what they were saying, even with the window down, but Timothy and Enosh soon drew the attention of an older, bearded man. The man walked over to join them, followed by two of the roofers and one of the truck drivers. Enosh kept glancing in the direction of the Jeep, then at the men, then back at the Jeep again.
Evan put his hand on the door handle. “I think we’d better join them,” he said. “Our boy looks as though he might be getting ready to pull a vanishing act.”
As she and Evan got out of the car, the bearded man broke off from the group and strode toward them. “Jake Sweitzer. I understand you want to talk to Enosh. Is there some problem?” He thrust out a hand to Evan, but the expression in his eyes was wary. He was a big man, stern but not morose, with the look of someone who’d spent a lifetime working outside.
Evan returned the handshake and introduced Rachel and then himself. “Enosh isn’t in any trouble. We’re hoping he can give us some information on a young Amish woman who left her community about the same time he did. You may have seen something on the news. Beth Glick?”
Jake nodded. “The girl who was murdered. Ya, I saw that in the paper.” He glanced back toward Enosh and Timothy. Several of the crew stood protectively on either side of them. “Is this an official visit, Officer?”
“No, not at all. We’re tracking down all leads, no matter how small. Frankly, the investigation has hit a stone wall. Beth Glick vanished from her home and community and showed up two years later, dead. If we had any idea what happened to her in the time she was gone, we might have a place to start.”
Jake frowned. “Enosh is a good kid. He works hard, pulls his fair share, and the guys like him. He’s not someone the police would be questioning in a murder.”
“We’re not looking at him on this,” Evan explained. “I was just hoping that because he left the same Amish community, he might know something about how Beth Glick was able to leave. Who might have helped her in Stone Mill and on the outside.”
Jake glanced at the knot of men. “He says he knew Beth, but not anything about her leaving. He doesn’t know where she went or how she left. He left Stone Mill three years ago.”
Evan nodded. “You said Enosh is a good worker. You know how he spends his time when he’s not at work?”
“I’m telling you, Officer, he’s a nice young man. Has a girlfriend, taking GED classes two nights a week. He keeps his nose clean. Always the first in on Saturday nights.”
Rachel met the man’s gaze. “The first in? Meaning . . . he’s staying with you?” She knew it was done. Good souls, often ex-Amish themselves, opened their homes to young people to help them get on their feet while they found work.
“Ya,” Jake agreed reluctantly. “Sleeps over our garage.”
Rachel watched him closely. “I’d guess he’s not the only house guest you have.”
He gave her a steady look. “Mast, you said? You wouldn’t happen to be the woman I read about in the paper a few months ago—opened the bed-and-breakfast in the old mill house?”
She answered his question with one of her own. “Is Enosh the only ex-Amish you have working for you, Mr. Sweitzer?”
“Why do you ask?” His eyes narrowed, and she was afraid she might have stepped over the line.
Rachel was relieved that Evan knew to just keep quiet at this point and let her steer the conversation. He stood next to her, listening.
“You own a construction company,” she said. “Amish boys are good carpenters. It’s one skill that translates to the Englisher world. By your name, I’d suspect that you are first or second generation away from a horse and buggy yourself.” She shrugged. “I can spot them. I bet you can, too.” She offered a quiet smile. “I left when I was eighteen.”
He grimaced. “Sure you aren’t the cop? You hit the nail on the head. I left at sixteen, twenty-six years ago. For the first two years, I nearly starved to death, and the next, it’s a wonder I didn’t end up in prison.”
“So you help where you can,” she said, with understanding in her tone.
Jake shrugged again. “Amish kids find their way to my door. I feed them, give them a bed and the chance to earn an honest dollar. If that’s against the law, put the cuffs on me.” He offered callused hands, and Rachel saw that half of his left index finger was missing. Jake flashed a crooked grin. “Skil saw. First week on the job.”
Rachel winced. She could see it all in her mind’s eye: a skinny, scared kid with a bad haircut. One mistake, and a lifetime of paying for it. She held up her right thumb revealing the shiny scar of an old burn. “Electric stove top.”
“I win,” Jake said. “No contest.”
“Ya,” she agreed. “You win.” She sensed that a connection had been made between them. For a few steps, she and Jake Sweitzer had walked the same path. “Do you ever think of going back?” she asked him.
His mouth firmed. “Do you?”
Emotion made her voice thick. “More often than I like to admit.”
Jake nodded. “I know the feeling. Three kids, an English wife that I’m crazy about, and two mortgages. Still . . . the old life, it calls to me. You know what I mean?”
“I do,” she admitted. She looked up at Evan, saw the puzzlement in his eyes, and offered him a rueful smile. “But I’m not giving in to it.”
Jake nodded toward the men on the nearest roof. “I’ve helped twelve, fourteen Amish kids over the years. Maybe half went back home and joined the church. Of the others, I only lost one to the pleasures of the world. But Enosh is the best of the lot. I’ll not see him hurt. He’s come a long way, but he’s still fragile.”
She gazed at Timothy and Enosh and the other men who had joined them. “Did you have any girls pass through?”
Jake shook his head. “Ne. Girls are a lot trickier. Most don’t stay away from the old life for long. And any who have shown up on my doorstep, I’ve passed them on to other people. My wife, Jen, and I have three boys. I wouldn’t know the first thing about girls. It could be that Enosh knows something about one or more of them. But, like I said before, not Beth Glick. We talked about it, Enosh and me. He went to school with her. He was shocked as h—” Jake caught himself. “Shocked as the rest of us when he heard about her murder. Was she trying to go back to her family?”
“We don’t know,” Rachel answered. “That’s what we’re trying to find out.”
“We’d still like to talk to Enosh,” Evan said quietly. “With no details, we have no motive. If we don’t catch whoever killed her, he might kill again. If Enosh could do anything to prevent that . . .” He left the rest unspoken.
Jake considered and then nodded. “My crew’s a little spooked. I’ve got three others here who left the Amish.” He thought for a minute, then spoke again. “There’s a diner about a mile from here. We usually stop there for coffee after work. Enosh likes the apple pie. He says it reminds him of his grossmama’s. Take him over there. He’ll talk to you if I ask him. Just don’t put any pressure on him to go back home.” He smiled. “Enosh isn’t much for coffee, but he likes the hot chocolate with whipped cream just fine.”
Ten minutes later, Rachel and Evan sat in a booth at the diner across from Timothy and Enosh. Enosh was blond, short, wiry, and clearly nervous. “Like I told Jake,” he said in Deitsch, “I know nothing about Beth. Haven’t seen her since I left Stone Mill.”
Evan frowned. “English, please,” he said.
“Ya, sure thing.” Enosh plucked a napkin from the stainless steel holder on the table. “But I can’t tell you nothing.” He glanced at Timothy. “Don’t know why you told ’em I was here.”
“He didn’t,” Rachel said. “One of the Cut-Ups told where you were working, not to me but to one of my cousins.” That was safe enough, she thought. She had so many cousins, Enosh would never know where to put the blame.
The young man sat back in the booth, looking very much like a defiant Englisher kid.
“Have you been in touch with any of the girls who left the valley?” Rachel asked.
The waitress came to the table with their orders, a hamburger and fries for Timothy, coffee for Evan, and pie with ice cream for her and Enosh, plus his hot chocolate with whipped cream. When the waitress walked away, Rachel named the other missing girls: Hannah Verkler, Lucy Zug, and Lorraine Yoder.
As she named each one, Enosh shook his head. “Ne, none of them,” he said. But he twitched and his ears reddened when she mentioned Lucy Zug.
Evan stirred his coffee. The white mug was oversized and bore the image of a silver guitar on the outside. “I hear you have a girlfriend.”
“She’s English,” Timothy put in.
“My cousin Mary Aaron Hostetler is good friends with Hannah Verkler,” Rachel said. “She’s really worried about her. Are you sure you don’t know Hannah? She left after Beth.”
Enosh sighed. “I knew Hannah, but I haven’t seen her. I told you, I don’t know nothing about any of them girls. Not since I left Stone Mill.” He dug his fork into the apple pie and took a large bite.
“Except Lucy,” Rachel said, taking a forkful of apple pie.
Enosh chewed, keeping his gaze fixed on his plate.
“You won’t get into any trouble, Enosh,” Evan told him. “We need your help.”
When he didn’t respond, Rachel said, “How would you feel if what happened to Beth happened to Lucy?”
Enosh swallowed. “Nothing’s going to happen to Lucy. She’s fine.”
Timothy elbowed his buddy. “You might as well tell them what you know about Lucy. I know Rachel, and she won’t leave you in peace until you do.”
Enosh ran a hand through his close-cropped, white-blond hair. He didn’t look twenty-two; he could have passed for sixteen. Only his eyes appeared old and world-weary. “She’s fine,” he insisted. “I talked to her last week.”
“Where is she?” Evan asked, abandoning his coffee.
“State College. She’s got a job taking care of a baby for some teacher at Penn State.”
“She works as a babysitter?” Rachel asked.
“Nanny.” Enosh used the Deitsch term, which translated as “nurse for a baby.” “She lives with the family. They treat her good. They even bought her a car.”
“So how is it that you know where Lucy is but none of the others?” Evan asked, taking out his iPhone. “Can you give us an address? Her phone number?”
“She’s got a good job,” Enosh said. “Lucy likes it there. Don’t make trouble for her.”
“We’re not making trouble for anyone.” Rachel pointed at him with her fork. “We’re trying to prevent trouble and to find whoever murdered Beth Glick. If you care about Lucy, you’ll tell us how to contact her.”
“Don’t worry. We can trust Rachel and him. They won’t make her go home,” Timothy said. “And they won’t tell her father where she is.”
“Lucy was pals with my sisters,” Enosh said slowly. “They told me to look out for her when we . . .” He filled his mouth with pie.
“And you are looking out for her,” Rachel assured him when he didn’t finish. “More than you know.”
Beads of sweat broke out on the boy’s forehead, and he wiped them off with the back of his hand. Rachel folded her arms and gazed at him. “You want to do the right thing, Enosh. I know you do.”
He squirmed in his seat and absently mopped up a drip of melted ice cream on the table with a napkin. “Okay,” he said reluctantly. “I don’t know the house address, but I can give you her phone number. If she won’t talk to you, it’s not my fault.”
Twenty minutes later, Rachel, Evan, and Timothy left the diner. Enosh remained where he was, working on his second piece of pie and second cup of hot chocolate while he waited for a ride.
None of the three spoke until they got back into the Jeep.
“A network,” Evan said, as she backed out of the parking place. “Jake Sweitzer as good as admitted that there’s a network of people helping these kids once they run away. They’re finding them places to stay, jobs. I had no idea.”
“Ya,” Timothy agreed. “Englishers.” He shook his head in amazement. “I never heard about that.” And then he asked, “Will I be home in time for night milking?”
“You will,” Rachel promised. “We’ll drop you off on the way.”
“On the way to where?” Evan asked.
“State College.”
The house was large, a block from a park, and situated on a wide, tree-lined street in an upscale part of town. It was seven forty-five, and lights were beginning to come on in the neighboring homes. Deep shadows fell across the lawns and sidewalks.
“Nice place,” Evan said as Rachel pulled to the curb a few properties down from the house they’d been looking for. “Nice to know someone in the state has money.”
“Hiring a live-in nanny isn’t cheap,” Rachel said. “Not that I’d know personally, but I’ve known business associates who had them.”
Contacting Lucy Zug had been almost too easy. And the young woman had agreed to speak with them if they could get there before nine p.m.
Rachel reached across to take Evan’s hand and give it a squeeze. It had taken all her negotiating skills to convince him that they should try to speak with Lucy before bringing in the detective. Evan was hesitant, but it made perfect sense to her. What if Lucy knew nothing about the other girls? Her safety might lie in the fact that no one knew where she was. Once the officials got into it, word might leak to the press, and she could find her picture in the morning paper. Whatever life Lucy had made for herself in the two and a half years or so since she’d left Stone Mill could be jeopardized needlessly. It was a leap to suppose that if her whereabouts became public knowledge, she might become a target for the killer, but who knew? Anything was possible. And if Lucy was keeping her new life a secret, what right did she and Evan have to risk her privacy?
“You know that if she gives us any leads,” Evan warned Rachel, “I have to take them to the sergeant.”
Rachel nodded. “I know. And I agree. But there’s no sense in us giving him false trails to follow. If Lucy has nothing to add to the investigation, then we don’t need to mention her name.”
They got out of the car and followed the sidewalk to the driveway of the house where Lucy had said she was staying. She’d asked them to come to the side door. Trees, shrubs, and flowers made the velvety lawn a showplace, and looking at it gave Rachel a few ideas for giving Stone Mill House a bit more year-round color.
A path led to a stone patio and an oversized blue door with an elegant bronze knocker. A basket of fresh flowers hung from a small, glazed, multipaned window. Evan rang the doorbell. He waited, then rang it again. Rachel waited, trying not to show how nervous she felt. What if Lucy had changed her mind and decided not to talk to them at all? A minute passed and then two more. There was no answer. Evan glanced back at her. “Did we blow it?” he asked.
Just then, the door swung open.
“Lucy?” Rachel asked the young woman standing there. She looked vaguely familiar. Maybe. Things had been crazy when Rachel first moved back to Stone Mill; she couldn’t honestly remember if she’d ever met Lucy or not.
“Yes, I’m Lucy Zug.” She was a plain girl with full, ruddy cheeks, brown hair pulled back severely into a knot at the nape of her neck, and large hazel eyes. She was dressed in a navy shirtwaist dress and white canvas boat shoes. She hugged herself protectively, thin elbows pressed tightly against her flat chest, fingers locked into fists.
Evan introduced himself and then Rachel.
Lucy’s voice was high and reedy. “Can we talk outside, Officer? If any of the neighbors saw you, I wouldn’t want Professor or Mr. Thornford to think I had people in when they weren’t at home.” She stepped out, leaving the door open behind her. “Baby Evelyn is sleeping,” she explained. “I’ll hear her if she wakes up.” Lucy’s English was precise, but she still retained her Pennsylvania Dutch accent, and that endeared her to Rachel.
“I call myself Lucy Baker here, but that’s not against the law, is it?”
“We aren’t here to cause any problem for you.” Rachel knew the girl had to be scared. It had taken Rachel years to become comfortable in her new skin after she left the Amish. “We’re simply trying to—”
“I know why you’re here. Enosh called me this afternoon, just before you did. He said you wouldn’t tell my family where I am.”
“We won’t,” Rachel assured her.
“Professor Thornford and Mr. Thornford know my real name. They’re very understanding, but I don’t think they’d like it if they knew police were here questioning me. At their house, I mean. They’re very protective of Baby Evelyn.” She smiled nervously. “First child. Lucky for me that I’m used to babies.”
“You have lots of brothers and sisters?” Rachel asked.
“Oldest of nine.” She waved stiffly toward a table and chairs. “Would you like to sit down, sir?” She balanced lightly on the balls of her feet, almost as if it took all her effort to keep from floating off the ground. “I don’t know what I can tell you. About Beth.” Distress showed on Lucy’s face. “Who would do such a thing to her? She was such a good girl. Everyone knew how kind and hardworking she was. Pretty, too.”
“We won’t sit,” Evan said. “We just have a few questions and then we’ll be on our way. We’re trying to find out where Beth was in the time she was gone from Stone Mill. Did you see her? Hear from her or anyone who might have come in contact with her?”
Lucy shook her head and glanced behind her to the open door. “I never saw her or heard anything about her. I told Enosh that. Beth and I were never friends or anything. Different church districts.”
Evan looked frustrated. “Do you know any of the other girls who left the Amish community recently?” He read the names from a little notebook he carried in his pocket.
“Ne. I mean, ya—yes, I knew who they were. But I didn’t even know they had left.” Lucy’s thin voice trembled.
“You can’t help us at all?” Rachel asked. The girl was clearly shaken by their coming, but whether she honestly didn’t know anything or was reluctant to talk to them, Rachel couldn’t tell. It made her feel bad that they’d upset Lucy so. She looked as if she was about to burst into tears at any moment.
A loud wail rose from inside the house. “Baby Evelyn!” Lucy exclaimed. “I have to pick her up. Professor Thornford doesn’t like her to cry. She says it’s emotionally damaging for an infant when their needs are left unfulfilled.” She threw Rachel a desperate look. “Please, is there anything else? I’m sorry that happened to Beth, but I really don’t know anything about any of the others.”
The baby’s howl rose to a full cry. Lucy backed toward the door. “You won’t say anything to the Thornfords, will you? I don’t want to lose this job.”
“I see no reason to.” Rachel reached into the bag on her shoulder. “I’m going to leave you my phone number. If you think of anything, no matter how small, that you think might help us, please don’t hesitate to call.” She handed the girl a business card with the B&B’s number on it. “One more thing. When you left home, did you have help? Finding a place to stay? Assisting you to find work?”
“Ne. I left on my own. Nobody helped me.” Lucy accepted the card but held it as if it were hot enough to cause blisters on her fingertips. “I really have to go, Officer.”
Evan thanked her, but the door was already closing. Together, Rachel and Evan walked back down the sidewalk.
“So, where does that leave us?” Rachel asked as they walked back to the Jeep through the gathering twilight. A scent of roses wafted on the breeze—heavy, almost cloying.
Evan sighed, obviously frustrated. “Nowhere, other than to cross Enosh and Lucy off the list.”
“But we haven’t found Hannah or Lorraine.”
“They could be anywhere. Even working in a house across the street.” He held out his hand for her keys. “Want me to drive home?”
She handed him the keys and slid into the passenger’s seat. As cooperative as Lucy had seemed, Rachel had sensed she wasn’t quite telling everything she knew. There was something about the pitch of her voice, particularly when she told Evan she had left the Amish on her own, without any help. And neither Lucy nor Enosh had explained how they had known where the other was. It was an unanswered question that worried her like a loose thread on her new jeans.