CHAPTER THREE

 

“Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil!”  Bishop Yoder repeated the words again and scanned the crowd’s faces to see if they’d gotten the message.  “Are you ready people? Are you ready to meet Jesus? In a blink of an eye, Paul Peachy was grabbed and taken hostage.  The State Troopers, the SWAT Team, and even the Sheriff were in the air and on the ground, but they couldn’t save him.  The US Marshalls parachuted down, but they couldn’t save him.  I’m telling you people: the only true salvation is in believing in Him.”  The Bishop picked the black Bible up and waved it from left to the right of the makeshift church.  “Don’t let it be too late; don’t be standing at the door when He says there is no room.”

“Paul’s Mennonite Minister is on a mission trip in Honduras,” Mary Ann leaned and whispered to Esther before she gently grabbed her left hand and held it. Our bishop was close to the Peachy family.”

Esther nodded and then looked to her right and saw wooden pews full of men in black.  Pews extended back to the back of the old church building.  Light gently touched the red stained glass reminding her of Jesus hanging on the cross.  She closed her eyes and recited, “Thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.”  

Esther’s memory of the man that had abducted Ruth flashed before her eyes.  Ruth had been too little to know what the Twenty-Third Psalms meant to get comfort out of it. “Ruth, you’re safe in the arms of Jesus.  Thy rod and thy staff comforted you.” 

Esther slowly lifted her eyelids, for the Bishop had gotten quiet.  To her surprise as she jerked her eyes to her left, she noticed her mother and her aunt Laura quietly opening their eyes.  The bishop had gotten through to them; they understood that they were shaken, but they weren’t forsaken. 

“Thank you Dear Jesus!”  Esther whispered as Sally, who was sitting directly in front of her started weeping uncontrollably.  Ramona, who was her older sister, handed her some tissues.  Muffled sobs could be heard behind her.  Paul Peachy had been an extremely special man, and he’d touched many a life. 

Her mother gripped her hand, and the bishop continued.  To be going through so much trauma with Graham being sick and losing Mr. Peachy, her mother was like a rock, standing firm in her faith and belief that God was still in control.

Esther blew out a deep breath and bit her lip.  She wasn’t in control, and she had to admit that she’d lost control the day that Ruth had gone missing.  Holding in the guilt for all of these years had been a chore.  She started crying, for it was time to let go of the guilt.  It wasn’t that she wanted to let go but that she had to let go, for Mr. Peachy’s death was a boiling point.  She didn’t want to boil over, so she had to take deep breaths and process her thoughts.  It wouldn’t be easy, for her chest felt full and it hurt.  She brought her hands up to her face and covered it with them. 

“I’ll take it, Ramona.  Thank you,” Mary Ann said as she politely grabbed the tissues from Ramona.  “Here, take these.  It’s okay to cry.”  Mary Ann extended her arm around her daughter.  She knew that the worst was yet to come, for there was a second man aloose, and that man was wearing a black suit and tie and tapping a stolen black pick-up truck with a very old pair of red cowboy boots.  Would they catch him before he killed again?

As the service ended and they made their way to their buggies, Esther leaned against her mamm and sobbed.  There had been a connection the day that she’d told Linda that she was interested in Trey.  Although Esther had said that out of not wanting to lose her job by not picking Trey, she’d convinced her body that she was already a Peachy.  It was like she was losing a father for the second time. 

“Excuse me, Esther,” Trey walked up to Esther as she was wobbling to the buggy.  “Scan the crowd at the burial to see if any of them look like the man that took Ruth.  The Us Marshalls think that he was with Billie Joe Yoder, but he is now on the run.”

“Esther, pay attention and let me know if you see him.  I’ll go grab him,” Mary Ann snapped.   She hated to admit that if she’d got a hold of the man that had abducted and murdered her youngest child, she’d be scared of what she’d do, for she often dreamed of grabbing him and shaking him, asking him why he’d hurt Ruth.  She knew she’d probably never let go of him and never shut up until he brought Ruth back, and since she knew Ruth couldn’t be brought back, that potential out of control behavior scared her.  Love and forgiveness weren’t just recommendations for her community, they were a given.

“That’s not safe Ms. Schwartz,” Trey stressed as he was looking over her shoulder. “Let me know if you spot him, and I will take care of it.  The stained glass is beautiful.  It was courteous of the Baptist Church to let us use it.”

“They have moved?”  Mary Ann asked as the unusually nippy wind bit into her face and dangled her kapp strings.

“Yes, they moved last month, but they haven’t had the time to put the building up for sale.  I heard that a wealthy cowboy from California was looking at turning it into a youth center.”

“Is he coming here, and how much of a cowboy is this man?” Esther remembered the red cowboy boots that the abductor had worn.  She had forgotten to tell her parents about the hot red boots.  She hung her head in guilt. 

“I just remembered something about the intruder.”  Esther turned to her mother, who was admiring the red stained glass.  “He had hot red cowboy boots on.”

“I’m sure that’s not significant, Esther.  A lot of people wear cowboy boots.”  Mary Ann smiled but disagreed.

Trey did agree.  “They say that this owner refuses to come here.  He’s on his death bed and insisting on buying the building via a wire transfer; however, we have heard that he just got back from Europe, so he can’t be that sick.  His name is Tim Earl, and he owns a kids’ wholesale catalog business.”

“I think we’re overreacting,” Mary Ann explained.  “Besides, a wealthy kids’ catalog owner wouldn’t be a child abductor.”

Trey looked at Mary Ann and softly smiled.  ‘I think you’re right.”

*****

 

 

Trey Peachy had a lot on his mind as he drove the black minivan at the front of the funeral procession.  Esther Schwartz meant a lot to him and having a criminal to manage her orchard had been an unfortunate decision. You didn’t know he was a wanted man.”  He was determined to find himself guilty: I should have stayed in touch with Marie when she left the Order. If I had done so, I would have known that Billie Joe had been dead for ten years. 

He tried to listen to his Aunt Margaret talk to his mother in the backseat, but for some reason, Esther Schwartz was taking center stage in his mind.  Truth be told, he’d been thinking that she was the one for a long time.  It wasn’t the little dangling bubbles of blonde hair that he liked to see form along her tanned forehead, and it wasn’t the fact that she had the physical ability to leap in and out of the passenger seat of his old truck that attracted him to her. It was her faith.  How can one fall in love with a girl because of her faith?  He could answer that by working alongside her during troubled times. 

During the unknown corn disease that was attacking all the corn, five years back, she’d stood right there, unpaid, listening to his father and mother around the dinner table. 

Although she’d swung too high in an oak tree and gotten two broken wrists, she still manned the office telephone order system by using her elbows.  She recited every single order into a tape recorder, in which she also used with her elbows. 

When a pack of wild dogs raged the farm one night and killed all of the Rhode Island Reds but one, she had nursed it back to health, and she had shared half of her farm’s Rhode Islands with his family. 

Truth be told, he’d known for four years that she was the one.  He didn’t have to worry about her becoming interested in Amish men from her community because the feeling had been so strong that he knew it was from God, and although they were from different faiths, he knew that God would make a way.  Therefore, he never doubted that she’d become Mrs. Peachy.  Sure, doubts would come knocking, but he was always able to knock his insecurities away with prayer and faith.

He would never tell her, but he’d caught her driving his truck through the open rows between the corn field, and she never went fast.  Was a horse and buggy a better way to go, and if it was, what was he missing by driving a truck?  He’d wedging himself between some tall corn and watched her lean her farm-tanned left arm out the window, resting her head on her left shoulder, letting the fresh breeze hit her face.  Steering with an at-ease right hand grip and half-open eyes, she’d driven the truck through the dirt lane that swept through tall fields of tall sweet corn.  It had seemed like the truck had known it was enjoying the wind and magnificent view of miles of corn, for the engine hadn’t raced, and the tires trekked without any spinning of dirt or loose rocks. 

Of course, he’d never tell her that he’d caught her, for he might embarrass her and run her off.  In fact, he’d never told anyone but his best friend Luke Yoder, who was now a Fish and Wildlife Officer and KET-Kentucky Educational Television, Show Host.  Luke had told him that he’d better change his plans, for her Old Order community was tight-knit, so unless he wanted to become Amish, the plan was flawed.  Trey hadn’t bought his response then, and he wouldn’t buy his response now, for God would intertwine them together somehow.

Trey bit his lip and sighed as he eyed the long black hearse making a sharp left turn into the cemetery.  It was unlike him to shed a tear, but Trey felt a couple of stray pearls of salty water edge out of his right eye and flow down his cheek.  He felt guilty and even unworthy, for he’d always promised his father that he would “get married soon.”   His father had liked Naomi Miller and wanted him to marry her.  Trey had declined the fact that she had been interested in him because of his secret attraction for Esther Schwartz.   Whenever his father would voice his concerns about him hurrying up to start a family, he’d always say, “Father, you’ll have many years to hold my children!’  That would not be the case.   

If only Esther Schwartz hadn’t been so hard to get.  She hadn’t even showed any interest in him.  That’s why he’d finally asked her to consider him; he had to, for he couldn’t risk losing her.  Sure, God would make a way, but somehow he’d gotten a little apprehensive and reacted to that heavy feeling. 

I let you down father, but if you knew why I did it that it was God’s will, you’d understand.  Trey pulled the van on the edge of the paved cemetery and turned the ignition off.  It would be a hard day.

 

*****

 

Esther rolled her top teeth over her bottom lip and held the grip.  Would she see this man’s face?  The man that had taken Ruth had seemed laid-back and friendly.  Would these qualities, which were, unlike a common criminal, make him blend in easily?  She wanted to tell Trey and her mother that she couldn’t do it.  She drew a fist with her right hand and covered it up against her chest with her left hand.  Massaging her right hand and wrist, she tried to stop the impulsive tremble that was trying to take over her hands; she couldn’t do it, so she swung her hands of her hips and dug her restless fingertips into the sides of her black cape dress.

“Esther, you’re like my sister and you are my best friend since Luke left your Order.  I know this is hard for you.  I promise that you won’t have to confront this man if you see him.  We men will handle it, and we have undercover FBI within the crowd.  One female officer is former Mennonite, and she’s in a cape dress with a white kapp and a black bonnet; she is blending in,” Trey whispered.

“What on earth?”  Esther turned her head and leaned into his left ear, “She can’t just wear a cape dress if she’s not Mennonite.  I wouldn’t ask her to do that to find my sister’s killer.”

“Nobody asked her.  They suspect that he killed her sister’s only son in Nashville.  The suspect was seen wearing the hot red boots and black suit and tie like you’d earlier described.”

“Oh No, He killed another child.”  Esther sobbed and fell onto Trey’s chest. He leaned down and held her tightly, wishing that none of this had happened. 

Hearing his strong heartbeat reminded her that the killer hadn’t stopped her heartbeat and although he’d stopped Ruth’s by killing her, he hadn’t destroyed her soul; she’d see her sister and share a mud pie or two in heaven, where the dandelions never die.  She leaned back and took the tissue from him and patted the water of sadness from her red face. 

She looked at him and said, “I can do this, Trey.  I can be strong; I know that I can do this and help catch a child killer.”

“I know that you can, Esther; you’ve always been such a faithful, courageous woman.  Just scan the area and let us know if you see him,” Trey whispered, and she smiled and nodded.

Deep breaths pushed out of her lungs, and she wasn’t scared anymore, and she would do her best to find this madman.  The metal folding chair felt good and refreshing against the back of her thighs as she noticed the trembling going away.  Puffy tanned eyelids half rested as she engulfed more oxygen from the windy, sun-kissed day. 

Looking to the right, she scanned the heavily-packed rows of mourners, but she saw no madman.  It had been years; would he look the same?  Had he finally met his fate at the end of a sheriff’s shotgun, or worse yet, was he killing again? 

She knew that there was an aunt nestled somewhere in the crowd, one that had a Plain past and a torn heart that only one that had been in such a situation would understand.  Could she recognize her?  Probably not, for there were hundreds of mourning guests, donned in dark, swaying cape dresses and bonnets. 

Hundreds of white kapp strings flew in harmony as the wind made its way through the many rows.  To the left, high in the sky, a pack of birds flew in harmony as if the world was a perfect place.  The pack swirled through the blue sky, never losing one of their own.  God, you protect the birds, but you don’t protect our children.  Esther immediately apologized for her rude remark: I’m sorry God.  You’re in control.  I just don’t understand why I’m sitting here, and another cape-dressed woman is sitting here trying to find a child killer.  Losing Paul Peachy in a shoot-out with the madman’s buddy was in itself more than we as a community can handle. God, why did the evil guys win and we Christians lose? Graham hasn’t gotten any better, and they had to cancel their trip to see us.  Why, God?  I am old enough to know not to ask because you won’t answer back, but I just need to vent: I feel sad; I feel angry; I feel afraid, and I’d feel alone if it wasn’t for Trey Peachy.  Thank you for him, God.

Trey Peachy had always been there working alongside her on the farm, and he was an exceptionally hard worker. For some reason, she wanted to get closer to him and learn more about him on a more serious level, and she knew that this was possible since he’d asked her to consider him.  She was considering him, along with some other Amish men. 

She looked forward to getting behind the business wall that he put up when she was working on his farm and in the orchard that his father had given her.  She wanted to know his dreams, how many children he wanted, and most of all, what he thought about a woman that moved at a slower pace than him when at home.  Would he trade in an old but fast faded blue Ford for a slow-trotting team of horses and a buggy?

Her eyes scanned the crowd for the intruder but didn’t find a match.  People had driven from as far as Canada to pay their respects for Paul Peachy.  Young, middle-aged, old and frail, all gathered by the gravesite of an admirable, God-fearing man. 

Her stomach rose as air went deeper into the bottom of her lungs, expanding her diaphragm.  A feeling of relief washed over her.

The killer was not there.

Esther had to admit that she did want him to be found, but she didn’t want to be the one to find him.  There was a fear of him killing her that hung over her head, and he’d almost done that if it hadn’t been for the light rain the night before the abduction.  Surely, he would have gotten her on drier ground.

Esther’s weary eyes rubber-necked and scanned the mourning-crowd. She doubted that she’d ever feel safe or think that her future kinner, or children, would be safe.

“The Lord giveith and the Lord takeith away,” the Bishop explained, and everyone nodded.  “Are you ready to meet Jesus? How is everything in your relationship with God?”

Esther closed her eyes and silently thanked God for sharing Mr. Peachy with her for so many years.  He’d been the ideal boss, the perfect missionary and would have been the perfect father-in-law.  She pouted as several tears drained down her sun-kissed cheeks.  She opened her eyes, which were usually brilliant and crystal clear like the sky’s horizon, but today, in this moment of grief, they were laden with patched of steamy fog.  A total stranger who sat next to her was also sobbing against white tissue. 

The tears rippled through the multitude as the services ended.  A black SUV with tinted windows pulled up at the end of the line of buggies and black cars.  A tall, slender brunette with gold jewelry stepped out of the driver’s side of the SUV, and a shorter bald guy, who was toting a black pistol and a police badge around the sides of his hips, slowly got out of the passenger’s side. 

“Who are they?  It’s a shame that they missed the funeral,” Esther’s mamm sadly stated as she grabbed her daughter’s left elbow tugging her closer to whisper, “Did you see him?”

“No mother, I didn’t see him. I looked over the crowd several times.”

“That would be the case,” her mother made a sound that Esther had never heard and then turned away, and it drew concern from Esther that her mother might need to rest for a couple of days.  She would ask Trey if she could have two days off to care for her mother. 

Esther bit her lip and rolled her eyes.  How on earth could she ask a man for time off when they just had his father’s funeral?  She couldn’t do that, but whom could she ask?  Ever since Ruth’s murder, she’d helped look after her mamm.  She felt overwhelmed and blocked into a corner, and she wanted it all to end.

The Funeral Director walked over and gave a soft, caring smile.  His silver hair glistened under the sun’s rays, and his black suit looked crisp and new.  He extended his left arm out toward her and calmly said, “Esther, would you please come over here with me?  There is someone that needs to talk with you.” 

“Okay.  Thank you for telling me,” Esther politely walked toward him, and she noticed that they were walking toward the cop and tall brunette that leaned with folded arms against the black SUV. 

Making their way past many black buggies and black vehicles, they arrived at the SUV where the cop extended his hand and said, “I’m Agent Cramer, and this is an exceedingly difficult time for me and for you.  I’ve been in FBI Homicide since my kids were in Little League, and I hate child abduction cases.  He cleared his throat as the Funeral Director got closer and cuddled her against his chest.

Esther started crying but managed to blurt out, “The killer’s not here. I couldn’t find him.”

The Agent gave a sympathetic nod and said, “I know because he’s dying at a nearby hospital. He has no brain waves.  He collapsed on the way down here to turn himself in.”  He turned to the brunette and added, “This is his Hospice RN; she’s also his daughter.”

“He has a daughter?”  Esther uttered before she threw her hands up over her face on shock. 

“He’s been the best father, Ms. Schwartz.  He never touched me or my sisters.  I can’t understand why this happened, but I do know that he is truly sorry for it happening,” The brunette explained before she whipped out a key. “He’s giving you the old Baptist church downtown--- the one with the stained glass.  He said that you can do whatever you want to with it and the lake.”

“The lake? There’s no lake downtown, and I don’t want the church.”  Esther brought her left hand up to her face and wiped the frozen tears away.  There was nothing that this lady could say to bring her sister back, and she wanted her to take the key and go away.

“He owns the lake that borders your parents’ farm.”  The brunette said rather quickly.

Esther passed out into the arms of the Funeral Director.