Tyler Hart worked out of a barn. At least I think he did. There wasn’t a sign, but the address was right. Becky and I stood outside the white barn, waiting for the attorney to reply to my knock.
“Are you sure this is the right place?” Becky asked. “Maybe that GSP thing broke in the crash.”
“The GPS is working fine, and this is the address he gave me.”
“It’s a barn.”
Just then, the barn door slid open. A stocky man a few inches taller than I grinned at us. “You much be Chloe and Becky.” He laughed his Santa laugh. “Don’t worry, you are in the right place. Come on inside.”
The outside of the structure may have resembled a barn, but the inside had been completely transformed into a respectable office. The ceiling’s exposed wooden beams were the only rustic remnant inside.
“Thanks for coming all the way out here. The farm belonged to my grandfather. I inherited it when he passed away seven years ago. I never thought much of manual labor, but I saw the barn’s potential for a law office.”
“Is it hard being so far away from town?” I asked.
“It’s only seven miles as the crow flies, and the location hasn’t hurt my business. Then again, my clients would rather others in town not know they need a criminal lawyer.” He pointed to a seating area that I suspected used to be a horse pen. “Let’s get started.”
Becky sat on the edge of her high-back armchair and clasped her small hands tightly in her lap.
“Before you got here, I read all the newspaper coverage of the accident, and I called your public defender, Becky, to get his take on the case. I have to say he was not especially helpful and seemed relieved when I said I was considering taking your case.” He leaned forward. “But I want to hear everything from the beginning from you. From the moment you decided to take the car until the collision.”
Becky looked to me, and I nodded to let her know it was okay.
As she spoke, I examined the lawyer. He had light brown hair, blue eyes, and he wore black plastic-rimmed glasses that made him look more like a high school chemistry professor moonlighting as a body builder. As Becky spoke, he tapped notes into his tablet.
Tyler examined his notes, then looked up. “The police said that the brake line was cut.”
“Yes,” I answered. “They believe the cut was recent, at least since the last time I had driven the RAV4.”
He peered at me over his glasses. “When was that?”
I thought for a minute. “Last Wednesday was the last time. After work.”
“Where did you go?”
“The small market in Appleseed Creek. Becky and I went grocery shopping.”
“Did you see anything out of the ordinary? When you came out of the grocery store was anyone hanging around your car?”
“No. Becky, did you notice anything?”
She shook her head.
Tyler sat back. “The good news is the police have decided not to charge Becky with vehicular manslaughter.”
“Chief Rose already told us that.”
His eyebrows shot up. “You’ve spoken to Greta?”
“Yes.” More often than I would have liked to.
“Does she have any suspects?”
“She did, but they have an alibi.” I told him about Curt and Brock.
“I know them well.”
I pulled back.
“Don’t worry,” he said with that Santa Claus laugh, “I’ve never represented either of them.”
I relaxed. “What kind of charges will Becky face?” I reached over and squeezed my young friend’s hand, and she in turn gave me a brave smile.
“She is charged with driving without a license, without insurance, and there is a chance she can be charged with auto theft.”
“But she didn’t steal the car. I told the sheriff and the police chief that.”
He adjusted his glasses. “Did you give her permission to drive it?”
“No, of course not.”
He replaced the cover on this tablet. “It’s up to the prosecutor, then.”
I bit the inside of my lip.
“Don’t worry. If you are unwilling to press charges about Becky taking the car, it’s not likely he will charge her.”
“What happens now?” Becky’s voice quavered.
“I decide whether or not to take the case.” He remained silent for a full minute.
I glanced at Becky, then again at Tyler. “Well?”
A smile broke across his face. “I’ll take it. I can’t turn down a friend of Billy’s.”
Billy and I were barely acquaintances, but I didn’t correct him.
“Now, we need to devise a strategy.”
“A strategy?” What is this, playing chess?
He leaned his chin on his fist as he thought. “My advice is to plead guilty to driving without a license and without proper insurance.”
“I am guilty,” Becky whispered.
“What will happen if she pleads guilty?”
“The judge may be more lenient. I’m not sure though. I know all the prosecutors in this county.” He laughed. “Not all of them like me, but they respect me. I will ask for probation and community service. Also, I can guarantee you won’t be able to apply for a driver’s license in the foreseeable future.”
“I’ll never drive again,” Becky mumbled.
“What kind of community service will it be?” I asked.
“It can vary, but don’t worry, there are many options, and we will find what Becky might enjoy.”
I allowed myself a deep breath. “What’s your fee?”
“I’ll take this one pro bono.”
Becky’s brow knit together.
I caught eyes with her. “He means he won’t charge us anything.”
Becky’s shoulders relaxed.
I was skeptical. “That’s kind of you, but why would you do that?”
He smiled. “My grandfather, the one who left me this farm, grew up Amish. Since I’m no use in farming, this is something he’d want me to do.”
Tyler removed the cover from his tablet. “Chloe, I want you to go home and write down everywhere your vehicle might have been over the last week and a half. Even if you stopped at the post office for two minutes, I want to know about it.” He pointed at Becky with the edge of his tablet. “I want you to write down everywhere you’ve been in the last week and a half. I want to know who you think might have a reason to sabotage Chloe’s car.”
“I haven’t gone many places,” Becky said.
“Everything counts. Did you tell anyone you planned to borrow Chloe’s car last Friday.”
Becky rung her hands.
“Did you, Becky?” I asked.
“I told my sister Ruth. She called the house from the shed phone. The phone is only for business or emergencies, and she surprised me when she called. I saw Ruth in town the Tuesday before the accident and gave her the number in case of emergency.” She paused. “Ruth’s upset I left home. She said I abandoned her.”
The phone call was news to me. “When did she call?”
“Thursday, while you were at work.”
“And you told her about your interview?” Tyler asked.
Becky nodded. “I didn’t mean to tell her. It just came out. I wanted to show her I was doing okay.”
“She didn’t see a problem with it?” I asked.
Becky flinched. “She knew I could drive. My friend Isaac taught me.”
“Isaac Glick?” Tyler asked.
Becky nodded.
Tyler wrote something down. “Would she tell anyone?”
“Who would she tell? She’s only twelve,” Becky said.
“You need to find out if she told anyone.” He plopped his pen into the holder on his desk. “It could have something to do with the accident.”
“Ruth would only talk to someone in the district.”
“Do you think that person who tampered with my car was Amish?” I asked.
Tyler shrugged. “We can’t rule it out at this point.” He leaned forward, his hands clasped on his desk. “It’s too circumstantial that the intended victim was the bishop. It’s too unlikely the car and buggy would converge on Butler Road at the exact same time. My gut feeling is one or both of you was the intended victim. The question is, was the saboteur’s intention to scare you or hurt you?”
I tasted blood from biting down on the inside of my lip too hard.
Outside, Becky closed the door to the Prizm carefully so that the duct-taped side mirror would not fall off again. “Let’s just go to the farm and ask Ruth if she told anyone.”
I sighed. “It’s not that easy.”
“What do you mean? It’s suppertime. Everyone will be home now. Mamm would love to feed us.”
“Your father doesn’t want us there.”
“Why not?”
I told her what happened when Timothy and I stopped by the farm on Monday. Tears gathered in the corners of Becky’s eyes, and she turned her head toward the window.
“Your family loves you. I’m sure this is hard for them. The deacon forced them to choose between you and the district.”
“They chose the district.” The hurt in her voice cut deep. It was the hurt of a rejected child. I knew it well.
“If they loved me, they would help me. Instead, they’ve turned their backs on me.”
I didn’t know what else to say.
She took a deep breath. “If Daed won’t let Ruth speak to me, call Timothy. He can talk to Ruth.” Her tone was bitter. “They still accept him.”
“Timothy was in Sunbury today. I’ll talk to him when I see him tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow? What are you doing tomorrow?”
I told her about Timothy’s and my meeting with Hettie Glick. “Tomorrow, we are going to Columbus to talk to the developer.”
“Why can’t I go?”
I started the car. “We’re leaving before you get off work.”
“That’s right. I forgot.” She wiped her face with a handkerchief. “What’s going on between you and my brother?”
I watched her out of the corner of my eye. “What do you mean?”
“You’re spending a lot of time with him.”
I kept my eyes on the road. “To help you.”
Becky leaned back in her seat. The duct tape holding the headrest together squeaked. “I’d watch out for Hannah if I were you.”
My body tensed. “What does any of this have to do with Hannah?”
She frowned. “Forget I mentioned her.”
That made me worry even more. I opened my mouth to ask her what she meant, but her expression, reflected in the window, was crestfallen, so I decided to drop it. For now.
We were silent for a few minutes, then Becky started squirming in her seat.
“Are you okay?”
“I was thinking about what Mr. Hart said, about me needing to write down everything I’ve done the last few days and everywhere I’ve been. It reminded me of something.”
“What?”
A loud sigh escaped her. “Ruth wasn’t the only one I told about my interview.”
We were approaching the square. The center of the town was empty and many of the Amish and English shops were already closed for the day. An elderly Amish man in plain clothes and a young English man in shorts and a T-shirt strolled down the street, chatting with each other.
I took my eyes off the road for a second. “Who did you tell?”
“Hannah,” she whispered.
I nearly drove off the road. The men glared at me as my tires screeched on the pavement. I took a deep breath. One car accident at a time was more than enough to deal with.
We drove in silence until I pulled into our driveway and shifted the Prizm into park. It shook, then settled. “When?”
Becky didn’t answer me. She stared straight ahead.
“Becky, when did you talk to Hannah?”
“Isaac is here.”
Through the windshield, I saw Isaac sitting on the uneven front steps of our house. His eyes downcast, he held his black felt hat in his hands and waited.