Page 42 of Fallen

“No closer than any bishop and a member of his congregation.”

I nod, look around, let the silence ride a moment. “So, you read her book?”

“What I could stomach.”

“Then you know Rachael claimed the two of you had a relationship.”

“I’m aware of that untruth.” Another flash of pseudo amusement, darker this time, laced with anger. “The book was full of blasphemous lies. About me. My brethren. Written by a disgruntled and confused woman who in the end sold her soul for whatever the publisher paid her.”

“You must have been angry,” I say.

He gives me a pitying look, but there’s an unsettling glint in his eyes. Buried beneath all that righteousness and calm lies a cunning and indescribable menace that chills me, despite the .38 strapped to my hip.

“I hold no anger toward anyone,” he tells me. “That’s not our way. Rachael Schwartz hot net der glaase.” Didn’t keep up the faith. “She made many unfounded and painful accusations. She tried to hurt those who only wanted to help. Yes, the police investigated, but then you already know that, don’t you, Kate Burkholder?”

“I do.”

A ghost of a smile touches his lips. “It was a painful time for all of us.”

“When’s the last time you had any contact with Rachael?” I ask.

“I haven’t spoken to her since the day I asked her to leave.”

“What about letters?” I ask.

“Ah.” His mouth curls in such a way that I can’t tell if it’s a smile or a snarl or something in between. The one thing I do know is that it’s an unpleasant mien and it’s focused on me.

“You obviously know I wrote to her. Simply to ask her to stop lying about us. Leave us be in peace.”

“Did it escape your mind that you also threatened her?”

“A false witness shall not be unpunished, and he that speaketh lies shall perish,” he tells me. “In case you’re not well versed, and I suspect you are not, that passage is from the Bible. I thought it might help her see the error of her ways. That’s all.”

“Where were you night before last?” I ask.

“Here, of course.” He spreads his hands, encompassing the area around him.

“Can anyone substantiate that?”

“My wife. A few of the others here in our community.” He recites two names.

I pull out my notebook and write them down.

When I look up, he’s tilted his head, looking at me as if I’m some fascinating science project. Some small animal that’s about to be dissected by a kid who enjoys cutting a little too much. “I understand you’re fallen, too, Chief Burkholder. Perhaps you have something to confess as well.”

For an instant, I’m startled that he knows I’m formerly Amish. Quickly, I settle, reminding myself that Painters Mill isn’t far from Killbuck. That gossip has wings. And that he probably knew at some point I’d drive down and talk to him.

Taking my time, I drop the notepad and pen into my pocket. “I appreciate your time,” I say.

And I walk away.

CHAPTER 19

I’ve just entered the corporation limit of Painters Mill when my cell lights up. Seeing HOLMES CNTY CORONER on the dash display, I hit ANSWER. “Hey, Doc.”

“I’ve completed the autopsy of Rachael Schwartz. Report is in the works, but since time is of the essence, I thought you’d want to hear my findings,” he says.

“Cause and manner of death?” I ask.