Page 76 of Fallen

“Rachael is with God now.” Dan’s eyes remain glued to the floor. “At peace with the Lord.”

“We’ve made all the notifications already,” Rhoda tells me, referring to the Amish tradition of personally notifying those who will be invited to the funeral.

She raises shimmering eyes to mine. “We didn’t see her much anymore. But we’re going to miss her. And of course we take comfort in knowing that she’s in good hands, and that one day we will join her.”

“A man should not grieve overmuch,” Dan says, “for that is a complaint against God.”

Rhoda swipes at the tears on her cheeks. “Last time we talked, Katie, you asked me when we saw Rachael last. I realized this morning that I told you wrong. She came to see us after Christmas, not before, and we had such a nice visit.” The chuckle that follows rings false. “I remembered because she’d been over to Loretta’s that morning and mentioned the cast on little Fannie’s arm.”

I nod, listening more out of politeness than interest.

Rhoda uses her fingers to squeegee tears from her cheeks. “That girl. Christmas day. Broke her arm in two places. Fell off that old windmill over to the Cooper farm next door. Had to get some kind of pin put in to fix it.”

Forcing a smile, she looks down at the knitting in her lap. “She’s not the first girl we’ve known who’s in love with adventure, now, is she? Should have been born a boy, that one.”

The image of Fannie astride the horse and loping across the pasture plays in my mind’s eye. “She must keep Loretta and Ben on their toes.”

“She’s a handful, with all the climbing and horses and such.” She shrugs. “Poor Loretta was just beside herself. Dotes on that girl like she’s newborn.” Rhoda sighs, her face softening. “Anyway, that was the last time I saw my Rachael. After Christmas, not before. I don’t know if that’s even important now, but I wanted you to know.”

She picks up the needles and resumes her knitting.

Something I can’t put my finger on nags at me as I head toward the Bontrager farm. A kink in my gut that wasn’t there before my conversation with Rhoda and Dan. I try to work it out, but nothing comes to me. I set it aside as I make the turn into the lane.

I’m on my way to the front door when voices from the side yard draw my attention. I head that way to find Loretta and Fannie painting a picnic table.

“You two look busy,” I say by way of greeting.

Loretta, paintbrush in hand, looks at me over her shoulder and grins. “That’s one way to put it.”

“I like the teal,” I tell her.

Stepping back, she puts her hands on her hips and studies the table. “I wasn’t too sure at first, but I think I like it, too.”

Fannie, a smaller brush in hand, peeks out at me from around the side of the table. “I picked out the color.”

Despite the purpose of my visit, the sight of the girl makes me smile. She’s got a smudge of paint on her chin. A perfect drop of it on her kapp. Someone will likely be scrubbing it with a toothbrush tonight.

I cross to her, offer her a high five. “Nice job.”

A grin overtakes the girl’s face. There’s a space between her front teeth. A nose tinged pink from the sun. That odd sensation waggles at the back of my brain again, but I shove it aside to deal with later.

“We’ve got an extra paintbrush if you want to help.”

I glance over to see Ben approach from the direction of the barn. He’s wearing a blue work shirt with suspenders, trousers, and a straw flat-brimmed hat.

“I’ll leave it to you professionals.” I sober, let my gaze fall to Fannie, and then I focus on the couple. “I’m sorry to interrupt your afternoon, but I need to talk to you about Rachael Schwartz.”

“Oh.” Loretta tosses a look at her husband, then rounds the table and goes to her daughter. “Just look at that spot of paint on your kapp,” she says. “Why don’t you go in and take that old toothbrush to it before it dries? I’ll be in to help in a few minutes.”

The girl cocks her head, knowing the reason she’s being sent inside has nothing to do with the paint and everything to do with our pending conversation. But she’s too well behaved to balk.

“Use the laundry soap on the porch.” The Amish woman takes the girl’s brush and points her in the direction of the back door. “Go on now before it leaves a stain we won’t be able to get out.”

We watch the girl depart. When I hear the back door slam, I turn to the couple. “There’s been a development in the case. I thought you’d want to know.”

Ben nods. “We heard about the deputy,” he says.

Since Ben and Loretta aren’t family members, I give them a condensed version of the same set of facts I laid out for Dan and Rhoda Schwartz.