Page 69 of Breaking Silence

“Looks like one of the big timbers fell on him. Probably knocked him unconscious.”

Or pinned him, I think. Images fly at me. A man trapped, screaming, as the flames cook him alive … Rising abruptly, I grab my parka off the back of my chair. “I’m going to go talk to the family.”

“I already did.”

The words stun me. Notifying next of kin is one responsibility I have never delegated, never shirked in any way. That Tomasetti would do that for me brings forth an unwanted rush of emotion so strong that for a moment I can’t speak.

“Kate? You okay?”

I clench my jaws, stave off the tears waiting at the gate. “How’s his wife?”

“You know. Pretty broken up. But her father’s with her. He was going to try to get the bishop out there.”

“Damn it, Tomasetti, I want this son of a bitch. I think I could kill him with my bare hands.”

“You might just get your chance,” he says. “I think we might have our first break.”

“Solid?” I’m almost afraid to get my hopes up.

“CSU found a can of Skoal at the scene. Hasn’t been there long.”

“Amish kids have been known to sneak dipping tobacco.”

“We questioned them separately and away from their parents. None of them claims the can. If we can lift some latents and we get a hit, we might have a name.”

Mentally, I shift gears, grasp hold of the last shred of optimism. “How long will that take?”

“We couriered it to the lab. Maybe late this afternoon if I call in some favors.”

“Do whatever it takes.”

“You know I will.”

“Any prints on the rifle?” I ask.

“Not even a smudge.”

“Someone was being careful.”

“Maybe.” He sighs. “Glock get anything on the dark pickups?”

“He’s still working on it. Nothing yet.” The phone jingles again. I look down and see all four lines blinking. “I’ve got to go.”

“You want to grab some lunch later?” he asks.

“I’d like that.” I end the call and hit the first blinking light. “Burkholder.”

“Katie.” It’s Bishop Troyer, and his usually unflappable voice is harried. “Mose has been injured.”

Concern steamrolls over me. “What happened?”

“One of the Slabaugh boys rode the horse over to my place. He was very upset. He says Mose has been beaten.”

“Beaten?” The news jolts me. “How badly is he hurt?”

“I do not know.”

“Who did it?”