Page 18 of The Burning

CHAPTER 5

I roll to a stop at Dogleg Road to see that the Holmes County Sheriff’s Office has blocked the intersection. I lower my window and flash my shield at the deputy standing guard and he waves me through. I spot Tomasetti’s Tahoe as I park behind the BCI crime scene van. I’ve just gotten out when someone calls out to me.

“Chief!”

I glance over my shoulder to see Tomasetti striding toward me. Despite the circumstances, the sight of him sends a small thrill up the center of my back.

We meet next to his Tahoe. I see him glance toward the trees where the lights of the crime scene team flicker. There’s another deputy walking toward the tree line, but his back is to us. Leaning close, Tomasetti brushes his lips against mine.

“You’re a sight for sore eyes,” he says.

“You, too.” I kiss him back, take in the familiar scent of his aftershave, the smell that is distinctively his.

Sighing, he straightens, takes a step back. “You know this is highly inappropriate between a police chief and BCI agent.”

“I won’t tell if you don’t.”

A smile whispers across his features, but he sobers quickly, slips back into professional mode as he looks toward the crime scene. “How did the notification go?”

I recap my conversations with Bertha Swanz and the parents. “I got a bit of an odd vibe.”

“How so?”

“Neither his ex-wife nor his parents seemed terribly broken up when I told them about Swanz.”

His gaze narrows on mine. “Seems odd.”

“I thought so, too. I mean, it’s not unusual for the Amish to be a little more reserved, but in this case they seemed almost … aloof. Granted, Swanz and his wife were divorced, but for his parents to be so subdued. It was strange.”

“Especially since you got similar reactions from both parties,” he says.

“I’m getting the impression Swanz’s relationships were complicated.”

“How so?”

“Evidently, he had some problems with his employer.” I tell him about the fire and Swanz being terminated. “There’s a best friend, Clarence Raber down in Coshocton, who might be helpful to talk to.”

I notice the work lights set up on the gravel pullover. “You guys find anything?”

“I think we’ve got tire-tread imprints.”

“You know Mona and Skid and I were parked on the shoulder.”

“We marked their tracks as well as yours straightaway.” He motions toward the work lights. “A little farther down, there’s a short two-track with enough room for a vehicle to pull nose-in. Agent spotted tire impressions there when we did the grid search. One of the techs is trying to cast them now.”

“Snow probably isn’t helping.”

“Doubt if we’ll be able to get a decent plaster, but worth a shot.”

I want to see the crime scene. I want to walk it. Study every square inch of it. I want to know what’s being done, what’s been found. If there’s anything new. I have enough experience to know that during this early phase of the investigation it’s extremely important to limit the number of people allowed.

“I’m going to run by the cabinet shop where Milan Swanz worked.” I need to speak to Clarence Raber, too, but in light of the suspicious fire and termination, his employer comes first. “Do you have time to run over there with me?”

“Not much to do here until the scene is processed. Evidence is being couriered and expedited, but we’re still going to have to wait for it.”

“In that case, I’ll drive.”

The village of Killbuck is a scenic twenty-minute drive from Painters Mill. Stutzman’s Cabinetry and Woodworking is located on a side street just off of US 62 due east of the village proper.