Page 62 of The Burning

“He recognized you, though?”

“He called me by name.”

“What exactly did he ask of you?” Chambers continues, not because he doesn’t recall my earlier account, but because he wants the others—namely Auggie—to hear it again.

“He said something to the effect—and I’m paraphrasing—that my silence was my sacrifice to make.”

“That mean anything to you?” Rasmussen asks.

“Not a thing.”

“You mentioned before,” Rasmussen says, “that you think he’s Amish or formerly Amish?”

I nod. “The accent is Amish-like, but I don’t think he’s from this area.”

“Any idea where he might be from?” the sheriff asks.

“With the Pennsylvania plates, maybe Lancaster County,” I reply. “Hard to say.”

Chambers doesn’t do a very good job of hiding his smirk. “You’re certain this man wasn’t your brother?”

It’s not only a bad joke, but a personal dig designed to spur my temper. I keep my cool, but I know where he’s going to take this. I know why we’re here. I know why the mayor is here. I know why I’m being asked to repeat information no one needs to hear a second time.

“As I said before, I didn’t recognize him,” I say.

Looking smug, Chambers glances at Rasmussen.

The sheriff scowls. “Just so you know, we’re going to talk to your brother tomorrow, Kate.”

“That’s your prerogative.” Of course, their insistence upon doing something that I’ve already done makes a clear statement: They don’t trust me to do my job.

As if reading my thoughts, he adds, “We don’t have a choice, Kate. Your brother is now a person of interest. In light of the alleged argument, he has a motive for wanting Swanz dead.”

The urge to argue rattles its chain inside me, but I hold my tongue.

“It’s late,” Tomasetti says from his place at the door. “We’re tired. I think we’re done here.”

“One more thing.” Chambers clears his throat, then sends a pointed look to the mayor. “Mayor Brock?”

For the first time, I realize all of them—minus Tomasetti—have already discussed how this is going to end, and I experience a twinge of anxiety.

When Auggie only continues to stare back at him, Chambers sits up a little straighter. “Mayor Brock,” he says. “I’ve made my recommendation to you. That’s all I can do at this point. The rest is up to you. In all fairness, I think taking the actions we discussed is the most equitable way to handle this.”

Looking uncomfortable, Auggie scoots his chair forward, folds his hands in front of him, and finally meets my gaze. “I’d like to preface by saying none of this is a reflection on Chief Burkholder’s competence, her leadership, or her character.”

“What are you talking about, Auggie?” My voice comes out surprisingly strong and crisp and I have no idea how I managed because I’m shaking inside.

The mayor looks around as if hoping for approving nods from everyone in the room. The only one he gets comes from Chambers. “We think it’s best for the investigation and the township if you took a break from this case, Kate.”

“Take a break?” I repeat dumbly. “What the hell does that mean?”

The mayor raises his hand, trying to look as if he’s in command. He only manages to look ridiculous and weak and everyone in the room knows he doesn’t have the balls to say what he’s been asked to say.

“This isn’t about you personally or professionally,” Auggie continues. “This is about perceptions. The citizens of Painters Mill are uneasy about this murder and understandably so. Because of your brother’s possible involvement and your connection to the Amish—”

“It hasn’t been determined that my brother is involved,” I say.

He cuts me off. “Like I said, this is about public perception. Not you or your capabilities.”