Into the Fury (BOSS, Inc. #1)(59)

Farther down the road, a wooden house with a porch extending off the front boasted a sign that read BAKERY. Ethan slowed and eased the car off the lane, careful not to stir up dust.

As they had before, both of them climbed out into the heat, the air damp and thick, making it difficult to breathe. She had chosen comfortable clothes: loose jeans, a short-sleeved, pale blue V-necked T-shirt, and sneakers, and she was very glad she had.

They knocked on the door, which was open, and a petite, gray-haired woman in full Amish dress—long gray skirt and blouse, white apron, white bonnet with the strings hanging down—walked up to the other side of the screen. The windows in the house were also open. Clearly, there was no air-conditioning.

The tiny woman spoke through the screen door. “May I help you?”

Ethan gave her a friendly smile. “I hope so. My name is Ethan Brodie. I’m a private investigator.” He pulled out his ID badge and flipped it open. “I’m looking for a man. He might have lived here ten, maybe fifteen years ago. There’s a chance he’s involved in a murder.”

As he had done at the other houses, he was being completely up-front, laying the facts out very clearly. Val had a feeling he was taking the right approach with people who lived such a straightforward, simple existence.

“This is a friend,” he said, easing her forward. “She’s helping me with the case. Her name is Valerie Hartman.”

She hadn’t heard her real name in so long it sounded foreign. She liked the way Ethan had said it that morning. At least he knew who she actually was.

“Please come in.” The woman stepped back to invite them into the wood-frame house. “I’m Mrs. Bruckner. It’s very warm today. Would you care for a glass of lemonade?”

“That sounds wonderful,” Val said, fighting an urge to fan herself as she began to really feel the heat.

The woman smiled and headed into the kitchen off the living room, her long gathered skirt floating around her ankles. The smell of yeast and cinnamon filled the air, making Val’s mouth water.

Through the opening, she could see a simple sink in a long wooden counter, the shelves underneath covered by a pretty yellow curtain. There was a small refrigerator off to one side. She had read somewhere that most groups used electricity, but there were certain rules they had to follow.

The woman returned with the lemonade, which was cold, homemade, and refreshing. Ethan took a long swallow, the muscles in his throat moving up and down. Why that looked so sexy Val couldn’t possibly guess.

“Tastes great,” Ethan said. “Thanks.” He didn’t try to hurry the conversation. Val had a feeling he thought the lady was about to tell him something important.

“Why don’t we sit down?” Mrs. Bruckner suggested. She carried her own glass into the living room, then went back and got a tray of chocolate cookies. They sat down on a dark green overstuffed sofa and chairs situated around a newer, wood-burning cast-iron stove. A hooked rug in green and gold covered the spotlessly clean wooden floors.

Val couldn’t resist sampling one of the cookies. Ethan took one, too, and munched it down. They were buttery, chocolatey, and delicious.

“It really isn’t my place to talk to you about Byron,” the little woman said. “Normally, my husband would do that. But as I’m recently widowed, I have no other choice.”

“We’re very sorry to hear about your husband, Mrs. Bruckner,” Val said for both of them, meaning it, thinking how difficult losing a lifelong mate must be.

“Thank you. Now that you understand my circumstances, I feel it’s my duty to tell you what I know. I pray the man you are seeking isn’t Byron Mahler, but I feel no loyalty to him anymore.”

Ethan made no comment. Letting Mrs. Bruckner set the pace, he took a sip of his lemonade.

“Byron Mahler was born at his parents’ home in Ohio. His mother and father were good Amish farmers who moved to Texas to begin a settlement. With the weather and the harsh landscape it was very difficult, and a number of the families left the area. Jacob Mahler refused to give up. One day, Ruth Mahler, Byron’s mother, just up and left. She abandoned her husband and son and never returned.”

The small woman’s hand shook as she took a sip of her lemonade. “Byron changed after that. He was twelve at the time, just beginning to discover girls. After his mother left, he was bitter toward women of any age. He felt they were nothing but worthless creatures put on the earth to do a man’s bidding, particularly his. He began to pick on the younger girls in school. Several times he took liberties with their persons. His father tried to intervene, but disciplining Byron only made him worse.”

“What happened?” Ethan asked when she didn’t continue.

“When he was fifteen, there was a girl, a lovely young woman a year younger than Byron. He cornered her out in the barn and tried to rape her. Her brother stumbled onto him or he would have succeeded.”

“Fifteen.”

“That’s right. There was a meeting after it happened. A very harsh punishment was handed out. Byron took the punishment, but he refused to apologize to the girl. He said her sinful ways were to blame for his actions. He was forced to leave. His father tried to get him help with friends in other communities, but Byron just disappeared. No one has seen him since.”

“Is his father still around?”

“No. Jacob built furniture. He taught his craft to Byron, but Jacob died a few years after his son left home.”