Where Shadows Meet(21)

Matt retreated. “Don’t disturb him until forensics gets here. Call it in.”

Blake nodded and stepped back into the clearing. Matt tuned out his partner’s yammering on the radio and glanced around the wooded area. A few fallen maple trees stretched across a dry stream. Newly sprouted leaves danced in the wind, and a brilliant cardinal fluttered over his head.

Nothing else stirred. Considering the strong odor and the flies, the perp was long gone. He needed to talk to the guy who found the body. The man had been too freaked-out to wait for their arrival. He had given his name, address, and phone number, though. That would be Matt’s first stop when he was finished here.

Blake’s heavy footsteps tromped back through the brush. “They’re on their way. Weird case. Wasn’t there something similar some years back?”

Matt nodded. “An Amish man and woman were poisoned. Their only kid, a daughter, found them. This setup looks the same. Except their bodies were covered with a quilt.”

“Were there any leads?”

“We found a neighbor dead from the same poison he’d supposedly used on the family. Though it never made sense to me. I was never sure the guy we found dead was the killer. I think he might have been another victim. The case is still open, but we never found a motive—or the quilts stolen from the family’s home.”

“What happened to the daughter?”

“She married the detective in charge of the investigation and left town.” Matt’s voice grew clipped. He should have tracked them down. He was still mad about Reece’s rude departure. And the gun he’d never returned.

Blake jerked a thumb toward the body. “You think it’s connected?”

The thought had been hovering in Matt’s head. “It’s been ten years. You’d think the killer would have kept on killing.” If they were connected, maybe he’d be able to close two cases at once.

Blake’s cell phone rang, and he pulled it out.

Blake answered the phone. “Hi, honey.”

Matt listened with half an ear. It was probably Matt’s sister, Gina, Blake’s wife. He stooped and studied the ground for clues.



SPEAKERS BLARED OUT the names of passengers with messages waiting for them. Her cell phone in her hand, Hannah sipped her latte in the LaGuardia Airport. The show had gone well, but she was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to sleep in her own bed tonight. Angie had gone to the restroom, and Hannah toyed with the idea of calling Luca. He’d be shocked to hear from her. Maybe he’d heard of her book. She hoped not, though, knowing that by writing it she broke every principle of Hochmut.

The concept of self-promotion was alien to the Amish. Her cousin would be grieved to know she even had a publicist and sought to promote herself and her book. He would tell her to let God be her publicist or, better yet, to choose a career that didn’t put her in the limelight. Luca and Hannah’s father had built their greenhouse business by providing good service to the community. They’d never taken out an ad in their lives.

Her hands shook as she called the number. She’d never forgotten it, though ten years had passed since she’d spoken with anyone at that number. Settling the phone against her ear, she took another sip of her hot coffee to wet her dry throat. What would she say?

The phone continued to ring until the answering machine in the greenhouse picked up and Luca’s familiar voice instructed her to leave a message. She hung up without doing it. This was a conversation they needed to have in person.

She watched the people walking past. Mothers with children clinging to their hands, fathers carrying babies. Her heart ached with emptiness. How ironic that all she’d been taught since childhood focused on the importance of family and community, and now here she was at thirty-two without anyone. No close friends other than Angie, who was an employee. Oh, she had acquaintances from the quilting society and at the museum, but no one she could pour out her heart to. No one who understood why she kept herself aloof.

Sometimes she didn’t understand herself. It should be easy to put down the wall and make herself vulnerable again. But it wasn’t. Living with Reece had shown her how a mask could hide the real person. Trust was hard to find, maybe because she’d never been able to let go of the bitterness and anger she felt toward Reece. And toward Cyrus Long, who had ruined her life. If her parents had lived, she never would have been brazen enough to run off with Reece.

Her life would be so different today.



SOME DAYS, LIFE had a way of mocking him. The first day of the investigation had turned up nothing, and all Matt wanted was to take pizza home to his daughter and watch VeggieTales after the sitter left. But when he pulled into the driveway, he saw Gina sitting on the porch swing with Caitlin. Every marriage had conflicts, and she needed to work out hers with Blake, not run to him with every little problem.

He stifled a sigh and got out of his SUV. “Hey, girls,” he said, smiling down at his daughter. She was the one bright spot in a world gone gray three years ago, when Analise died.

“I brought pizza,” Gina said. Her smile was tentative, as though she feared he would be upset.

“I was craving it.” He ruffled the top of his daughter’s hair. “You got a hug for old Dad?” When Gina was around, Caitlin had eyes for no one else. Poor kid missed her mother’s touch.

Nothing was said about why Gina had come until two hours later, after Caitlin had been bathed and put to bed. “Spill it,” he said when he came back to the living room where Gina sat with Ajax’s head on her lap.