Where Shadows Meet(42)

“I’ll check out the old records. Maybe there will be a lead.”

She gestured to the couch, then curled up in the chair. “Have you reopened the investigation on my family?”

“It was never closed—it just went cold. But yeah, I’m trying to look for similarities. I always thought Long had to have an accomplice.” Her lips pressed together, and he knew who she thought that person had to be. “Tell me again about that night.”

“Reece was late that night. So late that I was attacked in the bridge.”

His head jerked up. “I never heard about that. What happened?”

“He got there in time to run them off.” A slight smile lifted her lips. “Always the rescuer.” She wanted to tell Matt her suspicions about Reece, but maybe it was anger and bitterness, not truth, that made her wonder if Reece could have been her parents’ killer. The more she’d thought about it over the years, the more convinced she’d become.

She eyed Matt. Would he even believe her? “I’ve wondered if Reece had something to do with the murders. Especially after he began to demonstrate his violent side.”

“Long was seen making the cookies,” Matt said.

“What about the symbol on the wall and the quilt?”

“What about it?”

“How did that relate to Cyrus? And what was his motive?”

He shrugged, but uneasiness flickered in his eyes. “I don’t know. We never found a motive or a connection to the peace symbol.”

“Well, I researched it. Wait here a minute.” She got up and went to the bedroom, where she dragged out the folder she’d kept all these years. When she got back to the living room, she opened it and flipped through it. “Here. I found the symbol and the Greek word. The word was anathema.”

“Anathema. Weird word. What’s it mean?”

She knew what it meant firsthand, but she kept her tone cool and clinical, though it took major effort. “It’s a person or thing cursed and devoted to destruction. It can also be a formal ecclesiastical curse involving excommunication. Early on, the Catholic Church adopted the word anathema to signify the exclusion of a sinner from the society of the faithful, but it was pronounced mostly against heretics. And it can mean something that is completely destroyed for the glory of God. I think it’s someone who hates the Amish.”

“And the peace symbol?”

At least he was listening. She flipped to another page and pointed to the symbol. “It’s a peace symbol, like you said. But it’s also called Nero’s Cross. In this case, I think it’s meant as a warning to Christians. Nero used it to symbolize the destruction of Christianity. I think the killer meant it as a warning to exterminate my family.”

His eyes widened. “You mean the symbol we use for peace began as a hate symbol against Christianity?”

She nodded. “It was a visual representation of the way Nero crucified Christians upside down.”

Distaste twisted his mouth. “That’s sick. How did a hate symbol become associated with peace?”

“I don’t know, but let’s get back to the murder. It fits, Matt. Our people have been victims of misguided people for centuries. I don’t expect you to understand.”

His hand closed on the folder. “Can I look at this stuff?”

She didn’t want to let it go. It was the accumulation of years of searching. “Just be careful with it. Could you make copies and get it back to me tomorrow?”

He rose with the folder in his hand. “I’ll go one better. I’ll go to the office and make copies and bring it back tonight.”

He was more perceptive than she’d realized. And kinder than his gruff voice let on. She remembered Reece had taken credit for getting the younger man on at the sheriff’s department. “You knew Reece on the force, right? You were partners?” she asked.

Matt went toward the door without meeting her gaze. “I knew him.”

She caught up with him in the hall. “How well did you know him?”

“Well enough, but that has nothing to do with the investigation.”

Her warm feelings toward him vanished. “It might if it interferes.”

“I’m a professional. My personal life doesn’t intrude on my job.”

She stood her ground when he started to step past her. “If that’s true, then what are you hiding?”

He folded his arms across his chest. “It’s not a big deal, okay? He was a foster kid that my grandmother raised. He came back to visit her sometimes, and I met him there. I was a punk kid with an attitude, and he tried to help me.” His frown deepened. “Which made it hurt all the more when he ran off with you without a word and stole my gun.”

Hannah didn’t hide the surprise in her voice. “Trudy Beitler is your grandmother? Reece talked about her a lot. He said she was wonderful.”

“Have you met her?”

Hannah shook her head. “Her daughter Irene was my mother’s best friend, though.”

“Irene’s Englisch.”

“My mom was Englisch.”

“You’re kidding!”

She shook her head. “She met my dad when she was eighteen. Actually, Irene introduced them. Mamm always said he was worth more than any TV set.” She smiled at the memory. “It doesn’t happen very often. The Amish are always a little doubtful that anyone who has lived in the world can make that change, but my mom showed them.”