Where Shadows Meet(67)

Hannah decided to change the subject. “Mamm had a ring in the keepsake box. Do you know where it is?”

The sympathy on Sarah’s face vanished. “I don’t know.” She stood and grabbed a towel from the heap on the floor and began to mop up the water left around the floor drain.

The goodwill had fled the room. Sarah’s cheeks were red, but Hannah saw no reason for such agitation over a perfectly reasonable question. The ring had to be here somewhere, and she meant to find it.





NINETEEN


“The Amish didn’t invent quilts, but they brought their own unique style to the craft.

Only solid colors in hues worn in clothing are used, and the bright colors are often paired with black.”

HANNAH SCHWARTZ, ON PBS’s The Art of Quilting

Any trouble over the weekend?” Matt asked Sturgis, who leaned out the window of his car with a cigar clamped in his teeth.

“Quiet both nights,” he said. “Any new leads?” Sturgis had dark circles under his eyes. “The media has been hounding me for news. And there’s nothing to throw to them to get them off my back.”

Matt nodded. “I brought hard copies of all the data we’ve collected. I’ll go over it again. I don’t think the family will be in danger during the day. There are too many people coming and going at the greenhouse. I’ll sleep here at night and work the investigation by day.”

“Ah, I see. And Blake?”

“I’m meeting him at the coffee shop to prepare new questions for some of the family. Anything else happening?”

“Another burglary.”

Matt frowned. “Where?”

“John Deere. Some electronics taken, computers, things easily sold for hard cash. The camera didn’t pick up a thing. It looked like it was switched off. But I’ve got detectives looking over the scene for anything we missed on the once-over.”

“The fourth one in three months. He’s getting bolder.” He hesitated, unsure whether he should voice his suspicions. “What if it’s one of us, Captain?”

Sturgis sighed and leaned his head against the window frame. “I haven’t wanted to think about it, but the thought crossed my mind.”

“The guy has to be local. He knows when to slip in and how long to stay before getting away. He knows just how long before the canaries show up.”

“Anyone special you suspect, Detective?”

The things Blake had been buying flashed through his head: a fancy sports car for Gina, a gift to the spa, that five-thousand-dollar ring that probably went to Vanessa. All guilt gifts. Was it possible? He pressed his lips together and shook his head.

“Check it out, Beitler. I run a clean department, and I want it to stay that way. If you suspect anyone specific, I want to know.”

“No one specific,” he muttered. He couldn’t turn Blake in without evidence. As if Matt didn’t have enough to worry about. The captain drove off, and Matt glanced at his watch. He was supposed to meet his mother in an hour. If it really was his mother who had e-mailed him. “Come on, Ajax.” He whistled to the dog lying under the tree with three cats sleeping atop him, but Ajax just lifted his head and briefly looked at him before plopping down again.

“Traitor,” he told the canine. “You’re an insult to dogdom.” Ajax stretched as if to show him just how little his condemnation hurt. “Stay here, then.” He didn’t think Hannah would need the dog during the day, but just in case, it wouldn’t hurt to let Ajax stay. Just when he’d made the decision to leave the animal, the cats scurried away. Ajax got up and trotted over to stand by the rear door of the SUV expectantly. Matt let him in.

Hannah stepped to the back door of the house just as he climbed behind the wheel. “Is there a McDonald’s around? I’d love an iced coffee—vanilla.”

“Nope, no McDonald’s. But Rockville has a Burger King. They’ve got a pretty good iced mocha. And there’s a coffee shop in town.”

“Thanks, I’ll check it out.” She disappeared inside again.

He drove to his place in Rockville. He hadn’t been back to the house since Friday. He parked at the street and let Ajax out. The dog chuffed at his feet and whined. “You miss your toys, boy?” Matt unlocked the door and opened it, and stale air rushed out. The dog went inside ahead of him, and by the time Matt shut the door, Ajax had returned with his stuffed cat.

Matt went down the hall to his bedroom and packed a small suitcase of clothing before shucking his jeans and taking a long, hot shower. With his hair still wet, he padded in bare feet and jeans to the living room. Caitlin’s baby book used to be in a drawer in the coffee table. He sat Indian-style on the carpet and pulled everything out of the drawer but didn’t find it. His gaze studied the bookcases behind the sofa. No sign of it.

Caitlin liked to look at pictures of her mother. Maybe she’d taken it. He got up and went to her room. They’d left in such a hurry he hadn’t made her bed. He straightened the pink ruffled spread and put her shoes in the closet. He glanced around the room but saw only dolls and toys until he got on his hands and knees and looked under the bed.

He pulled out the slim volume that chronicled the advent of his daughter into his life. Sitting with his legs straight out in front of him on the floor and his back against the bed, he began to flip through the pages. Ajax flopped down beside him and put his head in his lap.