BUBBLE LIGHTS ATOP the four squad cars parked outside the farmhouse strobed into the night. All available Parke County deputies had responded to the call to the Amish farmhouse. Deputy Matt Beitler parked his SUV behind his partner’s truck and got out. He buttoned his coat against the wind. When the call came in, he had been enjoying his day off with Analise. He’d not been happy to be summoned to work.
He opened the back door and let Ajax, his year-old K9 search dog, out of the back. Taking a firm hold on the German shepherd’s leash, he walked toward the house. The odor of manure from the barn wafted over him as he strode over the rough ground. Double homicide on an Amish farm. The Amish were peaceable and model citizens. Reece had sounded almost incoherent when he called, which made Matt break every speed record getting here. His partner wasn’t often anything but calm and methodical. O’Connor loathed losing control of anything.
Generator-powered floodlights illuminated the yard. The sheriff had already called in the state boys, and technicians were busy looking for clues left by the perp. O’Connor was comforting a young Amish woman. In the dark, it was hard to make out more than her white bonnet.
O’Connor glanced up and saw him. With his arm around the young woman, he led her to the porch and seated her in a rocker. “I’ll be right back,” he said to her before turning to join Matt.
Matt watched the woman put her face in her hands. Her shoulders heaved. Her family or friends must be the murder victims. O’Connor would give him the details.
“Stay,” Matt told the dog. He looped the leash around a hitching post and met his partner halfway, near the front door.
“Thanks for getting here so fast.” O’Connor took off his hat and swiped at his blond hair.
Thirty, O’Connor was already showing signs of early balding. He wore a distracted expression. The detective was one of the most dedicated in the sheriff’s department. He’d helped Matt get the job and had been quick to partner with him, even though he was the senior officer.
“Bad scene?”
“Worse than you can possibly imagine.” In the glare of the lights, O’Connor looked deadly white. “Both of the parents.” He nodded toward the young woman. “She found them covered with a quilt.” He hesitated. “Their limbs are contorted, backs and necks arched.”
“Strychnine poisoning?”
“Maybe.”
Matt winced. Strychnine was nasty. The victim suffered muscle convulsions that got worse and worse until the poor victim was worn out and the lungs quit working. He wouldn’t want to go that way. “You interrogate her?”
O’Connor looked away. “Not yet. I—I was in the area and heard her scream. When I got here, she was outside, in shock. I think she passed out briefly.”
“We’d better talk to her.” Matt started toward the woman, but his partner grabbed his arm.
“Go easy on her,” O’Connor said. “In fact, let me handle it. She’s all alone now.”
Unusual in an Amish family. They bred like rabbits. “Easy? We need the truth before the trail goes cold. What’s going on with her, boss?” Matt stared from his partner to the woman rocking with her arms clasped around herself. “Can I at least ask her some questions?”
O’Connor dropped his hand from Matt’s arm. “Just be careful.”
Matt approached the woman. “Ms. Schwartz? I’m Deputy Beitler. I’d like to ask you some questions.”
In the brighter wash of light, he guessed her age between twenty and twenty-two. She looked almost colorless between her white bonnet and shapeless gray dress.
O’Connor stepped around him and took Hannah’s hand. “Can you handle this now?” he asked the witness.
Matt shot his partner an incredulous glare. Since when did they tiptoe around witnesses? The media would be swarming the area any minute. But it was O’Connor’s call. “Ms. Schwartz?” he said again.
She looked up. In the glare of lights, her eyes took on a golden glow, eyes like those of a tiger. He could see clear down to her soul, and there was only goodness. Matt shook off the thought. In his experience, the first place to look for a perp was among a victim’s family and friends. Though in this case, he suspected a hate crime. But maybe she hated her parents. It happened.
She rocked back and forth, back and forth.
“Can you tell me what happened?”
“I came home from—from a walk and found my parents.” Her voice was hoarse.
He could see she was still in shock. “What about before your walk? Was there anything out of the ordinary, anyone else you saw while you were out?”
She rubbed her head. “I—I don’t remember.”
He straightened from hunching over the notepad in his hand. “You don’t remember?” O’Connor kept patting the woman on the shoulder. Matt had never seen his partner behave this way.
“Everything is a blur. I can’t think.” She rubbed fiercely at her temples as though trying to force her brain to cooperate. She looked up at him with a piteous expression. “It was my fault.”
He clicked his pen on again. “What do you mean?”
“Of course it wasn’t your fault, Hannah,” O’Connor said, his voice a little too loud. “You need to rest. You’ll remember more tomorrow.”
Matt poised his pen over the paper. “How was it your fault?”
She raised her gaze to his then. “I mixed up the lemonade. It was a free sample we got in the mailbox. The poison was in that, wasn’t it?”
“What makes you think they were poisoned?”
“The—the way they looked. Poisoned rats look like that.” She shuddered. “We use it in the greenhouse.”
He and O’Connor exchanged glances. O’Connor called over another deputy and asked him to check out the greenhouse.
Matt turned back to Hannah. “You prepared lemonade before you went for your walk?”
She nodded. “With lots of sugar because my datt has a sweet tooth. I poured glasses for everyone, including an extra for the guest. Someone was coming to look at Mamm’s quilts.”
“Was it a man or a woman who came to buy a quilt?”
She scrunched her forehead and went even paler. “Oh, why can’t I remember?” she moaned. “Let me think.” She sat quietly a moment. “Cyrus. Cyrus Long. At least I think he was here tonight. My memory is all jumbled up. Maybe he was here last night. I can’t remember.”
“Can’t or won’t?” he asked as O’Connor rejoined them.
“Matt,” O’Connor said with a warning in his voice. “I want to talk to you.” He retreated a few steps from the woman.
Matt joined him. “What is with you, man? I’ve never seen you act like this. You’re mucking up the investigation.”
O’Connor glanced at Hannah, then back to Matt. “She was with me.”
“With you? What does that mean?”
“I mean she slipped away to meet me.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “We were together. That’s all you need to know.”
Matt couldn’t wrap his mind around it. O’Connor was a good eight years older than the Schwartz woman, and as one of the “Englisch,” he should have been the last man she’d consider getting involved with. “I see,” he said. “A little cradle robbing?” He knew he was pushing it. O’Connor was his boss, but that was hard to remember when they were friends, practically brothers, before they were partners.
“Shut up. You know nothing about it. I’ve been waiting all my life for someone like Hannah—sweet and good. When I’m with her, I’m better than I am alone. She had nothing to do with this crime,” O’Connor said, his voice firm.
“You know as well as I do that the perp is usually known to the victim. You need to tell Sturgis. You can’t work this investigation.”
“This is my case. I know my limits, and I can handle it, Beitler.”
“O’Connor, think about this. You’re already on thin ice with that brutality charge.”
O’Connor ran his hand through his hair. “And you think about how you got this job. And where you’d be if not for me.”