I end the call, look down at my hands to see them shaking. “Goddammit.” I press them against my desktop, order myself to stay calm.
A moment later, Sheriff Arnold Redmon and the young deputy I spoke to at the grain elevator, Fowler Hodges, appear at the door. “Afternoon, Chief Burkholder,” the sheriff drawls.
“Sheriff Redmon.” Standing, I round my desk, a smile pasted to my face, and extend my hand to the sheriff.
He steps into my office and reciprocates the handshake, giving me a quick once-over. His grip is firm, his palm meaty and calloused. His eyes are the color of tarnished coins. He’s got a powerful presence and the kind of stare that goes right through you.
“I heard about that tussle you got into out at the Borntrager place,” he says, studying my face. “Hate to see bruises on any cop, but it always seems worse on a female.”
“We’ll get him.”
I turn my attention to the deputy, hoping my nervousness doesn’t show, and we shake. “Good to see you again, Folly.”
“You guys have any luck on that hit-skip?” he asks.
I give him the highlights of the investigation so far. “We’re basically looking at everyone at this point.”
By the time I turn my attention back to Redmon, I’ve decided how to handle this. “My sister tells me you identified those remains as Daniel Lapp,” I begin.
“ID isn’t official yet, but his brother, Benjamin, remembered him having a chipped front tooth, and sure enough we found a chipped tooth in that mess of bones. We think it’s him.”
“I always figured he left to get away from the Amish,” I tell him.
“He tell you that?”
“Just an assumption.”
“Benjamin told us Daniel helped your brother bale hay the day he disappeared. Your sister verified it. She told us Daniel was at your folks’ farm that day.” He holds my gaze, waits for me to elaborate.
“He was,” I say simply. “All this came up after he went missing. It’s in the file.”
“I know it was a long time ago, Chief Burkholder, but do you recall actually seeing him that day? Did you talk to him?”
I shake my head. “I don’t remember seeing him. I was in the house most of the day. Daniel and Jacob were in the field, behind the barn.”
“He didn’t come in for a drink of water? Anything like that?”
“I don’t think so.” I smile. “The hose is usually good enough for Amish kids.”
Redmon watches me closely, hanging on to each syllable, as if he’s memorizing every detail so he can take them apart later. “Did Lapp’s parents talk to your parents when he didn’t come home?”
“It seems logical that they would have, but I don’t recall them visiting our farm,” I say. “If they did, my parents didn’t mention it to me.”
“Did Daniel help your brother bale on more than one occasion that summer?”
“It’s possible,” I tell him. “Amish kids are always looking for work. It was a long time ago and those memories kind of run together.”
“Were Jacob and Daniel friends?”
“More like friendly acquaintances.”
“So they didn’t hang out? Spend time together?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Do you mind my asking how old you were that summer?”
“I was fourteen.”
He grins as if imagining me at that age. “You probably had better things to do than pay attention to a bunch of sweaty boys.”
I smile, but it’s so forced I feel a tick in my lip.
“Benjamin Lapp thinks something happened to his brother that day,” Redmon tells me.
“Like what?”
“He thinks Daniel might’ve had some kind of accident while he was working in the field.”
“That’s the first time I’ve heard that.” I shrug, but my heart is pounding so hard I can barely hear my own voice. I wonder if Redmon can see the vein pulsing at my throat.
“You know how these things go,” the sheriff says. “Something happens to a loved one, they go missing or whatever, and the family starts looking for someone to blame. People’s imaginations get to running when someone disappears.”
“If anything had happened to Daniel that day, if he’d been hurt while working on our farm, I’m sure my datt would have taken him to the hospital.” I tilt my head, make eye contact with Redmon. “In case you’re wondering, the Amish have no problem utilizing doctors or the ER when necessary. There are no rules against that.”
“To tell you the truth, Chief, I wasn’t sure what the belief system was in that area,” he drawls. “Did you ever wonder what happened to Daniel? I mean, since he’d been at your parents’ farm that day and no one saw him again?”
“Sure,” I tell him. “Everybody wondered.”
He waits, watching me.