Down a Dark Road (Kate Burkholder #9)

“Nasty situation.” He shakes his head. “You got business up this way?”

The last thing I want to do is reveal to local law enforcement that I’m here looking into a case they closed two years earlier. Especially when Sheriff Crowder made it abundantly clear he’s no fan of me or Joseph King. Still, a deputy sheriff could be a good source of information.

“After the standoff with King, I just wanted to drive up and take a look around.”

“You find what you’re looking for?”

“I haven’t quite figured that out yet.”

“I just remembered where I heard your name,” he says. “You’re the one who used to be Amish. You knew King back when you were kids.”

“That’s right.” In the back of my mind I wonder if he saw that damn photograph, but he’s too polite to mention it. “His family lived on the farm next to ours.”

“Personal connection makes it even tougher.” He offers a slightly apologetic look. “Hated the way all that turned out.”

I’m not sure if he’s talking about the takedown of King or the murder of his wife.

He sighs, his eyes scanning the room, and then shakes his head. “Our department took a lot of calls out here that last year or so before he killed her.”

I think of the skimpy file and ask, “What kinds of calls?”

“Ran the gamut. King was one of those guys that was always getting into some kind of trouble. If he wasn’t drunk and disorderly, he’d get himself pulled over—in the buggy of all things—and we’d catch him with alcohol or drugs. Later, we started getting domestic-violence calls. Honestly, I think he’d been beating the hell out of her for some time. No one knew about it and she never told anyone. I can’t help but wonder … if we’d done something sooner she might still be around.” He shrugs. “But then you know what they say about hindsight.”

“Who was it that called the sheriff about the domestic disputes?”

“Neighbor, I think.”

I wonder if it’s occurred to him that the neighbors on both sides are at least half a mile away. “What was Naomi King like?”

“Only met her a couple of times. Nice woman. Pleasant. Pretty, too. I always wondered what she saw in King. From what I hear, the guy was a thug and a bully.”

“You know what they say about love being blind.”

He laughs. “Ain’t that the truth.”

“Were you involved in the homicide investigation at all?” I ask.

For the first time he doesn’t look quite so cocky; his eyes flick away from mine. “I was one of the first responders. It was my first homicide and let me tell you, it was a bad scene.” He gives a self-deprecating laugh. “Learned I wasn’t such a tough guy that morning, I guess.”

“Anyone who doesn’t feel that way probably shouldn’t be a cop,” I say.

“Hated to see things turn out the way they did, but we’re not going to miss Joe King around here. I figured that son of a bitch was out of our hair for good when he got sent up to Mansfield. No such luck.”

An awkward silence ensues, but he takes ownership of it. “Sorry if you were a friend of his.”

“It’s okay,” I tell him. “No offense. I hadn’t seen Joseph in over twenty years.”

“Well, I hope I’m not overstepping, Chief Burkholder. But I had multiple run-ins with that guy. He might’ve been Amish and all that, but he was a bad egg. When the mask came off, he was like any other piece of shit I’d ever dealt with. Worse, because you weren’t expecting it from an Amish dude. Hell, even the bishop figured Joe did it.”

The statement gives me pause; I’d just talked to the bishop and he hadn’t mentioned any such thing. “The bishop said that?”

The deputy doesn’t notice my surprise. “In the course of one of the interviews. I mean, for King’s own bishop to deem him guilty? I think it says a lot about what the Amish thought of him.”

Deputy Rowlett cocks his head, studies me a moment. “You interested in the murder, or what?”

Careful, a little voice whispers.

“I just wanted to get a few things straight in my head, I guess.”

“Did you?” he asks.

“Enough so that I can put it to rest.”

A call comes over his radio. He responds via his shoulder mike and then turns his attention back to me. “I’ve got to get back to work,” he says. “Look, if you need any information on any of this stuff, let me know and I’ll send it your way.”

“Do you have any idea where I might find Sidney Tucker?” I ask.

He looks surprised that I know the name of the detective who worked the homicide of Naomi King. “Last I heard he was living out to Mosquito Lake.” He pauses, ignoring his radio. “Haven’t seen Tuck since he retired. If you talk to him, tell him I said hello, will you?”

“Honestly, I’m probably not going to make it over that way. If I do, I’ll tell him.” I offer up my best sheepish smile. “At some point I’m going to have to get back to work, too.”

He’s staring at me as if he isn’t quite sure whether to believe me; then he motions toward the stairway. “Feel free to finish what you were doing, Chief Burkholder. Look around as much as you like.” He grins. “Be careful, though. I hear there are ghosts out here.”

After tipping his hat, he turns away and disappears through the mudroom.





CHAPTER 16

There’s not much a cop dislikes more than to receive conflicting information in the course of a case. Precious time is wasted sorting through the half truths or outright lies to get to the facts. Then you waste more time figuring out who’s feeding you false information and why. I’m not even officially working on the Naomi King murder case and yet that’s exactly what’s happening.

After my conversation with Salome Fisher I have to wonder: Is it possible the domestic-violence charges against Joseph King were, at least in part, the result of some kind of disconnect between Naomi King and the sheriff’s department? Is it possible that neither she nor Joseph fully understood the seriousness of the charges and therefore made little effort to fight them? Was he charged and later convicted because no one stepped forward to set the matter straight? It seems implausible. But having grown up Amish, I understand the attitude that might put such a scenario into play.

The Amish community’s disdain for litigation could have dissuaded both Joseph and Naomi from eliciting the services of an attorney. The separation tenet could have discouraged them from asking questions that should have been asked. As a whole, the Amish seem to hold themselves to a higher level of accountability. While they’ll be the first to forgive, that forgiveness doesn’t always lend itself to tolerance, especially when it comes to a man like Joseph King, who repeatedly found himself on the wrong side of all those Amish rules, not to mention the law.