A Perfect Square Page 26

  She prayed that Shane would use the correct words, that the man in front of her and the woman in the house would find the strength to bear whatever awaited them in the moments ahead, and she prayed for the boy — she could now see it was a boy and not quite a man, though no doubt he was at the end of his rumspringa — who circumvented their little group and hurried toward the back of the barn.

  Callie blinked twice, hoping her eyes would adjust to the dimness of the barn. She didn’t consider herself a city girl, not any longer, and even when she’d lived in Houston, she’d sometimes visited the outlying farms in Normangee. But southern farms were different from Amish farms, and Timothy Lapp’s farm was proving a bit different from the four or five Amish farms she regularly visited in Shipshewana.

  There were the silos: both odd and numerous.

  Then there was the barn. In a word: gigantic.

  Callie stepped through the door and stared straight up. Would that be three stories? She’d lived in Shipshewana less than six months, but already she was used to smaller buildings. This reminded her of the Galleria Mall in Houston. Ladders on each side led to a loft that circled the building on three sides. Windows at the top would have let light in on most days, but today she could only see the darkness of the sky and rain pelting against the panes.

  Callie might have stood staring, earning a crick in her neck, but Faith nudged her forward, nudged her closer to Deborah and Shane, closer to the event she was no longer sure she had the courage to witness.

  They followed Mr. Lapp into his office area, located at the northeast corner of the building. Unlike the rest of the barn, it was the size of most Amish offices, meaning it was small and utilitarian. By the time they all crowded inside, it was obvious there wouldn’t be room enough for everyone to sit.

  Mr. Lapp stepped to the far side of the work table and nodded at Shane. “Like I told you, my girl’s in the city.”

  Shane held the man’s gaze for ten heartbeats, then pulled the folder of photos out of his bag and set it on the table. “Have you heard from Katie since she left, Mr. Lapp?”

  The older man flinched at his daughter’s name, but didn’t reach for the folder. “No. I haven’t, but then we don’t have a phone here. Don’t even have one in the workshop, though our bishop would allow it if I wanted one. I don’t.”

  Shane nodded as if that made sense.

  When Lapp didn’t add anything else, Shane cleared his throat once and reached for the folder. Reaching out her hand to stop him from opening it, Faith spoke up.

  “I don’t know that you remember me, Mr. Lapp.”

  “ ‘Course I do, Faith.” He looked up at her, met her gaze. “There’s no need to be formal, just because you arrived with Englischers.”

  “Danki, Timothy.” Faith ran her hand down the front of her dress, wiping at the wet material.

  Callie realized anew what a tenuous thread had brought them all together — Mr. Bontrager, Faith, the Lapps. The search for family, and Deborah’s ability to notice the smallest details in any pattern, even the pattern of Faith’s dress.

  “I saw Katie occasionally in town, though it had been a while, what with everyone so busy during the harvest months and her being grown now.” Faith waited for Timothy to add something, but he only stared back down at the folder, which remained unopened, sitting on the table. “Did Katie write to you at all, since she’s been away?”

  He didn’t answer, but when he finally raised his eyes, Callie saw the fear there, saw the hope behind the fear, and she found herself praying that they were wrong. She had the irrational urge to grab the folder and the pictures and run out of the barn, run back to her car, and take them away from this place.

  Perhaps it would be better if they didn’t know.

  Before she could act on that urge, Shane reached forward and opened the file. He set the pictures on the table, in front of Mr. Lapp for viewing, placed there like tablets of stone.

  Timothy didn’t have to answer.

  He shut his eyes, and his face lost all color.

  He began speaking in German, softly at first, a painful anguished sound.

  Deborah rushed around the table. “Sit down, Mr. Lapp. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Would you like me to go and get your wife?”

  “No. Not yet. Please, no. Give me a minute.” His hand trembling, he reached forward, picked up the picture of Katie on the stretcher.

  Callie didn’t realize he was crying until tears splashed onto the photo.

  She didn’t realize she was crying until she tasted salt on her lips.

  “What happened to her? Can you tell me what happened to her?”

  “No, sir. We don’t know exactly. Her body was found two weeks ago. There’s a trial going on in—”

  “That’s not possible.” Timothy Lapp placed both hands flat on the table, as if to push up, as if to stand. He shook his head and repeated, “That can’t have happened.”

  “What do you mean, sir? This is your daughter, Katie Lapp?”

  “Ya, that’s her.” Timothy reached forward, touched one of the photos gingerly, pulled it toward him as if he were pulling a piece of his heart across the table, shredding it as he dragged it across the oak surface. “It’s her or it’s her twin.”

  Callie wanted to look away from the agony on his face, but she hung on to his words, was mesmerized by the look of confusion that now played across his features.

  “But you say her body was found two weeks ago, and all this time a trial has been going on in the Englisch courts?”

  “Yes, sir. There’s a man, an Amish man, who’s been accused of your daughter’s murder.”

  Timothy flinched at the word, but shook his head, and this time he did stand. “Well, it can’t be her then. I don’t understand how they can look the same, but it can’t be her.”

  “Your daughter is missing?”

  “Ya, and she left just over two weeks ago. Seventeen days to be exact. I’ve counted each and every one. Prayed each morning and night that God would see fit to guide her steps back to this home.”

  “Mr. Lapp, I’m sorry, but if your daughter is missing, and this looks like your daughter, then chances are it is her. We could do a DNA test to confirm.”

  Timothy pushed the offending picture away, continued shaking his head. “You don’t understand. It can’t be her. Samuel went down to the phone shack and spoke with her two nights ago.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Ya, I am. He came back and told us that she’s still in the city. That she’s fine.”

  “Sir, is it possible — “

  Shane never had a chance to finish his sentence.

  It was cut off by Mrs. Lapp, who rushed into the room, pushed past Callie and Faith, and threw herself at the photos on the table. When she saw the photos of the girl, saw the evidence of what she must have feared every night since her daughter had left, a high-pitched scream escaped from her lips.

  Faith had described Rachel Lapp as being in her late forties, energetic, and motherly. But the woman who now clutched the photos to her breast and wailed was no more than a shadow. Tendrils of brown and gray hair had escaped her kapp and hung in rivulets down her face. Her dress was soaked and clung to her thin frame, as if she’d been standing in the rain since they’d arrived.

  But what struck Callie, what she knew would follow her into her dreams that night and for many nights to come, were the woman’s eyes. Dark semicircles rimmed the bottoms, reminding her of the football players she once watched on television. And when Rachel Lapp looked up, when she finally sought her husband’s eyes, Callie saw such agony and distress, such complete and naked grief, that she feared the woman’s heart was literally breaking in two.

  Chapter 35

  DEBORAH WAS STILL HOLDING on to Mr. Lapp’s arm when Mrs. Lapp hurled herself into the room.

  The woman grabbed a photo off the table and began wailing. Though Deborah had seen death several times, and even been with families when they’d learned of the death of a loved
one, she’d never witnessed this type of scene before. She looked to Shane for any indication of what to do, but his eyes were again focused on the doorway.

  At that moment a boy came crashing through the office door. Nearly six feet tall, with blond hair, he was wearing suspenders and traditional Amish clothing.

  Deborah barely had time to notice those things before he snatched a photo of Katie off the table and began shouting. “Where did you get these? Who are you? Why did you come here? You can’t come in here. You can’t come in here with your photographs.”

  “Samuel — “ Timothy tried to stand, tried to reach out to the boy, but he froze when his wife crumpled to the floor.

  “Rachel? Rachel, are you all right?” Stumbling around the table, Timothy grasped her hand.

  But Rachel didn’t answer or respond in any way.

  “Lay her down. I think she’s fainted.” Callie rushed the few feet to the woman’s side. “Mrs. Lapp, can you hear me?”

  “What can I do?” Shane asked.

  “Help me lay her back on the floor and find me something to place under her legs.” Callie loosened the top pin of Rachel’s dress to make sure her airway wasn’t restricted. “We need to give her plenty of room.”

  “She’s had a few dizzy spells before,” Timothy said, “but nothing like this.”

  “Does she have low blood sugar?” Callie asked.

  “I’m not sure. She just sits down and they pass.”

  Shane pushed chairs and boxes out of the way to give Callie space to work, then knelt down closer to her and whispered, “Do you know what you’re doing?”

  “I’ve had basic CPR, but no more.” Callie glanced at Deborah. “I would think you’d know what to do.”

  “Me? We Amish are usually calm in situations like this. I’m not accustomed to hysteria.”

  “It’s going to be all right, Rachel.” Mr. Lapp knelt on the other side of his wife, still grasping her hand as if he could lend her his strength.

  “She’s breathing fine, Mr. Lapp. Probably the shock caused her blood pressure to drop.” Callie had her hand on Rachel’s wrist and was counting her heartbeats. “Her pulse is strong. If we could get her some water for when she comes around — “

  “I usually bring some with me, but today …” He looked around in confusion. “We’ll have to go back to the house.”

  “I’ll fetch some,” Faith said, then turned and rushed from the room.

  Deborah knelt beside Callie, who was still monitoring the woman’s pulse. “You have your cell phone, don’t you, Callie?”

  “In the car.”

  “I have mine.” Shane pulled his from his pocket and checked it. “No service. I’ll go after yours.”

  Shane jumped up and headed out of the room.

  “Shane.” Deborah hurried to meet him at the door. “There was something wrong with that boy.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I don’t know.”

  They both looked out into the main section of the barn. There was no sign of the boy now.

  Deborah reached out and put both hands on Shane’s arm and looked into his dark eyes — eyes that had once frightened her as much as the storm and the situation in this room. But she and Shane had been through much together. Her mind flashed back on the night she’d climbed down the trellis outside Callie’s bedroom window, the night she thought she’d die. Though she couldn’t say why, something told her this moment was every bit as critical.

  “I don’t know what I mean, but be careful. Watch for him.”

  Shane nodded once, squeezed her hand, and headed out into the rain, nearly running into Faith as he did.

  “I have the water, but the children became frightened when their mamm rushed out. I’m going back to the house to stay with them.”

  “Thank you, Faith.” Deborah took the thermos of water from Faith and carried it to Callie, who was still kneeling beside Rachel. Rachel was beginning to stir.

  “I have some water here, Mrs. Lapp. Can you take a small sip?” Callie asked.

  “My daughter, my dochder, my sweet girl.” Rachel Lapp was openly weeping again, but her color had improved.

  Deborah pulled a handkerchief out of her pocket and placed it gently into her hands.

  “She’s with the Lord now, Rachel.” Timothy swiped at his eyes. “At least we know she’s with the Lord. We can stop worrying. Finally we can stop worrying.”

  “Oh, Timothy.” A wail escaped from the woman’s throat, and she threw her arms around her husband’s neck.

  After a few moments, Timothy pulled away from his wife, making space for Deborah and Callie to continue their ministrations.

  Deborah met Callie’s gaze. When Callie nodded slightly, they both helped her into a seated position.

  “Try to stay calm, Mrs. Lapp. You have other bopplin, ya?” Deborah kept her voice low, soothing, as she closed her eyes and forced herself to picture the quilt that lay upon her and Jonas’ bed. The pattern was blue on white and one of her favorites. It was simple and peaceful.

  “Ya, I do. I have six children. My Katie was the oldest.”

  “And we’ll miss her terribly. We have missed her since the day she left.” Timothy wiped at the tears running down his face. “But now we know, and we believe she is with the Lord. She’s resting now, Rachel. It hurts, and we’ll miss her, but she’s resting.”

  The two clung to each other, rocking back and forth, Rachel still sobbing and Timothy rubbing her back in small circles, as one would a child.

  Callie motioned to Deborah from just outside the door.

  “Where’s Shane? He should be back by now.” Fear mixed with worry in Callie’s stomach, brushing up against her insides like a hundred swarming bees. She wondered if this morning would ever end. She wondered when they could all go back to Shipshe, back to what now seemed like a nice, safe life.

  “Shane said he was going to fetch your phone to call for an ambulance and more officers.” Deborah glanced at the office. “Are you still worried about Rachel?”

  Crossing her arms tightly around her middle, Callie peeked back into the office. “A little. Her color is better, but I don’t have any real medical training. It bothers me that she’s been having dizzy spells and hasn’t seen a doctor. What I don’t want is another emergency on our hands. This family has been through enough.”

  “Ya, you’re right.”

  Callie uncrossed her arms and began fiddling with the buttons on her raincoat. “Maybe Shane had problems finding my phone or finding service.”

  “I’m more concerned about the boy,” Deborah admitted.

  “The boy?”

  “Large, blond-haired, stormed into the room and grabbed a picture off the table — “

  “That was hardly a boy.”

  “He was grown, I’ll grant you that. Probably eighteen or so, but I could tell by his manners … he was still a boy. And there was something else about him I didn’t like.”

  “What do you mean? What else?”

  “I don’t know, Callie. Did you not get a gut look at his face?”

  “No, I was watching Mr. Lapp, worried he might keel over or grow angry and start chucking things at someone. Then Mrs. Lapp crumpled to the floor, and I forgot all about the kid. Why?”

  “Something wasn’t right with him. Something—” But before Deborah could finish her thought, they heard a sound Callie had once described to Deborah. A sound Callie had heard when Max was hurt. The sound of a gun going off.

  Callie’s heart slammed into her rib cage with the echo. Her legs turned to jelly, and she wondered if Mrs. Lapp’s condition was contagious.

  Deborah grabbed her hand. “Callie, was that a gun? Who — “

  “Shane’s out there … and that boy you’re so worried about …” Callie sputtered.

  Deborah clasped both of Callie’s hands in her own. “Look at me. I’ll go and check on Shane, but you need to stay here with Mrs. Lapp.”

  “What? Why should I stay here?”

>   “I don’t know how to help her. I don’t know anything about fainting spells.”

  “I’m not a doctor. I only sold medicines to doctors. You can stay with her as easily as I can.”

  “One of us should go and check on Shane. Someone has a gun out there.”

  “A gun. Listen to yourself, Deborah.”

  They both turned and stared out the partially open barn door. Rain continued to pour from the sky.

  “Ya. I’m listening, but maybe Shane needs help.” Deborah put both of her hands on Callie’s face. “He helped us before. Remember? He risked his life for us. I can’t leave him out there for a crazed boy to kill. Now go in and stay with the Lapps. Be sure that Rachel doesn’t have another attack.”

  “No, Deborah. You should stay here. You have children.” Callie felt wetness on her face and wondered if the roof had begun to leak, if the heavens were intent on dropping enough water to soak them all, to wash every bit of filth and sin from each one of them.

  She wondered if Shane was lying bleeding in the storm that continued to pelt down on them, and once again she felt as if a giant fist were squeezing her heart.

  “God will protect me, Callie.” Deborah kissed Callie’s cheek and shoved her back into the workroom before slamming the door shut.

  Callie stared at the couple, still on the floor.

  Mr. Lapp had heard the gunshot.

  She was sure of it. The way he looked at her and the dread in his eyes confirmed it. But he clung to his wife, and his eyes once again strayed to the pictures still on the table.

  Callie walked over to Shane’s folder, scooped the pictures up, and placed them inside. Then she closed the folder and placed the Bible that was sitting on Mr. Lapp’s desk on top of it.

  When she looked back at Timothy, his eyes were shut and his lips were moving, but she couldn’t make out what he was saying.

  She looked around the office and found a blanket and brought it over to cover Mrs. Lapp, who was lying down again, curled in a ball, as if to ward off any additional tragedy.

  Her husband still had his arm wrapped around her.