Page 77 of Shamed

“They won’t tell me much, Chief, since I’m not family,” says Jodie. “All she could say is that he made it through surgery, he’s on a respirator, and is in the intensive care unit in critical condition.”

I proceed toward the meeting room, think better of it, and go back out to the reception area. “Thanks for pulling a double shift,” I tell her. “I appreciate it.”

She beams a grin at me and I’m reminded how young she is. That she probably has better things to do. “Happy to fill in, Chief.”

I enter the war room to find John Tomasetti standing at the head of the table, the half podium shoved aside, the mike tucked out of the way. He nods at me when I enter, his eyes lingering an instant too long.

“The technician was able to lift a plaster of the shoe imprint out at the intersection where we believe the shooting took place,” he says. “Preliminarily, we got a men’s size thirteen. Tread matches the plaster taken at the scene of the Yoder murder and the abduction of the Helmuth girl. Lab is running a comp now, which is forthcoming, but I think it’s safe to assume we are dealing with the same individual. We believe he is a white male. He may be Amish or presenting himself as an Amish person. Judging from the shoe size, well over six feet tall.” He looks at me again. “I believe Chief Burkholder will be giving you a more detailed description.”

He flips a page and frowns. “We did not get DNA from the killer at the Schattenbaum farm. Both sets belong to Yoder and the Helmuth girl. The tire tread was identified, as most of you know. We believe this individual drives or has access to a pickup truck or SUV.”

He looks at me again. “Chief Burkholder, you want to talk about that wadding you found at the scene of the Troyer shooting?”

I speak from my place at the door. “We believe David Troyer was traveling north on Township Road 104 when he was shot. The wadding was in the woods east of the road, about ten yards in. That’s where we think the shooter stood and took his shot. The wadding is consistent with a muzzle-loader or black-powder-type rifle. For those of you not familiar with that kind of weapon, they do not use regular cartridges. According to the surgeon who removed the projectile from Troyer, the projectile was a lead ball, which is commonly used and has been sent to the BCI lab. What’s significant about the muzzle-loader is that the Amish use that type of rifle for hunting. While we can’t say for certain he’s Amish, this strengthens my belief that he is or was at some point in his life.”

“Makes sense in light of the victim and abducted girl being Amish,” Sheriff Rasmussen puts in.

“Unless someone wants us to believe he’s Amish,” Tomasetti adds.

I nod in agreement and continue, summarizing my theory about the illicit adoption of an infant seven years ago and hitting the highlights of my trip to Crooked Creek. “The two people from Crooked Creek who I believe were involved, Bishop Noah Schwartz and the midwife, Sadie Stutzman, are both dead.”

A barely discernible stir goes around the room.

I relay the details of my being ambushed and follow up with a physical description of my attacker. “Male. Six-three. Two twenty. Dark hair. Beard, which of course could be altered if he wishes to change his appearance.” I look at my audience. “I don’t believe the timing of any of this was coincidental.”

“You believe the bishop and midwife were targeted because of what they knew?” the trooper asks.

“Or because of what they did,” I reply. “I think the hit-and-run that killed the bishop in Crooked Creek and the murder of Stutzman are directly related to the crimes here in Painters Mill and were perpetrated by the same individual.”

“Why would an Amish bishop—two Amish bishops—and midwife take a baby?” Rasmussen asks.

“No one I’ve talked to has been able to give me an answer,” I tell him. “What they have told me is that the people involved must have believed they had a good reason.”

“Good reason?” he says. “You want to expand on that a little, Kate?”

I frown at the sheriff, realizing he’s still miffed at me. “I’m operating on theory here, Mike. Just like you.”

“Unlike the rest of us you’ve got some insights into the Amish mind-set. What possible scenario could prompt them to plan and execute some sort of … illegal adoption?”

I shrug. “If they were concerned about the safety of the baby, for example. Or if, for whatever reason, the mother was unable to care for a newborn. The bishop and/or the midwife may have stepped in to help.” Even as I say the words, it feels as if I’m defending what is basically an indefensible action—regardless of the objective—and once again I’m reminded that while I have an intimate understanding of the Amish ways, my cohorts do not.

“Can’t help but wonder why someone—the mother or father or family members—didn’t go to the police,” Rasmussen says. “I mean, if someone took their kid it seems to me that would be their first stop.”

“We just don’t know,” I tell him. “We don’t even know if the mother is still living.”

“Did you check deaths in the area during that time frame?” Tomasetti asks.

I nod. “There’s nothing there that stands out.”

“What about the timing of all this?” Glock asks. “Seven years is a long time.”

“We don’t know,” I say.

“So these murders are likely revenge-motivated,” Tomasetti says.

“Probably.” I nod my head. “As far as the abduction of the girl, I believe we have to operate under the assumption that they wanted her back.”

“Is there a possibility Mary Yoder was part of it seven years ago?” Tomasetti asks.