Page 13 of Disappeared

She lowers her voice to a whisper. “Be ye not unequally yoked together with unbelievers, for what fellowship hath righteousness with unrighteousness. What communion hath light with darkness?”

I hold her gaze for the span of a full minute, but she says nothing else.

“I’ll have my officers begin a search for Bonnie, too,” I tell her. “If you think of anything else that might help us find either of them, let me know.”

At that, I turn and walk away.

Be ye not unequally yoked together with unbelievers, for what fellowship hath righteousness with unrighteousness. What communion hath light with darkness?

The Bible passage scrolls uneasily through my brain as I climb into the Explorer. The concept of “separation from the unbelieving world” is a fundamental Amish tenet. As a kid, I accepted the rule without question. As a teenager, I rebelled against it—much to my own detriment. As an adult, I know the doctrine is sometimes used to deter—or even forbid—an Amish person from marrying a non-Amish person.

Bonnie Kline is nowhere to be found, but I don’t believe she’s in danger. In fact, I’m pretty sure she left of her own accord, and felt she couldn’t tell her parents because she knew they would disapprove.

I no longer believe we’re dealing with a lost-child situation. While the Klines are unable—or unwilling—to admit the possibility, I suspect the turn of events are a much more complex situation with an Amish-versus-English twist and the age-old tragedy of forbidden love. Is it possible that at some point Bonnie realized Thomas McKee was involved? Did she somehow contact him? Did she leave to confront him? Or retrieve her son?

Of course, I don’t know the answers to any of those questions. I have no solid proof to back up any of it, and with a toddler missing and conceivably in danger, I can’t call off the search. The one thing I can do is find Thomas McKee.

I call Tomasetti as I pull onto the township road. “How did your meeting go?”

“Finished up half an hour ago,” he replies. “Any luck finding the kid?”

“No, but I think I have a lead.” I tell him about my conversation with Colleen McKee.

“Kate, if he took the kid and there’s no custody agreement…” He sighs. “Ohio code is pretty specific when it comes to parental kidnapping. The courts are tough on offenders.”

I lay out my theory about Bonnie Kline. “No one can find her. Her parents are scared.”

“Does she have access to a vehicle?”

“No, but she could have hired a driver and left without anyone noticing.” It’s the first time I’ve said the words aloud, and even to my ears the scenario sounds like a stretch. “I have no idea if I’m right about any of it.”

“You have a pretty good handle on the Amish mindset,” he says.

“You’re not being an optimist for my benefit, are you?”

“I don’t think anyone has come up with a more reasonable theory.”

“The cabin is only an hour or so away,” I say. “I thought I’d head up that way.”

“Want some company?” he asks. “I’m ten minutes from home.”

“I guess it’s no coincidence I’m midway to the farm now. I’ll pick you up there.”

“You’re pretty sure of yourself, aren’t you, Chief?”

“I’m pretty sure of you.”

Despite the throb of worry in my chest and the incessant wash of rain against the windshield, I smile.

The Deer Creek Reservoir is just over an hour’s drive from Painters Mill. The park consists of a 334-acre man-made lake surrounded by a thousand acres of unblemished forestland. It’s a beautiful place and a favorite spot for everything from boating and fishing to bird-watching and hiking. This morning, fog hovers among the trees and thick brush like apparitions.

“What’s the address?” Tomasetti asks from his place in the passenger seat.

I tell him and he punches it into his phone. “It’s just outside the park,” he says. “Hang a right half a mile ahead.”

I make the turn onto a rutted gravel two-track. The skeletal canopies of towering trees close around the Explorer like arthritic fingers. The vehicle pitches left and right as I traverse potholes and puddles and I pray we don’t run into high water.

“You got a plan once we get there?” Tomasetti asks.