Page 83 of Fallen

“You believe Fannie Bontrager is Rachael Schwartz’s daughter?” he asks.

“I think Rachael Schwartz got pregnant the night Fletcher assaulted her. She wasn’t prepared to raise a child. Didn’t want a baby. Especially that baby. Loretta on the other hand had just gotten married. I remember hearing the birth of her first child was a little too close to her wedding day.”

“How old is the girl?”

“Twelve.”

The silence that follows breaks beneath its own weight. “So if Fletcher didn’t murder Rachael Schwartz, who did?” he asks after a moment.

He knows where I’m going with this. He wants me to say it. I hate it that it’s so damn difficult. Doubt sits on my shoulder, stabbing me with its steely little knife. “What if Rachael Schwartz had a change of heart?” I say. “What if she came back to Painters Mill, not only to extort money from Fletcher, but to see her daughter? What if she wanted more? More than Loretta and Ben were willing to grant?”

Tomasetti holds his silence for a full minute. I see the wheels of thought spinning in his eyes. He doesn’t like this any more than I do, but he knows it’s something we cannot ignore.

“Even if the girl is the biological child of Rachael Schwartz, it doesn’t prove Loretta Bontrager committed murder. We can’t place her in that room. We can’t tie her to the bat.”

“It gives her motive,” I say.

“Maybe.” But he frowns. “What about Ben Bontrager? Do you think he’s involved?”

“I don’t know. He has to know that Fannie isn’t their biological child. Whether he knows Fannie is Rachael Schwartz’s child…” I let the words trail when the image of Rachael Schwartz’s broken body flashes in my mind’s eye. “That said, the level of violence … the strength required to do that kind of damage … maybe.”

“It’s flimsy.”

“I know.”

“Any human being capable of doing what was done to Rachael Schwartz needs to be taken off the street,” he says.

I nod. “DNA would be a good place to start.”

“No judge in his right mind is going to sign off on a warrant.”

“I can get something.”

He scoffs at the notion. “You know surreptitious sampling isn’t admissible.”

“It doesn’t need to be. But at least we would know. It would change the way we look at the case.” I think about that a moment. “Who we look at.”

“If you’re wrong?”

“I drop everything, leave it as it is, and close the case,” I tell him.

He scowls at me. “If you’re right, you’re going to have to prove your case.”

“I’m aware.”

“At the moment, you’ve got nothing.”

Except that kernel of suspicion that’s been nibbling away at my gut from the start. “For now, I’m going to do some research, see what I can find.” I shrug. “The rest … I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.”

CHAPTER 36

Day 6

It’s just after eight A.M. when I walk out of the Butterhorn Bakery in downtown Painters Mill, a baker’s dozen of still-warm doughnuts tucked into a paper bag. I didn’t sleep last night after my conversation with Tomasetti and the ensuing research marathon. I couldn’t turn off my brain. Couldn’t stop thinking about Rachael Schwartz and Fannie Bontrager and all the ugly implications of a theory I’m still not sure of.

I wasn’t surprised to discover several academic studies on “sensation seeking in children.” One of the articles I read used phrases like “novelty seeking” and “desire to engage in activities involving speed or risk” and “behavioral difficulties.” A second study used the term “heritable trait,” and I had my answer.

I don’t like the idea of obtaining a DNA sample without a warrant. It’s not illegal in the state of Ohio, but as Tomasetti pointed out, even if I’m able to prove that Fannie Bontrager is Rachael Schwartz’s daughter, I can’t use the information as evidence. The one thing it will do is establish a motive for Ben and Loretta Bontrager, and set me on track to take a hard look at them.